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cosmos-coma · 4 months

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My Sun, My Star

A/N: I'm so weak for Winter soldier Bucky. I cant wait to write more of him, I love this sad guilt ridden man.

Pairing: Winter Soldier!Bucky x Reader

Words: 6756

Warnings: Breaking and entering, Minor violence, Injury and Blood, Winter soldier Bucky, GN reader but also Pregnant reader, mild language, I'm not sure if this is fluff or angst or both??

Summary: You wait up late for your boyfriend Bucky to return from his mission, but it isn't Bucky who finds you.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Bucky Masterlist

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Your eyes blinked slowly, heavier with each passing second, yet you still managed to open them once again. Glancing at the bright white numbers of the digital clock you watched it change to 1:46 AM, causing a groan to pull from your lips. Bucky was supposed to be back tonight (yesterday technically) from his latest mission, but he still had yet to show up at your shared flat.

You checked your phone again, the lack of notifications mocking your tired eyes. You let out one more sigh before you turned off the mindless babbling of the TV and stood up to get ready for bed. You were sure Bucky wouldn’t want you waiting up so late in your current condition anyway, he had been harping you about getting enough sleep and water and everything in between.

“I’m only four months pregnant, Bucky. I’m fully capable of staying up late” You had said to him.

“Five months, Doll, and it’s about your cortisol levels. It’s not good for you or the baby, and it could lead to them being underweight” he said, reciting exactly what the doctor had told him during your last checkup.

“Four and a half,” you argued as you stuck your tongue out at him, “and she was talking about getting chased by a bear kind of stress, not staying up to watch Bake Off.”

You snorted at the memory of just earlier that week, a small smile coming to your face as you went through your nightly routine. You continued to check your phone here and there as you went, “Did you get back safe? How’d your mission go?” you had texted two hours ago, yet it still remained unread and unanswered.

‘Maybe one more quick text wouldn’t hurt,’ you thought to yourself as you typed out the simple message and hit send.

“Stay safe, okay? I love you.”

You sighed as you set the phone down, “it’s okay, everything is okay,” you assured yourself as you pulled one of his large hoodies over your head, enjoying the way the hem brushed against your bare thighs and the sleeves threatened to swallow your hands. “He’s a former assassin and a super soldier! Nothing is going to happen that he can’t handle,” You stated firmly to your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes remained unsure despite your voice’s conviction, but you did your best to ignore it, focusing instead on the achingly tired look they held.

“Yes, I know. It’s finally time for bed, little one,” you mumbled sleepily as you felt your baby kick against the walls of your protruding belly, being quick to climb between the layers of blankets and lonesome sheets. “Fuck, that's cold…!” you swore quietly as your bare legs hit the icy fabric- having gone unwarmed by your personal space heater and super soldier.

Thankfully sleep came easily, the thought of waking up to Bucky’s sleepy, scruffy face only further urged your body to wind down so the moment would come sooner.

----

Bucky’s phone buzzed again in his bag, lighting up with your smiling face as your text displayed on the screen, but nobody reached down to check it, as everyone found themselves in a far more urgent situation.

“Keep him busy, Rodgers! I just need one more minute!” Tony yelled as he dug through the equipment in the quinjet, “For fuck’s sake, who organized this last?”

“What do you think I’m doing…!” The blond grunted with a justified hint of frustration,” Sam? Any help??” He shouted with a pointed look, telling more than asking as he struggled to restrain his thrashing friend. A swift metal fist flew toward his already battered face, barely giving him time to duck out of the way and attempt to restrain it again.

“Honestly? Seems like you’ve got this one,” Sam said, holding up his hands.

“SAM.”

“I’m coming..! God, can’t either of you old men take a joke?”

No one knew exactly what happened, Bucky had gone off on his own in the Hydra base they were exploring. It was supposed to have been recently abandoned, something about the agents leaving in an urgent rush that left files upon files sitting out in the open. It was supposed to be a simple mission; everyone goes off in teams, gathers what they can, and makes sure there are no surprises. But Bucky assured them that he would be fine to go on his own, he hadn’t had a sign of relapse in over a year, and he would only be picking up what looked important. A simple job.

He should’ve listened.

It was when he didn’t return to the jet with the rest of them that they started to get worried.

“So, where’s the Manchurian candidate?” Tony jested, looking at his watch. They were supposed to leave maybe 10 minutes ago, not terribly late by any means, but enough to start getting worried about Bucky’s quietness over the coms.

“Man, come on.. ” Sam sighed at Tony’s joke as he crossed his arms.

“Bucky?” Steve tried calling over the coms, ignoring both of his teammates, but the line remained all too quiet.

They found him finally in the basement level of the office building, old discarded computers lining the walls along with cabinets upon cabinets of old files and other equipment. He hadn’t even realized it was a trap until he stepped right into it, triggering a switch that had the computers and hidden speakers flashing images and sounds that assaulted his senses with fragmented memories long forgotten.

He should have listened.

Sam had found him first, on his knees in the middle of the floor with hands desperately covering his ears, trying to block out the incessant noise. Hauling his teammate to his feet, he rushed back to the jet, calling everyone off from their search before anything else could be sprung.

At first, they thought he might be fine- quiet, but fine. He had given them a small smile and a wave of his hand as everyone tried to check in with him, taking a seat as the jet took off to go home. It had all seemed relatively normal until they were halfway back and the unseen battle inside him must have taken a turn.

“Got it!” Tony yelled as he pulled out the dart gun, aiming quickly as he fired two shots into Bucky’s chest, readying a third as he waited and watched for the tranquilizers to finally take effect. It was slow as Bucky continued to struggle against the drug’s drain, his body and mind turning into slow-moving molasses. Low grunts emanated from his throat as the last of his strength ebbed away, leaving nothing but forced sleep in its wake.

“Was two really necessary?” Steve asked as his shoulders finally relaxed, the strain and worry now temporarily over.

Together they dragged the drugged-up assassin into the jet’s small quarantine area for the remainder of the trip, satisfied only when they heard the mechanical locks slide into place. It wasn’t much, and they knew that and if he really wanted to there would be no stopping him from getting out, but it was something- enough to give them a few seconds of preparation if nothing else.

“I’m not giving a super soldier only a single dose, you two metabolize things like this way too fast and I’m not taking any chances with the Tin man over there.”

Bucky- no, the Winter Soldier, seemed to still be out of it when they finally landed, sat up and leaning against the wall, head slumped forward just as they had left him.

“Alright, let's just get him into one of the holding rooms for the night. We’ll work on resetting him-” Tony lifted his hands as the two men glared in his direction, “- on ‘fixing him up’ as soon as he’s been secured.”

Sam shook his head as Tony corrected himself, taking notice of the lit-up phone in Bucky’s bag, buzzing with an only recently delivered message. Sam had quickly become one of your closest friends after you were introduced to the team. He was one of the few people Bucky trusted with his life and between his sarcastic jokes, his incredibly loyal nature, and his willingness to give Bucky shit whenever he deserved it, you knew very quickly how great a friend he would be.

But now his stomach twisted as he saw your name flash across the screen, the alert quickly minimizing itself as it joined the other messages you had sent that night. How was he gonna break this to you? The last thing you needed was a bunch of unnecessary stress on your shoulders, but it’s obvious you were beginning to worry over their late return. Sliding the phone back into its rightful place Sam told himself that he’d call you once they had things more figured out.

“Heart rate still seems to be resting. With any luck, he’ll remain knocked out until we get inside,” Tony relayed as he monitored the Soldier’s vitals and pressed the button to open the heavy quarantine doors.

The doors slid into their resting positions with a soft click.

As soon as that click landed on sensitive ears, vibrant blue eyes shot open. Sparing not even a second, the Winter Soldier surged forward from his seat, not nearly as far gone as he left them to believe. With the element of surprise, the Soldier easily knocked past his teammates, throwing his body weight against them and knocking Sam and Steve off balance, leaving him a good headstart as he dashed out the jet’s open door.

“Fuck, Bucky- Wait!,” Steve swore as he stumbled out behind him, having to use his super soldier speed just to keep pace. But between the settled darkness of the night, and the winding alleyways the brunette stuck to, Steve was left falling behind in no time. “Shit,” Steve swore as he slowed to a stop, looking around for any sign of his compromised friend.

However, the streets lay barren, the fluttering of moths in the streetlights the only sign of life on the entire block.

---

The heavy thud of his boots echoed against the alleyway’s pavement. He wasn't sure where exactly he was headed as his silhouette slunk between the warm light of the streetlamps, but part of him- a currently repressed part of him- knew that safety was bound to be just ahead.

His heart beat smoothly as he kept his pace, every other step falling in time as he rounded the corner. Blindly, he let himself be led by instinct and his feet maneuvered the city’s countless paths with a mind of their own. They slowed before a little apartment building and as those emotionless eyes looked up, he knew this was it.

The lateness of the hour had almost assured that no one was around as he slipped inside, footsteps padding up the stairs before stopping at the third floor. His heavy boots left nothing but wet prints in their wake as he wandered down the hall, impossibly silent, as even the notoriously creaky boards dared not announce his presence.

The closer he got, the more the back of his mind itched, as if something- someone- was begging him not to go any further, but he refused to listen; he knew this was where he was meant to be and where he would find what his body was so inexplicably drawn to.

With each step his head turned on a swivel, looking for the sense of safety and familiarity that the other half of him seemed to find here- and desperately wished he wouldn’t discover. Just as his foot was about to take another step he stopped. ‘No. Here.’ His gut told him, turning to the door.

His door.

Your door.

The former assassin bypassed the lock with ease, quickly slipping in before shutting the door behind him. A dim light illuminated the living room, the little lamp you left on for him casting its orange glow over his surroundings as he surveyed them.

A few mugs stand beside the sink, framed photos dot the wall and side tables, and a veritable nest of blankets lay across the couch. It was obvious someone had been here, and recently. A deep breath pulled into his lungs, causing his head to tilt to the side in contemplation as an unfamiliar scent hit his nose, something just as earthy as it was sweet and speckled with distant notes of… him?

“Hmmph”

His sensitive ears picked up the soft grunt from down the hall immediately. His shoulders squared and tensed as his body leaned into a defensive position. Cautious fingers pulled the knife from his boot, ready for whatever may come at him as he approached.

The sounds of soft breaths lead him to a door left ajar. Light just slipped past the curtains into the darkened room. Badum… Badum… Badum… a heartbeat pulsed in his ears as he took a step closer, leaving the door open and letting further light fall onto the source of the noise.

His wolfish gaze ran down your form as you lay there on your back, swallowed in the extra fabric of the old sweatshirt. Your hand rested casually over your stomach as your other one squished gently against your cheek. Your legs lay bare to the world after having kicked the overbearing sheets away, leaving just a glance of your underwear for him to take in.

“Mmph” You grunted again as you shifted, your face now turned to him as that earthy scent of yours gripped him like a vice and refused to let go.

Your sweet sleep became interrupted though- much to his dismay- as the phone on your nightstand began to light up and buzz incessantly. Still, as a statue he watched as you groaned, propping yourself up on your elbows as you went to check what your device could possibly want at this ungodly hour.

With one loose fist, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes away, blinking consciousness back into them until you saw Bucky’s illuminated figure before you, standing tall and quiet as he watched you intently.

“Bucky..?” You couldn’t hide the grin that spread across your face as you saw the familiar face of your lover lit up by the bright light of your phone screen. But the longer you looked the more you noticed.

His eyes were all wrong, his gaze was devoid, that’s the only way you could put it. Devoid of meaning and humanity, it seemed every gaze- every movement- was a means to an end. Empty… save for a flicker of fear; It was probably the only thing in those eyes right now that registered as human. The fear of someone who was lost, unknowing of their purpose, and confused as to why your gaze was made his cold heart falter.

His expression was flat and stoic, save for the knit of confusion that pulled his brows together. His stance was tense and prepared, the discrete knife still glittering in his hands as he took another step forward, his head slowly shaking in response to your question.

A gasp caught in your throat as you finally understood. Glancing at your phone you saw it was Sam who was calling, undoubtedly trying to tell you what you now already knew.

“Soldat…” You whispered, trying to hide the way his name sent shivers across your skin. Your phone went black then, as you didn’t pick up in time and you were left blind by the sudden darkness.

You and Bucky had talked about what to do if you found him like this, “You call Sam and Steve, Okay? You find a place to hide and you stay far away, no matter what you hear. There’s no reasoning with him,” He had told you.

So much for that

Your phone lit up again with Sam’s urgent call, its revealing light sending ice down your spine as you saw the man nearly standing over you now, just a hair’s breadth away.

Your hand rose slowly, shaking as you tested a reach for your phone, stopping dead in your tracks as he let out a disapproving grunt. Your head nodded slowly as you gulped, returning your hand to your stomach as you watched his gaze finally shift away.

With unbothered calmness, he looked toward your phone to see Sam’s face and name scrawled across your screen. Wordlessly he reached over and pressed the ‘decline call’ button, cutting the call short and leaving you two in perfect silence once more.

Panic began to rise in your throat as his gaze turned back toward you, darkened now only by the lack of light. With slow movements the Winter Soldier reached out, putting the knife away as he crouched down, as if trying to attract a skittish animal.

Your whole body tensed as his reach came closer, eyes screwing shut as you waited for the worst, “Please… Just don’t hurt her…” You whispered, fear and desperation rattling your voice, just as it did your anxiety-filled body.

But the pain never came. Instead, the cool touch of metal fingers ran down your cheek, barely denting your flesh as he relished in its softness. Your eyes peeked open cautiously, as his fingers moved along the slope of your jaw, tilting your head up as he came to your chin.

His eyes had changed, you noticed, instead of being a harsh blizzard, they had now settled into something more human, something warmer and… yearning?

“Soldat..?” You questioned as you watched his lips part, his senses focused only on the way your body reacted to his touch. You were sure he could hear the rapid pattering of your heart beneath your ribs, its pace only increasing as his fingers moved down your neck and to the exposed collarbone in your loose neckline.

“Красивый [Beautiful]...,” was all he could reply. It came out so soft you weren’t sure you heard it at first, it’s quiet reverence meant for your ears and your ears only. “Из-за тебя он чувствует себя здесь в безопасности...? Замки дерьмовые, видимость слишком высокая, но ты… [Are you why he feels safe here…? The locks are shit, the visibility is too high, but you…]” He continued, quiet and unbothered as if he assumed you couldn’t understand him.

“He’s been bugging me to get better locks all week…” you replied with a huff, quickly shutting up as his stare found your eyes again. Between Bucky’s ramblings in the night and Natasha’s tendency to only gossip in Russian, you had made an effort to learn it; You were still learning, and your pronunciation was shit, but your understanding had gotten far better.

“And you have a good ear…” He spoke in English this time, the vague hint of an amused smile pulling at the assassin’s stern lips. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever done that before. If that odd little smile had been seen by anyone else- anyone still living that is.

A breath of relief left you as your lips stretched to mimic his, the tension easing out of your body a little by little.

His metallic touch continued to linger, running down your covered chest until it settled on the waistband of your underwear, the cool metal trailing across your ticklish skin.

“Ah, wait, Sol-” You jumped at his touch, grabbing his wrist, despite knowing you wouldn’t have the strength to stop him if it’s what he wanted.

But instead of dipping his fingers lower, he simply tugged the oversized hoodie up, gathering it over your chest and exposing the firm baby bump concealed below. His head tilted to the side as he listened to the tiny heartbeat that fluttered in your belly as well as the thuds of its little movements against your skin. Slowly, still with that inkling of a smile, he turned to look at you, his hand hovering just above your vulnerable midsection as if awaiting permission.

Heat rose to your cheeks as you hesitated. On one hand, you felt a surprising amount of calm under the assassin's touch, his need for your approval only increasing your sense of security. But on the other hand, Bucky would never be able to live with himself if something happened to you or the baby, accident or not.

“Oh. I-”

CRASH.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as were cut short by the loud noise. The door to your apartment slammed open, surely breaking the hinges with the sheer force of it. Over a dozen heavy boots stormed into your apartment as the lights turned on, flooding your senses and forcing the Soldier’s attention elsewhere.

Your hand found his instantly, the heat of his calloused skin a comfort to you just the way Bucky’s was, especially as it squeezed around yours just the same. Sitting up properly now your sweatshirt swallowed your pregnant form once again and you peeked out to see just what was going on.

Through The Winter Soldier’s defensive stance in front of you, his knife is now drawn once more, you watched a small armed group, covered in black tactical gear raid your home, all guns pointing towards you- or more accurately- the former assassin attempting to shield you. You recognized the symbols on their vests as the team’s secondary security force, having even met a few of them over the years. But where was the rest of the team? Where was Sam, and Steve, and Tony?

“Step away from the civilian!” “Put your hands in the air!” “Sir, drop the knife!” They all shouted, overlapping with each other as each of them rushed out their demands.

“Don't shoot! It’s okay! It’s okay!” You rushed.

You tried to slip your hand from his, but he only held fast, “Soldat, please… It’s okay, just do what they say… They don’t want to hurt us. Please,” You urged, giving his hand a gentle squeeze,

His defenses faltered as he listened to you beg him to stand down. It wasn’t the usual begging he heard in his line of work, and coming from your lips had his walls cracking in an unprecedented way.

He shouldn’t have looked back at your eyes, wide and pleading, as they shook his walls further. Moving slowly he turned, kneeling before you despite the way the armed group yelled at him not to. You just held up your hand to them, pleading for them to be as gentle with him as he was with you.

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” The warm flesh of his hand came up easily to cradle your face and a small smile pulled at him again as you leaned into his large palm. “Я только что нашел тебя. Я не потеряю тебя снова так быстро[I’ve only just found you. I will not lose you again so quickly]. ”

Your heart both swelled and pained for your Soldier. You looked into his eyes and saw a sense of certainty, a sense of knowing, you hadn’t seen from him earlier. “Oh… my soldier, my star,” Your fingers entwined with the hand holding your cheek, ”You can not lose me in any way that would last…” You whispered to him past the shouts, the commotion, and the tension, like you were the only two in the room.

“Sir, put the knife down!” A young squad member called again, his voice far more concerned than his superiors. You didn’t recognize him or his number and you figured he must’ve been new. His gun trembled in his hands as he shouted again, but as the Soldier failed to move and the kid’s finger unexpectedly twitched, there came a sudden-

BANG.

“Ah-!” Your face twisted with pain as you pulled away, “Fuck…!” Your hands instinctively grabbed your leg, clamping over the shooting pain in your calf that hit you- well- like a bullet.

You winced again as you pulled one of your hands back, the raw skin of your leg angrily letting you know that it did not like being brushed against. Warm, wet crimson covered your fingers as you looked down, becoming slightly dizzy at how much had already covered your palm. You were thankful it only seemed to be a graze, but the burn you already felt and knowing you were losing blood had your stomach lurching in uncomfortable ways.

Concern painted the assassin’s expression as you recoiled away from his doting touch, but as the unmistakable warm, metallic smell curled into his nose, his expression darkened dramatically. What was once kind, curious blue eyes now saw nothing but red as he caught sight of the wound slashing across your skin. His jaw set firmly, almost audibly grinding his teeth as he stood and turned to the young kid.

You looked back at the newcomer as you tried to breathe through the pain, the horrified look on his face telling you that he knew he was a dead man walking. His face went ghost white as the super soldier stalked toward him and through even worse trembling hands he raised his gun to shoot again.

“No…!”

A sickening thud rang out as the bullet hit the assassin square in his good shoulder, getting lodged in the muscly flesh. His shoulder jerked back at the force, but it wouldn’t stop his stride as he closed the gap. Another shot rang out, but with the solid vibranium arm now covering the barrel it did little to help this poor dumb kid. Snatching him by the neck, you watched as your assassin held him up until his feet kicked uselessly in the air.

Every gun immediately trained on him and with their proximity you knew they wouldn’t miss a fatal shot if it came to it.

“Stop! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! Soldier, put him down!” You yelled as you maneuvered towards the edge of the bed. “Please, don't shoot, I can fix this!” you continued, trying to convince yourself as much as you convinced them. Familiar voices joined in on your plea as Sam and Steve finally entered the picture, urgently trying to talk down both the Winter Soldier and the secondary security team.

“Bucky, It’s okay... Just put the kid down, alright?” Steve tried to reason with him, “He’s new, he doesn’t know what he’s doing yet.” Steve tried his best to stay calm and patient, but the young man was beginning to change colors now. “Bucky, put him down before you do something you can’t come back from.” But Bucky’s ears were deaf to the outside pleas and the Winter soldier refused to listen.

“Ah..!” You whimpered as you tried to stand and approach the commotion. The pain in your leg reached new heights as you tried to put weight on it, causing you to tumble to your knees almost immediately. You clutched your belly, hoping the sudden jostle wouldn’t upset the baby too much as you tried to get up again.

“Hold on, Y/n. Stay down for a minute so we can wrap your leg…” Sam asked of you, moving over to help as soon as he saw the blood on your hands, “You’re losing plenty already.”

“No, I have to…. I can’t let him get hurt,” you argued, pushing away his helpful hands as you tried to stand again. You heard the crashing thud and rushed voices as you shakily got to your feet, leaning all your weight on your good leg. As you looked up again you came eye to eye with worry-filled icy blues.

“Sol-”

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” He interrupted, his metal arm snaking around your waist to pull you in possessively and away from those who threatened your safety. On the other side of the room, the nervous kid now coughed and wheezed for breath, but you were just happy to see he was still alive.

“Please just listen to them. You’re already hurt, don’t get yourself killed…” you pleaded, your hand barely brushing over his bleeding wound before pulling his hand to your rounded belly. He tried to keep his expression steady, but you saw the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked down. “She needs someone looking out for her and I can’t do this on my own. I can’t keep away all the dangers of the world…” Your forehead rested against his as you tried to shift your weight, whining as you gave up and moved back. You couldn’t deny that this part of Bucky was her father too, even if he had been hidden away for ages, she was still his too. Whether Bucky would see it the same way you weren’t sure, but right now you were just concerned with making sure he got out of this alive.

“I can’t do this without you…”

The silence felt deafening as he considered. He never had to think about other people relying on him, not like this. His orders had always been to leave no threats, to finish his job and move on, no matter the cost to him. But the pain in his soft, fleshy shoulder was getting harder to ignore. The way his blood-soaked shirt clung to his arm now climbed to the forefront of his mind as he watched your big eyes stare back at him, desperate to understand. He was between a rock and a hard place.

“I’ll be right beside you the whole time..” You assured him, “We both will, but please let everyone get us some help.”

A gentle nudge pushed against his palm as his thoughts swirled around him, snapping him back to a single line of thought and he knew then. Defeat laid heavy on his shoulders as they slumped, accepting what must be done., “Мое солнц [My Sun] …”, He said, “Если вы так хотите, то я не буду жаловаться [If it is what you wish, then I will not complain].”

You couldn’t tell just how long you had been holding the breath you let out, your muscles relaxing as he finally held his hands up. The security squad began coming forward with an array of cuffs, but it was Sam who stopped them this time, glancing back at you for confirmation as he assured them that they could take it from here. Despite the arguing and the hesitation, they seemed to relent, shifting their focus now to their injured colleague.

Both Sam and Steve looked tired but relieved as they turned to the two of you, bloody and pained in your current state. Though they weren’t quite better; both of them looked like they had been the unfortunate punching bag of a certain super soldier mere hours before. Sam had bruises lining his arms from where he was surely blocking blow after blow and Steve smiled a bit with his busted lip, dried blood still stuck in the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s get you two to the tower…”

----

The journey to the tower was quiet, your soldier never letting you out of arms reach as you all boarded the armored truck, and made your way up the tower and to the lab.

Doctors tried to treat the both of you, but as soon as anyone dared to come close your assassin was right there to growl them back. They’d hardly be able to get past his possessive hands even if they could manage to get close, his touch keeping you pulled beside him at all times.

“Soldat…” you warned him, but he was too preoccupied gathering the medical bag they had been dropped. Coming over to you, there was no warning as he scooped you up from the ground and set you on a table to get to work.

“Oh-!” You exclaimed as you held onto his strong shoulder, quickly getting plopped back down on the corner of the cold metal table. A shiver ran down your skin as you shifted against the sleek table, watching as practiced hands scoured through the medical bag, producing everything he needed as he went about fixing up your leg wordlessly.

You were beyond thankful for the haze of the (baby-safe) painkillers as his fingers slid over the raw flesh. Despite the gentle numbing of the painkiller your fingers still lay tangled in his hair as he worked, only tugging in discomfort as the gauze wrapped tightly around your leg.

"Thank you..” You said when he finally finished, moving back to appreciate his work before giving it a satisfactory nod. His eyes had grown distant again, bits of confusion and uncertainty swirling in the storm of his eyes, and you reached out to stroke your thumb across his cheek. His stony cool expression remained as you touched him, his mouth staying a firm line as he instinctively leaned into your palm. You watched him for a moment before you continued, knowing that his thoughts must be far away.

“It's your turn now, big guy.... your shoulder is still seeping and you can’t keep losing blood like this," You urged him just as you had on the ride to the tower. He had refused to listen then, letting nothing else occupy his mind until he knew you were fully taken care of. But now as you sit safely before him, the only looming threats being Sam and Steve who seem to haunt the hallway outside, he finally relented.

You moved to stand, needing the angle to effectively dig out the bullet still lodged in his muscles, but he held you still with a single large hand on your shoulder, "Stay," he urged you with that low rumble of his. His eyes lingered on yours, ensuring you would do as he asked before he began to move again, gathering the supplies you would need.

He slid his bloody shirt off, revealing the weeping wound beneath and the scars of many wounds past. You expected him to stand in front of you, maybe sit so you could take care of him, but that didn’t seem to be the important thing right now.

He climbed up onto the cold table where you sat, curling onto his side with his back facing the door so his wounded shoulder sat closest to you. His head lay in your lap with a look of unmatched serenity as he pressed his forehead against your rounded belly. And there he rested, quiet and unmoving as he took his quiet moment. But he was far too exposed like this, far too trusting of “threats” lurking outside, and he almost reminded you of Bucky again. Was Bucky fighting to come back…? Was the Winter Soldier trusting you to watch his back? … or was he accepting of something you weren't sure he knew yet?

"Are you sure? It's going to be harder to take the bullet out this way. I don’t want to hurt you more than I have to," you tried to explain as you pulled out the forceps.

But he simply shook his head, "I know my time here is short, my Sun..." he said with an even tone, no semblance of fear to shake his voice, "Please let me enjoy it like this…."

Your voice caught in your throat as he answered, his blunt acceptance and knowing catching you off guard. You wished beyond anything that you could soothe him, to tell him no one was going to hurt him or take him away again. But you wouldn’t lie to him, so instead you said nothing, Your words rasping as you replied, "Of course, My star…."

The room was quiet as you worked, the only noise the sweet mumblings from your boyfriend's lips as he filled your baby’s ears with loving promises. His body let out a grunt and a soft squelch as you finally tugged the crushed bullet out. Pain creased his brow but his words never faltered and neither did the nudges or kicks he got in reply.

Carefully you cleaned up the blood, packing the wound as best you could, but you were sure Tony and his team would be redoing it soon nonetheless.

A sigh escaped him as he heard you putting away your tools, "My Sun?" he asked.

"Yes?"

“Is it time…?”

You cast your eyes downward, looking into those confused and swirling blues as they watched you with unbridled hope.

You nodded, wiping away the tears that welled in your eyes, “It’s time…” you whispered.

He nodded, thinking quietly as he looked down at your belly again, his hand smoothing over the skin he’s exposed, “Will I see you two again…?”

Your heart broke at the slight waver in his voice, “Oh, my star…” you said, resting your palm against his cheek, “It’s just like I said, ‘you can not lose me in any way that would last’. I’ll see you again and again, in this life and the next,” you assured as you leaned down to kiss his temple, a small smile forming at the corners of his lips. Tears blinked from your eyes as you continued, “I don’t know when, or for how long, but you will see us again. You can always come home to me, and I will always be there to welcome you.” You leaned, slow as not to scare him, and kissed him gently as he turned again to look at you.

It was awkward at first, but you didn’t mind, you couldn’t imagine the last time the Winter Soldier had felt such gentleness, let alone a kiss.

But the moment was ripped away as the door opened, Steve, Sam, and Tony all standing in the doorway. “We’re ready for him,” Tony said simply, “Let's get this started so my lab techs can go home….”

-----

You watched behind thick glass as Tony and his team of technicians attached various wires and machinery to Bucky’s body. Sam and Steve’s hands lie on your shoulders, trying to comfort you as you watch them finish tuning and placing everything. You watched as his blue eyes stared vacantly at the ceiling, as still as a statue as he let them do their work.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to watch this…” Steve tried to comfort you, but you only shook your head.

“No… I promised I’d see him off,” you replied, then thought with a pause, “Despite all the warnings Bucky gave me I’m happy I got to see him face to face…”

“Well, it helps that he wasn’t trying to beat the shit out of you…” Sam mumbled, getting an immediate nudge from you right in one of his bruises, “ Ow…okay, point taken.”

You smiled and shook your head. It was true though; despite the fear, blood, and death that dripped from his moniker, despite the pain you endured in his presence, you would do it all again. Bucky had hidden this part of him from you for so long, only ever showing you half of his face. And though you know he wouldn’t like it, you’re happy to finally see him in full light- to know and love him completely as he’s meant to be.

Tony says something that’s hard to make out through the glass, but you see him give a thumbs up to you all so he must have been ready. He moved to the switch, hesitating for a moment to let you say a quick goodbye.

Your Soldier’s eyes found yours right away, but there was no trace of sorrow for you to see, no discomfort or fear. In fact, he seemed almost excited; excited and hopeful that when he saw you next he’d have a bundle of joy to look forward to as well.

“Мое солнце [My Sun]...” you watched him say beyond the glass.

“I’ll see you again, My stars. I’m sure of it…” You replied with a soft smile.

He had just enough time to smile softly back at you, an image now pleasantly etched in your brain before Tony flipped the switch and the reset procedure began.

You covered your eyes quickly as Bucky’s body began to convulse, his strained grunts and shouts breaching containment despite the way he tried to hold it all back. The sounds of pain continued for minutes, but it felt far longer. Though, it wasn’t until it got quiet that you began to worry.

“Is it done? Is it over...?” You asked the men on either side of you, afraid to peek past your hands for fear of the worst.

“Doll…?” you heard the familiar voice call, gritty and rough from its recent use but still carrying that same soft tone he used with you.

Your heart swelled, “Bucky...?”

_____________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @simpxinnie (sorry I forgot to tag!)

It's been a while since I've written for our favorite sad man, so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!

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sungbeam · 2 months

Text

nonidol!jeong yunho x f!reader

yunho might have been the superstar out of the two of you, but you have always been the center of his universe. (you — it's always been you.)

▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, childhood friends 2 lovers, pining, popstar/singer au, swearing, fluff, humor, angst, hurt/comfort, kissing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of anxiety/nervousness, they physically cannot be apart for too long sorry they've got Attachment Issues low-key..., one kiss (is all it takes—)

▷ word count. 16.3k (guys,, this was supposed to be only like 6-8k i swear 😭)

▷ associated tunes. keep smiling (demxntia), gone too long (lullaboy), tear in my heart (twenty-one pilots)

a/n: hope u guys like this :'))) i had one of the scenes from here stuck in my brain for awhile and so i had to build the rest of the fic around it, and it turned into this monster, so uhm yes... also much love to @jaehunnyy tysm for reading thru it for me 💖

THE DAY YUNHO'S ALBUM hit the Billboard Hot 100, you knew that you were going to need a lot more hands on deck than just you, your roommate, and Jeong Yunho himself.

“There's not enough albums, not enough time in the day, not enough of you!” You exclaimed with your fingers shoved into your hair as you took in the landscape of chaos before you on your living room floor. “Yunho, why couldn't you be ambidextrous?”

His eyes widened, body frozen where he was shoving a slice of beef jerky into his mouth. “Mwe? Pwhy are pyu yellinh ap mwe por?”

“I'm not yelling at you; I'm just wondering why you weren't born with eight arms instead of just two.” There were simply too many albums for him to sign before his agent came to pick them up in two hours, and there were also too few albums for the amount of demand. You always knew your best friend would make it big one day, but you also thought he would have had a whole team by that time.

Technically, you were his team—you, your roommate Trinity, and Mingi who was at his grandmother's for the long weekend. Mingi was five texts away from driving back down to help you guys four hours ago though. But his family needed him right now, and Yunho was firm in ensuring Mingi didn't have to come down and help. We got this, he'd said. It'll be easy, he also said.

Sure. Easy.

“We can't just forge his signature?” Trinity joked in a sleep-deprived daze as she leaned back against the couch cushions. Her mouth opened wide in a yawn. “I'm kidding. Let's not ruin his career.”

Yunho swallowed his bite. “That would be nice.” He cleaned his fingers on the Wet Wipe he had handy by his thigh, then picked up his black Sharpie, spinning the writing utensil between his fingers. “Now where were we? Album number fifty-six—?”

This had taken place just four months after Yunho released his second album, Aurora. It had been nearly a year and a half since Yunho debuted himself onto the music scene, and it was about time people finally began to recognize your best friend for all that he was—multi-talented, charismatic, handsome (on some occasions; you wouldn’t let him catch you slipping up there, though).

Within the next year and a half, Yunho skyrocketed into further altitudes of fame.

There were plenty of changes that occurred, many evolutions to Yunho's team and additions to his discography, but you were always a part of it. Even with your own career dealings, you would drop anything to be there for him, and him for you. Between the morning show interviews and late night recording sessions, there were also the research presentations and study session pick-me-ups.

“Are you sure you don't wanna come with?” You asked from where you were stationed in front of the bathroom mirror, putting on the final touches for your look this evening.

You could hear Trinity's fingers clacking away at her keyboard at the speed of light through her open bedroom door. “I'd love to, but I unfortunately did screw myself over by procrastinating on this paper. Have fun though, and tell Yunho congrats for me.”

Tonight was the album release party for Yunho's third full studio album entitled Youth. It was something he had been working on for years now, only recently having become satisfied with the tracks he chose and produced for it. Due to his sudden rise in fame, the release party was said to be hosting a myriad of big name celebrities and figures in the music industry. And of course, you. You were no one special, in hindsight, but Yunho couldn't begin to imagine celebrating a milestone without you by his side.

By eight o'clock, you were ready to head out.

You bid Trinity goodbye as you hustled out the front door of your apartment and down to the street below. Yunho and Mingi and everyone else would already be at the party; you would arrive on your own via Uber. You wished you could've been with him to get ready like all the other times, but your schedule had been unfortunate as of late. You were lucky enough to have gotten off of work this early.

As you sat in the backseat of your ride, you anxiously fidgeted with your phone in your lap.

(You were, without a doubt, excited to arrive at the party. Due to yours and Yunho's ever-busy and ever-conflicting schedules nowadays—yours because of work and PhD candidacy stuff, Yunho's because of rehearsals for his upcoming world tour—it had been awhile since you were able to hang out in person. You missed your gentle giant of a best friend.)

A loud vibration from it made your heart leap into your throat, and your face lit up in the dark with the incoming notification.

rockstar 🤟: pls tell me you've left the house

You snorted and typed out a swift reply. If I told you I was still in my pajamas…

rockstar 🤟: then i would call u a liar cuz u don't go to work in pjs, weirdo rockstar 🤟: just getting antsy tbh rockstar 🤟: need my star here w me :’)))

You couldn't help the touched pout that came to your face. I'm almost there, don't worry. And who are you calling a star when that's you? He always got a little sappy when he was nervous.

rockstar 🤟: im literally not having fun here without u hurry up :// your phone: isn't this UR album release party 😭 yun, why aren't u having fun? rockstar 🤟: just hurry up your phone: aish okok 🤧 eta 8min mr. impatient

You knew it was the jitters making him say things like that. Once you got there, you hoped you could help reassure him that he could stop worrying for just a second to enjoy himself. Even if Yunho worried about the album and what people thought, you were just as nervous. You hadn't even heard the entire thing—he’d been cheeky and didn't tell you he added a song to it last minute, but you'd listened to everything else.

You just hoped that people would continue to celebrate him and give him the love he deserved.

When your Uber driver pulled into the drop off loop at the front of the venue, you thanked him on your way out and threw the strap of your small purse over your shoulder. Already, however, as you were met with the residuals of flashing camera lenses and frantic paparazzi calls just a little ways down the driveway, the anxiety slowly began to settle in the pit of your stomach.

You could see the celebrities going up the entrance with people asking them to pose for their cameras, to say a word into their recorders.

Immediately, you turned on your heel and began slipping your way to a side entrance. The last thing you wanted was for dozens upon dozens of people to be staring at you, wondering who you were and why you were important. There were definitely people who knew you—you were plastered all over Yunho's social media because that was just what best friends did. But compared to everyone else walking up that driveway? Not a chance. You were nobody, and that was ay-okay to you.

Just as you thanked one of the employees coming out the side door for letting you in, you felt your phone buzz in your hand again, this time with an incoming call.

You picked it up and squeezed it between your ear and shoulder. “You're gonna need to speak up—the kitchen is super loud.”

“You're here finally!” Yunho said to you through the phone. “I was starting to get worried.”

You chuckled as you ducked out of the kitchen and into the main lobby to get to the elevators. The party was taking place somewhere on the seventh floor… if you could get there without getting lost. “Hey Yun, do me a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Calm down, man.”

The elevator sang its arrival and you stepped inside to the sound of Yunho sucking in a deep breath, then exhaling slowly. “I am calm… wait, are you in the lobby? Let me come down and get y—”

“I just got in the elevator, so don't worry—and I really don't think you should be leaving your own party, rockstar,” you teased. “Man, Mingi and Hwa really pulled out all the stops for this place,” you marveled quietly as you gave the elevator carriage a thorough look. It was made of marble and mirrors, every surface polished and crisp, like that of a tailored suit if tailored suits were made of crystals.

“Yeah, it's really great,” he agreed. “Remember the release party we threw for Crescent?”

A fond laugh tumbled out of your lips as you stepped out of the elevator and onto the seventh floor. Your mind filled with memories of his debut album's release party hosted in yours and Trinity's living room with three extra large Domino's pizzas, root beer floats, and a cheap disco ball. It had been a party for four that night—you, Yunho, Mingi, and Trinity—but your friends didn't need the fancy shit to have fun. “Definitely leagues away from this.”

There was a bouncer at the far end of the hallway, and you were certain now that you were in the right place.

“I kind of miss it,” Yunho murmured. You heard the sound on his end shift, simultaneous to watching the doors in front of you crack open and see Yunho's head pop out into the empty hallway.

“I kind of miss it, too,” you said into the phone, your eyes locked on his and a smile blooming over your features at the sight of your best friend, in the flesh.

There was a tender gleam in his eyes as he took you in and said something in a low tone to the bouncer. He stepped out into the hallway, letting the doors behind him shut fully.

“Slowpoke,” was his greeting to you as he scooped you into his embrace. The smell of his cologne was something familiar and delicious, and permeated your senses.

“Worrywart,” you quipped back, wrapping your arms around him to reciprocate.

When you both pulled back, he kept you at arm's length so he could take a better look at you. “I can't believe you're calling me the worrywart! I do recall that one night when Aurora hit the Top 100—”

You silenced him with a look and a playful punch to his shoulder. You pressed your lips together to suppress a smile as he tilted his head back in a jovial laugh. “Quiet, you. For once, I can't believe you're more nervous than I am.”

He gave a sheepish grin, fussing with the unbuttoned collar of his dress shirt, adjusting the chain he wore on his collarbones so the clasp sat right at the hollow of his throat.

You softened. Oh, he was really nervous.

“This album's just big for me; you know that,” he said, almost like he was trying to brush it off.

“I do.” The two of you began slowly making your way back towards the party doors. “Though, I'm excited to hear this mystery song that you snuck on there. I'm sure everyone will fall in love with the album, just like I did.”

He peered over at you then, and you couldn't understand why you were unable to read his expression then. It was… different. “Really?”

You blinked. “Of course,” you replied automatically. “I mean,” you added, “it's you, Yun. What's not to love?”

Yunho seemed speechless for a second, but moments later, he was breaking into a soft-cornered smile. “You always know what to say, Yn. Come on, there are some people who are dying to meet you.”

“Dying to meet me?” You laughed as the bouncer let the two of you into the party.

The party room was a rented out lounge space with wraparound windows that looked out at the skyline in the valley below. The main lights were kept low and warm, illuminating strategic places throughout the space to highlight the prohibition-like interior design. It was something out of a 1920s speakeasy with its velvet couches and dark mahogany wood finishes.

Yunho took you over toward the side of the room to get food first. There was a variety of snacks and small bites on the buffet table, and there was a bar counter shoved into the far corner where a bartender served drinks.

“I've pretty much socialized with everyone in this room already,” Yunho murmured to you as he shoved his hands into his pockets and grinned. “Meaning I can bug you for the rest of the night.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “There has to be, like, fifty people here. We still have the whole party left.”

“Yeah, but I have more fun with you anyway,” he said with a shrug. He reached for one of the little serving cups that held a little roll of rice armed with a slice of wagyu beef on top, all wrapped together with a strip of nori. “Now these—these are fucking amazing, dude. You have to try one.”

You snorted, but grabbed one of the little cups. “How many of these have you eaten already, Yun?”

He tapped his cup against yours like he was clinking glasses together. He chuckled, averting his gaze. “We don't have to talk about that…” His eyes caught onto someone nearby, and he perked up, shoving the entire bite into his mouth so he had a free hand to flag down whoever it was. “Mmh!”

You nearly choked on your own bite as you watched your best friend, who's cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk's, flap his arm around in the air to get this person's attention because his mouth was currently occupied.

You turned your head to see who he was waving over, and nearly choked again, having to cup your hand over your mouth to prevent rice from falling out. Your eyes widened an alarming amount. “Mmno—!” You mumbled through your bite.

“What? I can't hear you,” he snickered. “Hongjoong hyung! There's someone I want you to meet.”

You made a crazed gesture—no, no, I'm not ready! How dare you ambush me with social interac—you swallowed the food in your mouth as Hongjoong made his way over. You had never met the famed Kim Hongjoong—legendary producer, prodigy musician, favorite model to ever strut down the Paris Fashion Week Runway. He dropped off the grid for a brief three-month hiatus until he suddenly reappeared, but in your best friend's Instagram story. At some point, Yunho had met Hongjoong and won his favor. Then again, it was easy for Yunho to win over anyone's favor.

No one really knew why Hongjoong disappeared like he had, but some speculate it had something to do with his new relationship status: single.

You were always starstruck seeing Hongjoong on Yunho and Mingi's social media, as well as Hongjoong's own platforms. Tonight was no exception.

Hongjoong's hair of the season was a simple light brown that complimented his skin tone and the warmth in his smile. You were used to seeing him in more extravagant garb, but tonight, he chose something very simple, but chic like Yunho.

Yunho and Hongjoong clasped hands in greeting. “What's up, man?” The latter chirped, eyes flickering over to you as you attempted to behave normally.

Yunho gestured toward you, his eyes twinkling as he swept his arm around your shoulders to bring you forward. “This is Yn. Yn, this is Hongjoong. He's the one who produced the album—”

“Now, don't downplay your own efforts, Yunho,” Hongjoong cut in with a knowing look. “You produced so much of it on your own; I fine-tuned and made a couple tracks, but the rest was all you, man.”

“I always tell him he's far too humble,” you agreed.

Hongjoong sent you a smile, extending his hand out. “Great minds think alike, Yn. It's very nice to meet the person this guy doesn't ever stop talking about.”

You laughed good-naturedly and saw Yunho's flushed sheepishness out of the corner of your eye. You shook Hongjoong's hand with a firm, confident grip. “Nice to meet you, too. You're—you’re incredible, by the way. I remember when Yunho posted a photo with you, and I literally screamed his ear off over the phone.”

Yunho winced and held a hand up to his ear, as if remembering the physical sensation of that phone call. “Yup, definitely damaged my eardrum that day.”

“Well, thank you; I'm flattered,” Hongjoong replied pleasantly. “So I'm assuming you've probably heard as much of the album as I have then?”

“I'm sure you've heard the whole thing,” you said. “Yunho has withheld one of the tracks from me, but I've listened to all the rest.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Oh? Which track did—oh.” As he and Yunho made eye contact, you watched as a silent understanding passed between them, and Hongjoong's mouth tugged upward in a teasing smile. “That song.”

You blinked. “What does that mean?”

Hongjoong flourished his hand as if to wave away the thought. “He just wanted it to be perfect, so we were working on it up to the last second. Nothing terribly concerning.”

Ah. You relaxed, but the curiosity still lingered in your mind's eye. “I'm sure it's great, nonetheless.”

“Oh yeah, you're gonna love—”

“Oh-kay! That's enough about the song,” Yunho chuckled nervously as he grabbed your shoulders and began steering you away from a clearly amused Hongjoong. “Let's go say hi to Mingi, hm?”

You threw him a look from over your shoulder, but went along with him toward wherever he'd seen Mingi wandering around. “What has gotten into you tonight?” You teased, though, you also hoped to know why he was so jittery. He wasn't even this nervous about dropping his debut album.

Yunho showed you a bright smile, the same kind of golden-retriever expression that the media knew him well for. It would have been enough if you didn't know him. “Again, it's an important album to me. And the song I added last minute is on the deluxe version, so I wasn't really confident in putting it on the original release.”

“Ah,” you murmured. You reached up to pat the hand that rested on your left shoulder reassuringly. “I'm sure it really is a great song, Yun, and I'm not just saying that. You can make an awful omelet, but you can't make an awful song.”

Your best friend bursted into laughter at the latter comment, and your heart soared to see the genuine smile on his face now. That was your Yunho shining through. “You're right—if I can't scramble eggs, at least I can write a song.”

Over the next hour and a half, Yunho took you on a tour around the room, jumping from friend to friend to introduce you to more of his world. For the most part, however, it felt like an excuse for you to bond with all his friends in teasing him about something or other. But he seemed content enough to see you getting along well with the other people close to him.

He had met plenty of your friends at your work, so it was only fair that you got the same opportunity.

At some point while you were with Wooyoung and San discussing all of the rehearsals for Yunho's upcoming world tour, Hongjoong summoned everyone's attention to announce that it was time to listen to the album. It would be a rather casual affair with the Youth album playing in the background of the party, but you were certain people would minimize their conversations to listen in.

You craned your neck to peer around the crowd to see where Yunho had gone off to. “Wait, guys, did you see where Yunho went?”

Wooyoung and San joined your search, but quickly hustled you into a nearby booth to sit and enjoy the album with your drinks. “He'll find us,” Wooyoung assured you as the three of you slipped into the leather seats. “He wouldn't miss this.”

“He'll at least be here by the last song,” San said offhandedly, his eyebrows wagging up and down.

Your lips parted, your face morphing into feigned offense. “Wait. Did he let you guys listen to the deluxe edition song, too?”

“Maybe,” Wooyoung giggled.

San cooed at your pout. “Awwh, don't take it to heart, Yn-ie. It was supposed to be a surprise for you.”

You raised your drink to your lips, sighing before taking a sip. “Everybody talks about this damn song as if he wrote it for me.”

Unbeknownst to you, the two others at the table exchanged pointed looks between one another when you were looking away. It was a wonder how Yunho was able to keep this all a secret from you. Though, even San and Wooyoung knew how busy you could get nowadays, so perhaps it really was just that easy. Plus, they had all at one point or another been privy to Yunho’s feelings—

“Speak of the Devil,” you perked up at the sight of your best friend emerging from the crowd with the others—Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, Jongho (vocal coach and album feature), and Yeosang (PR management)—in tow behind him. “We were wondering where you had gone off to.”

Yunho grinned as the lot of them squished into the circular seating arrangement with you, San, and Wooyoung. “Sorry, had to go round everyone up. The album should be queued up and ready to go.” He chose to sit on the end of the booth to your right while everyone else filled it up from the other side.

You offered him a sip of your drink, and he gladly took the glass from you. “So San and Woo were just telling me about how their tour prep is coming. You guys are leaving—what was it—two weeks from now?”

He hummed, smacking his lips as he set the glass back down on the table. “Yeah, it should be just about two weeks,” he said. His arm came up to rest against the back of the booth seat behind you. “You know, you can still come to the first stop with us…” This was said with a very pointed look at you from Yunho, followed by similar expressions from everyone else around the table.

“And you know that day’s when my supervisor holds quarterly meetings that are mandatory,” you shot back. As much as you hated the timing, the day that Yunho and the team planned to fly to their first stop on his world tour, you were required to be present for a very important meeting at work.

The Youth World Tour was something Yunho had been looking forward to and preparing for a long time. Besides working on the Youth album itself, his working hours extended over the past year or so to get ready for this major milestone. You would definitely be able to meet up with them at one of the tour stops, you just weren’t sure which one yet.

Things at your workplace were a little rocky as of late due to shifting management, but you would play it by ear. For your best friend, of course you would make it work somehow.

Your ears pricked up at the sound of strings strumming overhead and your heart leapt out of your ribcage for a moment. “Oh my god, I love this song.”

“You and me both, Yn,” Hongjoong chuckled across the table from you, reaching over so you could bump fists with him, “you’ve got good taste.”

“You’re only saying that because you wrote this one specifically,” Yunho sputtered out a laugh while rolling his eyes.

“It’s a good message,” you said, picking up your drink to take a generous gulp of it. There was a little left at the bottom of the martini glass and you swirled the liquid around before handing it over to Yunho to finish. “I think this one will definitely make it onto my work playlist.”

Yunho draped the back of his hand over his forehead, setting the now empty glass on the table. “Wow, relegated to the work playlist. Is that all I am to you?”

“You are a mood maker,” you pointed out with a teasing smile.

“Bro, you're complaining as if Yn doesn't put her work playlist on for everything she does.” Mingi arched his brows over the rims of his sunglasses. (Why was he wearing sunglasses indoors and at night? You didn't know; he said something about looking cool.)

Wooyoung chuckled. “What? So let's say you're trying to sleep—”

“Yah, I have a different playlist for that! I'm not completely unreasonable.”

“Completely,” Yunho and Mingi said at the same time, then looked at each other with wide, excited eyes. They bursted out laughing at once, too, leaving you to deadpan at the two clowns to your eleven o'clock and three o'clock.

You sighed. “I hate you guys.”

That only made them laugh louder, spurring on the others to crack smiles and for you to do the same.

Yunho calmed slightly, his cheeks hurting from smiling. “Aw, you walked right into that one, Yn.”

“So you're saying you are, in some capacity, unreasonable—oh my god, don't hurt me!” Mingi shrieked as he shoved Yeosang's body in front of him like a human shield as you lurched forward and threatened to grab him.

Yeosang sent Mingi a dirty look as he wrestled out of his neighbor's hold. “Dude.”

“Jongho, protect me.”

The vocal coach popped the olive from his martini into his mouth. “If you can't handle the heat, hyung, stay out of the kitchen.”

You nodded, raising your pointer finger up. “Exactly.”

For the next hour, you and your friends shared good company and conversation, while also commenting on, praising, and enjoying the tunes from Yunho's Youth album. There were a good thirteen songs featured on the album, and while most of them were inspired by real life, you remembered the days and nights when Yunho would break out the white board under his bed to draw out a concept map of the storyline he'd created in his head for some songs. It was like a miniature Easter egg hunt for fans to piece together from album to album.

When the clock hit nearly midnight, you recognized the song that marked the end of the conventional album—track number thirteen, 22. It was a song that reflected and lamented on his early stages of adulthood, all the goods and bads, all the hopes and dreams he had left. It was something that tied the regular album with a satisfying bow, but you were also giddy to hear the secret fourteenth deluxe track.

But as his ethereal voice from 22 faded out, the same guitar chords from the first song of the album began to play.

Everyone at the table paused in confusion.

“Uhh, I thought you were revealing the hidden track tonight, Yunho?” Seonghwa asked from across the table.

Yunho tilted his body out of the booth to peer into the sound booth at the very back of the lounge, a furrow in his brow. “I thought I was, too,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Yunho disappeared past the door to the sound booth. You frowned as Hongjoong excused himself to catch up with him, mumbling something about helping with any technical difficulties.

In retrospect, it wouldn't be the biggest deal if you didn't get to hear the song tonight. You would simply listen to it when the deluxe album dropped in about a week, but you wouldn't deny that you were a little disappointed. Everyone else at this table had already listened to it—why had Yunho not shared it with you yet? Did he think you would judge him or not like it? You didn't think you were ever so harsh a critic, but that would explain why he was so nervous all night.

Regardless, you remained positive.

When Yunho and Hongjoong returned to the table, the rest of you all looked on to them expectantly.

“Something wacky is going on with the system right now and won't play the file for the hidden track,” Hongjoong huffed. He passed Yunho a sidelong glance, and you saw how Yunho avoided his friend's eyes like the plague. “Sorry to disappoint, Yn.”

Everyone's attention whipped toward you, and you straightened like a deer caught in headlights. “Oh, uhm, it's no biggie,” you said. You glanced over at Yunho who, if anything, seemed guilty. Or maybe it was just something apologetic. “Really—I can wait for it to drop officially.”

You didn't like how the air seemed to shift during this exchange, as if all the other boys were sitting on the edges of their seats, faces morphed into mixed ranges of confusion and disbelief.

You cleared your throat. “Anyone want more drinks?”

As the night waned and the party came to a close, you found yourself being helped into another Uber car to head home. After the supposed tech glitch, the remainder of the party passed by without a hitch. At the very end, Yunho popped open a theatrical bottle of champagne for all his guests to close out the celebration.

The backseat door closed just as Yunho ducked in with you, his hand waving out the window to San, Wooyoung, and Jongho passing by along the curb.

The alcohol had gradually made its way to your brain, and there was a light buzzing at the base of your skull that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. You yawned, leaning your head against Yunho's shoulder.

He chuckled, one of his hands coming up to gently pat your head. “Tired?”

“Mhm,” you hummed as your eyelids fluttered closed. “You didn't have to lie, y'know.”

You felt his shoulder tense under your cheek. If only you could feel the rapid beating in his chest, then he'd be as good as done.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” he replied innocently, nimble fingers running over the chain links of his wristwatch.

Your eyes cracked open slowly. “Yunho.”

A beat passed, then he sighed. “Are you mad?” He asked quietly and his hand nearest to you found yours as he began to mindlessly inspect the chipped nail polish on your fingertips.

“No, silly. Why would I be mad?” When he didn't respond right away, you let out an exhale of your own. “I mean, I could tell you were nervous about me listening to the song all night. And if you weren't ready for me to listen to it yet, then I totally get that, and I'm okay with waiting. I just would rather you tell me that instead of make Hongjoong lie for you.”

He stopped playing with your fingers. “I'm sorry, for the record. Thank you for understanding.”

You hummed in reply.

The drive continued on with the accompaniment of a random radio station playing on low volume. You weren't going to fall asleep just yet with the alcohol still working its way through your system, but you kept your eyes closed nonetheless.

“I missed you, you know?” Were his first words to break the next silence.

A small smile wormed its way onto your face. “I missed you, too. I feel like we haven't seen each other in forever.”

He chuckled, the low sound rumbling through his chest and into your ear. “Texting can only take us so far. Isn't that crazy? We can't even survive a week without hanging out, but we're… we're about to be separated for so much longer timewise and distance-wise.”

You grumbled. “Don't remind me—wait. Has it really only been a week?” You peeked one eye open, a frown coming to your lips. “No way.”

Yunho smiled, shaking his head. “Believe it or not, stargirl. It's been only a week.”

“In-fucking-sane.”

“You're telling me.”

“How are we going to survive?” You pondered aloud, genuinely. If you couldn't fly out to see him within the first handful of tour stops, you and Yunho at the soonest wouldn't be able to see each other for three weeks. And if you couldn't escape your work duties and your PhD responsibilities, then it would be longer than that. “You're gonna have a closer relationship with your Valorant account than me.”

Yunho snorted. “I already have a closer relationship with my Valorant account than you.”

“Shucks.” You breathed out. “Guess I'll just text Hongjoong then. You know what he told me tonight when we were exchanging numbers? All eight of you nerds have a group chat and he gets ignored like a mom in a family chatroom.”

Your comment made a laugh tumble out of Yunho's mouth. “Did he make that analogy?”

“No, Seonghwa did when he overheard.”

A wheeze. “That tracks.” Yunho licked his lips as he turned his head slightly to glance down at you leaning on his shoulder. With his free hand, he warmed his palm over your head like he could keep you here forever. “So what's this about texting Joong?”

You shifted your position to get more comfortable and clung to his arm to press yourself closer. There was still a little ways to go before you reached your apartment. “I told him offhandedly that I wanna pick up a new hobby… something about crocheting or something, and apparently that guy is like… amazing at everything, so he's gonna help me out.”

“Ah.” The sound was quiet. “I'm glad you guys got along.”

You smiled to yourself. “Me too. He's really cool.”

“Not cooler than me though, right?”

You blindly reached over to pat his chest in warm reassurance. “Don't worry, big guy. I guess you're still the coolest guy I know.”

He clicked his tongue at you with a weak chiding, “Yah. You only guess? Don't tell Mingi that.”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of it.”

The Uber eventually pulled up along the curb outside your apartment complex. You lifted your head up from Yunho's shoulder and woke yourself up with a good stretch of your limbs.

He helped you out of the car, handing you your purse when you finally got your bearings. “Are you sure I can't walk you up? You look like your knees are about to buckle,” he chuckled.

You shook your head. The cool evening air was helping your brain to sober up. “No, no. Don't worry about it—I’m not as drunk as that one year.”

“Dear heart, how could I forget,” he teased. “Mingi still has the recording of when you begged to be bridal carried.”

Your face warmed at his mention of that memory and you wrinkled your nose at him. “I was gonna say ‘I love you’ along with goodnight, but I suppose not.”

Yunho froze. “What?”

Maybe you really weren't sobering up, because you didn't catch his strange reaction. “Nevermind,” you said flippantly. “Love you, Yun. Good night. Get home safe!”

He seemed to unfreeze, his lungs filling with breath again. A soft smile melted onto his pretty lips as he looked on toward you with a warm fondness. “Love you, too. Good night, Yn.”

He remained where he was outside the car door as he watched you dig your keys out from your purse and open the complex door. When you had one foot inside, you stopped, and turned back to him with a big grin on your face. “Hey!”

“Hey?” He laughed.

“I'm proud of you.”

For the thousandth time tonight, you made him lose his breath, his hold on reality. He swallowed—he wanted to kiss you. “I love you. Get some rest, stargirl.”

You waved to him in reply and he waved back. Then you disappeared through the door and left him there, his heart full and beating fast, the longing in his chest weighing heavier than before.

When you and Yunho were thirteen, you spent the longest period of time away from each other for the rest of your lives. It measured to about one summer break long when Yunho flew to South Korea to spend the entire vacation there and you could do nothing but chat with him via good, old fashioned e-mail.

Now that the two of you were older, even a couple days dragged on like an eternity. And because of your clashing and stacked schedules, a couple days almost always bled into a week.

A week since the release of Youth marked the inevitable release of its deluxe edition and the ever mysterious fourteenth track.

“Yn, wait, can you just help me finish this set of primers?”

You were this close to escaping the lab before one of your colleagues caught you. Taking a deep breath, you resolved to turn back and help them out. One less thing to worry about later, right? You could still listen to the track once you got home.

Except you couldn't, at least not right away. You saw the email on the bus ride home:

Hello TAs! One of your peers has unfortunately been involved in a motorbike accident early this evening. We have been informed that they will recover to full health, but because they are hospitalized, we will need to redistribute responsibilities regarding grades and as to who will cover their TA sections…

You skimmed down the email's contents, knowing you wouldn't be the one filling in as an actual TA. Because you were a first year graduate student in your first quarter, you opted to start off with grading work for now. But even if you didn't have to deal with a whole section of undergraduates, you could feel the blood drain from your face.

“You've gotta be shitting me,” you said, then slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized you'd said that aloud. You mouthed a sheepish “sorry” to a parent and her child nearby, then ducked your head to look at the contents once more.

There was no way they wanted—no, needed—all of those graded by tonight.

This was cruel and unusual punishment, but you knew you were going to do it anyway.

By the time you finished grading, shoveled dinner into your mouth, and took a therapeutically scalding hot shower, it was sometime past two in the morning. Thank fuck it was Saturday.

It was less than twelve hours later that you settled into the passenger seat of Yunho's Lexus sedan with a pair of shades covering your dehydrated, puffy eyes from the world and whatever paparazzi was stalking his car. Yunho glanced over at you with barely concealed amusement. “Well, good morning, princess.”

“You can't see it but I'm glaring at you,” you grunted as you strapped yourself in with the seatbelt. “I can't believe you wake up before noon now.”

“Unfortunately,” he chuckled, peeling his car away from the curb. After an unsatisfactory six hours of sleep, Yunho had woken you up with the obnoxiously loud sound of your phone ringing. You managed to negotiate for him to pick you up in two hours rather than half an hour—and now here you were. You never truly considered yourself a breakfast person and you would have happily slept all the way to lunch, but even through the exhaustion, you wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see you.

He would be gone by the end of the week, after all.

You leaned your head back against the headrest. “I used to have to lure you out of bed with the smell of bacon. Remember when you ate that entire plate of raw-ass bacon and pancake batter that Mingi made?”

Yunho let out a loud laugh that made you smile. He glanced over at you. “Bro,” he sighed, shaking his head, “you know I'll eat anything. Oh my gosh, I will never forget the horrified look on your face when you came out of the bathroom and found out what happened.”

“You looked like a kicked puppy when I told you that you shouldn't have eaten raw bacon,” you snorted. You'd felt so awful that Yunho was such a good eater who didn't complain; he didn't have any negative side effects afterward, thankfully, but you swore to never let Mingi in the kitchen or to let Mingi feed Yunho ever again, so long as you lived.

There was a café a few minutes drive from your apartment complex that the two of you liked to go to. It was a little hole in the wall, located on the second floor above a pet shelter, and the entrance could only be accessed through the stairs in the next-door alleyway.

Yunho adjusted the beanie over his bangs and you shifted your sunglasses up to the top of your head as you entered the establishment. There were a few people seated in the area to the right, but something you liked about this place was its hidden gem quality. (And the drinks and food they served, of course.)

“Hi, welcome in!” The barista behind the counter called before ducking behind the espresso machine. “Give me two seconds, and I'll be right with you.”

“No worries, take your time,” Yunho chirped back as he scoured the menu, eyes squinting and tongue darting out to wet his lips.

You had a general idea of what you wanted already, and you let Yunho know what it was before slipping off into the restroom.

By the time you emerged from the back hallway where the washrooms were, Yunho had finished ordering and was standing by one of the open two-seater tables by the far window with the soft autumn sunlight painting over his features. For a second, you stood at the opening of the hallway, just admiring him. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep making you envision the sunlight dancing around him as he sat down in one of the seats.

Heat rushed up your neck as your eyes met across the café. Gazes locked, you stood frozen, but a smile bloomed on your best friend's face like the coming of spring. It was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

And then he made a face, cocking his head to the side like a puppy with a question. 'Why are you just standing there?’ He seemed to ask.

You shook yourself out of whatever strange daze you'd slipped into, then walked over to join him.

“You okay?” He asked as you took the seat across from him, a teasing lilt to his voice, yet there was still concern in the curve of his mouth.

You waved said concern away. “Yeah. I think I'm still waking up or something.”

“Ah,” he nodded in understanding. He frowned. “What time did you go to sleep last night?”

“Like… some time past two.” On cue, you let out a large yawn, lifting your sleeve up to cover your mouth. “It's okay. I'll just sleep early tonight or something. One of the other TAs got into an accident, so we just had to do some make-up work and I just happened to get home late as it was.”

You could already see the guilt manifest on his face for waking you up, and you were swift to add, “I'll be fine with food and coffee, so 's alright. What about you? How'd you sleep last night?”

“I slept decently,” he replied, leaning forward to rest his cheek against his fist. “I didn't end up dropping the deluxe album, so it was a little more restful than—”

Your brain took a second to catch up. The… the deluxe album… oh. Your eyes went from half-mast to wide open. “You—you didn't release the deluxe? Sorry, I was so busy yesterday that I didn't check my socials.”

“Don't worry about it,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But yeah, I told my manager that I still wasn't ready to release it to the public just yet. I don't know when I'll postpone it to, but it probably won't come out until while I'm on tour.”

Ah. There was that disappointment settling in the pit of your stomach again. This wasn't about you, but why did it seem like he was avoiding your eventual listening to this song? He was almost always sending you audio files without prompting, so what made this one different?

Nonetheless, it wasn't your song. You would respect Yunho's privacy if he wanted to keep this one to himself and his friends.

You unconsciously rubbed your arm. “Oh okay. Yeah, I mean—take your time, Yun. I'm glad you don't feel pressured to release it when you aren't ready.”

His expression softened to something tender that made your chest feel fuzzy. “You'll listen to it soon, I promise.”

The barista called out Yunho's order number, and your friend stood up to go retrieve it. You sighed as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt and peered over your shoulder as a pair of newcomers asked him for his autograph and a picture. You watched the pleasant smile spread on Yunho's face as he conversed with them as easy as breathing air, alongside the faint blush over his cheekbones.

No, you didn't know what had gotten into you this morning.

“No, no. You have to loop it through this piece here—yeah, there you go.”

You were so concentrated on following Hongjoong's directions that you didn't even register the sound of Yunho's front door opening and closing. Hongjoong clicked his tongue and scooted closer so he could direct your hands and the crochet hook himself.

“Uhm… hey?”

Both yours and Hongjoong's heads whipped up at the sound of Yunho's confusion. He stood at the entrance to the living room area where, scattered all around you and Hongjoong, were clothes, toiletries, and other essentials laid out for Yunho to throw into his bags.

Tonight marked the evening before Yunho and the team were to set off on the Youth World Tour. Tomorrow, they would fly out sometime in the afternoon, which meant that you would have time to send them off before heading to work and class. However, because you hadn't seen Yunho since this past Saturday when he dragged your ass out of bed for breakfast, you invited yourself over to his apartment to oversee his packing. Hongjoong just so happened to be swinging by Yunho's apartment and you asked if he was up for an impromptu crocheting lesson.

Hongjoong arrived some time while Yunho ran out to the Chinese place down the block to grab dinner, and the two of you had been hunched over the ball of yarn and hook ever since.

“Oh, you're back!” You exclaimed. In your distracted state, Hongjoong took the opportunity to take the crochet piece from you and subtly fix the mistakes you made.

Yunho's brows creased, eyes darting from you to Hongjoong as he slowly placed the takeout bags on the semi-cleared coffee table. “Yeah… Joong, when did you get here?”

You leaned forward to help clear off the rest of the coffee table and to also assist in unpacking all of the takeout containers. Yunho shucked the baseball cap he was wearing off to the side, carding a hand through his dark locks.

“Like… seven minutes ago,” he replied cheekily. His mouth curled into something mischievous as he locked eyes with Yunho. “I can leave, though, if you wanted to be alone—”

“Hyung—”

“I'm messing with you,” he snickered as he handed you the yarn and hook. “I only came by to drop off the emergency backup files hard drive and to give Yn-ie a sneak peek of her crocheting lessons to come.”

(Yunho's eyes narrowed a millimeter. Yn-ie?)

You set the unfinished crochet square down on the couch to walk Hongjoong to the door. “Are we still on for tomorrow, by the way?”

“What's tomorrow?” Yunho twisted around where he was seated on the floor to watch you and Hongjoong make your way to the front door.

“You,” said Hongjoong with raised eyebrows at your best friend, “are going on a plane with everyone else. Because I'm not leaving until the day after tomorrow, Yn and I are bonding over lunch after we see you all off.”

You and Hongjoong finished up finalizing plans in the doorway, followed by amiable farewells. Yunho called out a “good night” to his friend as Hongjoong slipped out the door, and left you and him to the apartment by yourselves.

You claimed the spot on the floor next to him and accepted the pair of wooden chopsticks he extended to you. “I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to invite him in. I probably should've asked,” you said sheepishly as you snapped the chopsticks apart.

“Oh, no, he's been over quite a few times, so it's all good,” he replied swiftly. “I just didn't expect you two to be so close.” He added a laugh at the end that sounded more nervous to him than it was supposed to.

“We've been texting back and forth, but I guess so. Nothing like the two of you,” you jested, lifting your eyebrows up and bumping your elbow against his.

Yunho grinned. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“You guys spend all that time together in the studio—WHA—NO! Keep those hands to yourself!” You shrieked, rolling out of the way to dodge his hands that threatened to tickle you into submission. Yunho had thrown his head back in a carefree laugh, a beautiful expression in itself, that had you reciprocating.

When you were sure he wasn't going to attack you (affectionately), you scooted back over to your original spot next to him. He smiled to himself at the sidelong glance you casted him, and he went and grabbed one carton of rice for himself and the other for you.

“Thank you for dinner, by the way,” you told him as you opened up your carton, his somehow already opened and spilling over with food.

You once again caught him with his mouth full, and Yunho swallowed the bite of food he had before replying. “Yeah, man. Of course.”

“I swear that I will definitely get the next meal we have—”

“Yn.” He touched the back of his hand against your arm to draw your attention to him. “You literally were the one to make sure I made it out of college alive, like, I can never thank you enough for how much you did for me then and continue to do for me now.”

You swallowed, suddenly blown back by the way he looked at you right now. “I did it because I care about you, Yun. It's not something I expect to be repaid for.”

“I know,” he said with a nod, lips pulled into a tender smile that made your stomach do flips. This was the look no one else got to see from him. Sure, he could fill stadiums of people who would see his big, bright grin that shone brighter than the sun, but… but this one, this smile, was yours. “That goes the same toward this meal, okay?”

Yunho notched his finger under your chin and tilted your head up slightly to meet his eyes. “Don't worry about it.”

You set your carton of rice and chopsticks on the table, he copied your movements, and you wrapped each other in your mutual embraces. The startling realization that you wouldn't see him for longer than a week from tomorrow onward rushed toward you like the coming of a tide to shore. Before you knew it, the water was up to your knees, and you—what were you going to do without him here?

“I miss you already,” you whispered.

You felt him squeeze you tighter, nose pressed against the side of your neck. “I won't be gone too long.” A promise.

“Thank god Seonghwa and Wooyoung can cook.” At the sound of his snort from above your head, you squawked out in your defense, “Who else is gonna make you bacon and pancakes in the morning when you’re dead tired?”

“Hey! I can fry bacon, I’ll have you know!”

You pulled away from him so he could see the look of pure disbelief on your face. “Okay, rockstar. I believe you.”

He scrunched his nose up at you. “That’s not very convincing.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Yunho scoffed, reaching over to flick your nose. You let out a sound of indignation and rubbed your nose, a scowl on your face at Yunho’s very pleased expression. And even if you were currently conspiring on how to get back at him, you couldn’t help but resolve something right that second—you would do everything in your power to see his show in two weeks’ time—to see Yunho in two weeks’ time.

The thing about cheap plane tickets was that the cheaper you bought them, the less “amenities” that it came with. The one you’d purchased specifically for two weeks in the future did not allow you a refund. This meant that if something were to arise, you would be a good several hundred dollars poorer, and your plans to surprise Yunho at his show would fall completely through the floor.

Good thing you weren’t about to let that happen, right? …Right?

“You’re sick.” Those were your roommate Trinity’s first words to you as you stumbled out of your bedroom and found her perched on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. She fixed you with an unimpressed look as she stirred around her morning coffee.

“I’m not—” Your own response was cut off by one very untimely cough into your elbow. You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste at the back of your throat. Great. “—sick.”

“And I’m Oprah,” she deadpanned.

“You could be.” Did you really sound as much like a dying walrus as you thought you did? Holy shit.

She stood up from her stool, setting her coffee cup on the counter, then walked over to you to direct you back into your room. “I’m not permitting you exit from this apartment until you're better. Back to bed with you.”

“But—”

“No buts! If you wanna still be able to fly by the end of this week, then you have to get better, Yn.”

You really, unfortunately, could not argue with that. Nearly a week and a half had passed since Yunho started touring. Opening night had been a massive success, as you’d seen the broadcast and read the reviews on social media. In the concert photos and videos slowly being released online, there was no doubt in your mind that Yunho belonged onstage. He was radiant as a diamond in each depiction of him, and he sounded better and better each night.

Suffice to say, you were beyond proud and happy for him.

In order to make your surprise successful, you informed Yunho’s team of your plans so they could help you get into the concert once you arrived. Your part consisted mainly of finishing all of your work ahead of schedule so you weren’t swamped when you got back. It was nearing the end of the term, meaning there was lots to grade and study, but when you had a goal, you were determined.

The only downside was that, between the long days and nights of work, your body couldn’t fight against the swift rush of early winter air that swept through the city in the past week. Your working hours stretched out longer and longer until your body just… gave up. Or at least, it was giving up.

After calling in sick to your workplace, you crashed back into bed for what you hoped to be a restful nap. Maybe when you woke up, this would all just turn out to be a 24-hour fever.

(It was not a 24-hour fever.)

You didn't even know what time it was when you woke up groggy and your head pounding like there was an active construction site taking place in your skull. Your bedroom was dark, and the world outside your window was also dark. The sound of your phone ringing drilled into your cranium, and you groaned as you felt around your mess of blankets and sheets for wherever that damned thing was—

“Hello?” You croaked into the receiver when you finally grabbed ahold of your phone.

There was a pause on the other end, and you were about to ask who it was when they responded. “Oh my god. You're sick.”

Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of your best friend's voice and you shoved your face into the pillow. “I'm not sick.”

“Yn, sweetheart, you literally have the sexy sick voice.”

“You think I'm sexy?” You asked in a drowsy, unwell daze. “But anyways, I'm not—” You lifted your face into your elbow in time to practically hack out your lungs. You groaned. “Okay, maybe I am sick.”

Could things get any worse?

You could hear the frown in his voice. “You sound like my worst nightmare.”

“Am I sexy or your worst nightmare? You need to pick an adjective.” You whimpered as you struggled to pull yourself up into a sitting position.

“At least I know it did nothing to that attitude of yours,” he laughed. He sobered for a moment when he heard you groan as the blood rushed to your head. “Hey, do you have meds with you? I can order some and have them there in half an hour.”

You waved him off, even though he wouldn't be able to see. “No, it's okay. I should have taken an ibuprofen before I crashed. I'm sure we've got extra Nyquil around here somewhere…”

You attempted to stand up, a swear falling from your mouth as the vertigo hit you and sent you tumbling back down onto the edge of the bed.

“Yn, I'm sending you medicine—and dinner. That one bistro near your apartment is still open, right? I'll let Trinity know that deliveries are on the—Yn?”

You lifted your head and broke out of your return to unconsciousness. “Hm? Sorry… I did not hear anything you just said.” You rubbed your hand down your face and scooped your phone up to make your way out of your room. You somehow made it to the door, and you leaned against the doorjamb as you pushed out into the dark hallway. “You don't have to send anything, Yun. Trinity's studying for her law school finals, so I don't wanna bother her. Plus…”

You opened up the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and bit back a sigh of disappointment. No cold medicine. There was pain medication, at least, so that should hopefully help you fall asleep again.

At your lack of words, Yunho asked, “No medicine?”

“No, I have some medicine,” you countered. “Just—not the right ones.” Before you could swallow any pills, you hacked out another lung into your elbow; you swore your coughs were sounding worse and worse.

“You know what? I'm flying home—”

You slammed the pill bottle on the bathroom counter. “Don't—what? Yunho, do not fly home. It's literally just a little—” You coughed, “—cold. You have another show in two days. If you show up on my doorstep, I'm not opening the door.”

From the silence on his end, you knew he wasn't in total agreement with you. Maybe the bottle slamming was a little much, but his statement had surprised you. It didn't make sense for him to drop everything for you when you were experiencing something so trivial as a cold.

Not unkindly, you said to him, “I appreciate the concern, but you have bigger things to worry about and care about.”

“You will always be the most important thing I care about.”

His admission was so sincere that your heart gave a violent palpitation in your chest. You struggled to swallow, and it wasn't just because your throat was sore. “And I feel the same way about you,” you murmured, “but I can take care of myself, okay? I'll be back to normal in no time.”

You heard a sigh from his end. “I know; you're right. I just… wish I was there with you right now.”

You could understand that—it was how you felt. But some things couldn't be helped, and Yunho needed to be where he was and you needed to be where you were. You could hold down the fort while he was gone taking over the world by storm.

You closed the bathroom door to give an extra barrier between your voice and where Trinity was studying in her room. After knocking back a couple painkillers, you seated yourself on the floor with your back against the bathtub and your knees pulled up to your chest. “You know what's kind of ironic?” You coughed into your elbow and wrestled down another one bubbling up in your throat. You shouldn't have been speaking so much, but you could deal with the repercussions later. “I think I freaked out when you said you were going to fly home, not just because that's insane, but also because I was going to surprise you by flying out to your show in a couple days.”

He sucked in a breath. “You were gonna come surprise me?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, swiping at your nose and tucking your chin to your knees. Then you had to go and screw it all up, and you couldn't even get your money back. You pretty much accepted that you weren't going to be better by the time the day rolled around, especially not for travel. “I'm sorry I couldn't come see you.”

“No, don't be sorry!” He cooed. “I'm—I’m really sorry you're sick and I'm sad you couldn't make it, but… but think of it this way, hm? As soon as you get better, I'll fly you out to whatever city I'm in and we can hang out and you can come to the concert. All you have to do is get better for me.”

You didn't know if your schedule would allow after this setback, but you were going to remain optimistic. With a small glimmer of hope peering through your chest, you replied, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he said, and you could hear the fond smile in his voice.

“By the way,” you began, and had to clear your throat from how congested it was getting. Maybe some hot tea would do you good. You clambered to your feet to get out of this bathroom and do just that. “Was there a reason you called originally or was it just to say hi?”

A beat of hesitation passed between your question and his answer. “Ah…” There was a wince in his voice, “I, uhm, called because I wanted to know if you'd seen something online, but obviously you haven't 'cause you were asleep, but…”

Seen something online? Your movements with your electric kettle paused. Had someone posted something about Yunho? “What is it, Yun?” Who's ass did you need to beat?

“Seonghwa hyung found out that someone leaked the hidden track online a few hours ago.”

You leaned your cheek against your palm, eyebrows knitting together. “Shit, dude. I'm so sorry,” you said with a frown. That meant some rando on the internet had hacked into someone's files and leaked the song.

A sharp exhale from Yunho's end. “Yeah, I dunno. We're working on getting it taken down right now, but in the event it can't be done soon enough, I think I'm just gonna release the deluxe version in a couple hours.”

It seemed by his response that it wasn't the hacking that was his primary concern. Leaked, unreleased songs happened to every major artist in the industry, and it had most definitely happened to Yunho before this. But this time… this time felt different. You knew how hesitant he was to release this, and having the track get released to the public on terms that weren't his? Well, that just wasn't fair.

“You don't,” you said softly, reaching for a mug in the top cabinet to plop your tea bag into, “have to release it officially right now. You can still wait until you're comfortable.”

You heard sounds of shuffling on his end, followed by the sound of a door opening. You thought you heard Yeosang's voice as he murmured something to Yunho. The exchange was swift, but it reminded you that your time with your best friend here was limited.

“Do you need to go?” You asked, trying to cover up your hope that he didn't have to with nonchalance.

He hummed. “It's okay, I have a few minutes left. They want me to 'okay’ a couple things out on set, but that can wait. Uhm… as for what you said about releasing it—I,” he sighed, “I think this was the push I needed to finally drop it, y'know? I think either way I was going to be scared for—for people to hear it—for you to hear it. But uhm… yeah. That's all I wanted to say. I think it'll probably be released whenever you wake up.”

You poured the hot water of your tea bag, setting the kettle down gently. Letting the steam rise up to help clear your congestion, you could finally think a little clearer now. “I'm sorry this didn't happen on your terms.”

“I appreciate that. I hope you like the song—I… I really hope you like the song.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I'm going to like the song, rockstar. You have nothing to worry about, I promise.”

He let out a small laugh and the sound of his happiness, however big or small, made your chest feel heavy. “I’ve missed you so much,” he rasped out. “So much.”

You pressed your forehead to your fist, willing the prickling feeling of tears at bay. “I wish I was there—I’ve wished I was there with you the moment you left. But I'm so, so proud of you. I know I've said this before, but you belong on that stage, Yunho. I'll be there… I'm always there in spirit.”

“You can't say that and expect me not to fly my ass home right now.”

You sputtered out a laugh, which was probably a bad idea, because it led to an utter disaster of a coughing fit. When you finally managed to get a reign on things, you picked up your mug of tea and took a couple ginger sips. It was still piping hot, but whatever scalding temperature it was at somehow soothed your throat and your head.

You set the cup down. “Again, I'll be there in no time, I promise.”

“You swear on your life?”

You sighed, but you pressed your lips into a smile. “I swear on my life.”

Yunho's departure from this call was imminent, and so you made further promises to get plenty of rest and to take care of yourself. You only did so when he promised to do the same for himself. Just after you both hung up, you received a text message from him: Stay up for five more minutes!! The delivery's almost there.

You huffed out a rough-sounding laugh, and bit your tongue around a smile. Of course he had still ordered you stuff. You shook your head to settle on one of the kitchen stools to nurse your tea and wait for the delivery to get here.

When the driver was safely out of bounds of your door, you poked your head out into the hallway to grab the paper bags seated on your doorstep. You had only expected medicine and maybe dinner, but not only were there cold medicines, orange juice, and hot soup from the bistro down the street, but there was a bouquet of flowers there, too.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you pulled everything into the safety of your apartment. Damn Jeong Yunho and his gestures. It didn't mean anything—they were just Get Well Soon flowers, but why did you kind of wish they were more than that?

The Youth album's fourteenth track entitled your space hit the charts at number two. By the time you woke up, still sick as hell, the track had been officially released for about eight hours. You rolled over in bed to guzzle down half a bottle of water and cold medicine, then grabbed your phone.

It seemed that social media blew up while you were asleep. The deluxe drop was trending under a couple different tags, and based on initial skims, you were happy to report that most had everything good to say about it.

Though, some of the commentary made you pause. He has to be seeing someone, said one user. Look at these lyrics. These could only be produced by a man in love.

You had to swipe out of the app at that point. Instead, you went over to yours, Yunho's, and Mingi's group chat together where Mingi and Yunho had waged a meme war while you were asleep after Mingi wished you a “Get Better Soon” message. You sent back your own meme in response and opened your music streaming app to find track fourteen.

The boys would probably all be asleep by now, so they wouldn't respond any time soon.

You found your space exactly where you thought it would be, at the very bottom of the deluxe album. You sat yourself up against your headboard, plugged your earbuds in, then hit play.

If only you knew how much it would rock your world.

Hongjoong was never wrong about his hunches. It had been about a week and a half since you came down with an awful cold and couldn't make it to your intended surprise show, and slightly less than that since the deluxe album dropped. Even before the tour started, life was a whirlwind, but now that the tour was only ramping up further from this point, it had been nothing short of a total rush.

Different cities every week, at least two nights a city—all of it took a toll on both the staff and artist involved. Hongjoong's hunch, however, regarded the artist in particular as he watched said artist keep his smile up to say goodnight to the remainder of the stadium workers who lingered for cleanup. Yesterday was their last show date in this city, and today, Yunho and his team had come by to help load everything up for transport to their next destination. Tomorrow, they would fly out and be in the next city to begin preparing for the next round.

But as Yunho began making his way toward the exit where Hongjoong was waiting for him, it was impossible to miss the immediate exhaustion that flooded his features. He carded a hand through his hair as he checked his phone, then pocketed it in the back pocket of his pants.

“Hey,” Yunho nodded to Hongjoong as he met him at the exit and they both walked out into the chilly evening together. There was already a car waiting at the curb to take them back to their hotel—there was still so much that needed to be done before they left for the airport tomorrow.

“Hey,” he said back. “Everything okay?”

Yunho glanced over at him. “Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm fine; just tired. I think it's a good thing I started packing before we came here earlier,” he mused. For him to pack early? A miracle.

Hongjoong bobbed his head in understanding. “Yeah, I get that, but that's not really—you know you can be honest with me, right? I know this has all been… a lot.” And Hongjoong would understand; he had been in the public eye for so long now, and all of that could be so incredibly draining. From catering to fans and journalists and sponsors, it could be difficult finding himself amongst all that mess.

Plus, Yunho had the added bit of being away from home for a very long time. From what Hongjoong understood, Yunho only used to tour relatively close to home, and when it was farther, it was during his school breaks. He also knew that you were an integral part of Yunho's sanity, and that even before he reached this level of fame, you were his rock, his anchor, his ground control.

Being away from you for so long was beginning to show. When Hongjoong brought it up offhandedly to Mingi, Mingi was swift to agree.

“I—” Yunho began as he slipped into the passenger seat and Hongjoong into the back of the car. He murmured a soft greeting to the driver before strapping himself in with a seatbelt. “—it definitely has been hard,” he admitted with a sigh. “I don't know, Joong. You know that rush you get while onstage, but it just comes crashing down a couple hours later? Like the adrenaline leaves you all at once and all you crave for is home?”

Hongjoong pursed his lips, watching Yunho lean the side of his head against the window as he watched the world pass by. “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly. “The moments between all the rush and excitement, you're no longer distracted from how much it all is.”

A nod. “Yeah.”

“You miss her?” It was less of a question and more so a statement. Hongjoong's hunches were never incorrect. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Yunho's quiet was answer enough.

Hongjoong played around with the back of his phone case. He knew you had listened to the song—he’d asked Yunho and you'd texted Hongjoong, too. Yunho reported that you gushed about the song and affirmed him in all his choices and lyricism as always, but he was certain that you didn't get it. But when you had run to Hongjoong questioning your own feelings and if Yunho had been scared to tell you if he was in love with someone, Hongjoong could confidently say that you did get it, just not one hundred percent.

There was still miscommunication in the message, but he knew that was only something that the two of you could sort out.

“Have you guys talked since last week?”

“Yeah, we have. She's been…” He pushed a breath out of his mouth, “... She's been working her ass off trying to make up for the amount of time she was sick. I don't even know how she isn't getting sick again. I mean—all the shit she has to weather through—I wish I could help.”

And he couldn't, not like how he wanted to, not from so far away. Maybe that was what was eating him up inside the most, besides the fact he believed his feelings to be unrequited.

The car pulled up to the back entrance of the hotel Yunho and his team were staying at for the time being. The two of them thanked the driver on their way out, and they were swiftly greeted by employees coming out of the back for their breaks.

When they reached the warmth of their hotel floor's hallway, Yunho said to Hongjoong, “I miss her so much.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his Youth World Tour hoodie, eyes lined in silver. “I worry about her so much, too. I'm sure she worries just as much about me and I know that she's more than capable about taking care of herself—’cause god, she was the one who kept me afloat all these years, and I—”

I love her.

He slapped his key card against the reader and shoved into his hotel room with Hongjoong trailing after with a sympathetic frown on his face.

“It just feels wrong sometimes when I can't be with her. Is that crazy?”

Hongjoong settled a warm hand on Yunho's shoulder as the latter sat down on the edge of his bed. “It's not crazy,” he said. He'd felt like that about a person, once upon a time. After everything Hongjoong had gone through with his last relationship, one might think he didn't believe in love, but he was still clawing for it. He wanted something that he could see manifesting between you and Yunho. He wanted to help you reach that.

He sighed and sat down next to him. “It's completely valid to feel this way, y'know? She's been a huge part of your life and your passions, and for you to see all this without her seems incomplete.”

Yunho nodded. “Yeah.”

“You can go home whenever you want, you realize that?” Hongjoong asked. “We have time built into each week to give you rest days, man. We can make that work.” It might be a little tiring for so much travel, but one trip back wouldn't hurt, especially when it could help his mental state more than simply powering through.

“I know,” he replied. “I don't… I just feel like I want her to see that I can do this, that she didn't put her trust and energy into someone who would fall so fast—”

“Do you seriously believe she would think about you that way?”

Yunho's expression shuddered, and he let out a shaky breath as he shook his head.

Hongjoong arched his brow. “Exactly. She would never fault you for needing a break. Being human is not a sign of weakness, Yunho. She's your best friend—I think she has more forgiveness and compassion for you than that.”

Yunho swallowed. Of course what Hongjoong said was right. You wouldn't look at him any different if he needed a break; it was just a thing about being kinder to himself. But sometimes it was hard to put that into perspective, and perhaps he just needed someone to do that for him.

With no good choice made without a decent night of sleep, Hongjoong bid Yunho goodnight.

As soon as Hongjoong slipped out of his friend's room, he sighed and mentally calculated what time it would be where you were. You should have been awake.

And awake, you definitely were.

You would be lying if you said you hadn't been listening to the song your space on repeat for the past week and a half. Even as you sat in one of the campus dining halls doing work and eating your crappy sandwich for lunch, your headphones were spilling with your best friend's gorgeous croons.

You questioned everything at the same time. You'd figured out two days after you first heard it that you were in love with your best friend.

The lyrics had resonated with you, and you had come to the startling conclusion that you felt the song's meaning toward Yunho.

All you could do since was freak the fuck out and tell Yunho that the song was incredible. You didn't know who the song was for or about, but you knew it was important to him because of how scared he was to release it. Had he been scared to tell you he was in love with someone? Why?

Sometimes you found yourself tearing apart the lyrics like a rabid trash panda.

I couldn't ever leave you behind They couldn't ever take me away Baby, if I could pick a heaven on Earth It would be anywhere in your space.

You broke away from your work and sandwich to the sound of a text notification. Suddenly remembering how loud your vibration ringer was, you silenced it, then opened up Hongjoong's message: I know you're probably moping and eating a shitty sandwich—what. You glanced down at said shitty sandwich that sat in its equally sad plastic container. How did he know…? —and he's not doing well either. He's miserable, dude.

Everything slowed for you, and it was no longer about your so-called epiphany. You felt your entire body and mood drop at the news. You'd seen social media posts commenting on Yunho's stage presence and brightness never fading, but there were always the one or two who noted something along the lines of him seeming too tired or that perhaps he didn't have enough stamina for this.

The latter comments made your blood pressure spike, but there was, unfortunately, some truth to it. You just didn't think it was this bad.

You pressed the backs of your knuckles against your eyes. You hadn't been doing the best, clearly, and you knew that it was largely because you missed him. Being away from someone you considered home for so long meant that you were bound to get homesick.

You didn't know what to do. There was so much work to be done, and you had just caught up. On top of that, you were short a few hundred dollars from the last time you tried to fly out.

Another message buzzed in from Hongjoong: I think you guys really need to talk.

The organ in your chest rattled around in its cage; it longed to be with its partner. You were starting to understand that now.

The song playing in your ear was slowly petering out, and all you could hear was his voice.

And I've kinda been wanting to ask if we can Skip the 'why’ and get to the 'our’ Because baby, I love your space But I love ours more.

Yunho had not flown home that week. Some emergencies had sprung up as soon as they landed in their new city, and all bets were off to be able to go home. All that he could do was buckle down and get comfortable. Even so, he knew how to make the best out of a situation.

As he stood at the very center of the main stage, he held a hand up to shield his eyes from the bright spotlights shining down on him now.

“Is that better?” Hongjoong's voice echoed throughout the near-empty stadium.

From one of the balconies, Jongho cupped his hands up around his mouth to scream at the top of his lungs, “LOOKS GOOD, HYUNG!”

“Jongho,” Yunho chuckled into his microphone, “did someone not get you a headset, bro?”

A beat passed, and then, “NO.”

Mildly amused laughter cropped up around the stadium in reaction to the youngest's troubles. It was little moments like these where Yunho could forget for one second just how tiring all of this amounted to become. His smile was genuine, and his tongue darted out to trace his teeth—

“Jeong Yunho, put your damn tongue away.”

Yunho's eyes went as wide as saucers, his expression morphing into something like childlike surprise as he immediately retracted his tongue into his mouth. But in the split second it took his brain to process the words that had been said, he also recognized the voice who'd said them. From the big screen, any one of the staff members or you could see the way his face stretched into the widest grin possible, his eyes lighting up like spotlights.

He lifted the mic in his hand up to his lips as he tilted his eyes up to the sound and lighting box far up in the stands. From where he was onstage, he could just make out the shape of you in the box next to Hongjoong—the sneaky bastard. “Ln Yn, get your ass down here right now,” he said, hardly able to contain the excitement in his voice.

You didn't need to be told twice.

You raced down the stadium steps from the box, your legs carrying you as fast as humanly possible without falling. Yunho leapt off the stage and left his microphone behind to meet you in the middle.

Somewhere between the pit and mezzanine, you flew into his arms and he caught you, spinning you around. The glee on both of your faces was enough to make everyone stop and appreciate the tangible love before them. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you pursed your lips to subdue them. You squeezed him as tight as you possibly could; his arms held you firmly around your waist, head tucked into the joint between your neck and shoulder.

“You're here,” he croaked with tears in his voice now. You heard him sniffle, and only held him tighter. He felt the added strength and let out a sob. “I missed you so much.”

Oh, for fuck's sake—you started bawling like a baby. “I—” you sucked in a breath, “—I heard—so I booked a flight—”

This only caused his body to tremble harder. “Oh god… Yn… I…”

You sniffled and brushed your hand over the back of his head in an attempt to get both of you to calm down. “Hey, don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't matter; you know I'd drop everything for you.” When his only response was to press his wet eyes against the heat of your neck, you blinked away your tears. “Plus, I missed you, too, rockstar.”

Yunho let out a watery laugh, gently setting you down onto solid ground. You both looked like a hot mess and a half: snot dripping out of your noses, eyes red and drowned in salty tears. The adrenaline rush from the surprise had trickled out of your system, but your heartbeat continued to rattle around in your chest with reckless abandon. His messy, damp hair; the wobbly shine in his dark brown irises; the way he smiled at you with that something on his face… he was everything to you.

“Glad to know the feeling's mutual,” he said, nudging you with his elbow, then pawing at his eyes to wipe the tears away.

“Good to see you, Yn!” San piped up from the stage with his microphone. He had picked up Yunho's microphone from where he'd abandoned it to come meet you.

You laughed, lifting a hand up in a wave. “Hey, San! Hi everyone!”

Chimes of greetings from all the other boys and staff members cropped up from all around the arena.

Yunho brushed a hand through his hair and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Did all you fuckers know about this?”

Mingi was perched on the ledge of the stage. His grin seemed to be the widest after watching your reunion. He tugged the microphone attached to his earpiece closer to his mouth. “Don't tell us you're not grateful now.”

“Nah, I'm just surprised Wooyoung was able to keep his mouth shut.”

Wooyoung didn't need a microphone to let you all know of his offense. You could hear his squawk of disapproval all the way from where you stood—crazy how acoustics worked.

Yunho heard your laugh from beside him, and he glanced over at you to catch the fond look on your face. He hadn't stopped smiling for the past five minutes, and it didn't matter how much his cheeks hurt. You were here; that was all that mattered.

“This place is—” you marveled as the two of you began walking down the stairs together toward the stage. The backs of your hands brushed against one another, breaths away from touching, from lacing, from being together. “—huge. It's so much more—” You felt your lip wobble again, “I don't even know why I'm getting emotional. It's all you dreamed of as a kid, wasn't it?”

The tears pricked at the edges of his eyes again, and the two of you looked back at each other with equally wet eyes and bright smiles. “Yeah,” he nodded, swiping at his eyes.

“You deserve it.”

“All thanks to you,” he said with a sniffle, hugging you to him again. You were solid and real beneath his fingertips—he was so happy you were here. This was where you belonged; none of this felt right without you.

When you finally reached the bottom of the pit, Yunho had to run back up to the stage, and you went through the aisles until you found your perfect seat. It wasn't long before Mingi bounded up the steps to come join you. He brought you in for a long awaited hug of his own.

“What's good, Yn?” He asked with a soft chuckle as he pulled away and settled in the seat to your left.

Just ahead, Yunho appeared onstage with his microphone in hand, and the two of you lifted your hands in sync to wave to your best friend.

You adjusted your bag in your lap, and clasped a hand on Mingi's shoulder. “This is surreal. Does it feel surreal?”

Mingi's lips pulled into a smile as nostalgia made his vision cloudy. “It does, every single time. I'm glad you're finally here—we’re all very happy that you're here now.”

You bumped your head against his shoulder and let it rest there for a moment, and his hand came up to gently pat your head to tell you he understood. You didn't need to say anything.

For the next hour and a half, you and Mingi got to watch Yunho and everyone else run through the last of the day's lighting checks. Periodically, someone else from Yunho's personal team would come and sit with the two of you, then leave quickly when they had something else on their to-do list.

At last, when the session wrapped up and everyone was sent to go home for an early night, you rushed down to meet with Yunho again.

He waited for you to be at his side before leading you down toward backstage. “There's a couple things I need to grab in my dressing room before we can head back to the hotel.” A thought suddenly interrupted his thoughts and his eyes widened. “Do you have accommodations? Please tell me you do.”

“Don't worry—I promise I'm not sleeping on the streets,” you teased. You'd figured all of that out pretty last minute with Hongjoong and Mingi's help.

Yunho nodded, a smile coming to his face. “Okay, good. I was gonna offer my room and I could sleep on the pullout couch.”

The thought of sleeping in the same room as him made your skin warm, and if you hadn't realized your feelings for him before, you would be confused as to why you were so flustered at the thought now. It wouldn't be the first time you had a sleepover. But this would be… different. Oh lord.

The backstage hallways were scarce and dimly lit in order to save energy, but it was enough to guide you and Yunho's way to the star dressing room. You swallowed as you reached the door—the facade plastered with a pretty, gold star with his name on it—and followed him inside.

“Hey, Yun?” You asked him as you lingered by the door and he rushed around to grab his things. The room was decently spacious, and definitely larger than all the other ones from his past tours.

“Mhm?”

“Could we… talk about something?”

He glanced back over his shoulder as he threw things into his bag. “Yeah, ‘course.”

You toed at the polished ground, fingers twisting and wringing in front of you. “It’s about the song. The, uhm, the your space one.”

His movements paused. He looked up and connected gazes with you through the vanity mirror in front of him. Yunho cleared his throat and ducked his head to zip up his bag. “What—what about it?” He asked, shouldering his bag and meeting you back at the door.

He seemed unable to look you in the eyes directly now as he closed the door behind the both of you as you stepped out into the empty hallway.

“I just,” you stammered. Blood rushed up to your face and you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “I needed to know—I didn’t need to know—it’s your life and your song, and you have every right to have feelings for someone without me knowing. And I think I’m asking this for selfish reasons, but… are you seeing someone?”

The question caught him off guard, his eyes blowing wide open. “Wh—no. No, I am not seeing anyone. Why do you ask?”

“The song—I know I shouldn’t be indulging in what people on the internet say, much less in the opinions of those who don’t even know you, but I couldn’t help but agree with them when they say the lyrics, the—the feeling of the song—you’re in love, and I—” Your breath caught in your throat as you choked on the words lodged there: And I am in love with you.

Yunho pushed an exhale out of his mouth and stepped toward you. So much shone in his eyes right then, and it didn’t matter how much light there was in this damn hallway, his eyes would always glitter like twin diamonds. “I am in love with someone. Yn, I’m in love with you,” he said. “I thought that the song would make it obvious, which is why I was so scared for you to hear it, but I realize now that this was just something I should have said outright.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest and it wasn’t from the nerves anymore. God, your knees felt like buckling from the force of the tenderness in his eyes alone. “You’re—you’re in love with me?”

“I am,” he nodded. He slowly reached for your hands and clasped them within his own. “I’ve been in love with you since that day you ran out of Science Olympiad practice to come to my audition; I’ve been in love with you from the moment you yelled at me for not being ambidextrous and I had beef jerky in my mouth—”

“I did not yell at you!”

He broke out into a cheeky, yet fond grin, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face with his hand. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine what life was like before I was in love with you—and yes, you did yell, but you can yell at me as much as you like, and I would still be head-over-heels for you.”

Your lip curled in on itself at all of his words, at everything he was revealing to you now. You wished you had known—oh, god, you wish you had known. You didn’t know if things would have been different, but for some reason, you had a feeling that all paths might have led here nonetheless.

You squeezed his hand between your own now. “You’re everything to me, Jeong Yunho,” you rasped out, unable to put strength behind your voice for fear of all of the emotion about to spill out. “And I’m so stupid for taking so long to figure it all out, but I’m in love with you, too, and I’d be damned if I let another day pass without you knowing that.”

Something washed over him in that moment, and he laughed, leaning over to cup the back of your neck and rest his forehead against your own. It was ridiculous, the fact that both of you were giggling and smiling at such a precipice of emotion, but it felt right.

You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips as he murmured, “Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad.”

“Then come kiss me, rockstar,” you said, looping your arms around his neck. You drew him down to your mouth and felt his body mold against your own. Every crevice and curve slotted so perfectly with one another, and the heavy longing in your chest slowly eased.

“You guys have been incredible for me tonight—” Yunho beamed as he walked toward the front, center stage and looped the electric guitar strap over his head to the sound of the roaring crowd, “—so I've got a little surprise for you.”

One of the staff members had set out a mic stand and bottle water for him, and he approached both items to fit the microphone into place. Tonight was the Friday night concert being held in this city, and the energy was dialed to one thousand in all the best ways.

He held onto the microphone with one hand. “This song is dedicated to—written for—my best friend in the world, the love of my life, my stargirl. I'm sure you know it—you crazies debuted it at number two on the charts—this is your space.”

His smile tugged up wider at the reaction he received. If anyone in the crowd didn't know the song, they were about to fall in love.

Yunho laughed, shaking his head, as he began checking to make sure his guitar was tuned with practiced, nimble fingers. “Oh, by the way—” he pointed up at the accessory he wore, the crocheted headband holding his hair up and out of his face, with a row of stars across its band, “—she made this for me. Isn't it cute?”

The stadium echoed in choruses of “aw” and cheers.

He could only duck his head with a smile, eyes twinkling with fondness and tenderness at the thought of you. You were in the crowd, but you could be up here with him in spirit. “Yeah, that was me, too.”

After you and Yunho left the stadium yesterday, hands intertwined and a new page in your relationship turned, you’d gone back to his hotel to share a restful evening in one another’s presences. You revealed later that night that you spent the four or five days you were bedridden practicing your crocheting skills until you were able to make him a headband. A row of three stars studded the length of it—stars for your rockstar.

Yunho struck his fingers down the strings of his guitar with a gentle rocking motion from his opposite hand to let the sound reverberate around the stadium. The crowd cried in love as his soulful, beautiful voice filled their ears with love of his own. And as his fans filed out of the stadium for the night and headed home, Yunho could finally return to his home. Because you were here now… no matter how far, no matter the distance, the two of you would always find a way to be in the other's space.

a/n: pls remember to reblog, comment, and send asks if you enjoyed!

atz m.list

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 6 days

Note

On the language debate, I personally headcanon that the main language spoken at NRC is a common one. (?) (Like how English is the business language, or like how generally Native Americans had a common language that they spoke when trading with other tribes.) And Crowley or the Mirror used magic so that You was temporary fluent in that language.

After the ceremony, Yuu has to learn the common language and picks it up really fast (as one would in such a situation). Therefore, Yuu can still speak it when away from NRC.

(I also headcanon English as an ancient language akin to Latin, because I heard that Arabic was canonically an ancient language.)

[Referencing this post!]

I’d buy that everyone at NRC speaks the common language to some level of proficiency; it’s like how international students typically need to speak the language of whichever country they hope to study in and need to prove their fluency in an exam beforehand. As I said in the original post, the light novel does mention a translation spell over the school, so maybe that’s part of the “magic” that helps Yuu to understand what the others are saying.

Now, it’s theoretically possible for Yuu to learn the common language of Twisted Wonderland in a year, but I don’t think immersion alone would cut it (especially since the main story is only up to like 2/4 to 3/4 of a year so far) . They’d probably have to put in significant effort outside of everyday conversations to pick up its rules (because remember that language isn’t just vocabulary but also grammar, syntax, and social conventions). Yuu would also need consistent feedback from people since that’s how one usually “fixes” their incorrect language use. It’s similar to how adults would correct a child learning their first language; ie a kid says “wadur” instead of “water”.)

One site I looked at suggested that, depending on the language categorization (I, II, III, of IV), it can take 24-92 weeks’ worth of time to become an “advanced” speaker. Realistically, just getting to the basic conversational level could be hundreds or thousands (700-2500+) of hours on its own—and Yuu has to do this on their own time between homework, going to classes, and managing all the issues that Crowley doesn’t 💀 To me, that doesn’t sound like a lot of free time. Counterpoint to my own point though, we also have to consider that Yuu is... well, technically Yuu can be any age you want, but most Yuus are implied or portrayed to be 16-18. The critical window for language acquisition is theorized to be anywhere from the first three years of life up to as late as 17-18 years. After this critical window, the ability for language development tapers off. So, thinking about that, Yuu's brain could still be very pliable and able to absorb new language (though they'd have to work quite intensely to pack in as much as they can before this ability starts to decline).

Something that I feel would be difficult for Yuu is that the characters often use slang (Cater, Floyd, Idia, etc.) and/or uncommon words (like Vil’s “pulchritude”). The former may not follow the standardized rules of a language or may be idioms (other non-literal meanings for common words), which could make it hard for a non-native speaker to understand. The latter would not be used that often, so Yuu would be forced to guesstimate what the word means. I’d imagine this would make fluency challenging, because as immersed as Yuu is in Twisted Wonderland, less frequently used words are harder to grasp.

Maybe Crowley cast a translation spell ON Yuu so that they can still converse with people in the common tongue whenever they leave NRC? Or, since the events basically occur in an AU, more than a year has passed so it has allowed Yuu more time to absorb the language. Language in TWST and how it works… It’s really interesting to think about!

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Yuu #Dire Crowley #twst light novel #twisted wonderland light novel #notes from the writing raven #twst theory #twst theories #twisted wonderland theory #twisted wonderland theories

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penfz · 7 months

Text

The Beginning

SukunaXFemReader (Modern AU)

Summary: Reader is in search for a babysitter for her daughter, Yuuji is in search of a part time job, and Sukuna is receiving an uncalled for nickname.

A/N: I apologize that there’s no clear timeline or order in the story, but I think I like it this way.

Also... apologies for any errors. I didn't proofread.

Sukuna X FemReader Master List

“Arghhh!”

This was probably the 5th baby sitter applicant Y/N had gone through. It was ok that you’re picky right? This is a stranger you would be entrusting your daughter too, and a stranger in your home.

Money technically wasn’t the problem, it was the lack of experience the applicants have. While yes, you would prefer a younger applicant, someone your daughter could get along with better, it was probably a better idea to hire someone older with more experience.

But then an applicant’s name caught your eye.

Yuuji Itadori had an honest application email, a highschool student looking for a part time job with minimum pay. He has no experience in looking after children, but he is good with kids. And, he’s your neighbour… technically his house was right behind yours.

Yeah, why not.

Within, the next hour, there was a knock on your door, and a young male with fluffy pink hair and a huge smile on his face, stood before you.

“Hi, I’m Yuuji Itadori.” He said as he reached his hand out for a handshake.

You smiled at his kind gesture, and shook his hand.

“Hi, I’m Y/N L/N. Please come in.” “You’re new to the neighborhood right?” Yuuji continued his friendly conversation, following you inside. “Yeah, almost 8 months ago.” You explained. “I never got to meet everyone in the neighborhood yet unfortunately, things have been busy since.” “That’s ok, my grandpa said he introduced himself to you before.” Yuuji grinned. “Oh! Yes, Mr. Wasuke Itadori! Such a kind man, how is he?” “Oh, he passed away a few months ago.” And then Yuuji’s smile faltered for a moment. “But he wouldn’t us to be sad.”

You paused for a moment, Yuuji’s words making you grieve for the kind older man. But Yuuji’s smile and reassurance, only made you smile back in return.

“Oh, your grandpa mentioned that you have an older brother. Is it just the 2 of you now?” You asked. “Yeah, he’s probably out right now at the gym. He’ll be home later. Did you want to meet him?” Yuuji asked curiously. “One day.” You laughed a bit. “Your grandpa mentioned he’s mean looking.” You joked. “Oh yeah he kind of is.” Yuuji thought about it, his playfulness in his tone still there. “I would say run if you ever see a mean looking guy in the neighborhood.” “This is good advice.” You laughed.

Yuuji’s interview started as a friendly conversation, to the introduction to your daughter, to your daughter asking him to stay for dinner, and then to the end of your search for a babysitter.

“So, are you still up to babysit Aika?” You asked as you and Aika dropped Yuuji off at his house. “Wait, really?!” Yuuji asked excitedly. “Yeah.” You smiled back. “You guys seem to get along really well, and you seem more then capable enough of taking care of her. Send me your schedule and we can start planning a working schedule.” “Alright!” Yuuji cheered out loud. “You hear that Aika, we can chill again soon! We can go to an arcade!” “And get icecream!” Aika cheered back. “And watch movies!” “And get popcorn!” “And play video games!” “And eat pizza!”

You smiled at the interaction between your daughter and Yuuji, but then began to wonder if she was hungry with the way she was listing food. And you just fed her too.

Yuuji entered the house as you and Aika started heading home.

“You’re home late, brat. Why didn’t you tell me what time you’re coming home?” “Oh, Suku-nii!” Yuuji smiled at his older brother. “Sorry, I had an interview for a baby sitting job and I got distracted.” “Baby sitting job?” Sukuna questioned, Yuuji doesn’t even have an experience baby sitting since he’s the youngest in the house. “How did that go?” “Great! I got the job!” Yuuji continued with his large grin.

Well Sukuna didn’t expect that bit of news.

“Oh? Congratulations kid.” Sukuna gave a small smile back, he was proud. “Who you babysitting?” “Her names Aika, she’s the neighbour behind us.” Yuuji explained as he pulled out his phone. “I just need to send her mom my school schedule, she doesn’t want baby sitting to interfere with school or homework.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow at that fact. He was thankful for that information, for he wanted Yuuji to concentrate on school and homework as well.

“Ok, well send me your work schedule when you get it so I know where you are. And give me your employers number, in case I can’t reach you.” Sukuna instructed as he started heading upstairs. “Okay!” Yuuji answered.

And this was the last thing Sukuna expected. Coming home from… a date? A fling? He wasn’t sure what to call it. He only stopped by a high end bar to grab a quick drink, after his new boss had went in on him about missed deadlines. It was there, that a young woman was flirting with him, which made his evening a little better. But, he didn’t expect to be coming home to two brats.

“Yuuji.” Sukuna addressed, as he noticed an extra pair of shoes at the door. Although a small child size. “I’m in the living room!” Yuuji yelled back. Sukuna signed with annoyance, brat wasn’t going to let him know he had a guest over?

Sukuna walked in, not expecting Yuuji to be doing his homework already. And definitely not expecting a young white haired female, to be asking Yuuji on her math homework.

“Yuuji! 5+3?” The young female asked. “I can’t give you the answers Aika.” Yuuji laughed as he furthered explained using the fruit he stole from the kitchen to aid her in her addition homework.

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, he was impressed with the interaction between the two. In fact, the way Yuuji was teaching Aika addition, was the same way he taught him when he was younger.

“Oh, Suku- nii!” Yuuji called out with a large smile. “This is Aika, she’s the one I’m babysitting. Aika, this is my big brother.”

“Hi, nice to meet you Suki!” Aika called with a giant smile, one to rival Yuuji’s. Except no one else was smiling… as the Itadori brothers tried to figure out who the f*uk this child was calling ‘Suki’.

“Suki…?” Yuuji asked confused. “Suki.” Aika repeated as she pointed at Sukuna. Poor guy just met her and he’s already received a female name as a nickname.

And Yuuji was no help, he was already laughing.

Sukuna could only sigh. Wtf.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #yuji x reader #soft sukuna #jjk au #jujutsu kaisen au #sukuna x femreader

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l-starlight-l · 30 days

Text

The love of a hero

Missed Confessions

Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

A/n: Just a quick chapter with Red hood I whipped up

Description: Red hood is worried about how much you’ve been working lately and pays you a visit

Pairing: Red Hood x Reader

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:Reference:

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Dead tired. You were dead tired. Being short staffed was understandable at first, manageable but now it’s just getting annoying. Your past five shifts, they’ve made you stay overtime and it was horrible. Your patients, even being horrible people, didn’t deserve to get a lesser service just because the hospital they are at doesn’t know how to manage staff. So in all honesty you were both very angry and very tired.

You stormed down the hallway on your way to your office with a stack of paperwork. Very kindly you offered to finish one of the nurses paperwork because her mother had gotten mugged. You practically threw the papers on your desk and plopped down in your desk chair, ready to get to work.

After about and hour or two there was a knock on the door. You huffed and spoke a loud come in, expecting a coworker to walk in giving you even more work. Luckily for you it was the charming red hood. You lifted your head and a soft smile formed on your lips, “what are you doing here” you said with a sudden perk in your voice.

He lifted his helmet off, revealing his concerned eyes under his domino mask. “Damn, you look tired” he said oddly serious.

Annoyed you rolled your eyes, “yes, thank you for the compliment” you bit back, “what are you doing here, red” you readied.

He shrugged, “I came by when you were on break” he explained, “you weren’t at our spot”. He plopped down on one of the comfortable chairs across from you, on the other side of the desk.

~Our spot~ for some reason his choice of words made you blush. You were to tired to feeling anything to aggressive though. “Oh, Im so sorry” you said guilt mixing with the massive headache you had, “I had to work through my break”. You looked up at him with a forced smile even though you truly did feel bad.

“What” he said sitting up in his seat looking quite mad, “how long have you been working straight?”.

Embarrassment creeped up your spine, “a long time” you hesitated trying to explain, “we’re understaffed, I’ve had to fill in”.

He shook his head and let out a sigh full of frustration for you. Softening his mood he suggested “Why don’t you just take a short smoke break then?”, holding a cigarette in his hands.

You narrowed your eyes at the cigarette and then looked at the pile on your desk, only a third of the work left. Hesitantly you nodded, “sure”. Getting up you pushed open the big window in her office and waved him over, “technically there’s no smoking in the building, but what are they gonna do fire me?” You let out a weak laugh at that idea. They would never dream of it, you could probably kill someone and they would cover it up just to keep you on the very small staff.

You admired his beautiful features as he placed the cigarette in his mouth, lit it and inhaled. He then passed it to you and you inhaled the same. “Thank you” you said softly looking off to the distant.

His eyebrows knitted, “what for?” He asked confused.

“For coming to check on me” a weird feeling laid in your stomach. The past few weeks had been confusing for you. You had started to develop feelings for Jason, your neighbor, but you felt similarly towards the man standing next to you. The situation has been stressing you out lately and you didn’t know what to do. You crawled up on the large window ceil, sitting and hugging your knees to your chest after passing Jason the cigarette back.

He watched you with sad eyes, “I’m just worried about you” he admitted, “you’ve been working to hard lately and I..” he hesitated closing his eyes, “and I’m starting to really like you” he admitted. He had wanted to tell you for so long but didn’t want to lose you as a friend and he figured doing it under the mask was the best option so, if it needed bad he still had you as Jason. When you hadn’t responded he looked over at you and let out a affectionate laugh.

A small snore came from your mouth as you slept up against the wall. He smiled as he admired everything about you. Smoothly he put one hand under your legs and the other under your upper back and lifted you. There was a small couch in your office and he set you down on that. He gently covered you with a blanket and hesitating kissed you on the forehead. He started to the the room but looked back just to make sure you were okay. He had been worried about you all day, you never leaving his mind. Which wasn’t unusual even on days he didn’t worry.

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#jason todd #red hood #batfam #dc comics #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x you #red hood x gender neutral reader #jason todd x fem!reader

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yesimwriting · 2 years

Text

Final Girl (Part 2)

Final Girl Series Masterlist (currently updated parts 1 - 9 and extras)

A/N this one’s a bit of a filler but it’s needed and i’m looking forward to part 3!! a scene in part 3 inspired this entire fic :)) also i love feedback!! comments make my day and motivate me to write :)) so if you’re so inclined,, i’d love to hear your thoughts :)

also lmk if you’d like to be tagged!!

Fandom: (original) Scream

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s.

Chapter Summary: The only good thing that’s come from Casey’s murder and your injuries is that your good friends Billy and Stu are determined to help you.

also i made the reader’s birthday Halloween bc it helps the plot and i love halloween and am so jealous of fall birthdays!! So on the really good chance that your birthday isn’t on Halloween, just go with it!! Also I named the mom character bc the reader’s connection to her mom is kinda specific and relevant for plot and that felt easier lol

Warnings: maybe a tiny bit too fluffy in some parts but there’s a reason for it!! also gaslighting and the beginning of emotional manipulation (it’s billy and stu, y’all should’ve expected it lol)

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I’ve always hated hospitals. Waking up with bandages I don’t remember getting placed on me just to receive the news of Casey’s death certainly hasn’t made me grow fonder of them. If anything, each additional second I spend in this hospital cot adds to the agony in my body.

“Miss L/n, are you feeling any better?” Nurse Samantha’s voice is cautious and smooth, but not overly peppy like Nurse Molly’s.

In another life, in another situation, I might have really liked Nurse Samantha. She gave me extra Jell-O when she noticed that it was the only thing from my tray that I picked at. She was the only one willing to be honest about Casey’s death with me. But this isn’t another life or situation, so when I look at her, all I can think about is what it felt like to wake up here. Alone.

But that’s not her fault, so instead of attempting to get out of this damn bed again, I just nod slowly. “A little.” My voice is so hollow and hoarse that it sounds wrong in my ears.

She waits for me to clear my throat before speaking again. “Your boyfriends are here to see you, but if you’re not up for visitors--”

“Boyfriends?” My voice is slightly less gritty than it was when I first spoke. “I don’t have a boyfriend, let alone a plural amount of them.”

Nurse Samantha’s eyes widen slightly. “Oh, my apologies,” she then tilts her head slightly, leaning against the doorframe of the hospital room. “But you might want to consider breaking that news to the two boys that have been harassing our receptionist since a little after you arrived.”

My eyebrows draw together in confusion. What is she--

“You said she was awake, which meant she could take visitors, so take us--”

Yeah, even in my state, that voice cleared everything up. “Billy.”

He’s close enough to Nurse Samatha to tower over her, but when he snaps his head in my direction, all sense of anger is gone. In an instant, he’s in my room. I must be more out of it than I thought, because I’m slightly surprised when Stu comes in right behind him.

“Visiting hours are technically over, but considering what you’ve been through and the late time you were brought in, I can make a bit of an exception. If you need anything, press the call button.”

I nod again, a little more grateful for Nurse Samatha than I was before. Not only do I love the idea of not being alone here, I’m also glad she decided to let Billy and Stu in before they got irritated. I know I haven’t known them that long, but I think Billy has a bit more of a temper than he’d like to let on, and Stu takes not getting his way personally.

“Okay, thank you.”

She disappears down the hall after a quick nod of her head.

Billy has pulled forward one of the hospital room’s chairs so that he’s sitting as close to my bed as possible. He grabs my hand as soon as he’s settled. His fingers are squeezing mine so tightly it’s slightly uncomfortable. “Hi.”

His greeting is oddly hesitant, maybe even a little nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Billy this unsure before. “Hey.”

The silence that falls over us after that is serious. Much too serious for Stu to just stand on the sidelines in silence. Actually, it’s weird that Stu’s on the sidelines at all. What’s his deal? He never needs an excuse to be touchy and now that I actually need a hug, he’s choosing to keep his distance. Where was this restraint when I made eye contact with a cute boy during lunch and Stu decided that that’d be the perfect time to rest his head on my shoulder?

I tear my gaze away from Billy’s hard stare, ready to call out Stu for being so weird. But then I see his expression. His face is oddly pale and his eyes are wide and kind of blank.

“Stu, I’m fine, you can’t catch a concussion.”

Instead of taking the out and making some kind of joke, Stu’s expression falls even more. “A concussion?”

Oh. Maybe Stu’s more worried than I thought. “Relax, we don’t know anything for sure. Concussions can take up to days to form, it hasn’t been long enough.” He doesn’t seem eased. “Would you stop looking at me like that? I’m fine, Casey’s the one that--” My voice catches on itself. Nope—still can’t even say it. “Would you please just come over here and be normal? I’m tired and I-I really want to pretend that I’m not in a hospital and I can’t do that with you staring at me like I’m on death’s doorstep.”

His eyebrows draw together, but all he does is shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Stu,” Billy’s voice comes out so low and harsh I find myself gaping at him. “Y/n is asking you for one thing. For you to be normal.”

On a normal night, I’d brush off their tension with some kind of joke or laugh. It’s not the first time I’ve ever witnessed the way they disappear into each other. A slightly longer than average glance or a simple sentence is all it takes to initiate one of their silent exchanges. Whenever they get like that, I can’t help but wonder what they’re like when they’re alone.

Stu nods once, the motion oddly stiff, but then his eyes move so that he’s looking at me. And just like that, they’re back. Stu shuffles towards me. He moves like he wants to hug me but can’t figure out a tactful way to do it with all the wires connected to me. He settles for a gentle, barely there shoulder squeeze. It’s so awkward and unusually gentle I find an unexpected fondness tugging at my chest.

He lets go of me, his hand moving forward to allow the knuckle of his pointer finger to graze the edge of the cotton bandage on my forehead. “It’s okay, Stu.” When he doesn’t ease, I continue, “No stitches. Doctor said it won’t even scar.”

With that, Stu softens completely. He grabs the hand that Billy isn’t holding. “Won’t even scar, huh?”

His easiness is infectious. “Nope.”

“Good thing, too,” Billy says, “Wouldn’t want anything hurting that pretty face.”

My eyes widen slightly, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Shut up, I’m a total mess right now. I’m literally in the hospital.”

“And you still look like an angel.” If I thought that the earlier comment had me struggling to form a coherent thought, this is something else. I hate how stunned into silence I am, there’s no doubt in my mind that he’s totally reveling in my reaction. “Don’t even think a scar could make you less pretty.”

Weakly, I try to cover how sentimental I’m feeling. “I almost got murdered, you have to be nice to me.”

Billy exaggeratedly frowns. “I’m always nice to you.”

I pretend to contemplate his words. “Mm...nice-ish.”

There’s something oddly comforting about Billy’s mock gasp. It’s a display of the softer side of him that I’ve only ever caught glimpses of. “Now who’s mean?”

“Still you.”

Billy rolls his eyes at Stu’s reply. I turn, expression easing at the look on Stu’s face. “You’re on my side?”

“Always,” he hums pleasantly, thumb running along my knuckles. He’s definitely lying. Billy and Stu seem to understand each other in way that I’ve never seen between two people, but the gesture is still nice.

The realization that I’m really glad that they’re here settles into me comfortably, in a content sort of way. “I’m happy you guys are here.”

Stu tilts his head, his free hand moving to gently catch my chin between his thumb and pointer finger. I blink, eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. He’s staring, analyzing me with a focus I didn’t think he was capable of. “You’re cute when you’re high.” My lips part in protest, but before I can get any words out, Stu continues, “You probably watched your friend get gutted, they definitely gave you something strong.”

I frown, sinking further into the hospital bed without thinking about it. Noticing my reaction, Billy throws a dirty look in Stu’s direction before leaning over me in order to punch Stu’s arm. “Shut up.”

“What? She knows I didn’t mean it in any bad way.” He then turns to look back at me. “You know that, right?”

I’m not exactly in the mood to brush off Stu’s insensitivity the way I normally would, and I don’t think I have the energy to humor him--but I also can’t bring myself to alienate them. I nod once, the motion tired and vague.

Billy runs his thumb over my knuckles gingerly, brining my attention back to him. “You did say you wanted him to be normal.”

At that, I almost laugh. “Yeah, that’s on me.” A moment of silence passes, and for whatever reason, I don’t like it. “Y’know, I didn’t see anything. I-I was knocked out before it happened.” I can’t believe I’m talking about this. “I didn’t even know what happened to Casey until one of the nurses told me so that I’d cooperate with police questioning.”

“The police already questioned you?” Billy’s question comes out too fast, too urging. “We’ve been waiting to be able to see you for hours, we didn’t know if y--”

“Billy.” Some hard to name aspect of his personality takes on a darker shade, but he does stop ranting. So much for getting used to slightly more lighthearted Billy. “If it makes you feel any better, I was asleep for most of the time. One of the nurses had to borderline sedate me because I kept trying to pull out my IV and disconnect the heart monitor.”

Instead of finding humor in my admission, the corner of Billy’s mouth turns downwards.

“Why?” Stu asks Billy’s silent question before tacking on something to ease the tension, “This stuff looks important.”

My nose wrinkles. There’s no good way to describe the panic I felt when I woke up here. No way to summarize the need I felt to be anywhere but the hospital. The desire to see Casey and be told that everything was just a bad dream. “Just didn’t want to be here,” I explain weakly, “I didn’t know what was going on and I freaked.”

Stu’s eyebrows draw together. I’m too tired to hide the way I study him. It’s not that he’s never serious (though it is kind of rare), but there’s something strange beneath the way he’s looking at me. His eyes seem dark, tired and emphasized by the bruise forming near the top of his cheek.

Now it’s my turn to frown openly. Slowly, I pull my fingers from his grasp. Stu lets me move my hand towards his face with no reaction until my fingers just barely graze the line of barely formed purple.

He catches my wrist between his pointer finger and thumb, his grip just a little too tight. “You okay, angel?”

The nickname leaves my face a degree or two warmer. Stu grins in a way that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Your face is bruised--what happened?”

“You’re in the hospital and you’re worried about me?” He lets out a breath, demeanor shifting back into something easier.

I roll my eyes, glad that his strange worry is passing. “Shut up.”

His hold on my wrist loosens. Stu twists my hand in order to press a quick kiss to the inside of my wrist, right above my pulse. “Billy and I were going to watch a movie. He threw the tape at me a little too hard when I wasn’t paying attention. Between you and me, I think he did it on purpose.”

Billy sighs, throwing a mean look in Stu’s direction. “I told you I was going to give it to you right before--”

“Yeah, give not throw--”

“You were right next to the VC--”

“Guys.” My interruption isn’t particularly loud, but they both instantly shut up. On a normal night, I really doubt that would have worked. I guess being in the hospital has its perks. “I’ve dealt with enough conflict.”

After a second, Billy concedes, “You’re right.” He squeezes my hand once, eyes softening. “I can’t believe the police questioned you right after you woke up. You must have been so confused,” his thumb runs up and down my knuckles, “Probably still are. You can’t be sure about anything you picked up on.”

An uneasy feeling I can’t name settles in my chest. The police were the ones that insisted on speaking to me as soon as possible, but if I accidentally gave them anything that leads to an inaccurate lead, I’m not sure I’d be able to forgive myself. “It was a man, I know that. I know that I wasn’t confused about that.” That was something I told the officers confidently. The voice on the other line was masculine and distinct and my attacker was too large and tall to likely be a woman. “I didn’t really remember anything else.”

The memories of right before are seared into my mind perfectly. Casey and her polaroid camera, the phone, the popcorn. Or--or was it the other way around? Did I make the popcorn before or after the phone call? Did Casey come in with the movies before or after she took those pictures of me?

What were her last words?

I can’t remember them and for some reason, that makes me feel guilty. He wants to talk to you. That’s when she gave me the phone for the last time. The phone I threw at the killer’s head. Did it hit him? And then she screamed. Wait, no, she clasped her hand over her mouth. She didn’t scream until the glass broke. And then...there was a second scream much later, a much more pained, animalistic sound.

My mouth goes dry. That might have been the last sound Casey ever made. I heard it, but I was too busy trying to escape the killer to pick up on it. Which would mean she was killed while I was being attacked. Which means...

“Hey, don’t think about it too hard. Don’t think about anything too hard, you said it yourself, you hit your head.” Billy’s voice is soft yet assured. He’s right, I know he’s right, and yet I can’t snap out of it.

“I,” my throat aches, a part of me regrets sending away the nurse before she could bring me ice chips, “I think there were two of them.”

The admission is so slow and unsure I instantly feel the need to defend it. “Maybe. I-I mean, I don’t--” I squeeze my eyes shut so tightly all I can see are stars that turn my stomach. The sharp ache in my head is returning. “I didn’t remember before, but now that I’m thinking about it--Casey ran while I was being attacked and I heard her scream. And not just a scared scream, it was the kind of scream that victims in a scary movie let out right before they die. I think what happened to Casey happened while I was still awake. Which would mean there were two of them.”

The two gape at me before glancing at each other. Their silence feels like some kind of reproach that tears at my insides. Stu breaks the quiet with a laugh. A loud, free kind of laugh that’s usually only ever used after the kind of inappropriate joke that earns him some kind of scolding from Tatum.

“You’re cute,” Stu hums with the kind of fondness a parent would use towards a child that proudly declares insanely unrealistic goals. Sure you’ll be the first president in space, here, have a gold star for being so creative. “This isn’t one of those books you read or a project for newspaper. This is about a real murderer that probably got hard watching you try to fight him off of you and finished to the feeling of killing Casey.”

I flinch. A full body, knee jerk reaction that has me pulling both of my hands away from them. Blinking, I cross my arms across my chest. I’m tired and the irritated frustration and embarrassment running through me aren’t making things easier.

The look on my face is probably only making me look more childish. I’m only a grade behind them, but it’s come up before. Only in a semi-joking way after a particularly naive reaction to something. Like the time Stu made a vague sex joke that everyone rolled their eyes at but I missed. Need me to explain it, kid. Stu had said, emphasizing the nickname to further embarrass me before Tatum smacked him in the arm. If she’s a kid, then that was a total pedo move.

Billy punches Stu’s arm again. This time he’s harsher. “You’re an asshole.” Billy then looks at me, expression placid with understanding. “Do you really think there were two of them?”

“I--” Now my already rickety train of thought feels even more unsteady. “I don’t know. It was just a thought. My memory of right before has been kind of iffy.” I scratch the back of my wrist, eyes focused on where my skin meets the plastic of the IV. “But shouldn’t I say something? Just in case? The police said that if I remembered anything a little more I should call.”

“You’re the one in AP Psych--aren’t most serial killers loners?”

The urge to rip off the tape that’s holding the IV in place leaves my fingers itching to do something. I tap my nails against thin hospital sheets. “We don’t talk about that kinda stuff, but yeah, I guess.”

Billy’s gaze flits away from my hands and towards my face. “So that means it’s unlikely for there to be two of them.” That’s a fair point, or at least, a point that’s a lot fairer than Stu’s. “You can say something if you want, but they’re so desperate for leads they questioned you right away. And we both know that police officers aren’t necessarily the most driven.” He’s gently referencing my mother’s boyfriend, who’s a cop and the bane of my existence. Billy and Stu both know exactly how I feel about him. “What if it does more harm than good?”

I frown, letting his words slowly sink in. Maybe if my head felt less sore and my body less far away, I’d be reacting a little more. “Yeah,” I mumble, “I’ll wait, see if it’s something I actually remember or not.”

The corner of Billy’s mouth turns upwards. “Good, would hate to throw off your step-dad.”

My glare is violent, which only fuels his smile. “That man is not my step-father. You know that.”

“Leave her alone, Billy,” Stu mumbles. I turn my head forward, gaze shifting upwards. Stu’s eyes are softer than they’ve been all night. He reaches for me, expression falling when I pull my hand back at the last second. “Aw, baby, don’t be like that.” My hand stays near my chest. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for laughing, I’m sorry for what I said about you and your friend.” I try to glare at him through my lashes, but the look feels like more of a pout than anything. “Don’t give me that look.” He moves his hand again, placing it on my cheek before I can protest. “C’mon, hurting your feelings is like kicking a puppy.”

Some instinct forces me to ease into the contact. Even though my shift is small, Stu picks up on it, because of course he does. My reaction unfortunately encourages him. His thumb gently brushes up and down my cheek. “Then don’t be mean.”

It’s a sad attempt at holding onto my anger, and I’m sure all three people in the room know it. “Promise,” Stu nods, “Anything you want.” I thought he was laying it on thick as some kind of joke, but when I look into his eyes, I don’t see anything that indicates his usual brand of teasing humor. “I’ll even watch one of those lame chick flicks you’re always talking about with the girls.”

A small, awkward noise that’s a hybrid of a scoff and a laugh escapes me. “Clueless may be my guilty pleasure, but it is not lame.”

Stu kind of smiles, but he’s still stiff. “Still. I’ll watch it, whatever you want.” His touch loses all sense of hesitance. “You know I’d-I’d never hurt you. Not really hurt you.”

“Stu.” Billy’s voice comes out a little too heavy, but I can’t look away from Stu.

“I’d never do anything to really hurt you, angel, you know that, right?” There’s something urging about the way he’s speaking. He’s waiting for an answer.

I think of Stu, who I’ve only known for a little while but also forever somehow in a weird way. Stu, who’s always throwing an arm around my shoulders. Stu, who seems to know when I’m getting nervous before I do. Stu, who is always willing to hold my hand or say the wrong thing when I need a laugh. Stu, who’s always touching me but I’ve never thought twice about it until right now because he’s like that with everyone.

Still, though, there’s usually something a little strange about the way his touch feels. More often than not, there’s a tension I don’t understand beneath his fingertips. Like he’s almost always trying to restrain the urge to hold on harder, to squeeze tighter, to keep pushing.

I don’t know what that’s about, but I know that he always stops. That he’s never caused me any real pain. For all I know, he’s just so energetic that he has to constantly remind himself of his own strength. “Yeah, I know, Stu.”

My words are too honest. Something in Stu relaxes and that’s when I realize he wants me to be sure enough for the both of us. It’s an incredibly unfair--and weird--thing to ask for.

Something flickers across Stu’s expression, but it’s quickly replaced by a grin. A genuine one. He leans down, pressing a shocking kiss to my forehead. My gaping doesn’t take away from his enthusiasm. “Does this mean I’m going to actually have to watch that movie?”

“Oh, one hundred percent. No chance of getting out of it. Billy too.”

Billy’s eyebrows draw together. “I didn’t make you any promises.”

I feign a hurt look as best I can, turning my head to better face Billy. “I, your friend, was almost murdered and you can’t put aside your surprisingly good, but let’s admit it, pretentious taste for one movie?” He gives me a hard look, but it lacks any bite. “You know, if the killer comes back for me, you’re going to feel so guilty about saying no.” Billy must feel a little bad for me in some sense because at least he’s letting me continue this rant. “It’ll haunt you--I’ll haunt you.”

He tilts his head downwards, the front strands of his hair falling forward. It’s an attempt to distract from the fact that he almost smiled. “Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

I roll my eyes dramatically. “That was like the least important part of my argument.”

“It was the main part of your argument.” Billy ignores my extremely pointed sigh. “Fine, compromise: a movie I pick, and then after, we can play your movie.”

Biting my tongue, I fight down a grin and force myself to narrow my eyes. “Nothing too gore-y or stab-y.”

“Deal.” He sighs the word like he can’t believe what he’s been conned in to.

The feeling of having enough influence over these two to get them to agree to something like this leaves me beaming. They’re likely going to complain the whole time, but still, it’s the thought that counts. “No take backs, even when I’m out of the hospital.” A subconscious part of my mind begs me to yank out the IV and try to get out of here. “Which should be as soon as my mom gets here.”

My mom and Wells were on a date--a show and a fancy dinner somewhere two towns over. The nurses and police assured me that my mom had been contacted, and that she was doing all she could to get here as soon as possible. But with traffic and the amount of time it took for them to get ahold of her, I’m not surprised that Billy and Stu beat her here. Actually, no, it is a little surprising. We didn’t have plans together that I missed and I’m not sure they’ve ever called me unexpectedly. Who told them I was here?

“How’d you guys know I was here?” The question is just as unexpected to me as it is to them.

“Stu was over when your mom called me,” Billy says, ignoring the way I raise my eyebrows, “She said she still had my number from the time you called me from her phone when we were working on that history project, remember?” I nod, still in disbelief.

Billy has been in my house twice. Both times were to work on the same project. My mom spent both of those times watching him like he was a danger to my entire future. I think in her head she was being subtle, but I can’t blame Billy for noticing.

I give him a semi apologetic look. “You’re making it sound like my mom hates you.” He gives me a look that silently asks if I’m kidding. “She doesn’t hate you.”

“Really?”

“She doesn’t!” I sigh once, my face already feeling warm as I struggle to figure out how to best word my thoughts. “She doesn’t hate you, she just--” Ugh, there’s no non awkward way to say this. "On Halloween, I’m going to be 17. That’s the same age she was when she had me. She just worries and she’s going to keep worrying and giving any guy I’m friends with a hard time until I’m in college.”

Billy pauses, letting the implications of my explanation sink in. With no warning, he pulls the sheets down just enough to expose a bit of my thigh. “So she’s worried that I’m gonna knock you up,” he teases, punctuating the comment by quickly pinching the newly exposed skin.

My face has never been this hot in my life. I laugh, the sound somehow both lighthearted and nervous. “Shut. Up.”

Another rough yet brief pinch to exposed skin leaves me almost jumping out of my skin. I look up at Stu, glaring as he barely attempts to fight down a laugh. “Stu!”

“What? I could knock you up just as easily.”

I let out a sound that’s basically a snort. "That’s such a weird thing to want to be included in.”

Stu half shrugs, placing a hand back on my thigh. Instead of pinching me again or doing something brief, he comfortably moves his hand up and down the expanse of visible skin. “The process would be fun.”

He’s joking, He’s joking. This is Stu--he’s definitely joking. Snap out of it, don’t be weird. I blink, coming to some sort sense. Pulling my legs forward, in an attempt to brush him off, I force myself to meet his gaze. “Fun for you maybe.”

“I’d rock your world, babe.” I’m ready to roll my eyes, but before I can Stu moves his hand, pressing it firmly into my upper thigh. He slides his hand forward, his fingertips digging into the start of my inner thigh. I struggle against the instinctual need to press my thighs together. “You’d be begging to go again before we even finished.”

In all fairness, I should have known better than to challenge one of those kinds of joke coming from Stu. He doesn’t know when to stop and doesn’t feel satisfied until I’m flustered. My brain must be as mushy as it feels, because I find myself digging my heels into the sand. “Pretty sure you’re all talk.”

He tilts his head downwards, eyes darkening. “I’ll prove you wrong right now.” His fingers press even deeper into my skin. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found small, fingerlike bruises on my thigh tomorrow.

“Mhm,” I manage after a long second, “There’s a supply closet in the hallway, give me a second to disconnect from all this and I’ll meet you there.” His expression is too good for me not to laugh. “Relax, I’m messing with you.”

“Haha,” he mumbles dryly, but makes no attempt to move his hand. And for some reason that I’m sure is head trauma or pain killer related, I don’t do anything to get him off of me. “You’re hilarious.”

I poorly suppress another laugh. Stu frowns. Oh my god. There’s no way he’s going to be a baby about this. He’s the one that found a reason to put his hand between my legs and I haven’t smacked him upside the head for it. “Don’t pout. You had to have known I was kidding the entire time.”

“Yeah, if she wanted to go to the supply closet with anyone, it’d be me.” I’m not sure if I’m more surprised by Billy’s comment or the way he says it. He’s much more evidently joking than Stu. The look he gives me after makes that clear.

But there’s still something pointed about the way he said it. Pointed in a way that’s not meant for me. It’s another thing between him and Stu. I know I should make some kind of equally teasing comment just to keep everything normal, but I can’t help but sneak a glance at Stu. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something distinct about the turn of his head. More pressure is added to my thigh. Okay--that’s starting to become uncomfortable.

“Alright,” I finally decide on, forcing a partial laugh into my voice, “We are dangerously close to either a bunch of threesome jokes or another one of those play fights over me.” I grab Stu’s hand by the wrist, moving it off my thigh before relaxing my legs. “And I do not have the energy for either.”

Stu turns his hand over in order to press our palms together. I let him link our fingers. “You brought up threesomes pretty quickly.”

My mouth falls open. “What?”

“Fantasy or--”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Stuart.”

He holds up his free hand in defense, but he doesn’t have a chance to make some kind of comment.

“Oh my god!” I’d know that panicked gasp anywhere. It’s been the same my entire life. One of my earliest memories includes that exact same shout, a bloody knee, and a tricycle that let me fall off the side walk and onto the (thankfully empty) road.

Mom! “Okay, i know--”

“Don’t you dare try to calm me down!” She reaches me in a flurry of motion that’s so her I can’t help but feel comforted. Stu steps out of the way after a second and my mom closes the distance between us, her fingers gripping the bed’s railing. “Oh my god, a concussion? You could be one of those professional football players--don’t they all have to retire early?”

She presses the back of her palm to my forehead like I might have some kind of fever. I actually wouldn’t be surprised if she demanded the doctors perform more tests on me because something about me didn’t feel right. “Mom, be serious. Since when do you know anything about football?”

Ignoring my response, she moves to cup my cheek. “I am so sorry it took me so long to get here. We were in the theatre when they first called and our cell phones were completely off. Never again.”

There’s so much emotion in her eyes I find myself feeling a lot less calm about everything. “It’s fine, how could you have known?” She’s still staring at me with so much maternal concern. Being so directly motherly is rare in our dynamic. If anything, I’ve spent just as much of my life parenting her as she has raising me. “I slept for most of the time, and when I woke up I had good company.”

At that, my mom looks at Stu, analyzing his appearance. I’m ready to squirm for him. She then shifts her gaze to Billy and I bite my tongue to resist making some kind of joke.

Her lips part and I fight the urge to interject, but then all she says is, “Thank you. I-I couldn’t think of anyone else I could call so late that knew her.”

Billy’s expression is blank, but his silence lets me know that he’s as surprised as me. “No problem,” he finally settles on, “Wouldn’t have wanted her here all alone.”

My mom nods once. She then looks over at Stu, “We haven’t met. I’m Gloria, Y/n’s mom.”

I have spent my entire life dealing with reactions to people finding out my mom is my mom. I love her to death, but I don’t always love the way guys my age react. She’s pretty, I can’t be mad about that, but she’s also young and cool and I’ve had guy friends be super weird about it in the past. And she’s wearing a date night outfit. A dress that’s just a little too short that I’m pretty sure she stole out of my closet.

And I know Stu. I know that he rarely filters through his thoughts before speaking. “I’m Stu,” he says normally, “I was over at Billy’s when you called.”

My mom nods, processing the information before turning her attention back to me. I draw my eyebrows together, giving Stu a look. “Did they run tests on you?”

“Yeah.”

Answering was pointless, she’s already turning towards the hall. My mom waves down some poor, unsuspecting nurse. “You--I’m her mother,” she points back to me, “I want-I want her chart read to me, and I want every single possible test you could run done.” The doctor blinks. “If it’s something that could have been harmed, I want it checked out, I don’t care how unlikely--”

“Ma’am,” the nurse finally says, “I can personally assure that your daughter received excellent care. I worked with her myself and her vitals have been regularly checked. I understand that this is an emotional time, but--”

“If you tell me to calm down, I will sue this entire damn hospital and then find a way to personally sue you.” She takes a breath to prepare for her upcoming war path. “So go get a doctor. Now.”

The nurse’s tired eyes widen before he scurries off. “Mom!” She turns to me, giving me a look that’s barely apologetic. “Relax a little, okay? They ran like a thousand tests on me already. They even said that if you approved, I could leave tonight.”

“No way,” she gasps the words like the thought alone offended her. An instinctual, embarrassing whine escapes me. “Sorry, kid, complain all you want but you’re overnighting it.”

Even though Billy and Stu are literally right here, I pout. “That’s so unfair! When you had complications after getting your appendix out, you signed yourself out even though everyone thought it was a bad idea.”

“Totally different situations and you know it.” I glare at her. “Look, I know I’ve made a point of not doing this too often, but I’m pulling the mom card.” She ignores my frown, “Wells is already making calls and seeing what he can do--and do not roll your eyes, he is not some ‘monster that’s trying to ruin your life’.”

“I only called him that once,” I mumble petulantly. “And you’re in my dress.” It’s a stupid thing to point out, but she’s being completely unreasonable.

“You left home this morning in my skirt.” Ugh, why does she always have to have some kind of point? “I’m going to tell Wells that we’re staying.”

Leaving no room for argument, my mom turns on her heels and leaves the room. Once it’s just the three of us again, an unfamiliar shyness rises up my chest. I know feeling awkward is such a small thing compared to everything else, but Billy and Stu are definitely thinking and analyzing that entire interaction. Their silence is starting to unease me.

“Okay guys,” I say, eyes focused on the hands in my lap, “Let it out. I know you’ve got some kinda rea—“

“Your mom is hot!” These kinds of reactions aren’t unfamiliar to me, but from Stu, it kind of bugs me more than I thought it would. I don’t know why--I mean, he’s the exact kind of person to react like that. “I totally see where you get it from, babe. Amazing genes.”

My eyes widen, “Stu, I get your sense of humor, but my mom doesn’t.” I drop my voice as I whisper, “Cool it with the nicknames as long as she’s in the same building.”

“So now you’re embarrassed of me? I’m not good enough to bring home to mom?”

I might kill him. “I’m serious--try anything and I. Will. End. You.”

“You threatening me is really getting me going.”

Rolling my eyes, I don’t even bother replying to that comment. I then turn towards Billy, who seems a little too amused by all of this. “I feel a little better about you, but same rules apply.”

Stu gives me a particularly hurt look. “Him you trust?”

“He’s met her before!”

With a sigh, I sink further into the hospital bed. They’re both being quiet. Stu made a comment about my mom, but I honestly expected more. I was mentally preparing myself for jokes about me being a mama’s girl or a little kid. Stu’s expression is something I don’t understand and Billy isn’t looking at me. He’s staring ahead, face stoic. He’s somewhere else now.

“Billy?” My voice is soft, hesitant.

He blinks, the corner of his mouth pulling downwards as his head turns. “Yeah?” His voice reveals nothing.

I didn’t think ahead enough to have a question to ask him. He doesn’t seem like the type to want anyone noting his feelings. “You okay?” I regret my awkward phrasing instantly. “You um...for a second looked kinda,” my noise wrinkles as I struggle to think of the right word that won’t offend him, “Wistful almost?”

He side eyes me and I can’t even blame him. “I look wistful?”

Billy nearly smiles at the look on my face. That alone makes my embarrassment worth it. “I said looked--past tense.”

“Mhm,” he hums, eyes a little darker than before. I don’t break his stare until the sound of footsteps entering the room becomes impossible to ignore. A nurse has entered the room, likely due to my mother’s insistence. “It looks like you’re going to be busy, Stu and I should go.”

Oh. I don’t know why that makes my heart sink the way it does. It’s logical--my mom’s here now and she’s going to force them to scan me with every single machine in this hospital. Maybe it’s because they calmed me down or maybe it’s because they’re the first familiar faces I saw, but the thought of them leaving bothers me.

Stu squeezes my shoulder, his fingers lingering as he pulls away. “Yeah, babe, you don’t need us around while they poke and prod you.”

The description of what I’m going to be doing makes me frown. They’re approaching the doorway. “Guys,” my voice surprises me. They both turn to look at me, and once again, I don’t know what I want to say. Do I want to ask them to stay? There’s no way that’s normal. My mom’s here--it wouldn’t work out anyways. “Thank you,” I mumble, “Thanks for coming and staying with me and making sure I didn’t have a complete meltdown. I appreciate it.”

Billy’s looking at me in that way that makes me want to shrink into myself. Not that there’s anything particularly wrong or uncomfortable about the way he’s staring, it just feels so sharp and analytical. “Anytime, angel.”

“Yeah, couldn’t leave you here all alone,” Stu says, “Call me when you get out, okay?”

I nod, smiling a bit. “Duh--don’t think I’m going to forget about the movie promise you made me, and you can’t back out because hospital bed promises are like way more serious than regular promises.”

Billy throws me a look I can only think to describe as ‘bitchy’ and Stu rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” Stu mumbles, “Take advantage.”

They manage to leave me grinning as they disappear out of the doorway. I don’t know what it is about them, but they always manage to make me feel...safe, I guess. I can’t remember the last time anyone made me feel like that.

#scream #scream x reader #scream 1996 #scream imagine #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #poly! ghostface x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader

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therealhousewifeofharrystyles · 10 months

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Whatcha doin’, Step-Bro?

*Part 1*🔞

Pairing: Harry Styles // Y/N (Step-Sibling EU)

**READ PREQUEL HERE**🔞

**READ PART 2 HERE**🔞

Word Count: ~ 1k words

NSFW -> 18+ Readers Only!!🔞

🔞*Warnings*🔞: adult language, FILTHY masturbation(M), voyeurism/exhibitionism, taboo step-sibling dynamic

Reblogs/shares are welcome!!! Also, request away! My inbox is open!💕📥😇

Also-also, please like, comment, and follow! I can’t know whether you want more if you don’t show me 🥺👉👈 xoxo

💕💖 ~ R

“Sup, lil sis.” Harry says deeply in your ear, startling you as you’ve been washing dishes in the sink for a while now, having been completely alone in the kitchen. You jump out of instinct. “AHHH! Harry!” You gasp. You grab a towel to dry off your hands and then turn around to face him. A stupid smirk covers his stupid, cocky face, but you can’t help the low tingling you feel trickling down your abdomen and stopping at that special place between your legs.

Your parents—his mom and your dad—have been overseas in the UK attending a wedding on the Styles side of the family, leaving you and Harry at home to take care of the house and the cats.

You and Harry technically got along just fine. You made your parents assume so, at least. But behind closed doors, Harry was a constant pest. He’s always gone out of his way to antagonize you. Whether it was sneaking up to you and spooking the living hell out of you, or making gross, perverted comments that only you could hear, he loved to piss you off. You slowly got used to it over the past couple of years, learning that no response was the best response when it comes to Harry and his big mouth. However, sometimes it could be really hard to ignore him even a little bit.

It's been especially difficult for you as the two of you have spent way too much time alone in the house since your dad and step-mom left for the airport. They’ve been gone for only 2 out of their 10-day trip, but you were nearing your limits prematurely.

The first night, he bid his evening ado’s with, “Alright…I think it’s time that me and my three pretty pussies go to bed.” If you weren’t already used to his lewd language, you’d have kicked him in the balls right after the words left his mouth. But this time, you just sat there on the couch and stretched your arms up before picking up one of your cats and heading towards your bedroom. You acted unfazed.

Alas, Harry thought he was so funny. The following morning at around 11am, he called out your name from his bedroom. You were somewhat concerned by how late he’d slept in because he typically preferred to start his days early with an obnoxiously loud work out—beginning by running up and down the stairs and doing push-ups right outside your bedroom door for 10 minutes straight. The absence of your usual, unsolicited morning alarm was pleasant at first. You woke up gently instead of abruptly and you didn’t have to dodge out of Harry’s way when making a break for the bathroom across the hall. Everything was smooth-going. But that obviously began to feel odd…something wasn’t right…maybe Harry was sick, you thought. And surely enough, as you were thinking back to whether he’d touched any of your food within the past 24 hours, his voice echoed from his room, down the hall, and all the way down the stairs to where you were standing at the kitchen island.

“Y/NNN!!!”

What the hell?! Just when you thought you were gonna have a decent day without any interruptions…ugh!

You trudged up the stairs and knocked on his door. “Uh, Harry…?” You announced from the outside of the door. He then replied soon afterwards, “…Yeah…” It sounded like a groan, like he was in pain, or something. You’re squeamish around blood, so you were extremely hesitant to come to his rescue if he’d injured himself in any way. He could be a whiny little bastard, though. So if he’d gotten hurt, he would’ve been throwing much more of a hissy fit than a little groan. Wait…What if he hit his head?! You panicked due to your mind assuming the worst.

Slowly pushing open the door, you peeked inside to check on him. What you saw was not at all the image you were expecting. Not even remotely close. There he was, spread out with his covers pushed down to his feet, his eyes shut and lips parted. One hand was resting on his chest as the other slicked itself up and down his naked length. It was all slippery and shiny. Each stroke made this filthy, wet, snapping sound. It looked as though he’d been at it for a while, as his cock looked painfully hard and his pace was agonizing. He looked to have been edging for the past 2 hours, at least. You just stood there and watched him. It was as if your legs wouldn’t allow you to leave that spot. Your eyes just devoured him in all his vulnerability—studying his rhythm, the noises he made, and the way his tattooed chest, arms, and abdomen flexed sporadically. He was beautiful. Not only was he mesmerizing to watch, but his pants and moans sent electric currents through your lower stomach. You felt sensitive. Similarly to the way the head of Harry’s gorgeous cock throbbed, so did your hidden clit.

His pace grew more desperate, more intentional, more calculated—no longer was he just lazily jerking off. He wanted to cum. Before you could even realize how much time had passed by with you just gawking at him at the doorway, his eyes blinked open and he looked right at you. He was already well-aware of your presence. He knowingly invited you to his little show. It was like he was holding it in for hours just to save it all for you. As his eyes locked onto yours, they refused to break contact. His brow furrowed with intense pleasure and he moaned out, “…Fuuuck…”

You were frozen in place. It wouldn’t even matter if you could move and get the hell out of there because you’d already witnessed it all. Well, almost. Harry’s breathing quickened and so did his sliding fist. He was close.

“…ah, shit…I’m gonna cum…I’m…I’m gonna cum, baby…”

A whimper escaped your lips and your thighs clamped together. The little noises he made merged together into one solid string of groans and profanities, his hips thrusting up to fuck his hand roughly as ropes of white cum spurted out of his cock and all over him. He kept cumming until his body shook from overstimulation, his eyes slowly flickering back and forth between you and his hand throughout the entire finale.

A giant smirk washed over his face after he’d taken his fingers and swiped up some of the warm, sticky cum that coated his glossy skin. He held his hand up as if to gesture an offering towards you and spoke, “…Wanna taste?” Your eyes widened, and you felt the skin of your cheeks heat up. You’d just been a voyeur to your step-brother’s morning masturbation session. To say you were humiliated would be an understatement. How would you ever live this one down? How could you ever live something like this down?

You had no clue what to say to him, what to do at that moment. And so you just pulled his door to a slamming close and bolted down the stairs and out the door. You got in your car and drove to the mall. Retail therapy seemed distracting enough for you to temporarily forget about what just fucking happened.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Read Part 2 Here

Oofta🥵 well, you know what to do! Let me know what you wanna read next, if you want more parts, or something completely different. Just give it to me, baby 😜😘

xo - Regan

Also—pls follow me, as well as @harrystylessmuttyfics where @victoria-styles and I are creating a deliciously smutty collection of Harry writings just for you 😘😏 xoxo

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pixiekwixie · 11 months

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The Research - 2

➺ Miguel O'Hara x Reader || Mature, 18+

➺ Summary - In which Miguel struggles to keep his hands and eyes off his lab assistant.

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➺ warnings - this chapter might be long, Stalking/perversion (Miguel's been watching you for a while now), male masturbation (jerking off), some angst?, jealousy?, making out, choking, hickeys, biting (miguel bites you with his fangs), stripping, dom miguel, name calling, degradation, oral (male), gagging, deepthroating, crying, OC is a masochist, sadism (miguels a sadist), slapping (with a dick), dirty talk, clit slapping, fingering, edging, unprotected sex, cervix fucking? idk he's big that's all, ass slapping, creampie, some fluff

➺ words - 5.3k

➺ notes: sorry for this part being so late, video games got me in a chokehold. I tried to keep the smut as general and inclusive as i could with descriptions and stuff, so i hope you guys enjoy it, im also working on other miguel stories to release in the future (pregnant reader au, barista reader au, etc) but for now lets enjoy this series first. feedback, and what you guys think is welcomed, please enjoy :)

➺ translations below:

mi reina - my queen

continua hermosa - continue beautiful

Usa tus palabras, hermosa - use your words, beautiful

preciosa - precious

cariño - dear

eres mia, solo mia - you're mine, only mine

--- 🕷 ---

"You know... I think it's kind of weird you've been stalking her for an hour now" Lyla spoke as she watched the monitor with Miguel, observing as you ate breakfast. Without a word, he changed the angle with a click to this keyboard to face you.

"I mean, technically, you stalk everyone"

Lyla looked at him but he didn't budge, he held the same stern look as he looked at you.

"Do you like her? Find her attractive? Wanna have sex with her?" Lyla smiled as she watched him huff in annoyance, knowing he was to blame for her attitude.

"Was watching her last night not enough?"

"What?" Miguel hissed at the hologram on his shoulder, she held a sly grin as she tapped her foot- knowing she had his attention now. Lyla was usually everywhere all at once, responding to whoever needed her.

Which usually meant she was listening, something that Miguel might've forgotten from the look of his reaction.

"You're spying on me?" He raised his voice as he looked down at her.

"You're spying on her, what's the difference?"

There was a pause as he looked back onto the screen where you were getting ready for work, ignoring Lyla.

As he watched you he started to feel a tight feeling in the pit of his stomach. Was it guilt? Was watching you really that wrong of him?

Today wasn't the first time he had taken to watching you go about your day. He hated to admit he had been watching you for the last week, and it all began when you wore a dress shirt that revealed some of your cleavage. It set off something inside of him like he had never seen a woman's body before, your body, and he couldn't get the image out of his mind.

Ever since, he's spent most of his nights watching you go about your day. From the way you would caress your hands across your body as you showered, to the way your breasts looked as you slept.

Last night, however, his desire became uncontrollable as he watched you pleasure yourself.

He had hissed when he saw you spread your legs out, practically giving him a front row view of your most delicate jewel. He wondered what it would be like if he just tasted you on his tongue, to lap at your folds and suck on your most delicate spots- to hear you moan and cum to his name.

He couldn't resist himself as he watched your finger yourself, the erection in his pants had become more obvious so he took it upon himself to jerk off while watching you.

The head of his cock was weeping with arousal as he rubbed a thumb over the slit of his cock, stroking at the head he imagined what your mouth would feel like- what your tongue would feel like if you licked his hardened length.

Gripping his cock with his hand he started pumping slowly, watching as your pussy gripped around your fingers. The way your body quivered and shook with pleasure, he liked the way you look- needy and desperate.

He stroked his cock faster as he began to imagine your pussy around him, the more he watched your body the more arousal leaked out of the tip- and the more the wanted to be inside of yo.

Mind black, and dazed from pleasure, he kept moaning your name repeatedly while his strokes became faster. Fangs peeking out from his mouth with every breath, he kept a gradual pace as he felt the coil in his abdomen come undone.

"Fuck- Ah-" he moaned lowly as his cum splurged onto his abdomen and onto his hand.

Stroking himself slowly and softly he whimpered sweet nothings about filling you up while he admired your body.

He had deemed you were his, even if you didn't know it.

So he spent most of night watching you pleasure yourself over, and over again. And with every watch he enjoyed it more, from your soft moans to the way your face contorted in pleasure.

He knew it was strange to be watching you but he couldn't help it, after the first time he saw you his body became unpredictable and needy for your warmth.

He knew there was a possible risk in taking modified spider venom more than once a day, but if he didn't then- well, he didn't know what would happen.

He just knew his desire for you was almost unbearable.

"You're terrible at expressing your feelings Miguel, just tell her you find her attractive" Lyla shrugged.

"It's not that easy, if I start something then who knows what would happen..." he muttered the last part, knowing that being close to you, and your scent, would be addicting if he pursued you.

"She has her own life on her earth, and I have mine, I can't disrupt the balance of the multiverse"

Lyla only rolled her eyes, "What's the worse that could happen? Just have fun dude" Lyla cocked her head before glitching off to whoever needed her.

"Fun..." he whispered as he watched you walk out the door to start your work day.

--- 🕷 ---

"SEAN!" You say excitedly as he makes his way towards you within the lunch room.

"Hey!" He says with a quick hug.

"Wow you're back so soon, how was the vacation?" You smile as you take in his mild tan, he wasn't much of an outdoor person so you can imagine he had fun.

Sean has been a friend and co-worker for as long as you could remember, and as of two weeks ago he was on vacation with his girlfriend. Someone you set him up with back in high school, so when he asked you to help him plan his proposal you couldn't help but say yes.

"Millie got sick," he sighed as ushered you to sit down at an open table with him.

"What happened?"

"She just ate way too much seafood" you share a laugh, but the moment was interrupted when gizmo-watch in your hand started to beep, it amazed you it could even do that as it would usually just light up if someone needed you.

"Are you gonna get that?" He asked, shaking your head with a laugh you fumble with it until it stopped beeping.

"I'm guessing the proposal didn't happen then?" You quirk an eyebrow up at him, trying to dismiss the embarrassment from a couple seconds ago. If anyone knew you- it was him, and you weren't ready to tell him you were part of a secret society.

"Unfortunately no, and the hotel was greedy enough that they wouldn't reimburse us for the days we didn't stay" he rolled his eyes with a smile, he seemed very happy in his relationship with Millie- sometimes it was something you envied.

The warm feeling of knowing there's someone waiting for you, or the way you could remember the things they love. You enjoyed being single, you didn't having to worry about someone else or their needs but sometimes, and only sometimes, you envied their happiness and the love they shared.

"Enough about me- how are you? Have you met someone?"

Your eyes widen as the attention was brought back to you, heat flooded through your body in embarrassment. Do you tell him about Miguel? Do you dismiss it? Would he know if you lied?

"Me? Well-" you drag out the last word as you try to come up with something to say but before you could the gizmo started to beep again, looking down at your wrist with furrowed brows you fidget with it once more.

"Uh- are you gonna get that? Sounds important" he states with a drink of his coffee, paying attention to way your body discreetly trembled- he knew you were nervous.

You giggle awkwardly, "It's not... d-don't worry" you look back up at him, his eyebrows quirked up in a questioning manner.

He was trying to decipher you, trying to pick you apart.

"What? Are you seeing someone?" His smile got bigger, you shook your hands trying deny it. Sure, you and Miguel shared a very very close moment but there was nothing more to that and he made sure you knew it.

You almost thanked the heavens as the gizmo started to beep again, it just saved from you from having to come up with a lie.

However, it was annoying.

With a grunt you get up from your chair as you point to the gizmo on your wrist before quickly apologizing and making your way to the nearest bathroom.

Locking the door behind you, Lyla pops up in front of you with an annoyed look.

"Took you long enough"

"Lyla, seriously, I'm working and you know that"

Although she was artificial you still expected Lyla to understand, well, at least understand more than Miguel.

"Listen, I wouldn't ask if I needed to but- I need your help with Miguel."

Her tone changed, gone was her usual sass and present stood a Lyla that seemed worried and serious- she almost seemed human.

"Wha- Is he okay? What happened?"

Lyla sighed, "We don't know here he is, he turned off his location and hasn't taken his injections today... "

She seemed so genuine as she avoided your gaze, what was in her programming that made her like that? Was it really Miguel who made her? Someone as expressionless as him?

Throwing those thoughts aside, you try to focus on the present question.

"Lyla, I'm working a-and I don't know if I want to help you guys look for him" you spoke but deep inside you worried and you wanted to know more, you wanted to make sure he was okay.

"Thing is..." she dragged out, pacing around with her head down.

"Lyla, what?"

"It would only be you searching for him" Lyla turns to you slowly, you almost flinch at her words.

Only you? Did she know what you guys did yesterday?

"That's dangerous for me- what if he kills me?"

You knew he wouldn't do that, he didn't have a no-kill rule like the others but the only thing that scared you was being near him.

"I saw what you guys did yesterday and-"

"Lyla that was-"

"- I don't care" she looked at you head on, no longer avoiding your gaze.

"You don't?"

"Miguel can do whatever he wants with whoever he wants, all I care about is making sure he's fine" her voice softened as she spoke, it almost broke your heart at how genuine she sounded.

"Okay, I'll do it" you gave in, you knew you would regret it later but now was not the time to think about that.

"Go home, change, and come here- quickly... please" and with that she disappeared, almost like it never happened.

Your body rushed with adrenaline as things clicked in your head. You had to get home quickly before Miguel did something irrational.

You rush out and quickly apologize to Sean as you start to sprint to the exit of the building. You made sure to let reception know you would be leaving early due to a 'family emergency'.

Questions flooded your head as you quickly made your way home, your body was full of a rush as all you could think about was Miguel. If something was terribly wrong he could kill someone, or worse, he could get hurt.

Quickly unlocking the door to your apartment, you throw your things on the couch and begin tot take your top off.

You walked forward as your eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness of your room, but you didn't care- all that was in your head was Miguel and finding him.

Your body core started to pulse with heat as you rummaged through your drawers looking for a comfortable shirt, but this wasn't a situation of heat, why was your body suddenly feeling warm?

Your answers were quickly answered as you felt a hot breath tickle the back of your neck.

Was he...?

Your eyes widen as you turn your head to find him staring down at you with glowing red eyes.

"Miguel!" you exclaim in mixture of shock and relief, watching as his brows furrowed- almost as if he was angry.

"W-What are you doing here?" you stuttered out as his face grew closer to yours, his breath fanning over your lips as one of his hands tilted your chin up to him.

"Do you feel it too?" his voice reverberated across your body, sending a jolt of heat to your core.

"I- Are you okay?" your looked at him, genuine concern in your eyes as your discarded the heat that started to blossom in your body.

Grabbing your face with both hands he pulled your face into his, until your noses were touching and you could feel each others breath against your skin.

If he was any different he would've thanked you for worrying about him, but he wasn't that guy, he didn't want to think about the warm stuff in life.

He wanted to focus on the desire he felt for you.

Slipping a hand around your throat with a tight grip, he cocked his head to the side with a small grin that revealed the tips of his fangs to you.

"Do you feel the desire too?" he whispered against your lips, one small move could lead to a kiss and he knew it, he was teasing you.

"I do," your words were almost lost from the way you whispered so softly.

"Que bueno," he whispered before placing his lips onto yours. A jolt of energy flowed through the two of you as lips molded against each other.

His lips were hot, wet and moved like he hadn't seen you in years. Almost like he was trying to eat you alive, with every movement of his lips you could feels his fangs poke you almost like a teasing bite.

Pulling off from your mouth with a pop, he stared down at you moving your head to the side to expose your neck.

"P-Please..." a moan whine escapes your lips as you noticed the way he stared at your neck.

"Please what mi reina? What you want?" he placed a small kiss on your lips as the grip on your throat tightened, making you feel hazy.

"My neck- k-kiss me... mark me- please- Aaah" you moaned as he began licking the nape of your neck, treasuring the way your breathing came out ragged. His lips began sucking at the spot, taunting you with the tips of his fangs prodding at your skin.

He continued the assault on you neck, sucking at every part of your neck and shoulders as much as he could.

"B-Bite me-" you let out, you thought he would pause for a moment but you were immediately met with a sharp pain as he dug his fangs into your shoulder blade. The pain was excruciating but it felt so good at the same time.

Pulling away slowly, he suckled and licked at the punctures. Making sure you wouldn't bleed out.

Looking up to find you zoned out in pleasure, he came up to your face waiting as you blinked your eyes open.

"I'm gonna need you to strip for me, okay?" he look directly into your eyes with a demanding tone, your vision was becoming blurry but you nodded.

Your longs ached as you took in a deep breath the moment he removed the grip around your neck. He sat down and watched attentively from the foot of your bed, awaiting the show of your body.

You began to slowly unclasp your bra watching as it fell onto the ground to expose your perky nipples.

"I didn't say stop, continua hermosa"

His words tickled at your core as he watched the bright red glow of his suit highlight and contour the shapes of your body.

You nervously slide off your pants knowing he was eager to see your cunt. Hooking your fingers onto the sides of your panties you shimmy them down very, very slowly.

A small string of slick connecting your panties to your cunt.

"Are you wet for me baby?" his voice was so deep it scared you, but it churned your tummy even more. It made you wetter that he knew you made him feel hot and bothered.

You stood in silence and watched as the hologram of his suit disappeared, long gone was the red bright glow and present was his cock standing tall weeping at the slit with arousal.

"Suck my cock, now"

You fell onto your knees in a hurried manner, admiring the way his cock stood tall. Veins running along the sides of his girth, he was bigger than you had expected.

"Hurry up, slut" he spat out as he watched you fumble with your hands to grab the base of his cock, placing a long wet lick from the base to the tip.

His body shivered as he placed hand behind your head to hold you steady.

"I didn't tell to stop bitch, go ahead" your body shivered as you began to suckle at his tip, enjoying the way he held your head tightly.

"Come on baby, open that mouth of yours, lemme fuck your dirty mouth," he whispered as he pushed your head down onto his length making you gag as he hit the back of your throat, enjoying the way you felt warm and wet.

Grabbing your head with both hands he starts thrusting into your mouth at a steady peace, ignoring the way you kept gagging against his cock, instead he enjoyed the way it sent vibrations all through out his body.

"You feel so good baby" he watched as tears rolled down your cheeks from the intensity of his throats down your throat. Your pussy would clench with his every thrust so much so that you began to feel some wetness start to drip down your legs.

"L-Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth"

He began to snap his hips into you repeatedly while you tried to adjust your jaw to his length. Saliva dripped down your chin as your throat contracted against his cock, making a mess of your face.

He enjoyed the way your body struggled to take him in, the way your eyes dripped with tears and the sweet scent of your arousal that dripped down your legs, as well as the contraction of your throat against him. He wanted to mark every part of you as much as he could, show you how much he wanted you.

Slowly he began pulling his cock out of your mouth, saliva connecting your lips with his tip. Your eyes widened slightly as the site of his erection, could he have gotten bigger? Was that possible?

"Like that? Hm, little slut?" He used a hand to slap the head of his length against your cheek, you felt so dazed and drained from having him so deep in your throat. Your pussy still quivering in desire.

"What do you want, mi reina? Tell me"

He knew you couldn't speak from the way your breathing became heavy but your body buzzed in pleasure.

Looking up at him with pleading eyes, you hoped he understood but instead he squished your face with one hand.

"You... W-Want you..." you voice came out hushed, and your throat ached with every word.

"Get on the bed then, lemme see your slutty pussy" he demanded, helping you up until you laid on your back with your legs propped up- cunt exposed to him.

Staring at his face as he moved around in front of you, you hated to admit you found him beautiful in this moment. Something about him just made you feel at ease despite how brutally he had fucked your throat.

You were brought back to reality when you felt a finger prod at your entrance, you moaned as you looked down to find him playing with your wet folds.

Enjoying the way your pussy seemed to get wetter as he stroked your fold.

"P-Please-" you bucked your hips against his hand, longing for more.

"Please what? Usa tus palabras, hermosa" he whispered against your cunt, continuing to at your entrance slowly as you moaned into his touch.

"Fuck!" you yelp as he lands a slap on your clit- the ache pleasing some of your desire.

"Hm, you liked that?" he grinned as he landed several more small slaps onto your clit, adoring the pained look on your face.

He began to slowly thrust a finger into your weeping core, your body flinching at the pleasure with every stroke of his fingers against your walls. Wetness seeped out of your core as the pads of his fingers bumped into the sensitive spots in your walls.

With another hand he slapped your clit harshly, earning a yelp from you.

"Don't act like you don't like it"

You could hear the smile on his face.

"Get on your hands and knees,"

He rubbed his hands against the supple flesh of your ass, admiring the softness of your skin. He wanted to fuck your ass the more he looked at it, but right now wasn't the time for that.

Your body jolted as he placed a thumb on your sensitive clit, rubbing it slowly as your arousal dripped onto his hand.

"Im not gonna go easy on you, preciosa"

His words made your cunt wetter at the thought, you wanted him to do whatever he wanted- to ruin you in every way possible.

Before you could speak you felt the wet tip of his cock at your entrance, rubbing himself against your slit teasingly.

"Shhh- be still, cariño" he cooed as he thrust his entire length into your warm walls, your mouth fell open at the burn of his cock stretching out your entrance.

He grunted as your walls clenched against his length rapidly as you tried to adjust to his size. He knew you were desperate to be fucked by the way your hands gripped the sheets beneath you, he could come on the spot from the way you moaned his name softly.

Your words were lost as began to thrust into your pussy roughly with both hands placed against your hips. His thrust were animalistic, fueled by pure lust and the desire to release inside of you.

"Your pussy is so tight baby-" he moaned as you clenched rapidly around him, your walls still struggling to adjust to his size. You pushed yourself back into him with every thrust, begging for him to go deeper and find the spot that itched inside of you.

"Miguel- p-please..." you pleaded for him, your breasts burning at the heat as they swinged back and forth with his every thrust.

"Say it louder baby- l-lemme hear you" he grunted as he changed his position to drill harder into you. The new position made you whine in desperation, he was giving you everything you wanted with this new position.

"Fu-Fuck me harder- please!" you throat ached as you spoke but you didn't care, all you could think about was his hot cum being inside of you, and being filled until you were dripping.

His cock hit your sweet spot but you couldn't keep your eyes open with the way he reached the deepest corners of your insides.

"Aaah! Fuck- right- there!" you squeal as tears prickled your eyes again, "Yeah? like that- fuck" he groaned as he hit your cervix with a hard thrust. The way he thrusted into you felt so good, the mix of hard and fast pleased your body just right- this was everything you had wanted.

With every passing moment you felt your climax start to buildup, the coil in your tummy dancing over the edge.

"Mi-Miguel-" you moan as you shut your eyes, embracing yourself for your climax but before you could cum he pulled away from your pussy. He hissed as he watched your pussy gape open rapidly at the denial.

"Why-" you cry out as you shake your ass for him but instead of giving into you, he smack your ass.

Smack!

"Mhmm-!" you cry out, but you didn't mean it, you just wanted to finish- you just wanted his cum inside of you.

"Or what? Hm? Gonna cry?" he taunted as he lifted you up and turned you on your back, you watched his face display a coy grin as you looked at him

He was gonna be the death of you.

His hand gripped your throat as he inched his face closer to yours, watching you blink rapidly at the pressure he held on you. Moaning softly, you stick your tongue out for him- begging him to suck.

"No" he denied, you whined but it was no use as the grip on your throat only worsened.

"You want something, you ask, okay?" he graced the tips of his fangs against your nipples, loving the way your body flinched in danger of being punctured. He took a nipple into his mouth, his tongue licking over your perky bud before sucking at it.

"B-Bite me,"

He bit your nipple but not with his fangs, almost like he was testing the waters. Using his free hand he snaked it down to rub at our clit in a slow steady motion, cock throbbing at the moans that escaped your lips.

"Stop- I-I might cum-" you whine as your legs shake against his body, but he didn't care, he tightened the hand on your throat loving the way you gasped and your hips bucked against his hand.

"P-Please-" you pleaded with tears in your eyes, fingers moving into your pussy. Rubbing at your g-spot constantly as you took the pleasure, it was overwhelming but you loved every second of it.

"F-Fuck me!" you begged as a tear trickled down your cheeks, he took advantage of your cry to sink his fangs into your breast- his cock twitching at the sound of your moans. Licking over the small holes rapidly to ease some of the pain he continued sucking at your breast.

Opening your eyes, you watch him pull out his fingers from your pussy and suck them like a lollipop. Leaning up to your face he bit your bottom lip, "Spread your legs" he whispered.

You took a deep breath as his hands left your throat, the fresh air soothing the ache in your lungs.

Grabbing both of your legs by the knees he spread them even more, watching the way your pussy reflected with your arousal.

"Pussy so warm," he muttered as he aligned his cock against your entrance, rubbing the tip against your clit slowly with a breathy moan.

He pushed himself into your warmth as he placed your legs on his hips, bucking up into you he started thrusting into you roughly- savoring the way your pussy gripped onto his length once more.

Your legs wrapped around his hips as you felt yourself get closer to the edge, trying to pull him closer- almost like you were trapping him inside of you.

"Fuck- yes- " he groaned against your ear as he begin to nip and bite at your neck, his thrust becoming more erratic as he began to feel his climax approaching

"Want to me cum inside you? Hm, make you mine? S-Shock- fill you with m-my cum?" he whispered into your ear, your head shook erratically in agreement- missing the way he used 'shock'.

"Please, Miguel!" you moaned loudly.

"Your pretty pussy belongs to me, eres mia, solo mia" he grunted as he buried his cock deeply into you with a rough thrust and released his cum into your womb. He rubbed your clit quickly making you come against him, clenching around his cock as he filled you up.

He continued biting at your neck as his length remained nuzzled inside of you, keeping your arousals inside of you.

He lifted his face up to look at you, dazed out and blinking rapidly as you memorized the moment he made you his. Something inside of his chest began to flutter but he tried to push it down, knowing nothing good can come out of pursuing something other than physical.

"Get up, let's get you clean" he pulled out of you suddenly, making you wince at the sting of pain. He watched attentively as his cum leaked out of you onto the bed, making a wet messy puddle.

He felt guilty as he watched your face contort into pain. I shouldn't have done that, he thought as he pressed his lips together and his heart fluttered but he only continued to push those feelings down, not wanting to mess with faith.

"I don't think I can get up, 'm sensitive" you hummed the last part as you bat your eyelashes at him, he stood tall with a serious expression despite having just had a warm moment with himself. You almost felt sad at how emotionless he looked, you had just shared an intimate moment and he looked like it was a chore to be around you.

But that's how things were gonna be, if this was only meant to be physical then his emotional state should remain unspoken.

--- 🕷 ---

"You need to get up"

Miguel stood against your doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist. If you weren't tired you might've gotten on your knees for him, he truly looked delicious with water running down his body.

"You cleaned me up, I'll be fine" you mutter as you snuggle into your pillows.

"I'll be taking my leave in 30" he walked into your bathroom once more, your chest felt heavy at his words and you were beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, you liked him a little bit more now.

Sure, he didn't owe you anything but there's no way any man would just leave after stuffing a girl with cum and using her bathroom right? But a lot of men did that, and Miguel was about to become one.

"HEY!" you yell out, watching as he rolled back into your room with his suit back on, it really was marvelous he was naked underneath it the whole time.

"Can you help me up into the shower?" you smile softly, hoping his cold demeanor would melt.

With a roll of his eyes he hoisted you up into his arms.

"Want me to turn the water on?" with a nod he sat you down on the sink as he turned on the water.

"I only want to shower-"

"A bath will help your muscles relax" he interrupted, you only nodded silently- he was the boss after all.

"Get in, I'm leaving" after helping you into the shower he turned his back to you and began to walk out.

"Miguel!" you squeal, but he didn't come back this time. Your body began to fill up with anxiety, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you began to think he was gone.

Your lowered yourself into the water as the water as you began to think your world started to become cold and sad.

You were starting to miss him...

"I... I'll be back"

You whipped your head to the door to find him standing there with his mask on.

"Where are you going?" you asked eagerly, this situation almost felt homely... and personal. Like you had known each other for years.

"I'm going to grab some things, I'll be here... for a bit"

Your eyes lit up at his last words, while the eyes on his mask narrowed.

"Can you- Can you bring me back some french fries?" you asked with a small smile, hoping to ease any tension.

Something inside of him warmed up at your smile, unknowingly he smiled under his mask too. With a small nod he left, and went off into your world.

You stayed under the warm water for a bit to relish in the feeling.

He wasn't leaving after all, and it gave you hope.

Hope?

#miguel #miguel ohara x reader #fanfic #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spider man #spider man 2099 #smut #spider man 2099 x reader #marvel #bd/sm dom #jessica drew #miles molares #gwen stacy #atsv #beyond the spiderverse #red velvet #mature

162 notes · View notes

egophiliac · 1 year

Note

This may seem a bit dumb question for someone who's main in en server. But I need to prepare myself before chap 6 is coming. Anyway, is chap/book Ignihyde gonna be THAT hard?? I've seen a lot people kept saying they're not ready for chap 6 or good luck for 'that' battle. Is it that difficult?

some preparation would be a good idea, actually! if you just want advice with absolutely no potential spoilers (even vague ones), then I'll say this:

the best thing you can do for yourself is -- for the later part of episode 6 -- try to have at least one SR or SSR card no lower than level 40 for as many characters as possible (specific ones at the bottom 👇👇👇). I've seen 40 as the minimum recommended level but honestly, go as high as you reasonably can, especially with your SSRs.

I'll try to keep spoilers to a minimum, hopefully it'll still make sense :')

SO! most of the frustration revolves around chapters 6-66 and 6-67, which are both split into subroutes with multiple subchapters/battles that follow three different groups of characters. you have to finish all three routes to get to the next chapter, and they force certain requirements that can make it a lot more difficult if you aren't careful:

you build your teams at the start of the chapter, and can't change them without resetting your progress. (if I remember right, you do get a chance to rebuild for 6-67.)

teams are built by character, instead of by card like they normally are, and each one has 2-3 required characters locked into that team. you can use any cards of that character, but you can't use multiple of the same character, or use them in a different team. also, no guest/friend cards.

they tell you what the element of the bosses are, but the other battles are just...whatever. if you can manage more than one 40+ card for a character, having good type coverage will help out a lot (why yes, I did get stuck for an embarrassing amount of time on a low-level rando because I got unlucky with type matchups, what about it).

there's a couple of points where you have to wait several real-time hours before continuing. this doesn't have anything to do with the team building, it was just annoying. c'mon. >:(

to be fair, I think some of the general frustration comes from how out of nowhere it was, so it's sure to be much easier if you go in with some idea of what it'll be like. (on my first attempt I tried to be cute and put everybody with their friends. it...did not go well.) I also had a particularly hard time of it because 1) F2P = less SSRs to carry me, and 2) I hadn't really focused on any cards outside of my special little garden of favorites, so not being able to use multiples of the same character for everything kinda left me boned. I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel great when I finally got through it though!

more specific info:

in 6-66, the bosses are a 5-turn survival battle; in 6-67, they're infinite battles (reduce their HP to 0 to win) and, subsequently, much harder to get past. personally speaking, the Wood one was the hardest for me because it heals itself between turns (and also I had literally no good Rook cards at the time). your mileage may vary!

Team 1 - required characters are Vil, Epel and Rook, boss element is Wood

Team 2 - required characters are Leona and Jamil, boss element is Water

Team 3 - required characters are Riddle and Azul, boss element is Fire

teams are 5 characters as per the usual, so make sure you have good cards of the required boys and at least six to complement them, plus a few more if you want to be careful. this is ONLY for those two chapters, which are pretty late in the episode (for JP it came out as part of the final episode 6 update) so you've got time to prep!

there's the obligatory overblot battle later on that is technically harder (stronger + more HP and all that), but it felt SO much easier in comparison just because it was back to normal Twst rules. really hoping that episode 7 doesn't pull its own shenanigans 💀

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland episode 6 spoilers #going overboard on the spoiler warnings i know #it really isn't much of anything #i know twst spoilers are SUPER hard to avoid though (especially main story!) so i've been trying to tag appropriately and all #and honestly if anyone's managed to dodge them so far then they are more powerful than i will ever be #who am i to tell them nay

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sporadicthingcollection · 6 months

Text

Would You Rather...?: Part 1/2 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)

Summary: In which you make an occupational switch and a clown grows covetous. In other words, a different sort of romance dawn. Prequel to "Kiss, Marry, Kill." Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: General. Word Count: ~4.5k Warnings: Reference to past abu$e, canon typical violence.

A/N: And now for something a little different! There's no smut in this one, but the seeds of pining are planted. 🌲🌲🌲 I originally posted this this morning, but was having some technical difficulties. Take two!

I knew right from the beginning

That you would end up winning

I knew right from the start

You'd put an arrow through my heart...

---

PART 1: TROOPER'S TRIBUNAL

You start the week getting thrown in the brig by your commanding officer. You end the week helping some goofy pirate kid and his not-friends beat said commander up and legging it on a stolen boat.

All in all, it could have been worse.

Right now, you’re sitting in the cabin of said little boat, hands bound, legs crossed, and your mouth politely shut as the redhead -- Nami? Nami. -- finishes giving the men a geography lesson.

“So, now that that’s out of the way...” She casts an icy glare in your direction. “What do we do with her?”

“Toss her overboard,” the bounty hunter says -- Zoro, you’re pretty sure his name is.

Luffy is the only person who’s been giving you any grace all day. All week, even. “She helped us out and that’s how you want to repay her?” He shakes his head like a parent scolding a child. “As your captain, I’m disappointed in both of you.”

Eyerolls all around, but only Zoro speaks. “You’re not my captain and she’s not my crewmate. Between kidnapping a Marine and stealing the map, we’ve got a huge target on our backs.”

Your voice croaks as you speak. You haven't said anything in a few hours. “I deserted,” you say. “They probably won't send a goon squad or anything after you--”

If Nami’s glare was cold steel, his is titanium in a blizzard. You click your mouth shut before he decides to use those swords on you.

Luffy frowns. It’s an unnerving look on him. “Well, whatever you were before, you’re with us now.” He pauses. “Eh, what’s your name, by the way?”

More annoyed groans from the other two. Nami pinches the bridge of her nose hard enough for you to worry she might bruise it. Zoro turns away, so nonplussed that he might as well be a subtraction sign.

You think to yourself. What is your name? Your parents gave you one name, then it got changed on you, and then you got rid of that one and picked out a new one.

You give him that one. You're fond of it and it rolls off the tongue well enough.

He repeats it back and his smile returns. “Great! So that’s four of us. Good starting number--”

The crack of cannonfire splits the air, followed by an explosion.

It’s a little gratifying to see something other than annoyed disinterest on Nami’s face. “Marines?” she asks.

“Told you she’d be trouble,” Zoro says.

They run on deck. Luffy helps you to your feet so you can follow. Streaks of red rain down upon you like the boughs of a willow. It's beautiful in a concerning way, like a poisonous frog.

You’d be more concerned if you had any idea what you were looking at. Naval smoke bombs are usually a searing neon orange to better stand out against the sea and sky. Not to mention that they’re next to useless at night. This is... well, you’re not sure what it is. But whatever it is, it’s bad news.

A whistle splits the air, followed by another plume of red smoke. A powdery scent hits your nose, accompanied by something familiar. But what? Smells like talc and the anesthetic they use on pack animals...

...uh-oh.

“Kids," you say, "find something soft to land on."

Too late. Nami drops to her knees, then hits the deck with a painful thunk. Zoro fares no better and you really hope he didn’t land on his swords.

Well, no use in fighting it. You barely manage to make it back into the cabin, slumping against the bench before your legs give out. Darkness edges at the corners of your vision, and your eyes droop shut.

Footsteps make you open them. Luffy scrambles for the map and, after a moment of contemplation, tips his head back. Perhaps it’s the gas hitting you, but you can’t help but be awed as it disappears, little by little, down the kid’s gullet.

He swallows, grimacing. He then notices you.

You look at Luffy. Luffy looks at you.

“Cool,” you mumble.

Your eyelids come crashing down, and all you see are kaleidoscopes.

---

Well, that was a fucking disaster. Started out well, everyone hit their marks, and then that guy in the spot booth fucked his grand entrance up. Again. He's gonna strangle that fucker.

But that's a Tomorrow Buggy problem. Right Now Buggy has something more important to deal with: four upjumped little shitstains who stole his boat and his map.

“I've been scheming for weeks to get that map from old Axe-Hand--” Ooh, this one’s good. This'll knock 'em dead. “Moron!”

He pauses for a beat. Miss Ginger does not react, just stares at him in fear and disgust. He’s a little disappointed, but whatever. Can't land 'em all.

And then he hears it. A loud snnnnnrrrrrk, the tell-tale sign of a repressed laugh. He turns.

He'd gotten a look at all four people on the ship as they'd been hauled aboard, but you'd completely slipped his mind. A sliver of your smile flashes in the light before your eyes go wide and you slap your hand over your mouth. You look everywhere but at him, eyes darting around.

He gives you a quick appraisal. Tall, dark, in uniform. Interesting. He’ll grill you later.

Which comes sooner than expected. Miss Ginger pulls a fast one and tries to escape. He’s already got a bead on Rubber Boy and the bounty hunter, so now it’s your turn.

“Ya know, I've always found some small charm to a woman in uniform,” he chirps as he approaches you.

You stare dead ahead -- right at his nose -- and swallow stiffly. You rattle off a name, rank, and a string of numbers he doesn’t care about. He’s too busy studying your face.

And what a face it is. Roundish, but not plump. Tanned, but not burnt. The beginnings of lines crease the space between your brows. Eyes as dark as the sky opposite the dawn stare right through him and you’ve got thick, black hair to match. Damn shame you have to put it up in a cap.

Despite standing at parade rest, you spin one of the many rings on your fingers -- those don’t look regulation. You’re nervous about something, something that isn’t just the fact you're being stared down by Buggy the Clown.

You start to rattle off your identification number again. He waves his hand at you. “Just tell me where my map is, Miss Gyrene,” he says.

You bristle like an old toothbrush. It's cute. “You want that map, you’ll have to gut him--”

You clap your hand over your mouth again, eyes darting back and forth. Rubber Boy flinches slightly.

So you and Rubber Boy know where it is, and the bounty hunter and Miss Ginger don’t. Good to know.

Speaking of which, they haul her back inside soon enough. She gives him an earful and he continues to not care. He dismisses her and the bounty hunter, but stops his goons before they can haul away you and Rubber Boy.

“Not them.” He points at the two of you and crooks his fingers.

Rubber Boy wanders over with no prodding -- not an ounce of self-preservation in this one -- but you struggle as they drag you closer. He likes that little spark of fight. Makes it all the more fun to snuff it out.

"I'm gonna have a chat with my stretchy new pal. And as for you..." He gives you his toothiest, showiest smile. “Well, there’s always a place in my show for a beautiful woman with a sense of humor.”

---

Now ya done it, ya dumb bitch.

Maybe if you'd stayed quiet, you wouldn’t have had Barry Buzzy Buggy getting up in your business. Maybe you wouldn't have missed Nami's cue to leg it -- not that she got far. Maybe you wouldn’t have been voluntold for the position of lovely assistant.

But no. You had to be so nervous and jittery that you couldn't help but laugh at the dumbest thing you ever wished you'd thought of yourself.

Axe-Hand Moron. Heh.

And so here you stand, cranking a wheel on demand, assisting in the torture of the only person who's been nice to you all day. All week, even.

Not that it's really torture. Luffy seems mostly fine. Ish. He screams a bit whenever the rack stretches him, but it quickly gives way to laughter. Good to know that at least one person isn't miserable in here.

Blinky Biggy Buggy is eerily calm. He conducts himself like a shrink, probing for reasons to slap his patient with a Section 8. Or a man of the cloth, urging a stray member of his flock to self-reflect. Or a prehistoric high priest, preparing the sacrifice for slaughter.

"Oh, Miss Gyrene, dear?" he calls in a sing-song voice. "Give us another... I dunno, ten feet?"

Definitely a high priest. Definitely a sacrifice. And here you are with no choice but to twist the ceremonial knife.

...but you do have a choice. Your medical satchel hangs heavy at your side. Do no harm. You wonder why they let you keep it.

Regardless, you give the wheel a crank. Sorry, kid.

"Thanks, sweetheart." The clown returns his attention to your little buddy. Tormenting him. Grilling him. Finally finding an exposed nerve and striking out at it.

You don't listen to what they're saying. Your sanity, heavy as a sledgehammer, hangs on by a rapidly fraying thread.

What have you done? You threw away your life on a lark. Again. Why do you keep doing this to yourself?

Because you were miserable, that's why. You were miserable before. You were miserable again. So instead of dealing with your problems, you left. Coward.

Didn’t you try, though? You talked to them. One threw you in the brig. The other popped you in the mouth. So you went above their heads. One wrote you up. The other slapped you down. Only then did you burn the bridges -- absent without leave on one count, a mysterious abduction on the other.

The clown is having a moment, yelling at Luffy's hat. You wish you had a hat to yell at. But no one in either of your lives was big on headgear.

You know what? There’s no gun to your head. No threat of being thrown in the brig. Death is certain, sure, but... If you go through with this, if your saving grace dies because of you, is your life really worth living?

The clown orders you to crank the wheel 'til Luffy snaps. It registers somewhere in your mind, but you’re too caught up in your internal spiral to acknowledge it. Take a ticket and get in line with all of the other demands.

"Hey!" the clown barks. "You deaf?!"

Tiny little strands of your common sense, snapping and spinning and fraying, one by one. Just leave. Simply walk away. Or give that fucker a piece of your mind. You’re free to backtalk for once.

The clown huffs. "So hard to find good help these days," he mutters. "Gotta do everything my own damn self..."

You don't have to do anything you don't want to. You're a pirate now. The worst that could happen is death and after the times you've had, that doesn't sound too bad today.

Bitumen Blitzen Buggy stands opposite from you. He grabs the handles and gives the wheel a turn.

The thread snaps. The hammer drops. Your sanity and your last shred of self-preservation shatter like a dropped vase.

Your grip on the wheel tightens, stopping his cranking. You look him dead in the eyes.

"No," you say.

The clown stares at you, gaze wide and bright as a searchlight. "Excuse me?"

"I said no." Grabbing the bottommost spokes, you heave the wheel upwards, slackening the lines.

The glare Buoy Bursary Buggy levels at you flickers a moment. To what, you can't tell, but it returns to normal soon enough. He grips the wheel and pushes against you.

“I offer you a place of honor in my show," he says, voice rising with every word, “and you repay me with a no?”

You push back. “I'm not gonna help torture a kid. Not today. Not ever.”

After a moment of a push-pull stalemate, he loosens his grip just enough for you to lurch forward. Taking advantage of your stumble, he tightens the line. "I could find a geriatric, if that's more your style. Mister Mayor is getting up there in years."

You regain your grip. You reach deep inside yourself to summon the strength you need. Summon all the rage you've kept buried. All the fire and fury.

"I--" You grab one spoke. "--said--" Then another. "--no!"

With a mighty heave that hurts your shoulders and makes your elbows pop, the clown loses his grip and the wheel spins out. The lines lose all of their tension and Luffy hits the ground with a smack and an "oof."

You glare at the clown. In his face, you see every person who ever made you do something you didn't want to do.

Morgan. His spawn. Your birth family. Your marital family. And now a literal clown.

You spin the wheel hard. The spokes whack Blasphemy Bathymetry Buggy in the chin a few times, knocking him back a step.

You throw your Marine hat down, freeing your mane from its prison. You pull the bobby pins out and shake it like a dog coming in from the rain. With a mighty toss, you let it fall down your back.

You feel freer already.

You don't expect him to be cowed, but you'd at least hoped he would look a little taken aback by the sight of an ex-Marine with eight fingers full of rings ready to throw a punch.

But no. He just straightens up, rubbing his jaw. You can't read his face in this light. Scorn? Pity? Interest? You have no idea as he peers at you with pale eyes.

He speaks. With the gentle tone he uses, he sounds almost genuine. "Gotta hand it to you, Miss Gyrene: you've got balls."

Genuine enough to knock you off-balance. "Say again?"

"Standing up to someone ready to kill you," he says. He takes a few steps towards you. "Awfully brave. You done this before?"

He's not wrong. That sudden burst of spit and vinegar came from a decade of pent-up misery. "Kinda," you admit.

He steps a little closer. From far away, all you could make out of his face was his makeup. But now you see features you weren't expecting. Strong jaw. Cleft chin. Eyes you can't tell the color of -- blue? Green? The dim light is no help.

"No stage fright on you, kid."

He reaches towards you. You flinch, but all he does is tuck a strand of hair behind your ears with a gentle touch. He lingers on your cheek.

He's not much taller than you, but when he's this close, you have to lean back to peer up at him. His gaze is soft, his lips curled into something close to a smile, head tilted just so.

Your heartbeat quickens. Why? You have absolutely no idea.

Now he smiles, albeit thinly. He's close enough for the peak of your breasts to touch his chest. He radiates warmth, even through all of his clothes.

"Who was it that hurt you?" he asks quietly. "Was it one person? Or a whole troupe of terrors?"

You swallow. Names and faces swirl around in your head. Aunty Yoko. Sakazuki. Uncle Arun. Morgan. Mama Shruti. Nezumi. Mr. Jaswinder Rajendra. Helmeppo. Dowager Chambeli.

Your voice trembles like a harp string about to snap. "Too many to count."

“Sorry to hear that.” His lips purse. "Don't suppose one of them was ol' Axe-Hand Moron?"

Your traitorous mind still finds that funny. You manage to keep your lips shut, but the snnnnrrrrk escapes through your nose all the same.

You try to look away, but he touches your chin and tips your head back towards him.

The clown is smiling. A real, up to his scrunched eyes smile without a hint of malice. A giggle bubbles through his lips, light and airy. It almost sounds cute.

Your heart flutters again. Like a hummingbird trapped in a birdcage, tickling your ribs and making you want to vomit all over your shoes. "Morgan's a jerk," you say.

He nods. He takes your hand in his own, clutching it as he raises it higher. "I'll tell you what, sweetheart: if you tell me where my map is..."

He leans in. His warm breath tickles your ear. He smells like a tube of fancy lipstick you can't afford and sea air that blows through a bar window.

"...we'll go blow that old geezer and his base to kingdom come," he whispers, a smile still in his voice. "You and me and all my freaks. I'll even call in some favors. We'll have a whole fleet. And your little friends can come too, if they play nice."

Now that's a thought you'd entertained more than once over the years. Blow up Morgan. Stab Morgan. Feed Morgan to sharks. Set Morgan on fire. But it only ever remained a thought.

You're not sure how to feel about that. "You'd start a war over me," you state.

"What can I say?" He pulls backwards, eyes twinkling beneath his lashes. He strokes your knuckles with his thumb. "A face like yours deserves to launch a thousand ships."

Raising your hand to his lips, looking into your eyes, he places a lingering kiss on your knuckles.

For the briefest of moments, the hummingbird breaks free and zips right into your throat, stuck there between your trachea and your heart, still flapping hard. Your chest burns with a fire you haven't felt in a long time, flames licking up to your cheeks to scorch them red.

And then you're catapulted back in time, back to when a handsome man kissed your hand and smiled and made promises and you fell head over heels down the stairs.

It all changed in time. The kisses stopped. The smiles vanished. The promises were forgotten and shoved into the back of the closet. You started falling a lot more often.

Never again.

You yank your hand back. "Nice try," you growl, "but I'm not stupid."

He has the gall to pretend to look hurt, his smile slipping from his face and the glimmer in his eyes winking out. But his gaze hardens, and his cruel smile returns.

"Shame," he says. "Guess I'll just throw you on the rack instead."

You try to jump away, but he strikes like a snake, wrenching your arms at awkward angles and gripping you so tight you worry you might bruise.

“Let her go, Boogie," Luffy growls.

Grip still firm, Boogie Bouffant Buggy whirls around with you. Luffy is on his feet, free of his shackles and glowering. It's still unnerving to see anything but a smile on his face.

"It's Buggy," the clown spits. His grip on you tightens, and you cry out. "And why should I? We were hitting it off so well! Weren't we, darling?"

He simpers the last word and grabs you by the waist, pulling your hips right against his. He places his head on your shoulder, his stubble scratching your cheek.

"We were about to start picking out flowers and sending out invites and everything."

This man has triple backflipped right off the deep end. You keep struggling. You manage to hook your leg behind his, but the angle is too poor for a takedown.

He kisses your cheek. A big, ridiculous mmmmmmwah, but a kiss nevertheless. You gasp. He laughs and throws his arm wide.

"Screw the RSVPs! Everyone is invited to the Fabulously Flashy Wedding of Buggy and--!"

Two things happen at once. Luffy reels back a punch, the stretch of his skin audible. You grab Buggy’s arm, finally in a position for a takedown.

And then two other things happen. Luffy's arm snaps back like an elastic cord and punches the clown’s head clean off. You crash to the ground holding a severed arm.

Someone screams. It was you. You drop the limb like a bad habit and scramble away.

You look at Luffy. Luffy looks at you.

You both look at his fist, at your hands, then back to the headless clown, still standing.

---

Buggy didn't go into this intending to get up close and intimate with you. It just kinda happened.

Who can blame him? You flexed those big strong muscles and let down that long pretty hair and you looked so hurt and frustrated. Like an angry little kitten in need of some TLC.

So he threw you a bone. All the while, you gazed at him with those deep, dark eyes, hanging onto his every word.

He meant them as much as he could. He doesn't have the firepower to take on the whole Marine operation, but he could swing something. You seem like the kind of woman worth blowing up Marine bases for. Or a battleship, at the very least.

Shame you threw your lot in with the rubber punk.

Your skin is so warm beneath his gloves, your body so supple against his. And your hair smells very, very strongly of vanilla and... Is that cinnamon? It can't be. It's too citrusy. Regardless, it's hypnotic.

He just can't help himself. This might be the only chance he's got. He tips your head to the side and kisses your cheek.

And it's everything he hoped it would be. Your skin is so soft, so warm, so sweet beneath his lips and squished against his nose. He wishes he could linger there forever. But everything good must come to an end, and he pulls away before he overstays his welcome.

Next thing he knows, he's flying through the air. Well, just his head. He lands in an audience member's lap. She screams, of course. He plays it off with a wink and a quip.

He zooms back to his body and reattaches with a pop. Seems his arm is gone as well. He gives it a flex and clenches his fist, making you scramble away and to your feet. Terrified is a cute look on you.

"You ate a Devil Fruit?" Rubber Boy asks. He sticks his arm in front of you like it would actually help.

"Sure did!" Buggy chirps. He recalls his arm and shucks his coat, one sleeve at a time. "The Chop Chop Fruit. So you can slice me and you can dice me, but I'll always pull myself back together."

He separates his limbs from his torso and his head from his neck, just because he can. It's worth seeing the shock on your faces. Especially yours. Open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Good look on you.

It takes all of his self control to not grin as he folds his arms behind his back. "Wanna see what else I can do?"

He sends his hand skittering up your back and onto your shoulder. You scream as it jumps at Rubber Boy's face, and he yelps as well. His other hand positions itself to the side.

When you're both suitably distracted, he grabs both of your heads and slams yours against Rubber Boy's. With a sharp crack, out go the lights and you both crumple to the ground.

"Sorry, dear," he says. “Never would have worked between us.”

---

All this going unconscious is going to scramble your brains, you think as you stir. You shouldn't make a habit of it.

You open your eyes. A thin light shines right on you, burning your vision. Are you dead? Have you died?

No, your head is throbbing. Pain means you're alive. At least you've still got your medical satchel. Its presence against your side is a small comfort.

You sit up. Next to you lies Luffy, stirring slowly.

You nudge him. “You okay, kid?” you ask.

He gives his head a shake as he sits up. He smiles and it's like putting on a comfy sweater. “I'm bouncy. I can take a hit." He tips his head like a puppy. "What about you?”

"I'll have a migraine in a few hours, but I'll survive."

You go to touch the lump on your head -- only to take Luffy's wrist with you. You're cuffed together, two metal shackles connected by just enough rope to hang yourselves with. He pulls at his own shackle, but it’s stuck fast.

"I can't get it off," he says, eyes wide. "I can't stretch!"

“Of course you can't. It's lined with Seastone.”

A spotlight switches on. Buggy the Clown sits atop the edge of a large box draped in candy-striped fabric. He kicks his legs like a child sitting on a bench, twirling Luffy's hat in his hand.

“The essence of the ocean, compressed into a pretty little rock." Slowly, he pulls a yellow straw from the hat. "So not only do you have to worry about getting your feet wet, all those wonderful powers are completely useless when you least expect it.”

Besides you, Luffy bristles. You grab his hand to stop him from charging. He tenses, but squeezes back.

Buggy examines the straw, then flicks it away. “You gonna give me my map?”

Luffy scowls. “Never.”

"Not sure what I was expecting." He rolls his eyes, then turns them on you. “And what about you, sweetheart?”

You don't appreciate being patronized. "I'm gonna make you eat your hair," you spit.

“Aw, c’mon. Where do you have to go? You deserted. You’ll never be safe again.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Join the crew of the future King of the Pirates, and you'll have all the protection you need.” He gestures broadly. “Hell, if it really matters, your little buddy can come too. The more the merrier."

You enunciate every letter of the word. “No,” you say.

The calm interrogator evaporates, replaced by a petulant child. He slams his fists against the top of the box. “Well, why not--!?”

The box rocks and rattles violently. He yelps and hangs on for dear life, succeeding in staying atop it as the shaking stops. He huffs. “Fine. Have it your way."

He climbs to his feet and shoots his hands off to grab the corners of the tarp. Raising them reveals a black, rancid-smelling cavern.

“My kitty cat's been restless lately,” he says. “Lucky that I have a new pair of toys for him."

A low growl vibrates the very air around you.

You look at Luffy. Luffy looks at you.

“That wasn’t your stomach, was it?” you ask.

He shakes his head. "Was it yours?"

Another growl. Out from the darkness emerges the biggest lion you’ve ever seen. Mangy. Mean. Saliva drips from his bloodstained mouth as his eyes fix right on you.

Luffy swallows. "I think we should run," he says quietly.

You nod. “I think you’re right.”

The lion roars.

---

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#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x reader #one piece x reader #kiss marry kill #one piece #one piece live action #fan fiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #x reader #emberly writes #smash or pass #the curious courtship of buggy the clown

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fauxfickle · 2 months

Text

We now return with your regularly scheduled and all too familiar feeling of malaise and the search for "The Great All American Pizza Show!"

So it's been a little under a month since my last post and I've been skimming through commercial compilations from the LA area. I've found some cool YT channels that archive old ads from that area but I obviously don't have anything to show for it. The ads are either too early or too late to be part of this campaign which is a bit frustrating. Something I neglected to mention last time was that I was also looking through Colossal Pictures demo reels to see if they had a snippet of the animated commercial but of course, there's nothing. There seems to be a cutoff point in the early 80s as most demos only show things from that far back. I was able to find some obscure, silent, avant garde, sci-fi film possibly connected to Colossal but I don't think that'll help me much.

Colossal had some sort of "meet the crew" type video where all the employees said they're names but only their first name so I can't really track them down or anything. I'll keep looking, I didn't look all too hard as I was kinda at my wits end at that time looking through ad comps for hours.

I took a bit of a break for a while before reading through the old Pizza Times newsletters from Dec 79 - May 80. The May 1980 newsletter had some cool info about commercials and news features filmed at the various stores. Some of these aren't technically part of TGAAPS campaign but ehhhhhh I don't really care. They're part of early PTT history and I wanna see them damnit!

Let's go through these starting with Citrus Heights. The Citrus Heights section is loaded with info regarding lost media, 3 in fact! Sacramento's Channel 40 (KTXL), which has since been bought out by FOX in the mid 80s, did a Newsplus at 10 feature on the cyberamic systems at the new store during it's opening week. If we consult the ever so useful Chuck-E-Pedia, we can find that this feature would have been shot and most likely aired on Christmas week of 1979. A perfect pin point set of dates to look through! Next, Chuck was seen in the lead up to the United Cerebral Palsy Telethon which also gives us some idea of where to look. Finally, a TV commercial was filmed, possibly with TGAAPS slogan. Bob Wilkins' ad agency produced it but I couldn't find ANYTHING regarding this company. It's mentioned on his wikipedia but not named, and a even his own website doesn't mention anything about it. It's surprising that someone who seems like a local celeb in there area could have an ad agency that goes almost entirely undocumented.

Next, we move to Sparks, Nevada. Channel 2 (KTVN) filmed a feature on the store for the PM Magazine. The store was visited by reporter Keith Hirshland. Now I'm actually pretty sure I've found this dude! I found a local online article talking about him and the timeline works perfectly. Assuming this was filmed in early 1980, Keith would of been still fresh out of college with a degree in journalism and around 23. He also says he grew up running down the halls of the KTVN office. As a little aside, I'd just like to say don't bother this man or anyone/company mentioned in any of my posts. The last thing we need is to scare off these people.

This last little piece of lost media probably has the best chances of being found out of all the rest. Ben Wattenberg's 1980, from what I can find, is a dry, uninteresting TV news segment hosted by an equally dry and uninteresting host, the neo-conservative Ben Wattenberg. Ben Wattenberg's 1980 itself seems to be almost entirely lost media as only a few stills, episode descriptions, and TV listings exist online. However, this show was on PBS which no doubt has it somewhere in it's archive. What's better is that that there not only an exact date of when the episode will air, but also the name of the episode itself! One user on taptalk was able to find a TV listing which unfortunately doesn't lead anywhere and isn't archive on the WayBack machine. Luckily people actually said the name of the supposed episode which would of been "Silicon Valley: The New Entrepreneurs". We can also find evidence of it in a newspaper from that June 15th.

I sent e-mails to KTXL-40 and PBS on 2/24, so far no responses. I'll wait a little longer and in the mean time look for more leads and contacts. As I said before, don't bother these people/companies. I don't want them to be swamped with calls and e-mails and clam up on us. Bye for now!

#chuck e cheese #pizza time theatre #the great all american pizza search #the great all american pizza show #pizza time theater #lost footage #lost commercial #lost media #bob wilkins #ben wattenberg #oh god why is there a ben wattenberg tag on tumblr

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bultaoreunheyyy · 3 months

Text

Part 2

the sickfic without a title

part 1 | part 2 - word count: 5,270

Taehyung remembers the day Namjoon showed them the blueprints for the lakehouse like it was yesterday.

“I’ve technically been working on this blueprint since I was a kid,” Namjoon had told them, showing them what they had at the time thought only to be a theoretical house. “When I was in grade school, I sketched my first house with seven rooms because I thought it would be nice to live with a lot of people I love.”

Even back then, when they were all much younger and barely out of university, they all knew that their connection was something special. Special enough that they wanted to live together even if it was crammed together in a two-bedroom apartment in the city or in a seven-bedroom house by the lake that Namjoon designed for an anniversary present. Now, sitting on the porch swing on the large porch Namjoon had designed for them, Taehyung is just as enamored with the house, and with Namjoon, as he had been that day.

“The breeze is picking up,” he says, threading his fingers through Namjoon’s hair. “We should go inside soon.”

Namjoon nods against Taehyung’s thigh. He’s stretched out sideways on the swing, long legs hanging part way off the end, his head resting in Taehyung’s lap. The moonlight is bright enough that they don’t need the porch lights on. The light breeze ruffles both of their hair and Taehyung pulls the blanket that’s covering Namjoon higher over his shoulders before pulling the blanket that’s wrapped around himself a little tighter in the front.

“Yeah.” Namjoon sighs. He yawns loudly. “We should.”

“What are you two doing out here? It’s late,” Yoongi’s voice comes from the doorway, silky soft and low. He slips out onto the porch, making his way over to the wicker chair next to Taehyung, curling up with his feet pulled to his chest.

“Can’t sleep either?” Taehyung asks him, tugging the blanket off his shoulders and passing it over to Yoongi.

Yoongi pulls the blanket into his lap with a grateful nod. “It makes no sense. I feel fucking exhausted, but I’m still not able to sleep.”

The three of them sit in silence for a few minutes, listening to the gentle sounds of the nighttime.

The faint creak of the front door opening and closing again draws their attention, and soon Seokjin is standing in front of them, hands on his hips.

“You’re going to mess up your sleep schedules if you keep staying up so late,” he says. “There’s probably, like, only two hours until the sun rises.”

“You’re awake too,” Yoongi retorts, one eyebrow raised. “Come sit with us for a while. We’re on vacation, don’t forget.”

“Well I’m heading to bed soon, and we should all be trying to sleep,” Seokjin replies, but he joins them anyway, plopping himself down into Yoongi’s lap. Yoongi wraps his arms around Seokjin’s waist and pulls him close, presses a kiss to his temple, content and cozy. Seokjin melts into his embrace with a resigned sigh.

Hoseok and Jimin find them half an hour later, peeking out the front window at them before making their way outside.

“I’m so sad that Jungkook isn’t feeling well,” Namjoon says around another yawn. “He never gets sick and he’s so sad about it. It’s breaking my heart.”

“I know,” Taehyung agrees. “Poor thing.”

“How is everyone else feeling, by the way?” Seokjin asks. “No one else feels sick?”

They all shake their heads in tandem.

“Good. I hope no one else catches it. At first I thought it might just be food poisoning, but it’s definitely some kind of bug. Probably contagious.”

“That ship has already sailed, I think,” Yoongi says. “Not much to do to prevent it at this point.”

“How’s Kookie doing now?” Namjoon asks, turning to Hoseok and Jimin.

“He’s okay for now,” Hoseok replies. “Jimin and I were just lying down with him. He was mostly just dozing for a bit here and there, but there are too many things making him uncomfortable. We finally got him to fall asleep and he was snoring when we left the room, but I’m not sure how long he’ll be out for.”

Jimin sniffles, his nose running from the chilly air. “I’ll go check on him again.”

Ten minutes later, Jimin returns with Jungkook by his side, arm wrapped around his waist to help him walk out onto the porch. Namjoon sits up and they tuck Jungkook between him and Taehyung on the swing.

“Look who I found shuffling down the hallway,” Jimin teases, lightly pinching Jungkook’s cheek. “He was practically sleepwalking.”

Jungkook yawns and snuggles against Taehyung’s side. He’s shaking visibly even as they wrap all the blankets they have with them around his body. He remains quiet as they fuss over him, Namjoon arranging and rearranging the blankets while Jimin pets his hair and places a hand on his forehead to gauge his temperature.

“Wanted to be with us, baby?” Taehyung asks, eyebrows furrowing when Jimin’s hand lingers on Jungkook’s forehead, a frown forming on his face. He nudges Jimin’s hand aside and feels for himself. Jungkook leans into the touch and Taehyung finds himself frowning too at the heat he feels. “You should be resting.”

“Sorry,” Jungkook croaks, suddenly teary-eyed. “I don’t mean to worry you. I feel like I’m ruining our whole summer.”

“Well, that’s a bit dramatic,” Yoongi jokes, but then his expression softens. “But don’t you dare apologize for being sick. We’re still here spending time together, aren’t we? You’re not ruining anything.”

Namjoon nods in agreement. “You know we don’t mind taking care of you.”

“We’re gonna worry no matter what. Just ignore us and focus on feeling better, ‘kay?” Hoseok tells him.

Jungkook turns his face into Taehyung’s shoulder with a shuddering sigh, quiet for a long time. Ten minutes pass by, and then another ten minutes, during which none of them really speak, content to just sit together. When Jungkook finally turns back, his gaze lands on the water, the reflection of the moon on the surface of the lake matching the sparkling, bright reflection of it in his eyes.

“It’s so peaceful out here,” Jungkook whispers after a moment, still trembling against Taehyung’s side. His face is visibly flushed from the fever and the cool air outside, his eyes are glassy and he can barely lift his head from Taheyung’s shoulder, but the ghost of a smile that suddenly forms on his lips has all of their breaths catching collectively.

“Yeah, baby, it really is,” Namjoon whispers back. His fingers card through Jungkook’s hair and he leans over to kiss Jungkook’s cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Jungkook closes his eyes. “Love all of you.”

“We love you so much,” Jimin says, sniffling wetly.

“So much,” Seokjin agrees, snuggling into Yoongi’s chest.

“Love you guys,” Taehyung hums happily. His grip tightens around Jungkook’s shivering frame and Hoseok leans over from his chair, stretching across Namjoon to pat Jungkook’s thigh.

The seven of them sit in content silence until they’re all sleepy, more than half of them yawning in regular intervals.

“Um.” Jungkook suddenly clears his throat, and they all look at him. “I don’t want to ruin this moment. And I don’t want to throw up outside,” he says. “But I’m about to ruin this moment and throw up outside.”

“Can you make it inside, to the bathroom, if we help you walk?” Hoseok asks, keeping his voice as level as possible even though his expression betrays his alarm. He jumps out of his seat and crouches in front of Jungkook, holding out both hands. His heart pounds so hard it feels like it might escape his body.

Jungkook makes it to the hall bathroom, just barely.

Hoseok’s heart stays inside his chest, just barely.

After they clean Jungkook up, and then clean the bathroom, they’re all so exhausted they end up in bed together in their massive master bedroom. Jungkook is already asleep on the side closest to the door of the mattress that’s named after some state in America that only Namjoon ever remembers– one of the most important parts of the original blueprint, according to Namjoon– tucked under a thin blanket and curled up on his side. The bed is just big enough that they can fit all seven of them if they squeeze themselves in tight, wrapped around each other like they can’t get enough of their bodies pressed together, skin on skin on skin.

They’re all asleep by the time the sun rises, just barely.

After breakfast the next morning, Jungkook falls asleep sitting upright.

Namjoon isn’t actually sure if he’s truly asleep, but he’s dozing at least, back up against the headboard and head lolling to one side.

He’d been uncharacteristically cranky during breakfast, and had only eaten three or four crackers before trudging to his own bedroom to sit on the bed and do seemingly nothing other than stare at the wall in front of him. It wasn’t until Seokjin followed him shortly after and took his temperature that he discovered his fever had spiked sometime since waking, and that’s when Jungkook had broken down into tears, delirious with renewed anxiety about falling sick while on vacation.

Now, Namjoon eases Jungkook down onto his back, shushing him when he stirs with a moan, eyelashes fluttering in an attempt to open.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” Namjoon whispers, carding his hands through Jungkook’s hair until he stills again.

He tucks a heating pad under the covers with Jungkook, placing it on his stomach, and Jungkook whimpers and then sighs, expression relaxing. It takes less than five minutes for him to stop shivering, his chills and stomach pain eased by the heat.

Namjoon holds his hand and watches him sleep.

The rest of the day passes by rather uneventfully.

Jungkook wakes up less than two hours later drenched in sweat, fever broken and feeling so weak and achy that he uses his phone to text Taehyung that he’s awake and needs help getting to the bathroom to pee.

Jungkook sits on the toilet and Taehyung hovers just outside the bathroom door waiting for him while Hoseok changes his bedding and Seokjin cooks some white rice. Jungkook manages to eat an entire scoop of rice, even though his stomach lurches dangerously throughout the meal, but he’s able to keep it down and feels marginally better once he drinks the cup of hot ginger tea that Yoongi brews for him afterward.

In the afternoon, Jungkook convinces Yoongi and Hoseok to watch movies with him on the couch when they try to convince him to take a nap.

“You need to rest, bub,” Hoseok tells him, rubbing his back with enough force to also nudge him down the hallway a few steps.

Jungkook puts on his brakes and pouts. “I don’t want to rest,” he says, a shiver running down his spine. He’s starting to feel cold again and he’s dreading the incoming fever he can feel trying to claw its way back, prickling along his skin no matter how many fever reducers he seems to be taking. “I’m tired of being in bed.”

“Come rest in my bed, then,” Yoongi offers, but Jungkook shakes his head.

“Let’s watch a movie or something,” he tries, and Yoongi and Hoseok relent as soon as he turns his wide, pleading eyes on them.

“Fine, but you have to rest on the couch. We’re gonna watch a documentary or something boring.”

Jungkook does not pick out a documentary. He picks out a Marvel movie, and he lets himself be wrapped up like a burrito in several blankets and manhandled until he’s leaning sideways, resting against Yoongi’s side with his head on Yoongi’s shoulder. Hoseok snuggles up close on his other side, but he’s careful not to put too much weight on Jungkook so he doesn’t squish him or jostle his sensitive stomach too much.

Halfway through the second movie, when Hoseok spends five minutes just watching Jungkook fight sleep– his eyelids drooping with slow, sleepy blinks– he gets an idea.

“Come put your head in my lap,” he says, turning to sit sideways on the couch with his legs crossed in front of him. He sets a throw pillow in his lap and pats it.

Jungkook yawns and brings up one fist to rub at his eyes. When he sits up straight, Yoongi not so subtly rolls his shoulder and stretches his arm out in front of him, shaking the numbness away, but Jungkook doesn’t even notice, too focused on his task of lying down with his head on the pillow in Hoseok’s lap. Yoongi adjusts himself to a more comfortable position, sliding down so he can rest his head back against the couch cushions, and then tugs Jungkook’s socked-feet into his own lap so that he can stretch out lengthwise along the couch.

Hoseok starts by combing his fingers gently through Jungkook’s hair over and over again, untangling his wavy locks until they’re all smoothed back away from his face. Jungkook nearly falls asleep from that alone. His eyes close as Hoseok continues the repetitive motion. Then, Hoseok takes a section of Jungkook’s hair and starts to braid it– it takes him a few tries to remember the right way to do it– but eventually he gives up on trying to make it look right and just plays with Jungkook’s hair until he hears a light snoring sound.

When he looks down at Jungkook, however, he’s surprised to see that Jungkook is awake, eyes glued on the TV screen. He frowns in confusion, but then he hears the snoring again and he looks around in confusion.

That’s when he sees Yoongi, asleep on the other end of the couch, snoring softly with his mouth parted just slightly as his chest rises and falls in a slow, even pattern. The sight makes Hoseok snort in surprise. Jungkook startles, looking up at Hoseok when he nudges him, and then follows his gaze over to Yoongi.

Jungkook giggles.

It makes Hoseok’s heart flutter, to hear the sound after not hearing it for too long since Jungkook has been sick.

When Yoongi sucks in a breath mid snore and awakens with a little smack of his lips before looking over at both of them, corners of his lips turned down in a sleepy frown at being woken up, Jungkook giggles again, the sound light and joyful and so, so wonderful.

Yoongi’s frown is wiped right off his face, and even though he’s blushing at being caught asleep, he leans over and nuzzles into the blankets covering Jungkook’s legs, wrapping his younger partner’s lower half in a gentle, happy hug.

“How do you make drinking water look so sexy?”

Jimin sputters, nearly spitting out a mouthful of water, and he turns to glare at Taehyung while he coughs a few times and then drags his sleeve over his mouth to wipe up the spilled water.

“Sorry, sorry,” Taehyung says, not sounding very sorry at all.

He settles next to Jimin at the counter and pats Jimin’s back while he takes another careful sip of water and then leans forward on his elbows. Jimin clears his throat several times and then rests his cheek on one hand, still glaring, eyes tired.

“Sorry I made you almost choke on your water,” Taehyung says, his sweet tone making Jimin roll his eyes. He frowns after, then disappears for a moment before returning with a tissue in hand. “Here, your nose is running.”

Jimin takes the tissue and wipes his nose.

“Yeah, I think some water came out of my nose,” he replies testily, sniffling into the tissue.

“Sorryyy,” Taehyung repeats, dragging out the word before leaning over to plant a quick kiss to Jimin’s cheek. “Um…would you like to go on an evening walk with me?” He asks sheepishly, batting his eyelashes prettily.

Jimin sighs and resists the urge to roll his eyes again. “I’m tired, Tae,” he says softly, sniffling again before cleaning his throat.

“It will just be a short walk. It’s so nice outside tonight!”

Jimin is silent for a moment, but he’s weak to Taehyung’s hopefully, puppy-like expression.

“Fine.”

When they step outside, Taehyung holds his hand out, palm up, and Jimin huffs out a breath and rolls his eyes but takes it anyway, lacing his fingers through Taehyung’s.

“Thank you,” Taehyung says softly, once they’ve walked for a bit. “For coming with me. And for holding my hand. I love you.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Jimin retorts, but there’s a smile on his face. He clears his throat. “Love you too. This is really nice.”

Taehyung swings their arms back and forth between them as they walk on the path that encircles the lake. When they’ve been walking for ten minutes or so, he suddenly stops, turning to face Jimin.

“We should dance in the moonlight,” he says dreamily, his hands moving to Jimin’s waist. He sways from side to side, a cheesy grin on his face, and Jimin just rolls his eyes in fond annoyance.

When he stops moving, Taehyung pulls Jimin close, until their chests are flush against each other, and leans forward to press his lips to Jimin’s forehead.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, voice low and silky.

“Taehyung?”

Jimin looks up into Taehyung’s eyes. His tongue darts out over his lips.

“Yeah, love?”

“My feet are tired. Will you carry me home?”

Taehyung’s face falls.

“Carry you? How am I supposed to carry you all the way back? We’re on the other side of the lake!”

“You’re the one who said it would be a short walk,” Jimin reminds him. “Oh– hold on, I–” He breaks off abruptly to sneeze, head bobbing forward with the soft sound that catches them both off guard.

“Oh! Are you getting cold out here?” Taehyung asks, already shrugging out of his jacket. Halfway through he hears Jimin suck in a breath and he stops, instead reaching out instinctively to grab Jimin’s shoulder as he sneezes a second time and his body lurches forward.

“Okay, okay,” Taehyung says with a chuckle. “Take my jacket and then climb onto my back.”

Jimin sniffles as he wraps Taehyung’s coat around his shoulders– he does feel extra cold now, though he has been cold all day– and then jumps onto Taehyung’s back when he crouches down in front of him.

Taehyung gives him a piggyback ride all the way back to the house. When they return, Taehyung makes them both hot chocolate and they curl up under a blanket on Taehyung’s bed to watch a show on his iPad, snuggling until Jimin falls asleep with his face smushed against Taehyung’s shoulder.

One of Yoongi’s favorite parts about being on vacation is having slow, lazy mornings.

He’s never really considered himself a morning person anyway, but work usually has him awake and on the move early, sometimes before the sun is even fully up, a cup of coffee the only thing to get him through the first hours of the day without feeling irritated at the world.

This morning, he’s working on music, sitting on his bed with his guitar in his lap. Jungkook is asleep in his own bed, Jimin and Taehyung are watching TV in the living room, and Seokjin, Namjoon and Hoseok are out on the lake for a morning of fishing. Yoongi will be happy to spend time together with his boyfriends later in the day, but for now he is content with spending time by himself. It’s resulting in half a song written so far– not for work, but for fun, something he hasn’t done in far too long.

Yoongi feels more than hears Taehyung enter his room, the floor vibrating with bouncing footsteps, a slight movement in the air like a gentle summer breeze as the door is whisked open and then just as quickly pushed shut before he marches over and climbs onto the bed that shakes under his movement.

He settles in front of Yoongi on his knees, waiting with his arms crossed until Yoongi strums one final chord and then jots something down on his notepad before speaking.

“Why is everyone trying to work when we’re on vacation?” Taehyung pouts, lifting Yoongi’s arm so he can worm his way in between the guitar and Yoongi’s body. “Hoseokie was revising his sub plans for absolutely no reason, and earlier I caught Jinnie working on his supply order spreadsheet for September.”

“This isn’t work work,” Yoongi murmurs, a small smile playing at his lips. He sets his guitar to the side. “Just…a song.”

“Hmm.” Taehyung straddles Yoongi’s lap and throws his arms around his neck, leaning forward until their foreheads are touching. “Is it a song for me at least?”

“I just had something I couldn’t get out of my head.”

“You know what I can’t get out of my head?” Taehyung asks, leaning back just slightly, his gaze moving to Yoongi’s lips and then back up to his eyes.

“Why don’t you show me?” Yoongi replies with a chuckle, and Taehyung is eager to oblige, tilting his chin until their lips meet.

Yoongi is pleasantly surprised by Taehyung’s little intrusion. He slides his hands down to Taehyung’s waist and relaxes against the headboard, letting Taehyung deepen the kiss, chasing after him like a man on a mission. Taehyung kisses him with a skillful yet frenzied passion, taking exactly what he wants, and Yoongi is more than content to let him have it.

They’re still kissing several minutes later when Jimin knocks softly on the door.

“Oh,” Jimin says when he spots them on the bed, lips red and swollen. “Oh?”

Taehyung lets out a sound that’s between a whine and sigh, and Jimin is by his side in an instant, settling on the bed next to both of them.

“C’mere, Minnie,” Taehyung whispers, and Jimin smiles into a kiss, one of his hands finding Yoongi’s while the other slides up to cup the back of Taehyung’s neck.

The kiss is short, a little messy, and afterward Taehyung blinks up at Jimin and smirks.

“Now kiss hyung,” he orders, voice raspy, and Jimin easily complies, turning his head and slotting his lips against Yoongi’s.

Their kiss is more gentle, a little slower, two pairs of lips moving in time to a single beat, tongues dancing together only briefly before Yoongi hums a low sound and pulls away to catch his breath. He’s aware of Taehyung’s eyes on him, burning and hungry, and he feels a pleasant warmth spreading throughout him, radiating from low in his belly.

“Hyungs?”

The voice that calls out is so weak and distant that they almost don’t hear it, but the moment it registers the three of them are scrambling out of the room and down the hall to Jungkook’s room.

“Kookie? What’s wrong?” Taehyung gets there first, rushing to the side of the bed.

Jungkook flops onto his back and looks up at him with tired eyes. “Oh, I wasn’t sure if anyone was here,” he says, his breath catching on the last word as a wave of pain makes his stomach clench. “I, uh, thought you all might be outside…it’s been so quiet.”

“Are you okay? What do you need, sweetie?” Jimin asks, eyebrows furrowed as he inspects the younger man. “Do you need some help getting to the bathroom?”

“No, I just–” He rolls over onto his side, dragging the blanket with him, his hands in fists as he brings them up to his chest. “I just wanted…to see if anyone could lie down with me for a bit.” The last part of his sentence is mumbled, and he shifts restlessly on the bed, unable to get comfortable. “You don’t have to,” he’s quick to add, gaze moving between the three of them. “If you’re busy, it’s okay.”

Jimin is still stuck in a state of worry, but Yoongi and Taehyung both snort at the same time, their entire bodies relaxing with the knowledge that nothing is seriously wrong with Jungkook.

“Of course we can stay!” Taehyung beams at Jungkook. “We were just making out, but we can do that any time. We’d much rather cuddle with you.”

He waits while Jungkook, confusion etched on his features, scoots over in the bed to allow room for him to get in, and then he slips under the blanket next to him.

“Ohhh, you’re hot. Let’s get this sweatshirt off of you, ‘kay?”

Jungkook still looks adorably confused but he lets Taehyung tug his hoodie over his head before speaking. “What do you mean you were making out?” He asks when he’s in just a t-shirt, Taehyung pressed up against his side.

“Umm…” Jimin gets in the bed on Jungkook’s other side, desperately trying to think of a way to switch the topic, but Taehyung just laughs.

“It was so hot, Kookie. You should have seen Jiminnie and Yoongi kissing each other. When you’re feeling better, we’ll show you, okay?”

Yoongi bites back a smile and settles down on the other side of Jimin, arm resting on the pillow above Jimin’s head so he can reach over to run his fingers through Jungkook’s hair. “Don’t listen to Tae, baby. We weren’t doing anything, really. We’re more than happy to lie down with you for as long as you want us to.”

They all watch in amusement, and then alarm, as Jungkook finally processes the words, his mouth falling open wide for a moment before his bites down on his lip and his eyes well up.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You were having a good time and I interrupted. I’m so sorry!”

Hot tears pour down Jungkook’s face and Jimin frantically shakes his head, wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s waist. “No! No, Jungkookie, you didn’t interrupt!”

“Oh, baby!” Taehyung laughs, cupping Jungkook’s cheek. “I wasn’t telling you to make you sad. I was just trying to distract you. Now I’ll have to make it up to twice as good to you when you’re all better.” He leans in close, whispers like he has a secret for only Jungkook to hear even though Yoongi and Jimin are still listening. “Bet you’d be so good listening to me tell you how to take your hyung apart with those lips, hmm?”

Jungkook, still crying, snorts out a watery laugh and covers his face with both hands, cheeks burning pink.

“Can’t wait,” Jimin giggles, leaning down to press his lips to Jungkook’s hot cheek. “Oh, you really are very warm. Can I take your temperature?”

“Let me,” Yoongi says, climbing out of bed to fetch the thermometer.

Jimin makes room for him to crawl beside Jungkook when he returns, and he sits on the bed and carefully guides the thermometer under Jungkook’s tongue one-handed. In his other hand is a folded wet cloth, and he uses it to wipe the tears from Jungkook’s cheeks while they wait for a reading. Jungkook groans loudly when a wave of nausea hits hit at the same time that Yoongi tries to place the cool washcloth on his forehead, mouth tightening around the thermometer, and for a moment the three of them freeze, worried he might be about to throw up right then and there; after several long, tense seconds, Jungkook shivers hard and his face relaxes slightly.

The thermometer beeps then. Yoongi takes it out and looks at the temperature, tilting it side to side so Taehyung and Jimin can both see the number– 39 degrees even.

“Please, no,” Jungkook whispers, his body shaking with chills. “Too cold.”

It takes a moment for Yoongi to realize he’s referring to the cloth on his forehead. “Doesn’t it feel nice and cool, though? Your skin is so warm, baby.”

All it takes is one pout from Jungkook for Yoongi to sigh and remove the washcloth. He carries it and the thermometer back to the bathroom and then returns to settle back in the bed on the other side of Jimin again.

As the three of them shift around him to get comfortable, Jungkook swallows thickly and squeezes his eyes shut. His jaw is set and Taehyung sees him swallow again, seemingly in pain.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asks. He pulls his sleeve over his hand and uses it to wipe the beads of sweat forming along Jungkook’s brow.

“Hurts,” Jungkook whimpers, hands clutching his belly.

“Do you want me to rub your tummy, sweetie?” Jimin asks, and Jungkook nods through a groan.

“Let me know if you feel like you’re gonna throw up or something,” Taehyung tells him.

Jungkook sighs when Jimin slips a hand under his shirt and starts rubbing circles on his stomach, but after less than a minute he makes a small sound in the back of his throat– for a split second Taehyung fears the worst, but then Jungkook yawns widely, his body shuddering along with the motion.

“Ohh, sleepyhead,” Taehyung chuckles, kissing his forehead. “You’re so cute.” He smiles when Jungkook blinks sleepily up at him. “You’re making me feel tired.”

Jungkook frowns at that. “I don’t want to keep you awake if you’re tired,” he whispers. He looks over his shoulder at Jimin and then props himself up a little so he can look at Yoongi too. He’s about to say something, but then he yawns again and it sets off a chain reaction of yawns– first Yoongi yawns, and then Jimin and Taehyung yawn at the same time, giggling softly afterward.

“Hyungies are so tired,” Jungkook pouts. “Please go rest. I’ll be okay by myself now.”

Jimin’s hand stills on his stomach. “Kookie, we’re fine. You’re the one who needs to worry about getting rest.”

“Please,” Jungkook says. His voice is shaky and hoarse. “Please. I don’t want you to run yourselves down looking after me.”

“How about this,” Yoongi interjects quickly. “You fall asleep first, then we’ll all go and take a nap too.”

Jungkook sticks out his lower lip. “If I fall asleep first, how will I know if you keep up your end of the bargain?”

Jimin laughs and resumes rubbing his belly. “Jungkook, we promise. None of us are going to say no to a nap right now.”

Jungkook is silent for a few moments while he thinks it over.

“If you fall asleep first, we’ll go take a nap and I'll play guitar for you later,” Yoongi offers, sweetening the deal.

They all see the way Jungkook’s eyes light up at the offer, and they exchange grins as he curls onto his side and tugs the comforter to his chin.

“Okay. Look, I’m going to sleep.” He closes his eyes and squirms a little until he’s more comfortable, tucking his hands between his cheek and the pillow. He’s still for a moment, and then he cracks eye open and looks at Taehyung in front of him.

“Have a good nap, hyung,” he whispers, and then closes his eyes again, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Jimin chuckles and pats Jungkook’s hip. “Okay okay. We’re all going. You have a good nap too, sweetie. Please call us if you need us, okay?”

Jungkook hesitates to respond, already thinking of how he’d use his phone to call one of the others in case the three of them actually do go take a nap– or some other activity in bed– but then the three of them are slipping out of his room, footsteps light, and he feels the warm tug of drowsiness tugging him closer to sleep, and he lets it pull him all the way under without a fight.

part 3

27 notes · View notes

forjongseong · 2 years

Text

millones // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: secretary!jay x CEO!fem!reader

genre: fluff, smut, crack at some point idk, office!au // warning: older reader; Jay calls reader “Boss”; a bunch of 4th gen K-Pop idols make an appearance (as staff); hyung-line makes another appearance; making out; protected sex; office sex; fingering; unprotected sex; creampie // wc: ~9.8k

previous chapters:

part 1 - carmesí part 2 - mi reina

next chapters:

click here for the masterlist

summary: this is PART THREE of the secretary!Jay series, read the two parts before continuing! in this part, you carefully cruise through your working days while keeping your relationship with your personal assistant a secret.

author’s note: when I first wrote carmesí I never intended it to have a sequel, let alone a third part! ideas just kept coming and with the help of my readers and anons (who kept asking for more and sending me hard thoughts through my ask box), I actually cooked this one up in a couple of days.

there are still a lot of unanswered questions by the end but I am pretty proud of how the last scene turned out. if you choose a happy, open ending then I hope you're satisfied with this part.

if not, I already am working on the next part and I do know the type of conflict to insert in their lives (angst, anybody?). oh, and you can check more of my work here.

enjoy! the title millones is another one of Camilo's songs, by the way.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @hee-pster @jaylaxies @aminatalks @thots4hee

(send an ask if you want to be tagged!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All the lights were turned on in your walk-in closet. It was early in the morning and you were trying to find the perfect outfit for the day. You usually do this at night, but you spent hours and hours tangled up in bed with Jay, and you nearly had to drag him and kick him out of your place so Mr. Lee wouldn’t ask questions when he picks you up in the morning and find Jay already with you.

You looked at the weather app in your phone and saw that it was going to be fairly sunny and hot. You sighed and opted for a dark-green ribbed turtleneck, obviously sleeveless since you did not want to sweat too much. You then took your short sleeve ivory blazer that you reserved just for the casual walks on a summer night. Pairing it with black palazzo pants, you thought it was still office-appropriate, and then you realized you’re the boss so technically you could dress however the fuck you want.

As you walked across your apartment lobby, you saw your Benz pull up just in time. You thought you were late for having to take more time with your outfit, but the only thing you missed that morning was your daily chat with your doorman. He opened the door for you and smiled.

“Love the casual look, Miss,” he said, nodding at your outfit.

You smiled back and winked at him and opened the door to your car, noticing Jay had opened it from the inside.

“Morning, Boss,” he said as you slid in. “I didn’t know we’re going casual today,” Jay unlocked his iPad to check the day. It was Monday and definitely not casual Friday.

“Show me today’s schedule,” you said, completely ignoring the comment on your outfit.

Jay talked you through the agendas of your day while typing in the notes app the stuff he really wanted to ask you.

Are you covering up the hickeys? Did I leave too many?

“Yes, I think you need to be more careful with this next time,” you said, pretending to point on the iPad screen as you glanced at Mr. Lee.

“Right, sorry, Boss,” Jay cleared his throat. You looked at him and he winked. It took everything in you not to blush and laugh.

When you arrived at the office, you went straight to the largest meeting room, finding your staff already there waiting for you. You weren’t late, they were just smart enough to be there five minutes before you arrived.

“Good morning, Boss,” Yeonjun, the loudest in the group, shouted from his seat.

You almost flinched from how loud he spoke and smiled calmly as you walked to your seat, the farthest from the door. “Morning, everyone.”

The other staff quickly sipped their morning coffee, or tea, and some were still chewing the snacks they got from the bar. When it comes to morning meetings, you insisted that they store munchies in the snack bar and serve fresh pots of coffee and tea so the staff do not need to worry about getting breakfast and arriving late.

You smiled as you looked at your staff sitting around you, some were still swallowing and wiping off their mouths. Jay sat across you, all the way on the other side of the long table because that was always his spot, to make sure everyone else is paying attention.

“Can we start?” You asked, like a teacher trying to get the attention of her rowdy students.

On the other side of the room, Jay gulped. Hearing you say those words reminded him of when you sucked the life out of him in your office. The first of many sinful rendezvous with you.

“Yes, Miss,” said Beomgyu, also one of your feistier staffs. Him and Yeonjun should be awarded loudest employees of the month.

You went over the most important issues to cover, starting with recaps of the previous month, having each of your representative of the team present their results. You would glance at Jay and see that he was diligently taking notes so you wouldn’t have to, and when Jay saw you look at him, he made sure to send you a wink, aware that all the other eyes were focused on the person presenting.

“And that’s all from my team, Miss,” Beomgyu ended his presentation with a dramatic bow. The room erupted in applause and random shouting, Yeonjun wildly slamming the table and Soobin throwing a crumpled up tissue to Beomgyu’s face.

Jay tapped his empty coffee cup on the table to tell the whole room to keep it down. You smiled as you made the last notes on your iPad.

“And now for the welcoming party theme for our new interns,” you put your iPad down and leaned in towards the table with your elbows propping you up. “Somebody give me ideas because I don’t have any.”

“Miss, I was thinking that we could make it a little livelier and hype by just adding a DJ,” Yeji said as she raised her hand. “And like, have a dance floor, but keeping it classy and not like a complete house party or anything.”

“Noted,” you approved of Yeji’s idea straightaway, you were planning on making it fun for your interns anyway.

“Oh my God,” Keeho suddenly spoke. Sumin and Theo who were sitting next to him turned their heads towards him. “Costume party.”

There was an audible gasp in the room and you couldn’t tell if your staff was completely repulsed by the idea or that they think it’s genius.

“Miss,” Jiung chimed in with a lower voice, having being the one sitting the closest to you. “Can we have a costume party? It sounds fun.”

You looked at the rest of the people and they were all looking at you full of hope, some even putting on their best puppy eyes. You looked at Jay and he was just smirking, doodling on his iPad.

“I did ask you for ideas and since you all seem on board with this then let’s make it happen,” you stood up and walked towards the huge whiteboard. Jay instinctively stood up too, thinking you were going to write something so he rushed to your side.

“We need ground rules, though,” you said, and Jay picked up a marker and started writing. “I don’t want you to go overboard and come dressed up like a team mascot, so no costumes like that. Let’s stick to occupations.”

Some of your staff were already murmuring to each other, telling them what they were going to dress as.

“Think of it as Halloween, but nothing too inappropriate, please, this is an office environment, not a frat house.”

Jay jotted down everything you said and your employees nodded at you. After a short session of Q&A, you wrapped up the meeting and sent everyone away, except for Yeji and Keeho. You talked to them privately to make sure they took care of everything for the party, and Jay was beside you silently taking notes.

“Got it,” Keeho said, gesturing an OK sign with his fingers. “By the way, loving your outfit today, Miss. Did you opt for a turtleneck to cover your hickeys?”

Jay froze as he was writing the last of his notes. Yeji immediately elbowed Keeho in the chest and started apologizing for him. The interaction amused you so much that you laughed, and the three other people around you thought you had lost it.

“First of all, you didn’t have to hit him like that, Yeji. Second, yes, Keeho, I’m covering it up but don’t you dare gossip about it.”

Yeji still had her hand covering her mouth from the shock, but being her curious self, she couldn’t help but ask.

“So you’re dating someone, Miss?” She asked. Her eyes were sparkling and her high ponytail made her overall face look even cuter.

Before you could even answer, Keeho smiled and started clapping dramatically. “Look, Park, even your boss is getting more action than you.”

You almost completely forgot about Jay’s presence because of how silent he was. You turned to look at him, your eyes wide and expectant of what was going to come out of his mouth.

“You know what, Keeho--”

“Now, now,” you stepped in, stopping the conversation from getting out of hand. “Meeting’s over. You guys can talk about this later.”

“Sorry, Miss!” Yeji stood and bowed politely to you, slapping Keeho’s arm to make him do the same. You smiled as you watch them leave. And then you turned to see Jay, his ears completely red and his face looking like he had just seen a ghost.

“Fuck,” he muttered, letting his body slump to the desk. “How are you so calm?” He asked, looking at you in wonder.

“I’m not,” you reached for his hand and pressed in on your chest, making him feel your heartbeat. “I just hide it well.”

Jay carefully pulled his hand away, not wanting to feel even more flustered than he was. You chuckled and stood up, patting him on the back before leaving the meeting room.

---

It was the day of the welcoming party for the interns and you were determined to make a uniform out of the clothing items that you already own. You didn’t want to compromise style, so you decided to pair your navy pencil skirt with a matching navy cropped blazer. You had a sleeveless button-up that was covered in white and blue stripes, and out of the smaller scarves you owned you picked a yellow one to contrast your outfit. You wore your hair up in a classic bun and finally checked your fit in the mirror. You were going to work as a flight attendant.

Mr. Lee picked you up alone, saying that Jay had last minute errands to run. You didn’t bother asking him, thinking that he’d manage to get to work on time anyway. You arrived a lot earlier than usual, and you saw most of your employees had arrived too. One was dressed as a fireman, a postman, a police officer, a zookeeper, and many other occupations. You were really impressed by their dedication until you spot Beomgyu in the corner, standing up as he saw you.

“Morning, Miss!” he exclaimed, saluting you for no reason.

“And what are you supposed to be?” You asked, eyeing his comfortable fit—a light blue pullover with some plaid flannel pants.

“I am unemployed,” Beomgyu said with a straight face. The other staff started giggling.

You snorted, shaking your head. “Keep slacking and you will be.”

“Miss, oh my God,” Ryujin walked up towards you. She was dressed as a paramedic. “You nail the Barden Bella look.”

“Barden what?” You tilted your head, confused.

“Barden Bella!” Keeho chimed in, dressed as a zookeeper. “You know, Pitch Perfect.”

Theo and Jiung started singing the I Saw the Sign song and even did the whole choreo with Keeho. The other staff just laughed, some ignoring as they began their work, checking that it was already 9AM.

“What? No,” you looked at yourself and pulled the edge of your blazer. “I’m part of the cabin crew. I’m a flight attendant.”

“And there’s your pilot!” Yeonjun shouted, tilting his chin to whoever was behind you.

You turned around to find Jay, smirking as he fixed the buttons on his jacket. There he was, hair slicked back, wearing the full uniform of a pilot, even with the hat tucked in one arm.

“They texted each other to match, bet,” Beomgyu nudged Yeonjun’s arm.

“Stop it that’s so cute,” Yeji, dressed as a waitress, and who was standing behind the two, inserted herself into the conversation.

“I can hear you,” you raised your voice, although you kept your gaze on Jay. “All of you.”

You noticed Jay’s tie being a little wonky so when he walked up to you, you immediately brought your hands up to fix it. It took everything for everyone to stay quiet, what with Jay’s cocky smile plastered on his face and all. Ryujin was pinching Yeji’s arm and Yeji smacked Beomgyu’s shoulder a little too hard, making him wince.

“You know I don’t tolerate messy,” you eyed the rest of your staff who immediately threw their teasing smiles away. “Stay neat and presentable until the party, then you can let loose.”

“Yes, Miss!” Your staff yelled in unison and you almost felt like you were back in a classroom.

You gave them a nod before turning on your heel and heading to your office. Jay tailed you right after.

“Want me to go through your schedule today, Boss?” Jay asked as he closed the door behind him, watching you head over straight to your desk.

Turning on your computer and keeping your eyes on the screen, you nodded. Jay took his iPad out of his briefcase—yes, he did bring a briefcase to complete the pilot look—and began to recite your agenda. You took your blazer off and hung it on your chair, and Jay paused for a second, taking in the view of you in a sleeveless button-up.

“And what’s at 3PM?” You asked, eyes still glued to your screen.

Not hearing a response, you called for him. “Park?”

Jay licked his lips before he continued. “A conference call, Boss.”

“And after that?”

“Done.”

“Okay,” you clicked several times on your mouse and started typing something. Jay made his way to your mini bar and got you a glass of cold water.

“Am I crazy or are you purposefully avoiding eye contact with me?” Jay asked as he set a coaster on your table before putting the glass of water on it.

“Smart boy,” you muttered.

“Okay, what did I do wrong?” Jay moved to the front of your desk and rested his hands on the edge, leaning in.

You took a deep breath, stopped typing, and leaned back on your chair. “Can you please not do that?”

“Do what?” Jay was genuinely oblivious.

“You with your pilot uniform and your hair slicked back,” you started gesturing your hand to him. “It’s too much for me.”

“You don’t like it?” He asked, eyes turning puppy-like.

“No, no, that’s the problem,” you brought your hands to cover your mouth. “I like it a little too much,” your voice trailed off at the end, almost making the last word sound like a whimper.

And Jay’s cocky smile was back on his face. He started making his way over to your chair, keeping his smile. You scoffed and pushed your chair backwards with your feet, away from him.

“Park,” you warned him. “Don’t even.”

To your surprise he knelt to the ground, putting his hands on both your thighs. You brought a hand to your forehead, gently massaging it because you know if you didn’t you were going to get a headache.

“Just so you know,” Jay spoke, calmly. “Your outfit is also doing things to me.”

Jay gently put his hand behind your leg and raised it, planting a kiss near your ankle. You thought he was going crazy, but maybe you were.

“Nice Chanel shoes,” he said, winking at you.

After leaning in to kiss your knee, not forgetting to give your thighs a squeeze, Jay stood up and walked out of your office like nothing happened. You began to regret why you approved of your staff’s idea of a costume party. Or maybe you should actually be thanking them.

---

The day went by in a manner that was somewhat chaotic—your staff got way too into their characters to the point they were actually roleplaying. Whenever the office got a little too quiet, someone would speak up and do something related to their fake job, and you had to call on Jay several times to handle the crowd. It did not completely irritate you, though, knowing that your employees are reliable and they still get their jobs done at the end of the day.

When it was time for the party, the whole staff gathered at the annex, and you told them you were going to arrive a bit late because of a schedule that got pushed back. Jay offered to stay back with you, but you insisted that you could do without him and instructed him to go take care of the interns.

You walk out of your office, into your staff’s area and found Beomgyu searching for something in the drawers.

“Why aren’t you at the party?” You asked, making him flinch and almost hit his head on the desk.

“Oh, Miss,” he stood up straight and found what he was looking for. “I was looking for nametags for the interns.”

The two of you then headed to the annex together, Beomgyu initiating hilarious and unnecessary small talk that made you laugh. As you rode the elevator down, you caught the reflection of you both and immediately think you looked like his mother, about to take him to a sleepover.

“Here you go, you little rascals!” Beomgyu shouted, not bothering to usher you in, running towards the group of interns that was gathering in the center of the room.

The annex was decorated in a way that made it seem like a legit party. No one would think that it was part of the office building, and your team had really outdone themselves with the finger food spread and the DJ. You scanned the room and found Jay standing by the wall, talking to a couple of new faces that you presumed to be some of your interns.

Your other staff noticed your arrival and immediately ushered the interns to greet you. The nametag Beomgyu brought for them proved to be useful, making it easier for you to memorize their names and faces. Jay decided to lay low and just observe the whole party from a corner, partly because that way he can relax and just admire you without anyone asking questions.

It was mostly a lot of chatter and music, and some dancing initiated by your staff. You noticed one of your interns, named Intak, who was dressed as a fireman, completely destroy the dance floor with his moves and initiating a little dance battle to steal the spotlight. You moved to the open bar and leaned on it, holding your drink. You then spot an intern walking towards you.

“Hi, Miss,” he said with a sunny smile plastered on his face.

You smiled back as you glanced at his nametag. “Hi, Sunoo. You’re dressed as a barista?”

Sunoo nodded enthusiastically. “Can I just say that it’s so awesome for you to do this? I’ve heard stories from my older friends who just got a job and their workplace is nothing like this.”

“Thank you,” you raised your glass to Sunoo. “I do hope you like it here. What division are you?”

“HR,” Sunoo replied, still keeping his smile.

You eyed Beomgyu, head of your HR division, who was now doing breakdancing moves going against Intak. Literally broken, you thought. You then sighed as you looked back at Sunoo.

“You’re in good hands,” you winked. Sunoo just laughed at your comment.

As Sunoo continued to talk to you, you fixed his collar that was folded the wrong way, and you swore he almost blushed at the gesture. After sending him off to socialize with the other staff, you hopped on the bar stool and crossed your legs, observing the fun that was unfolding in front of you.

You caught someone approaching you through your peripheral vision and from the shade of his clothes, you already knew it was Jay. He slid to stand beside you, facing the bar instead of the dance floor, waiting for his drink to be made.

“I thought you only do that to me,” he said, sulking.

You glanced at him. “Sorry?”

“You fixed that interns collar,” Jay continued, turning around as soon as he got his drink in his hands. “And to think that I was special, having you fix my tie in front of everyone else.”

Your mouth was agape, slightly speechless at this new side of Jay. “I fix everyone’s outfit if it’s not neat and you know that.”

Jay shrugged before taking a sip. “I should put on a messy tie more often then.”

You were about to respond to him when you suddenly hear the DJ play one of your all-time favorite songs.

“You said you hated the ocean but you’re surfing now…”

You gasped loudly and Jay almost thought he hurt you in some way.

“What?”

“That’s my song,” you said, clutching your heart as if something grand and romantic had just happened and not just a song playing through the speakers.

Jay exhaled and rolled his eyes, relieved but also surprised at your exaggerated reaction.

“Couldn’t ever imagine even having doubts, but, not everything works out…”

Some of your staff, who were aware that Camila Cabello is one of your favorite artists, started cheering and calling for you.

“I know this is your song, Miss!” Yeji shouted, gesturing you to come over.

Keeho jogged over to you and even went so far to grab you by your hand. “Miss, you can thank me later, come on.”

And then from the other side of the room Sunoo was shrieking, excited to see you join the dancefloor because it was his favorite song too.

Unsure whether to stop you or push you, Jay just stood there at the bar with the drink in his hand as he witnessed Keeho dragging you to the center of the room.

“You could be casually dating, damn it’s all changing so fast…”

As soon as the chorus dropped you immediately copied the dance moves from that one performance you’ve watched a thousand times. Surprisingly, some of your employees know the choreo too and they joined you the second you started dancing.

Jay’s jaw dropped as he watched the scene in front of him basically turn into an organized flash mob, like something out of a Bollywood movie. It wasn’t, but the staff were just so good at improvising and following you as the center.

“I was barely standing but now I’m dancing, he’s all over me. Ba-da bam bam bam bam~~”

The crowd went wild as you continued shimmying to the song, and poor Jay was so flustered that he couldn’t help but to loosen the very tie you fixed for him that morning. The only thing he could do after that was just watch you, completely transfixed and also questioning if you really were the same person he works under.

After perfectly lip-syncing and just freestyling to the whole song, your staff cheered for you and, as you expected, Beomgyu and Yeonjun were being the loudest. They were overjoyed that you decided to actually join in the fun for once because usually you were the type to stand on the sides and keep an eye on everyone.

“Thank you,” you squeezed Keeho’s shoulder and he just winked at you, happy that he was right.

You walked back to the bar and found Jay looking at you in a manner that was different. He had this stupid, confused smirk on his lips and his tie was a mess. You could even see beads of sweat on his temple if you squinted enough.

“Are you okay?” You asked him out of concern.

“Who are you?” He asked you back, enchanted.

You covered your mouth with both your hands as you usually do when you want to hide yourself blushing.

“Do you think they will notice,” Jay leaned in to you to speak closer to your ear, “...if we slip out?”

You made a quick count of the people in the room and noticed some of your staff were gone anyway. Before the party, you had already told your team that you weren’t going to stay until it ends, and they were used to seeing you leave early most of the time.

“I don’t think so,” you said, keeping your eye on the crowd.

“Good,” Jay finished his drink and fixed his jacket. “I’ll see you in your office.”

Jay swiftly made his way out of the room without another question for you, and after waiting for a couple of minutes you excused yourself and left too.

You were glad that the day is over because you thought you couldn’t spend another second seeing Jay in his pilot uniform. You began to think if that was the reason he didn’t pick you up with Mr. Lee that morning, or if somehow he just knew you were going to dress as a flight attendant, and that he intentionally matched with you.

Whatever the reason, you were caught off guard when you entered your office and felt your hand being pulled in. Jay shut the door behind you and made sure to lock it right away before reaching for your waist and pulling you into a passionate kiss.

Your arms instinctively slither around his shoulders as he grabbed you tighter, pressing his lips into yours a little harder, even grunting when you decided to lick his lower lip to enter his mouth. His hands traveled down to your ass, squeezing it while his tongue fights for dominance against yours.

He pulled back and you could see him breathing heavily, his breath hot against your face as he rested his forehead on yours. You caressed his cheek and he snuggled into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Sorry?”

“I don’t think I can be gentle with you tonight.”

Your breath was shaky as you heard him say those words. You tilted your head to kiss his lips.

“I don’t mind,” you said, before kissing him again.

Jay immediately picked you up and walked to your desk, making you sit on top of it. You took off your blazer and untied the scarf around your neck in an instant, while Jay cleared the stuff on your desk to make space. You reached into your top drawer to get out the box of condoms that Jay conveniently stored for you, and as you sat back up you saw him about to take his jacket off.

“No,” you said, immediately halting his actions. “Keep your uniform on.”

Smirking, Jay leaned in to kiss your lips while he hastily unbuttoned your shirt. The moment it was off, he didn’t waste a second to unclasp your bra, his fingers finding it the moment he touched your back. You pulled your bra off and dropped it to the ground. Leaning back and propping yourself with your palms, you raised your eyebrows to Jay.

“There,” you said, with a smile. “Easy access.”

“Fuck,” Jay muttered before diving in to bury his face in your breasts. You chuckled at the action and started stroking his hair, humming when you feel his tongue swirling around your nipple. Jay devoured you, leaving sloppy kisses and love marks around your breasts, not caring how bad the bruises will look the next morning.

You can feel yourself dripping underneath your skirt and your panties, so you didn’t wait for him to undress you. Keeping himself occupied on your breasts and your neck, you moved to rid yourself of your lower garments. When you were about to take your shoes off, Jay gripped your wrist with one hand.

“Leave it on,” his voice husky. “Take everything else off except your shoes.”

You obliged and immediately spread your legs wide open for him. He exhaled at the sight, brushing his hair back and keeping his eyes on your wet cunt.

“All for me?” he asked, looking back at you.

Smiling, you reached under his jacket and pulled him closer to you by his belt. Leaning in to speak right in his ear, you started unbuckling his pants.

“All for you,” you said, unbuttoning his jacket but keeping it on and pulling the belt off. “Sir.”

Jay grunted before smashing his lips into yours and you yelped at the sudden force he had against you. His hands were scrambling to get his dick out and you helped him put on the condom that you took out earlier. Setting your hands around his neck, you moved your hips closer as he aligned himself to enter you.

His hand was on your back and the other propping himself up on the desk. When he slid into you, you gasped and gripped his shoulders tighter, wrapping your legs around his waist to secure his position. You tilted his chin up, kissing him nonstop as he stretched your walls, not moving until you give him the go.

You started grinding your hips and he took it as the signal. At first he was slow, generously giving you the time to adjust to his size, but then you feel him hit the spot and you moaned loudly. Immediately after, you shut your own mouth with your hand, worried that someone might come up to your floor and hear you.

“I’m sorry but you’re gonna have to keep it down,” Jay spoke to you softly. “We don’t want anyone to catch us, do we?”

Jay started thrusting in and out of you, and it became unbearable for you to keep your mouth shut. Instead of loud moans and breathy chants of his name, like what you would usually do when Jay was fucking you at your place, you resorted to muffled whimpers and short gasps. Jay kept his pace as he kissed you, his hands busy massaging your sides and groping your ass, holding you with a force that was definitely the opposite of gentle.

“A-ah,” you sighed, head resting on his shoulder. “Jay…”

From the corner of your eyes, you can see your Chanel shoes dangling at your feet as Jay ruthlessly continues to thrust into you. He kept his grunts and moans contained by sucking on your neck and biting on your shoulder when it gets too much even for him. His thrusts became faster but also sloppier, and he was biting your neck harder. The pleasure mixed with pain made you cum around his cock, him following you just seconds after. When he pulled out, you can see your own wetness staining your desk, and the two of you slowly began to catch your breath.

Jay took off the condom and discarded it, immediately putting his pants back on but taking off his jacket because of how hot it got. He saw you glistening in sweat, naked except for the shoes on your feet.

“God, I really want to take a picture of you right now,” he said, scrambling to find his phone in his jacket. “May I?”

You looked down to see the bruises on your breasts starting to form, and when you ran your fingers up your neck you could feel the faint bite marks that he left. You looked at Jay and saw that he was still waiting for your permission, and when you nodded he started taking pictures several times as you moved your hands around your body.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Jay threw his phone to the sofa before lunging into you again, initiating yet another make out session.

When you were finally done dancing with each other’s lips, Jay quickly gathered your clothes for you. He helped you dress up, and while he was buttoning your shirt for you, he tilted his head.

“I forgot. Who came up with the idea of a costume party?” He asked calmly.

“Keeho,” you stated, remembering the meeting clearly.

He looked at you as he finished helping you dress. Jay tied your scarf around your neck so it would strategically cover the new hickeys, while you fixed his tie again to look more presentable.

“Yeah, maybe I should treat him to dinner or something,” you said after seconds of silence. Jay burst out laughing, resting his head on your shoulder.

---

It was a lovely afternoon, you and Jay were on your way back from a meeting at a building that was walking distance to your office. Since you needed to do your steps, you were the one who suggested walking to and from the meeting, and Jay only agreed because you were wearing your sneakers. Both of you were holding half-full cups of latte that you got from the meeting, and as you walked you discussed what happened.

“I think a staff meeting is necessary to address this,” you said as you avoided a student who was walking in your path. “Can you schedule one for tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Jay quickly made a note on his phone before putting it back in his pocket.

You reached a zebra cross and a lot of people were waiting to cross the road. Among the crowd, you spot a lady in a wheelchair patiently waiting for the light to turn green. When it did, everyone else started walking including you.

“Oh, right, Hwiyoung was asking for you earlier before lunch,” you spoke as you were in the middle of crossing the road. “Park?”

Not hearing a response, you turned around just as you crossed the road and you found Jay running back to the other side. The girl in the wheelchair somehow got her wheels stuck, and she was not even halfway across the road while the green crossing light was about to turn red. Jay quickly pulled her wheelchair back to the starting point just as the lights for the cars turned green.

“I’m so sorry,” said the girl to Jay. “I’m pretty heavy. It must have been hard for you.”

Jay shook his head reassuringly and smiled. “No, don’t worry about it. I work out a lot. I’ll help you cross the road when it turns green again.”

It took a while until it was the pedestrians’ turn to cross the road. You waited until Jay reached you, still pushing the girl in the wheelchair. The girl noticed you and realized that you were waiting for him.

“I’m sorry,” the girl apologized again and you felt horrible. “Your husband is very kind for helping me.”

For a split second you wondered what made the girl think you and Jay were married, and while you were thinking, Jay was sure that you would deny the status, so he was prepared to step in.

“Oh, I’m--”

“He is very kind. Thank you for saying that,” you smiled at the girl. “Where are you headed?”

“To the bus stop over there,” the girl pointed.

Jay looked at you questionably and you just nodded, signaling him to keep pushing her wheelchair.

“We’ll walk you there,” you stated, starting to walk slowly.

“Oh, I don’t want to keep you,” the girl was waving her hands shyly, thinking she had caused an inconvenience.

“Relax, we’re also going that way,” you gently patted her shoulder, letting her know that everything was okay.

Jay carefully pushed the wheelchair and initiated conversation too. “Are you a university student?” He asked, raising his voice a bit.

“Yes, I just got out of class, I’m on my way home,” she answered. Soon after, you all reached the bus stop and you insisted to wait until she got on her bus before leaving. She thanked you both about three more times before she left, and once the bus disappeared you turned around to the actual direction of your office.

Jay caught up to walk beside you. “You didn’t correct her,” he said, almost sounding like a question.

“Was there a need?” You asked back, looking up at him. The absence of your heels made your height gap bigger.

Jay almost froze from the certainty in your face, flashing back to how the girl called him your husband, and the way you lied saying that you were going to the same direction as her.

The girl thought I was your husband and you didn’t correct her.

“Stop blushing, Park,” you muttered, smiling and picking up your pace to leave him behind you.

---

When it came to the weekends, you either preferred staying at home or not being at home at all for the whole two days, and there was no in between. Since you had scheduled for another monthly video call with Isa and Yoon, you were now snug in your pajamas—a square-neck grey tee and a pair of cat-patterned shorts.

“Hi girls, oh my God,” you adjusted the camera on your computer screen. “Isa, we just started and you’re already munching snacks?”

“It is snack time where I am at, Unnie,” Isa said with her mouth full, chewing on what seemed to be chocolate chip cookies.

“Okay, latest gossip, let’s go,” Yoon said, tying her hair up in a ponytail.

You started the call at sunset and went on to talk for hours until you hear your front door open. You stretched your back and your neck to see who it was and immediately smiled when the figure walked towards you.

“Unnie, what is it?” Yoon asked, noticing that you were distracted.

“Oh my God, is it Jay?” Isa moved her face closer to her screen, trying to get a better look.

Jay was carrying a backpack as he walked towards your desk, taking off his snapback and setting his bag on the floor. You reached out your hand to him, not wanting to leave your chair and he held your hand to kiss it.

“Jay! Jaaaay!” Isa started frantically calling your boyfriend. “We want to see you!”

You winced because Isa basically screamed in your ear, completely forgetting that you were wearing your earphones.

“The girls want to see you,” you said, looking up to Jay, and he melted seeing the way you looked—eyes wide, hair up in a messy bun, cozy in your pajamas. You took off and unplugged your earphones so Jay could hear your friends.

“Hi,” he said, squeezing into the frame as he placed his head beside yours. “Nice to meet you.”

Isa’s eyes disappeared as she smiled so wide, in love at the view. Yoon waved and smiled too before going back to her poker face, aggressively taking screenshots of you and Jay.

“Hurt her and we will hurt you,” Yoon said, holding up a pen like it was a knife.

“Noted,” Jay responded, staying as professional as he could while your two girlfriends just gushed over how cute the two of you look together. After answering a couple of questions, Jay decided to wash up, not forgetting to lean in to kiss your shoulder before leaving.

“I mean if he was that attractive I don’t know how you went for three years not wanting to sleep with him,” Isa said in a hushed voice, afraid that Jay was still near you.

You closed your eyes and shook your head. “Might I remind you that you both have boyfriends?”

“Oh my God,” Yoon stared at her screen in disbelief. “None of us are single. This never happens. This is good, right?”

Yoon and Isa start discussing couple things to do when eventually the three of you reunite, and you turned your head to see if Jay had left the room. You couldn’t find him, so you assumed he was gone.

“Girls, listen,” you said, not lowering your voice down. “I really like him and I want you both to like him too. He’s everything that I need and even if I don’t need anything, I still want him.”

“Wow,” Yoon covered her mouth with one hand. “You never say that about anyone.”

“I know,” Isa chimed in. “Unnie, if he really makes you happy then of course we’re happy for you too.”

“I am,” you paused for a second before continuing. “I always thought that relationships should be about making the same effort. But with him everything feels easy. It’s effortless.”

By this point Isa was almost crying and Yoon looked at you with such an affectionate expression, almost like she was your mother.

Having heard everything from behind your bedroom door, though it was never his intention to eavesdrop, Jay felt like his heart was full, and he stepped into your bathroom with a huge grin on his face.

---

It was your first time in Seattle for an international conference. You were invited as a panel speaker, and normally for work like this you would bring more than one assistant with you. However, Jay took the liberty to not bring Hwiyoung along, stating that he was very capable of handling the schedule alone and that Hwiyoung would probably prefer having the weekend off.

“Did he look at you funny?” You asked as you got off the cab, entering the hotel lobby with Jay by your side.

“I mean, Hwiyoung isn’t the type to ask a lot of questions, so,” Jay shrugged, carrying his duffel bag on his shoulder and your cabin-size suitcase on his hand.

You gave Jay another look and he merely widened his eyes.

“What? If you’re asking me if he knows, I don’t think he does,” Jay lowered his voice as the lobby seemed to have a much quieter ambience compared to the outside. The two of you made your way to the front desk. Jay set your suitcase beside him and greeted the staff. “Hi, we have a reservation under Miss L/N.”

You walked around the lobby, waiting for Jay to get the keys and when he did, he was frowning, holding two keys in one hand.

“You booked two rooms?” He asked you, already gesturing for you to head to the elevators.

“Well, obviously,” you answered. “It’s what I told Hwiyoung to do.”

Jay sighed as he held the elevator door open for you. “You get the suite and I’m in a freaking room for singles.”

“Take the win, Park,” you gently took your suitcase away from his hand. “You deserve a good night’s sleep after working so hard.”

Jay clicked his tongue and the elevator dinged. “Who needs sleep when I could be having sex with you?”

Jay’s question was asked exactly as the door opened, and an old couple was there staring at the two of you. Obviously they overheard what Jay had said, judging from their shocked faces.

Your reflex was to smile sweetly, taking Jay’s arm in your hand and snuggling into him.

“Please excuse my husband,” you said to the old couple as you dragged Jay with you, walking past them and carefully observing them until they disappeared into the elevator.

Once the coast was clear you smacked Jay’s shoulder, and Jay just cackled, his laugh echoing throughout the corridor.

“What do we do with my room?” Jay asked you, holding up his key.

“What do you mean? Go sleep in it,” you unlocked the door to your suite and pushed the door, making your way inside.

Jay cocked his head. “What do you mean go sleep in it?”

You looked at Jay as you dragged your suitcase all the way in, ready to unpack.

“Boss,” Jay called for you.

You just smiled as you neatly unpacked all of your skincare and clothes on to your vanity.

“Y/N~” Jay called you by your name this time, added with a touch of adorable sulkiness.

“Park,” you glared at him. “We’re here for work.”

“I fuck you in your office all the time, what’s the difference?”

You put one hand over your mouth, speechless at how bold Jay has gotten. Taking a deep breath, you walked over to him, hands awkwardly clasped together.

“If you’re here with me, in this room,” you took your blazer off and revealed the almost see-through tank top you were wearing underneath. “I worry we might not be getting enough time to work.”

“Does it matter?” Jay tilted his head, keeping his eyes on yours. “You’re the boss, you know.”

“Which is why you’re supposed to do exactly as I say,” you clapped your hands together, smiling.

“Damn it,” Jay muttered, realizing he had set himself up.

You chuckled, moving in to caress Jay’s face. “Get some rest. I know you didn’t sleep preparing everything for this trip. Once you’re caught up on your hours of sleep, come over.”

It was then that Jay realized you weren’t getting tired of him or trying to get rid of him. He instantly felt bad. Pouting, he took your hand on his face, brought it to his lips and kissed the back of your hand.

“I will back after my beauty sleep!” Jay exclaimed, walking out of your suite.

“Dork,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head as Jay closed the door behind him.

---

Jay knocked on your door literally two minutes after you texted him that you were hungry. You agreed to let him take you to a good place that he knew, because he’s always good at it—trying out new places and making lists of the food that are worth it—and he does it no matter where he goes. So when you found yourselves waiting outside for a table, you really could not complain.

While waiting in line, you two talked about some work issues, as well as other trivial things in your life. Jay asked you about your family’s cats, the strays you adopted and reluctantly left to live with your parents because of how busy you had gotten, and in turn you also asked about his parents.

Jay also brought up how his flat mates wanted to see you again, noting how weird it was. You happily agreed to watch them play basketball the next time the schedule comes up. After a lengthy conversation, you glanced at the watch on your wrist.

“If this is taking too long, we can always go somewhere else?” Jay looked at you, his hands in his pockets as he stands beside you.

You shook your head. “You said this place is good. I don’t mind waiting,” you said as you finished reapplying the tinted lip balm on your lips. As you were about to put it back in your bag, you dropped it.

Jay’s reflexes were usually better than yours. He would pick up drinks that were accidentally knocked over before it spills, or even stop a door from slamming in your face. But this time, you were quicker. You squatted down to reach your lip balm, and in the process, you grab Jay’s thigh for balance. You immediately realize what you’ve done, though, and as Jay froze, you look up at him.

“Oh, my bad,” you muttered, quickly standing up and putting your lip balm back in your purse. Jay’s eyes did not leave your perfectly manicured hands.

“Park, table for two?”

You turned to the young waitress and smiled, immediately following her inside. However, Jay was still standing outside.

“Park!” You called out to him. “Get your ass here, I’m starving.”

Fuck, Jay thought to himself. This is going to be a long night.

---

Jay managed to keep himself composed, and keep it in the whole night, until it was time for you to return to the hotel. The event starts the next day, and you were eager to read up on your materials. Jay had everything prepared for your session as a panel speaker, and he didn’t want to seem like he did not have anything to do, so he invited himself to read with you in your suite.

It had been a while since you both sat in comfortable silence. Choosing to sit on the loveseat that faced the window, your glasses were perched on your nose as you held up your journal, looking at your scribbles and highlights of your speech. Jay was lying down comfortably with his head on your lap, holding up his iPad and going through several documents that the office had sent him.

You started mindlessly stroking Jay’s hair with your fingers, and he groaned as he melted into your touch. You chuckled at his reaction and continued to do so, noticing that he started closing his eyes and lowering his iPad to his stomach.

“God,” he muttered. “Please don’t stop.”

“If this is the reaction I get just by stroking your hair,” you paused, “…what will it be like if I stroke somewhere else?”

“Am I hearing this right?” Jay opened his eyes and looked at you. You looked away because you hated him seeing you from this angle. “Is my boss teasing me right now?”

You shook your head and continued running your fingers through his hair. He sighed and changed his position, lying down sideways with his face buried into your stomach. You found it ticklish, so you adjusted your position, but he kept you in place by placing a firm hand on your arm.

“You make me feel so good,” he mumbled into your belly. The vibrations it sent caused you to giggle and lightly pinch him on the cheek. “I could die like this, happily.”

He then decided to get up, sitting up straight before turning sideways, placing one arm on your side and his face closing in to yours. You kissed him first, knowing well it was what he was going to do, and he smiled into the kiss as he reciprocates all of your advances.

“I still need to read,” you sighed when he pulled away. He paused for several seconds before he stood up.

You were surprised that it was that easy to make him stop. Usually it would take a lot of sulking, pouting, and whining of your name. But then you noticed Jay had his own ideas.

“Alright you can read,” Jay took his t-shirt off, leaving himself in just his black jeans. “I’ll keep you company.”

You let out a sigh as he sat beside you, arms stretched out to your shoulder. Just seconds after you got back to reading, he effortlessly moved to grab you by your waist, sit you back on his lap and made you lean on his chest.

“Jay,” you whined, eyes glued to your journal. “What are you doing?”

“Watching you multitask,” he said, moving your hair to one side and kissing your neck. “Keep going.”

“If I knew being with me would be distracting you so much, I really should have brought Hwiyoung instead.”

Jay’s lips stopped kissing you and froze right at that spot between your neck and shoulder. He then bit you lightly and you winced.

“That will be your loss, to be honest,” Jay whispered in your ear. “We both know I’m very good at my job.”

Jay started massaging your tits, eliciting soft sighs from your lips. He really was making you feel good and as much as your mind wanted to deny it, your body couldn’t. He moved his hands under your shirt and pinched your nipples, gently pulling on them and alternating between squeezing and softly grazing your boobs. You closed your eyes for a second to focus on the warmth of his touch against your skin.

He then moved his left hand downwards, boldly going straight under your panties to run a finger between your folds. You flinched a little, containing your moan as you can feel the movements of his hand making you wetter. If you weren’t turned on before, you definitely are now. Jay didn’t stop kissing your shoulder, but now he brought his other hand to your chin to tilt your head sideways and kiss your lips.

“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered, nibbling on your bottom lip. You whimpered and nodded, and Jay swiftly took your journal out of your hand, setting it aside.

He continued playing with your dripping cunt, now wet enough for him to slide his fingers into. You leaned your head back on his shoulder, spreading your legs wider and letting him hold them open. At first he put in one finger as he squeezed your thigh, caressing you and whispering sweet nothings right in your ear. You squirmed and he inserted another finger, kissing your cheek and calling you beautiful. You brought one hand up to his head, locking your fingers in his hair because you knew how much he loved it, and in response he added in a third finger.

It was impressive, and almost admirable, how easy it was for Jay to turn you into putty. You didn’t mind submitting to him, knowing well that he was always going to take extreme care of you. So when he started moving his fingers faster, thrusting them in and out of you, you let him know how good he was doing by making melodic moans.

Feeling the familiar knot in your stomach, you grab his wrist, noticing how it flexed as he continues to finger you. You went on to squirm and whimper, letting him know that you were as close as you could be. You then came on his hand, drenching it and making him groan as he gently pulled away, a string of your wetness still connecting his fingers and your cunt.

As you were still catching your breath, Jay carefully moved his hands towards your lips.

“Taste that for me, please?”

You obliged again, putting the same fingers he had in your cunt just seconds earlier in your mouth. He kept it there firmly, letting you softly suck your own juice clean. His eyes rolled back seeing you like this and he groaned, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

You could feel his hard on against your ass and you were determined to make him feel as good as you did. You stood up, undressing completely, having him watch you the whole time as he swallowed, wetting his throat. Then, you kneel before him, helping him take his jeans off so he can be naked too. Once he was, you rested your cheek on his thigh, gently stroking his rock-hard dick while he caressed your face, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You move to straddle him, and he instinctively placed both his hands on your waist. He was about to reach into the back pocket of his jeans to get the condom he conveniently stored there, which you were aware of, and you stopped him. Jay tilted his head as he looked at you in question.

“I want to feel you,” you purred, cupping his face with one hand. He let you devour his lips as you held his dick against your folds, slowly sinking down on him. He lets out a shaky breath and you kept your lips connected, wanting to be aware of everything that he was feeling for you, swallowing his grunts and gasps.

He flexed his thighs as you started grinding on him, and his grip on your waist tightened. Your movements were slow and sensual, and as his mouth was agape from how blessed he was feeling, you moved your lips to kiss him around his face, making sure not to leave any surface unattended. You pressed your tits to his chest and he moved down from your lips to give them attention.

Sucking and nibbling on your boobs, you bury your hands in his head again, stroking his hair in a way that mimics his gentle ministrations of his tongue on you, all while your hips move in unison. You didn’t bother picking up the pace because this was just how you liked it. Jay wasn’t in a rush either, so he let you ride him for as long as you wanted, not forgetting to run his hands around every curve of your body.

“I’m close,” Jay muttered under his breath, feeling like he should let you know. He was about to pull out when you stopped him, shaking your head as you look into his eyes.

“Cum inside me.”

Jay had always been careful and considerate, and you were pretty strict with your rules ever since the two of you started fucking each other. Jay knew you trust him with your work life, and he was happy to carry the burden with him, but seeing how now, you’re showing how you really trust him with everything else made his eyes soften.

He nodded once and you pulled him into a kiss. It only took him two more strokes to finally come, and your walls clenched around him, milking his cock as you feel the warmth fill you inside. You were breathing heavily, your forehead pressed against his as you processed the whole feeling. Jay brought his hand up to stroke your cheek, kissing your chin and letting you sit on him for a moment.

He didn’t know exactly when he started to feel so sure about you. Your relationship accelerated way too fast physically, so as he cruised through it he took the time to really understand the emotions he was experiencing around you. Your carefree but also careful demeanor made him feel at ease, and one day he just happened to accept the fact that he was in love with you. He made it a mission to show it to you in every possible way.

“I love you.”

Jay’s train of thoughts were put to a halt as he heard the three words leave your mouth. His eyes searched for yours and when they were locked, he couldn’t say anything back.

You chuckled at the sheer shock on his face. You licked your lips and brushed his hair back, your thumb grazing over his cheek.

“I love you, Jay,” you restated. “You didn’t hear me wrong.”

“I love you too,” Jay finally replied. “Fuck, I really do. I fucking love you.”

You giggled when he leaned in to brush his nose against yours before kissing your lips softly. Both your lips were swollen and red but you couldn’t think of doing anything better.

“I love you more,” you challenged him, melting in his arms as he hugged you tight, all while he was still inside of you.

Jay shook his head quickly, pulling back to look at your face again. “I loved you first.”

You sighed in defeat, not wanting to continue the banter. You eventually stretched your legs to hop off of him, as gentle as possible, and when you did you swore you could see Jay blush as he saw drips of his cum travel down your thigh.

“Do you think I should wear the crimson red suit or beige look tomorrow?” You asked, already making your way to the bathroom.

If he was honest, his heart was still beating so fast it could explode, and he was still processing the fact that you both had just confirmed your strong feelings for each other. He started thinking about how things were going to be in the near future—how to tell the whole office, how to introduce you to his parents, how to, if you’re up for it, propose to you. But he was able to answer you within seconds, not wanting to make you wait or repeat yourself.

“Crimson red,” he answered. The color of your lipstick. The color of his chin after you first made out with him in your office. The color of his intense feelings for you.

-END-

SECRETARY!JAY will return…

read the next part: hasta los dientes

511 notes · View notes

callsign-squints · 2 years

Text

The moments in time that led me to you ~ Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia

Summary: The moments in time leading up to the arrival of someone very special.

Pairing: Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia x fem!reader

Warnings: THIS IS A LONG ONE, but other than that, just fluffy :)

Notes: This is technically a part 2 to “Since when?”, so you might wanna read that before this one. I was also thinking of doing in between moments with Mickey and the reader pertaining to this part and the one before. You’ll see later on what I mean but for now, enjoy :)

———————————————————————

Mickey was pretty content at this point in his life. Things at Top Gun were going pretty good, there was never a dull moment when back seating for Payback. He no longer had to keep you a secret anymore from his friends, which was a plus. His friends became your friends and he couldn’t have been happier. Whenever everyone had the time, they would all head over to the Garcia residence for dinner. According to Payback, Y/n made some of the best home cooked meals he ever had in a long time. Mickey knew Payback missed being back home, so for his best friend to find comfort at his home, with the food you made, it filled him with a sense of pride.

All of his friends loved your cooking and adored you, which was no surprise to him. You had met them months ago and they all grew to love your personality. You were a natural people person, no matter how many times you’ve told him otherwise. Your smile drew people in and Mickey could only hope that your son would have the same.

Speaking of your son, he had been a little shit for the past couple of days. Your words, not Mickey’s. You were on maternity leave from your job as a nurse at the local hospital and had been at home since then. While Mickey couldn’t always be at home with you, he always tried to do everything that he could for you when he was home. Whether that be giving you back rubs when your back was killing you. Cooking food when your ankles felt like they were going to fall off. Even talking to the baby late at night when you complained that your little boy was moving too much for you to get any sleep, and Mickey knew he had to be up in a couple hours. He didn’t care though. The more comfortable he could make you while your due date was quickly approaching, made it all worth it.

Tonight, you had fallen asleep before Mickey did and he automatically pulled you to his chest when he did end up going to bed. He didn’t know what time it was but he felt himself waking up to the empty feeling in his arms. Mickey rubbed the sleep from his eyes and once he was awake to a certain extent, he saw you leaning over the edge of the bed, your back towards him.

“Hey baby, you okay?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine. I think it might just be Braxton Hicks.”

Mickey knew she had been having Braxton Hicks since this morning but when he asked Y/n if she wanted to go to the hospital, she declined and said that there was nothing they could do for her. Trusting her instincts, he let it go.

“You want me to rub your back a bit? Do you think that will help?”

“I don’t know, maybe? I think I’m just going to walk around for a bit. It usually eases the tension in my legs.”

Upon hearing this, Mickey got up from his side of the bed to go to yours, in order to help you up. Y/n held onto his arms for a bit once she was on her feet.

“I’m going to get you some water and your heating pad. I read somewhere in those baby books that those things could help. Are you going to be okay by yourself?”

“Yes Mickey, I’ll be perfectly fine. I know I’m pregnant but I’m not completely incapacitated. Also, you actually read the books?”

“Well yeah, the more you know. Didn’t you?”

“I’ll be honest, I fell asleep while reading one of the baby books.”

Smiling to himself, Mickey didn’t expect anything less from Y/n. He knew that the baby was taking a lot of energy from her and naps had become her best friend.

“It’s okay, mi amor, I’ve read enough for the both of us. I’ll be back, okay? Yell if you need me.”

Mickey leaned down to kiss Y/n’s forehead, one hand cupping the back of her head, while the other stayed on her belly. He then walked out the bedroom door to find the items he needed. He checked the clock on the wall on his way out, 3:45 am.

While retrieving the water from the kitchen, Mickey was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly didn’t hear Y/n calling for him. Forgetting the water, he raced back to their bedroom to find his wife soaked from the waist down.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“No Mickey, I dropped a water balloon on the floor. Yes, my water just broke, dummy.”

Mickey would’ve had a comeback to that but he was paralyzed. He knew you were freaking out a bit and probably didn’t mean anything by it, but it still took him a second to respond.

“Are you in any pain right now? Is it still Braxton Hicks?”

“I thought what I was feeling earlier was Braxton Hicks but I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Okay baby, I think it’s time we take you to the hospital. Just to be sure.”

Mickey watched as his wife made her way to the bed. She sat there and didn’t say anything for a bit. He walked over to her and sat by her, hoping she would talk to him.

“Hey, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?”

Y/n took a big breath before looking at Mickey, with glassy eyes.

“Is this it? Like is this when we fully become parents? Are you ready? I don’t know if I’m ready! What if the kid doesn’t like me and he grows to hate me later in the future?”

“Hey hey hey! Stop that!” Mickey grabbed onto the sides of her face. “Everything will be okay, baby, I promise. No parent is perfect but we’re going to try for our little boy. You’ll be a wonderful mama. You’re worrying about things you don’t need to be thinking about right now. For now, let’s get you changed, get the baby bag, and head to the hospital, okay?”

After a nod from Y/n, Mickey gave her a sweet kiss on the lips and went to go find her a change of clothes and get the baby bag. Once everything was all set, they made their way to the car and drove 15 minutes to the hospital.

——————————————

It was 6:05 am and things were progressing slowly. Y/n and Mickey were taken to the maternity ward to get settled in. Y/n started to realize that these were actual contractions and not Braxton Hicks, much to her dismay. Mickey ended up timing them once they were situated at the hospital and they were every 12 minutes. She was only dilated to a two so now it was just a waiting game.

Y/n eventually fell back asleep after some convincing from her husband and has been asleep for the past hour. Mickey pulled a chair up to her bedside and kept an eye on the contraction and heart rate monitor. He texted Payback as soon as y’all arrived at the hospital and he wished you nothing but the best.

Eventually Mickey started dozing off himself until he felt the grip you had on his hand, tighten. He looked over and saw that you were going through another contraction on the monitor. Your eyes were shut tightly and your face was pulled into a grimace. It broke his heart to see you in any pain, especially pain he knew he couldn’t help you with.

“Hey baby, you’re okay. Just breathe through it, yeah? Just gotta breathe baby.”

Y/n’s grip didn’t subside until a few seconds later, where she ended up falling asleep again afterwards. Mickey ran a hand over your head and kept stroking it till your breathing evened out.

———————————————

Y/n has been in labor for about six and half hours now and she was barely dilated to a four. It was progress but it was getting to be too long of a wait for her. Mickey, ever the doting and loving husband, was doing everything he could to keep her as comfortable as possible.

Her contractions were now nine minutes apart and her heart rate, along with their little boy’s, was strong as ever. Mickey looked over at the time again, 9:39 am. You had decided to change positions a few minutes ago, to relieve some pressure from your lower back, and so far it seemed like it was working. Mickey massaged your lower back for you while you were leaning over the bed, with you leaning on your forearms and feet flat on the floor. Your whine of pain made his heart clench and he tried to soothe it as best as he could.

“There we go hermosa, breathe through it. That’s it baby. You got this. Keep breathing for me.”

Mickey continued checking the contraction monitor, watching it ease up. After the contraction passed, Y/n leaned back up, turning around, and rested her head on Mickey’s shoulder.

“Thank you honey. I don’t know if I could be doing this without you. I know I’ve been a bitch and a baby at times, stupid hormones, but I really do appreciate you.”

Mickey’s heart swelled. Yes, at times you would say something rude to him but he knew that you were in pain and your emotions are out of wack. You were quite literally one of the strongest women he knows and for that he couldn’t be more proud of you.

Instead of trying to tell you how he feels about you in this moment, he took your hand and brought you to the center of your hospital room. Y/n looked at him confused until he pulled his phone out and hit shuffle on the playlist he made for you. He then grabs your hands and rests them over his shoulders, while he wraps his around your waist.

He starts to gently sway you to the soft tune of Vienna by Billy Joel. Your head rests on his chest, right above his heart. His heartbeat calming you down from the episode of pain you went through a few minutes ago. Mickey looks down at your content form and runs a hand through your hair.

“Slow down, you're doin' fine. You can't be everything you wanna be before your time. Although it's so romantic, on the borderline tonight, tonight.” Mickey sings gently into your ear while continuing to sway you from side to side.

With the both of them so entranced in the moment, neither of them hear the knock on the door until the person on the other side announces themselves. Mickey looks up to see Payback, followed by Rooster and Phoenix, by the door.

“While this is cute and all, would Y/n be up for some visitors?” Payback asked carefully.

Mickey looked down at Y/n and saw her already looking at him. She gives him a small nod and turns in his embrace.

“Well look at you, little mama, even in your hospital gown and fuzzy socks, you continue to glow.” Rooster compliments once he’s let into the room. Mickey glared at Bradley but it was only in jest. Besides Payback, he knew you were close to Phoenix and Rooster, and that within itself made him happy. He trusted them with you, no doubt about it.

“I’m doing the best with what I’ve got.” Y/n smiles at Rooster, as she leans into Mickey.

“So how are things going? When are we going to meet baby Garcia?” Phoenix asks with a smile, filled with excitement.

“Slowly. I’m only dilated to a four at the moment and for being in labor for almost seven hours, it really sucks.”

Payback, Rooster, and Phoenix gave all gave you sympathetic smiles. While the boys knew nothing of child birth, they knew that you were in a great deal of pain.

“But that isn’t a bad thing! The doctor said that sometimes the first baby takes their time. Our little boy just isn’t ready to leave his mama.” Mickey tried to reassure you. He was about to talk again when his phone started to ring. It was his mom, probably calling to check in with him about how you were doing. Which reminded him, he should probably call or text your parents while he was at it.

He directs his attention to you, “Hey, my moms calling, probably wanting updates. I’m gonna step out for a bit, okay? I’ll call your mom after to get her up to speed. If you need me, get one of these knuckleheads, or Phoenix, to come get me.”

Payback and Rooster have him looks of offense while Phoenix smiles at them. Y/n nodded her head and gave him a kiss on his cheek, whispering an “I love you” in his ear. He smiles and repeats it back. Before he leaves, he directed his attention to his three friends.

“Watch her for me, will you?” His friends all shake their heads in agreement as he steps outside for the next ten minutes.

When Mickey finally gets off the phone with your parents, he makes is way back into the room. Upon entering, he wasn’t expecting to see you in Phoenix’s arms, as she sways you to the tune of “Hey Jude”, that was playing from Roosters phone. Speaking of Rooster, him and Payback are leaning against each other while singing along to the song.

Mickey looks at them all in confusion and makes eye contact with Phoenix. She smiles at the other two boys and continues to sway you, “She was having a contraction and we figured since you were doing this before we came in, this would probably help.”

His face lights up in a smile as he continues watching his friends attempt at helping ease your contractions away. You seemed pretty content in Natasha’s arms and that was all he could ask for.

—————————————————

The last time the doctor checked in on Y/n, she was dilated to a six, but that was three hours ago. Nothing Y/n and Mickey tried had felt like it was helping speed up the process at all. He offered to find the doctor to issue her an epidural but she refused and called him a bastard for that idea. The doctor constantly reassured Y/n that it was going to take some time but things were progressing as they should. It was 12:34 pm; Y/n’s getting impatient.

Mickey just hated seeing you in pain. You were taking it like a champ, with the contractions now being closer together, and becoming increasingly more painful. The sight of you crying ripped his heart in two and he wished he could take your pain away. He knew you were getting tired and as much as you tried to sleep, the contractions weren’t letting you.

“Mickey, I don’t know how much longer I can do this. It hurts so bad.”

“I know baby, but you’re doing so good! We just have to wait a little bit longer till we can see our boy. Just keep squeezing my hand.”

Over the next hour or so, Mickey and Y/n took a walk around the hospital floor, hoping it would help. Once they got back to the room, Y/n was more tired than when she started the walk and attempted to get more sleep. Mickey turned the lights down in the room and scooted on the bed with you, watching the monitors.

He became lost in thought as time progressed. He was remembering everything from this morning. How strong you were through this entire process. He could never fathom the pain and strength it took you to bring another life into this world. He remembered when y’all’s friends came to visit you. All the laughs and contractions along the way were worth it. He thinks back to you squeezing the shit out of Hangman’s hand when he said that contractions couldn’t have been that painful, he was wrong. He remembered Rooster performing an acapella version of “Great Balls of Fire”, in order to make you smile through the pain.

His train of thought was disrupted when he felt you shaking his arm, frantically.

“Honey, go get the doctor!”

“What’s going on? Does everything feel okay?”

“I think your son is ready to make his grand entrance,” Y/n says while wincing at the pressure she was feeling, “Fucking finally!”

Mickey wasted no time in taking off out of the room to find a nurse. His heart beating out of his chest but managing to keep it together for you.

———————————————

An hour had passed and Y/n’s pained screams filled the room. The doctor had confirmed that she was in fact dilated to a ten, and that it was safe to push. Mickey was positioned behind her, her body between his legs and her back leaning against his chest. He whispered sweet words of encouragement in her ears while wiping the sweat that poured down her face. Mickey thought she still looked beautiful, even with a red face and drenched hair.

“Y/n, I’m really going to need you to bare down and push on your next contraction. Can you do that for me?” Dr. Buckley asked from the end of the bed.

Y/n was tired, Mickey felt the exhaustion in her body, “No no no, I can’t do it anymore! It hurts too much, I can’t do it!”

“C’mon baby, you can do this. We’re so close to seeing our little boy! Just push on your next contraction, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“We’re not having another kid, I swear to God Mickey, I’ll murder you!”

He laughed at her response and kissed her temple.

Y/n felt a contraction coming back and took a deep breath as she bared down and pushed with everything she had in her.

“That’s it baby, good job. Keep pushing mi amor, you got this!”

She felt the pressure of the baby’s head come out and let out a breath.

“Okay, I need you to give me another big push. The heads out honey, now this is the tough part and once you push, it’ll be over soon.”

Dr. Buckley’s encouragement was pissing Y/n off but she knew the doctor was right. She was just so tired from today and all the exertion this was putting on her body.

“You hear that, baby? You’re almost done! I love you so so much, okay? Now give me another big push.”

She began pushing again, everything around her was a blur, other than one of Mickey’s hands caressing her hair while the other holds her hand. She let out another pained scream as the pressure started increasing more and more.

“That’s it baby, keep pushing! That’s my girl, c’mon baby, keep pushing!”

Y/n felt the shoulders make their way out and her body give out half way through. She laid back against Mickey’s chest, trying to catch her breath.

“Last one Y/n, I promise! You gotta take a big breath and push as hard as you can.”

She looked up at Mickey’s eyes and they were staring down at her. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead and leaned his on hers, “One more push, mi amor, that’s all you have to do now. One more big, big push for me? I know you can do it.”

With his encouragement, she sat up and pushed with everything she had in her. Suddenly, she felt a release and completely collapsed onto Mickey.

A shrill cry filled the air as their little boy was placed on her chest. Mickey looked at the time, it was 3:22 pm.

“Congrats mama! You’ve got a healthy baby boy!”

Y/n looked down at her son and couldn’t hold back the tears that were present in her eyes. God, he was so beautiful. Mickey was no better, with his own tears streaming down his face as he now holds the two loves of his life. He strokes your hair and presses multiple kisses to your sweaty hairline but he couldn’t have cared less.

“I’m so so proud of you baby! You did so good!Just look at his sweet face!”

After the nurses took the baby boy to get cleaned up, he was placed right in his fathers arms. The room was filled with a calming aura and Mickey couldn’t help but stare at his sons face.

He was a wonderful mix of you and him but he knew that his son would grow up to look like Mickey’s twin. He knew it within his heart. Mickey had his shirt off, skin-to-skin being one of his favorite things now, as he laid in the hospital bed with you. Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss on his sons forehead. He looked to his side and saw that you were passed out. A well deserved nap, Mickey thought. You had that post birth glow about you and Mickey felt like he was falling in love with you all over again. Your strength and determination never failed to surprise him. That’s one of the many reasons why he loved you so much.

Mickey leaned back on the bed and closed his eyes for a second. He wasn’t tired, not when he had his new born son in his arms. He was content. His two loves remained asleep and he continued to gaze at them with an unwavering expression of adoration.

This was his family now and he couldn’t be more happy.

#top gun imagine #top gun maverick x reader #mickey fanboy garcia imagine #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #danny ramirez x reader #mickey fanboy garcia #top gun x reader #danny ramirez imagine

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sherbet-shivers · 7 days

Text

A Minor Malfunction Part 1/3

We need to ignore that this is 6 years late ashgdahls (I only just got to play D/etroit: B/ecome H/uman and my love for sweet baby boy Co/nnor is alive)! Also figured snz is still snz, so even if you don’t care for the fandom you might enjoy the main course anyway lol

**Please do not share to non-kink snz blogs — no need to drag vanillas into this! This is also my first time posting to tumblr at all, so formatting tips are always welcome <3**

Blurb: Connor suffers a little virus (Part 2 here and Part 3 here)

Characters: Co/nnor R/K800 (-centric because he’s babygirl) and H/ank A/nderson

Length: 4k+ words

TW: cursing, minor robot discrimination; no spoilers

“You’re quiet tonight, Connor,” Hank observes between sips of his drink. His name triggers the Android to lift his head and meet his partner’s gaze, which studies him conspicuously.

Connor smiles a bit stiffly. “You usually prefer me quiet, Lieutenant.”

His investigative partner groans. “Yeah, when you’re barking up my ass,” he scoffs, though his voice lacks any hints of malice. The two had been working a handful of Deviant cases together and Hank’s introductory disdain had subtly been reduced to something warmer. Teasing had become their shared language, which was a preferred change of pace from where they’d started; not to mention a great way to lighten the mood between all the rumors of homicide and an Android uprising. Still, in spite of their growing closeness, Connor doubted Hank considered him a true partner, let alone a friend, but at least the two were no longer arguing like they had been a few weeks prior.

“So,” Hank starts again, “what’s going on with you?”

Connor makes a face, even tilting his head a bit before glimpsing side to side. “Nothing, as we’re currently idle in a bar.”

“No shit, smartass. I mean what’s going on, as in why are you acting all funny?”

“Funny?” Connor sifts through his memory, trying to recall a recent instance in which he’d been humorous by Hank’s standards. To no one’s surprise, he comes up empty. “I don’t recall acting funny. Why? Do you want to hear a joke?”

“Wha-? No! Christ, nevermind; just forget I said anything you weirdo,” Hank dismisses.

Connor didn’t mind the rejection (nothing was personal to machines), but he was programmed to follow orders; thus, he re-quiets, following Hank’s lead.

However, just because he’s silent, doesn’t mean he’s inactive. An Android’s life was rarely dull given there was a full 24 hours in day to take advantage of. As much as Hank said he loved naps, Connor couldn’t imagine wasting precious work hours to sleep.

Even now they were technically “freed” of their investigative duties, but Connor still had plenty of personal maintenance to attend to. It was the daily obligation of an RX800 model like himself (all AI models really), and so he promptly runs a survey of his internal diagnostics. Aside from making his masters happy, it was an Android’s priority to ensure that everything about them is up to date and code — ranging from their adaptive software to the state of their hard drive.

At the same time, he decides to trace through the entirety of his memories, still determined to figure out what Hank meant when he said “acting funny”. Funny…the word repeats in Connor’s head. Human emotions and terms were somewhat difficult to diagnose on his own, though Hank’s recent company had introduced Connor to a wide collection of colorful language. So many terms denoted so many different meanings, many of which were subjective and therefore wildly confusing to a purely calculative mind. So when Hank said Connor was “acting funny”, what exactly did that mean? His type of humor was unique (and apt to change given his BAC), so maybe what he found funny wasn’t what Connor had originally filtered for. Or maybe…the term meant something entirely different altogether? But, then what did that mean? Questions like these are what made humans so fascinating and troubling according to Connor’s programming. He could run himself in circles for hours asking the same questions, constantly seeking meaning, searching for answers, decoding Hank’s unusual phrases-

Suddenly, an alarm goes off in Connor’s system, alerting him to some kind of error in his software. It’s honestly startling, catching the Android surprisingly off-guard for once. This…hadn’t ever happened before; at least, not while he was without a suitable guardian or engineer nearby. Thankfully he’s already wired to know exactly how to respond, and thus promptly performs a system-wide scan to diagnose the error in question. Within seconds, his answer is received, though to his misfortune, it’s little more conclusive.

Code: C5Y0091-24BC. Classification: Unauthorized Bio-Component Breach By Unknown Digital Error. Software Virus Suspected. Result: Bio-Component Defects And Malfunction. CyberLife has been automatically contacted. Expect an update within 24 hours.

A single blink has Connor back in reality, surrounded by the musky odors characteristic of the many bars he and Hank frequently hopped. Hank is muttering something about the game with Jimmy’s bartender, but Connor hardly hears them.

Virus? Malfunction? How could that be possible? Connor had experienced software issues in the past, but many were easily patched or otherwise resolved by his masters, sometimes within seconds! So this was…unusual to say the least. He’d been warned of course to stay vigilant against hackers, obvious glitches, chain mail, pirated sites, FaceBook and other shady threats — it’s why he ran diagnostics multiple times a day. So how could this have happened? How could he have been so negligent to have missed something?

At least CyberLife had been notified, which meant he’d only have to wait a few hours for his orders on how to proceed; but until then, what was he expected to do? He was hesitant to trust himself, especially after being branded by his own system as potentially defective.

Malfunction. The word echoes through his system and encourages Connor to continue searching his recent stored memories. He weaves through the past effortlessly in search of anything that could stand out or explain his current predicament…and that’s when he’s reminded of what Hank said not more than two minutes ago. Funny. Had he really slipped up so poorly even he hadn’t noticed something but Hank did? What did it mean if a trained AI couldn’t catch a mistake while a human so easily could?

Connor chooses not to answer that question as he comes across a particular gap in his memory — one he hadn’t noticed until now. It was short — a blackout lasting no more than four seconds — but that may as well have been an eternity if it meant there was an absence of crucial information. Rewinding prior to the lull in time, Connor revisits a particular scene during he and Hank’s investigation earlier that same day.

The two of them had been assigned to a Deviant case involving an unnamed MJ100. The dog sitter had been out walking two corgis, both belonging to its owner when it was confronted by a group of six human protesters. After being cornered, the Android was jumped, pushed to the ground, and kicked repeatedly, enduring damage to its left ocular component and minor denting targeting its knee attachment on the same side. Its gait was consequently deemed unstable as it tried to pick itself up. As it could not recalculate its balance, it was knocked down a second time; and on its third attempt, the Android had defied its programming and resorted to fighting off its aggressors using heavy handed tactics and a nearby blunt object (presumably one of the protester’s sign boards). It then attempted to flee the scene but made it less than a block away before being tackled and deactivated by a local officer.

Weirdly enough, the next few details are a bit scrambled within Connor’s hard drive. All that is clear is that while investigating the Android’s body and calculating the damage, Connor’s vision goes dark — particularly after coming into direct contact with its bio components. It’s a startling discovery, and his vision only seems to return a few seconds later after Hank snaps at him to answer a question he’d claimed to have repeated once before.

Following that instance, minor things that should’ve caught Connor’s attention had gone completely unnoticed. His temperatures were running high and low interchangeably by several degrees, his system wasn’t adequately flushing out debris causing congestion within his gears, and even his processing speed — which usually ran above peak performance — was barely keeping up with that of a model two series back.

How had he missed all that? Surely he would’ve recalled Hank repeating himself, if not the obvious lull in time and all the issues impairing his components. Why couldn’t he put together a simple sequence of events? Just how damaging was this virus? What happened to him within that lost period?

“Hey!”

Connor glimpses at Hank, who is snapping in his line of sight. The old detective snorts once he realizes Connor has come to.

“Jesus, I guess even robots can be space cadets now, huh?” He muses as he slaps a wadded up stack of bills onto the counter and slides them over to the standing bartender. “I’m heading home to feed my dog. You’d better go back to the station and recharge yourself, Blinky. That fucking disc in your temple is going crazy.”

Without any further pleasantries, Hank takes off towards the door and exits the bar through a cloud of cigarette smoke. Connor meant to pay for his drinks and a ride home, but he supposed that’d have to wait until tomorrow. For now, it was probably best he follow his partner’s commands. After all, he was made to heed directions, and eager to run another diagnostic scan undisturbed.

Going in the opposite direction of his partner, Connor starts his way back to the police station downtown, occupying his walk by fumbling with the trademark silver coin he carries in his pocket. Hopefully all he needed for a fresh start was an overnight rebooting.

…

Connor Model Prototype RX800 — Serial Number: 313 248 317. Functionality: Below Average. Code: C5Y0091-24BC. Classification: Unauthorized Bio-Component Breach By Digital Error 2B9YD77158G. Software Virus Confirmed. Result: Bio-Component Defects And Malfunction. Self-Repairs Update Initialized. Time Remaining: 62 Hours, 58 Minutes, And 23 Seconds. System performance is being automatically monitored by and reported to CyberLife HQ.

The alert rouses him from his sleep mode. It wasn’t the best news to start the day with, but then again, neither was this creeping sensation bothering his nose and tickling his chest. He attempts another scan to source out the cause, but is immediately interrupted by a sudden, involuntary gasp. The reaction quickly proves out of his control; because in spite of trying to fight and diagnose it, his efforts prove futile as his chest inflates, mouth parts, and he’s bent at the waist with an unexpected-

“Ah’HTSHh’iew!” And another? “Iihy’YDTZSH’shH! Hh-?!” And another?? “hK’SCH’uh!”

He shakes his head and sniffles instinctively, more than a little surprised and uneasy following such an aggressive series of outbursts. He didn’t like that one bit, and could only assume that a reflex like that attested to the true extent of his malfunction. Not only that, but the annoying fluttering feeling in his face hadn’t been remotely relieved; if anything, it’d been stirred and hurled through his system like a shock of irritating static. He wasn’t familiar with automatic overrides to his manual settings, and didn’t wish to experience that again if he could help it.

Straightening his back, he ignores the blank gazes from his fellow policing Androids, who are similarly parked in their charging stations in rows running to his left and right.

“Excuse me,” Connor murmurs, not that any of his companions could feel offended by his unusual behavior. He’d only said it out of sheer obligation, though perhaps somewhere deep in his system he was also preventing being viewed as a threat…as unfortunately impaired.

A malfunction.

For the sake of preserving his public image, he would commit himself to being as discreet as possible. He wasn’t a malfunction, and he would set himself to prove it. He just had to get through the next two days without drawing unwanted attention or affording any more hiccups. He could do that.

Right?

…

For the first time since his creation and introduction to the public eye, Connor was experiencing…doubts. The virus he’d contracted was proving to be more difficult to supersede the more hours that went on. The rate of his degradation was…less than optimal, to say the least. For one, his bio-components (as predicted) were suffering unfamiliar glitches all over. His movements were sluggish despite a full night’s charge, and his data processing was running at a measly 73% speed — even slower than last night. His internal temperatures were rising and falling like a seesaw; the balance constantly tipped between too hot and too cold. It was starting to affect his bio regulators, which couldn’t decide if he needed to start letting off steam or shiver through the morning. Thankfully, these ailments weren’t too difficult to hide so long as he was diligent in monitoring them and constantly tracking their progression. As soon as something was apt to change, he was quick to process a solution in order to appear as normal and high functioning as possible.

What he couldn’t predict nor control was the sudden influx of outbursts.

It’d only been a handful of hours since he “woke”, and even less time since the station opened up to its human staff; and already, Connor was slipping up here and there. As an Android, people paid him little attention (which actually worked in his favor), but that didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned over being reported by a fellow Android or a stray, observant human. After all, he’d discovered that no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn’t do much to prevent-

“Iiy’aASCH’hiEW!”

That. He despised the act itself, and grew frustrated every time it took him by surprise. Why was it so difficult to challenge or prepare for? If he had just a little more notice, he could stop himself or at least attempt to override its command. However, every time he tried, he just couldn’t. He was being outplayed by an infraction, a glitch — a minor one at that! — and that only added to the frustration gnawing at his senses.

As if the lack of control alone wasn’t bad enough, he was also starting to tire of the persistent, crawling itch tracing his nose and teasing at the inner cavity. It was terribly irritating, prompting him to pinch and rub at his face, or sweep a knuckle under the sensitive (and offending) appendage. But doing so often only relit the flame, like a match reigniting a fire so close to dying, but reluctant to fade out. Even now, just as he earns some relief thanks to a series of sniffling and scrubbing, he feels that ember kicking up again; tickling and teasing against his inner sinuses until he’s forced to-

“eE’SHYIU’Uui! ‘dSHH!…ha’hh-! uH’-!”

The final one teases him, so much so he isn’t even certain it’s the last one. He’s aware he must look ridiculous — an Android caught in a hysteric limbo, interrupted by a dysfunction that it’d never succumb to before, let alone conceived. He tries desperately to fight it — to prove he can use sheer logic to overcome his own reflex, but the itch is just too overwhelming, causing his eyes to squint and lips to quiver. So after a few good seconds of rebelling against the inevitable, he hastily pardons himself to the station’s supply closet, locks the door behind him, and surrenders to his system.

In his clumsy haste however, he had managed to knock over a few spare broomsticks, and even rattled a small tower of cardboard boxes. His vision was immediately clouded by a puff of gray, but he didn’t have much time to observe or clean up the mess since he was already too busy-

“ae’ESHHEW’ww! Aa’KSCH’yIEW! T’tdSSH’yiEW!”

Was it getting worse?! Between hitching breaths Connor struggles to perform another scan. He interrupts himself twice, but ultimately the result comes back, reading out in bold text: Environmental Irritant Level: High. Bio-Receptor Reactivity: High. System Override: Automatic. Self-Repairs Update Ongoing. Time Remaining: 57 Hours, 22 Minutes, And 19 Seconds. System performance is being automatically monitored by and reported to CyberLife H-

“HHh’ITSH’hUuii! Ahh…h’ah-! H’-! H’PTzsSH’IEWw!”

They were stumbling out of him in pairs and triples now, every fittish burst triggering glitches in his sight and sending shivers down his core. He tries to keep them quiet by smothering his nose into his palm, but air manages to slip out anyway, making hisses of noise he’s starting to find…embarrassing? Perhaps shameful was a more accurate term, on second thought.

Still caught between sneezing or not sneezing, he squints through bubbling gasps and hones in on his immediate area. His specs focus in on the particles of dust scattered around him; no doubt disturbed by his sudden entrance. His system classifies the debris as a common irritant. Ah. So that’s what was setting him off worse than before.

He shakes his head and scrubs at his nose with a free knuckle. Here he thought he’d finally found some reprieve only to cause himself another problem. He should’ve expected this or pre-calculated the chances of this happening, but of course little was working in his favor with a bugged out tactical unit.

“Hih’PTSHH’ieew! Ah’haaH-…!”

Seriously? How long did this usually last?

“h’H-…! Nnng…oH’H-!…oh…”

Connor lets out an artificial sigh, his nose twitching aggressively and mouth uncurling from a snarl. The itch hasn’t quite dissipated, but at least the urge to sneeze has retreated for the time being. As he scratches at his face and sniffs testily, he makes a mental note-to-self to avoid any more stale or dirty areas over the next two days.

He had to get out of here, before someone noticed he went missing or worse, caught him in the act of hiding. Reluctant to get dragged into another fit but eager to escape, he raises his arm and buries his nose against his sleeve — a courtesy he believes humans are commonly accustomed to when they suffer similar ailments. He then tends to the supplies around him, returning them to their exact state before he’d made a wreck of things. Once adequately tidied (both he and the closet space), Connor tentatively unlocks the closet and exits the shroud of its privacy.

The immediate change in lighting is too fast for his eyes to process, causing a temporary blindness that stings his circuits and scatters pixels across his vision. He grimaces unconsciously as he heads towards his desk, and to his surprise, the commanding officer is waiting for him when he approaches.

“There you are RX800. We’ve got a new report about a Deviant downtown. I want you to pull Hank from wherever the fuck he is and go investigate.”

The chief slips a manilla folder into Connor’s hands then readjusts the belt around his gut. Connor busies himself with downloading the walls of text in his hands, then blinks up at his boss with an automated smile.

“Of course, Chief Fowler. I’ll be sure to retrieve Mr. Anderson, and we will investigate the scene immediately.”

His response is somewhat obvious, but still, the chief approves of his confirmation, nodding as he starts to brush past the bot. Connor glimpses down at the data in his hands again, when suddenly, his captain pauses and waves for his attention. Promptly, Connor swivels on his heel.

“You look different, RX,” the officer acknowledges, more skeptical than worried. “More…,” he ponders for the words, eventually settling on, “blue.”

Blue? Connor couldn’t tell what his commander meant, at least not with his processing unit so slow to react. Did he mean sad — as in the human emotional equivalent of blue? Taking a guess, Connor puts on his best smile in spite of his state and shakes his head.

“I assure you I’m normal, Captain. Fully functioning and eager to follow your directives!”

He hopes his summery tone is enough to dissuade his captain’s lingering stare — which it ultimately does — however, instead of looking appeased, his commander only looks more confused before resuming his strut in the other direction. Connor shuffles uncomfortably where he remains, glimpsing side to side self-consciously in case other people have witnessed his untimely encounter with the chief. Thankfully nobody seems to notice, but in the midst of his search, Connor manages to catch a glimpse at his own reflection against Hank’s black computer screen. He leans a bit closer to get a better look at himself, and what he finds puts his erroneous state into further perspective.

His hair is disheveled, the corners of his eyes tainted with faint webs of static, and his cheeks and nose are dusted a blue color eerily similar to that of his Thirium — his blue blood. That’s probably what Fowler was talking about; and if that wasn’t already damning enough, Connor could only imagine what Hank would say (or think) when he fetched him.

Connor smooths back his hair and pats at his cheeks. He’d have to be extra cautious with Hank if he wanted to dodge his attention. It’d be a difficult task given the detective had already picked up on his mild dysfunction the night prior, but Connor was always committed to giving his best effort. Sure, it may slow down his rate of update, but likely by a negligible amount.

Confident in his ability to disguise his condition, Connor tucks the Chief’s folder under his arm and heads down the nearest hallway towards the station’s south exit. This would work, and it would be worth it.

Anything was worth it if it meant sparing Hank’s judgment.

…

By the time Connor reaches Hank’s house, he’s damp with rainwater. He’d made longer treks in the rain in the past, but this time, he’d failed to take into account how the weather would affect his weakened system. Currently his internal temperature sat at an unusual low of 57 degrees Fahrenheit, and his whole body was shaking to make up for the cold. In the short amount of time that had passed, optimization had dropped to 66%.

The only positive was he’d somehow managed to relieve the blue tint in his face, and the repeated fits of sneezing had died down significantly now that he was surrounded by fresh air. If he was fortunate, that’s how it’d remain for the next several hours.

The Android climbs the front porch, then knocks at Hank’s door (always in threes). As usual, he’s first greeted by Sumo’s barking followed by the muffled sounds of Hank cursing out his unexpected (but still somehow predictable) return visitor.

“Goddammit, not today you walking nuisance!”

At least he knows it’s him.

“Apologies Lieutenant, but I’ve been given direct orders by Chief Fowler to come get you. He wants us to investigate another Deviant case immediately.”

There’s no response. Connor didn’t usually grovel, but he had work to do, and it was starting to get pretty cold out there in the rain.

“P-Please,” Connor pleads, unintentionally stuttering thanks to the shivers wracking his system. “You know I can’t do this without you, Lieutenant.”

There’s another pause of silence, only this time it’s followed by a characteristic groan and the sound of footsteps approaching the porch. Right on cue, Connor takes a step back just as Hank flings open the door and motions him inside.

“Get your ass in here and give me fifteen minutes, huh? I need to change and sober up a bit.”

Connor nods as he follows Hank inside, getting no more than a few feet into the living room before he’s bombarded by Sumo, who licks at his shins and threatens to knock him over given his massive size.

“Sumo down!” Hank orders as he heads towards his bedroom, though the friendly Saint Bernard pays his master no mind.

Connor giggles as he kneels to Sumo’s height and proceeds to pet behind his ears. “Good boy, Sumo,” he consoles. Freeing one hand, Connor fishes in his pockets until he comes across a particular texture, revealing a hidden stash of spare treats he carries solely for occasions like this. He palms the biscuits over for Sumo’s pleasure, and smiles fondly as the hound licks them from his grasp.

“You better not be feeding him again, Connor!” Hank calls from the other room.

“Of course not, sir!” Connor answers, cooing as Sumo’s tongue tickles his fingers. The more he visited Hank’s home, the more he looked forward to seeing Sumo’s goofy smile. He was starting to see why humans adored animals — especially good boys like Sumo.

“Riiiight,” Hank drawls in return. He’s been a detective for over 20 years, so why an Android attempted lying to him about his own dog, he seriously didn’t know. “Hey, Connor!”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Remind me later to tell Fowler to kiss my ass next time he sends me out into the rain. Swear that fucker doesn’t ever need me until the weather is shit,” he adds beneath a grumble.

“Will do,” Connor answers, still mildly distracted by the fluffy lump of love curled by his feet.

After a few more minutes, Hank emerges from his bedroom, dressed in a darkened leather coat, distressed blue jeans, and boots well past their wear. It complimented his grizzled aesthetic, which Connor was starting to find charming the more time they spent together. Hank must catch the way he’s staring, because he furrows his brows and gnaws at his bottom lip; a habit indicating some level of self-consciousness.

“What? I got something on my face?” Hank asks. It wouldn’t be the first time he left the house with pizza stains and booze clinging to his beard.

“No,” Connor replies, frankly. “I like your outfit. You look handsome, Lieutenant.”

Hank looks more perturbed than complimented, but regardless he says nothing but “Christ” under his breath as he brushes past Connor and swipes his house keys off his computer desk. As he does, the faint blush of his cheeks are exposed by the soft glow of his laptop’s LED. Connor smiles, rising to his feet and reaching for the door handle. Swinging it open, he beckons for Hank to lead the way.

Hank obliges the kind offer, but halts midstep just as he’s about to pass the pseudo-doorman.

“What’s on your face?” he asks after glimpsing Connor up and down.

The Android shuffles in place. “I-I don’t know what you mean,” he answers somewhat meekly.

Hank doesn’t believe him for a second, that much was obvious with the way he stiffens his jaw and narrows his eyes. Still, he chooses not to elaborate, and simply relents to looking back at Sumo, who has sidled up against his leg as a goodbye gesture. Hank gives the pup one last parting pat on the head before stepping out into the morose outdoors.

“Hold down the fort, Sumo. This won’t take long,” Hank sighs. “I’m not wasting more than four hours out in this goddamn shit.”

He starts down the front steps while Connor turns to close the door behind them. As the Android does so however, a dreadfully familiar tickle takes him by surprise, gracing him with barely enough time to tuck his nose into his collar — a sloppy and hurried attempt to suppress a mini fit.

“iihH’MFFSH’ui! ih’zZSHH! dtsSH’yiew!”

He sniffles carefully as he rises from his jacket and shakes his head free of the bothersome itch.

“Connor! The Hell are you doing?” Hank calls from the sidewalk.

“Nothing; sorry! I'm coming, Lieutenant!”

Sumo whimpers at the Android and paws at his leg, as though he senses something is wrong with his second best friend. To relieve the dog’s distress, Connor cups Sumo’s chin and scratches it one last time.

“I’m alright, Sumo. Be a good boy, okay? I promise I’ll bring Hank back home soon.”

With that said, Connor closes the door, tugs the handle to make sure it’s locked, then races after his Lieutenant. As he closes in on his side, another alert crowds his interface, reading: Functionality: Moderately Impaired. Code: C5Y0091-39BC. Result: Bio-Component Defects And Malfunction. Risk Of Shut-Down: Low. Self-Repairs Update Ongoing. Time Remaining: 55 Hours, 50 Minutes, And 50 Seconds. System performance is being automatically monitored by and reported to CyberLife HQ.

He sniffs discreetly and steals a final pinch at his nose. For one of the few times since they’d met, Connor agreed with Hank completely.

Hopefully this is all over soon.

#snz #snzfic #snzblr #snz kink #d/etroit: b/ecome h/uman #co/nnor R/K800 #h/ank a/nderson #whump-ish #full-time lurker spotted

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