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#“here how about you lie in my Wire Bath ^-^”
dovewingkinnie · 4 months
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the machine loves its technician
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musubi-sama · 6 months
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“Classmates” Chapter 3
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You end up spending all of Spring Break studying each other’s anatomy.
AN: I really want to go on this girl-date. Like, it’s just so fun and whimsical. Date or not, it’s on my list of things I want to do with a girlfriend. Here's the inspo for the outfits to keep in the back of your mind.
WC: 4.2k
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You awake to bright sun beaming into the room. Rolling over you check your phone on the bedside table, and it reads 11:17 am, Saturday. Rolling back, you feel movement beside you and look over to see a pair of half-open eyes staring at you.
“Mornin’ gorgeous,” Shoko says, with a deep sleepy gravel.
“Hi,” you say, letting out perhaps too much chipper in your tone.
“Oh no, you’re not one of those ‘morning people’ are you?” Shoko’s eyes shut as she tries to pull the covers over her head.
Trying to recall the events from last night with a small headache sitting right inside your forehead clouding your memory. You remember going to the bar, your boyfriend breaking up with you outside the bar, drinking a lot of beer, going back to Shoko’s apartment for wine, your first orgasm at the hands of another woman, a lovely bath and more wine, and wait, just how many more orgasms?
You groan as you reach over to the blankets covering Shoko, “do you want me to lie and say no?”
“No one’s perfect.”
“Can I at least raid your kitchen and make breakfast?”
“Be my guest. I don’t even know what food is in there,” Shoko rolls into you and leans up to plant a soft kiss on your jawline.
You return the gesture with a kiss on her forehead and then slide out of bed. Looking around, you see your discarded t shirt from after the bath sitting on the floor and toss it on as you walk out the door. You catch a catcall lobbed your way as you make your way out the door.
You respond with a flick of your hips and slip out of sight.
Shoko makes her way out of the bed and pulls on a short satin robe as she grabs a small clutch on her nightstand and steps out to the veranda. Shuffling through the clutch, she pulls out a lighter and cigarette pack. Finally freeing the stick from the pack, she lights the end and takes a drag.
A few minutes later you return to the bedroom with two coffees, a cup of milk, and a bowl of sugar.
“Oh, there you are,” you exclaim as you step outside. “I made coffee. But I didn’t see anything for breakfast in your kitchen.”
“Sorry, I don’t usually eat breakfast,” she offers a meek smile as she eagerly accepts the coffee and declines the milk and sugar.
“Bad habit,” you motion to the cigarette pack sitting on the table between you.
“Yeah. I’ve been considering stopping.”
Silence drifts between you as you sip coffee and take in the late-morning sun. As the caffeine innervates your brain, your jumbled thoughts start to reform into their usual confusing nest of twisted wires.
What was last night? Where does that leave you and Shoko? Are you bi or…? Drunken mistake? When can we go again? I was terrible at it, wasn’t I?
All knotted up, like a crowd of reporters at an urgent press conference. Pull on one thread, five others twist up tighter. You never had a problem with academic critical thinking and organizing your thoughts coherently. That was easy. Science has a logical start, middle, and end. But matters of emotions, those were pesky, illogical, and twisty.
You couldn’t blame your ex for breaking up with you, you weren’t exactly a good communicator when it came to your feelings. It was easy enough to talk about your opinions on the latest movie or video game, but to ask your brain to create a coherent thought about intimate concepts? Good luck.
Shoko put out her butt in the ashtray and finished her coffee. Crossing one leg over the other, her robe sliding down her leg to reveal a tease of her plush, bare, ass. The front open just enough to show off the soft dip in her cleavage. The movement and subsequent skin reveals snap you out of your thoughts. Your eyes flicker between the newly exposed chest and hips as you bring your feet up to rest on the seat of the chair and you lay your head on your knees.
“Care to join me on the couch?” Shoko’s eyes dart to your lips briefly as she shifts to stand up and take her mug and clutch back into her apartment.
“Happily," you follow her back into the bedroom.
You feel a little shameless immaturity as you stare at her while she drops the robe for a pair of leggings and a t shirt, hair clipped back with a few wisps hanging in her face in just the perfect messy-but-sexy way.
Heading into the living room, you pull a large throw blanket out of the closet as you curl up on one side of the couch, beginning a long session of ‘What do I want to watch when there are nigh-infinite choices and no pressing tasks to complete?’ Shoko grabs her own blanket and sits at the other end, legs extended on the chaise as she pops open her laptop.
“What are you in the mood for?” you ask Shoko.
“Whatever you want, angel.”
Your heart skips a beat and you fumble the remote for a moment but regain your grasp. “Ooo a new ancient civilization video podcast is out,” you start playing the video. It’s a long, four-hour video and you’re happy to lounge and not over think things for a while.
After a while, you shift your position on the couch and notice Shoko has been typing non-stop. You get up, head towards the kitchen and return with two glasses of water, sitting down one on the table near Shoko.
“For you.”
“Exactly what I needed right now,” She leans over to plant a small kiss on your cheek. You can’t hide your blush.
“So,” your voice comes out cracked. “What are you working on?” you scoot closer to her, apprehensively closing the distance on the couch.
“Oh, just my med school application,” she pushes her laptop away and turns to you.
“Woah. You’re so smart, a doctor-doctor,” you look at her with puppy dog eyes as you praise Shoko.
“I wouldn’t say that, just a glutton for punishment and school I guess,” she shrugs and takes a sip of water. You giggle, perhaps a bit too much, at her response. An awkward silence descends between you two, just taking sips of water and watching TV, you are unsure of how to continue the conversation.
So, did Shoko really mean it? That last night wasn’t just a one-time thing? You’ve known Shoko for around seven months, and you immediately noticed her poise, grace, and sharp wit. As you spent more long days and nights in the lab and office together, you saw her brilliance, dedication to helping others even if it meant a longer night for herself, and intensity. You’d get coffee with her and find yourself talking more than her, but every time you tried to steer the conversation back, she’d come back with another insightful question or comment for you.
Growing up, your friendships were polite and casual, never finding someone to call your ‘person.’ You filled your time with academics, hoping that you’d find someone via school to share secrets with or to call when a boy did something stupid. To get coffee with or just invite over to watch TV and drink wine.
You were starting to think that Shoko could be that person. And maybe this is what best best friends do. They get naked and touch each other in that way that makes their brains short circuit, and their eyes roll back in their heads to see colors beyond the realm of man. Just classmates who study from books and each other’s bodies.
You begin to feel a foot slowly sliding along yours, then up your leg.
“I need a break,” Shoko pulls her leg further up and slips it over yours.
She pulls both blankets over the two of you, creating a very cozy situation. Under the blankets, her hand snakes its way to your thigh and gives you a light squeeze. Your mouth goes dry, mentally cursing that you set your glass of water on the table.
“O-oh, uh, yeah?” you’re not very convincing while trying to keep a level tone.
“Yeah,” Shoko’s tone is sultry. She shifts herself under the blankets and slides to the floor, settling on her knees between your legs. Kissing up the inside of your thigh, leaving goosebumps in her wake and each breath of yours shakier than the last.
DAYS LATER
“You’re…picking this up-ahhh-quite fast,” Shoko is trying to catch her breath as she recovers from another orgasm. Water washes over her heaving chest as she pushes off the wall. You gently remove her leg from your shoulder as you rock back on your heels and look up from your position, licking your lips in satiated lust. You slide your hands up her body as you also stand, arms wrapping around her waist, hands hanging loosely on Shoko’s lower back.
“I’ve had a lot of practice, y’know,” planting a kiss on Shoko’s pulse point, then trailing up her jawline, and finishing by nipping her lower lip and pulling back slightly before releasing.
Shoko’s hands resting on your cheeks, arms caged in by yours. She’s enjoyed these moments of submission, being cared for and worshipped.
Being someone for whom friends and acquaintances came to for advice and an ear to bend brought the burden of information. Hearing of joys and accomplishments, the mundane meals one cooked or ate, but also the stress in someone’s life, the requests for advice in handling a tough situation. It warmed her to be considered a trusting person, but occasionally the secrets were too intense or the drama too much.
Sure, she had her best friends, Satoru and Suguru, to lean on and oh she did. But they weren’t her person, the one who would lay in her lap on the couch and be vulnerable towards. And take a bath with her and wake up in her arms. Could you be it? Or are you just close classmates?
“Let’s get out of here, I’m hungry and as much as I crave your pussy,” you bring your hand around to lightly graze Shoko’s core. “I need something that’ll give me more energy.”
Sitting at the table with a plate of sandwiches, you take a sip of water. Shoko sits down across from you.
“Hey. I was thinking, the weather is supposed to be exquisite today. I’ve got this instant photo camera and I saw an idea online recently where you go to the thrift store and pick out a new outfit for each other then go take pictures. Sound fun?” Shoko points over at her desk where you see a cute blue camera.
“Oh really? Yeah, let’s do it. We both could probably use the fresh air anyways.”
Dressed in your new-to-you outfits, you hop in Shoko’s car and make your way to a field of wildflowers.
“I know just the spot. I come here whenever I need to clear my head and get out of the city,” Shoko rests her hand on your leg as she cruises along the twisty, empty roads. Rolling hills with budding trees fill your view. Houses dapple the hills; sky is clear with the occasional wispy clouds. You enjoy the clarity the view brings, understanding why she likes coming out here.
Growing up in a high-rise in a city with career-married parents, you rarely took vacations or left the city. Even in college, you stayed near home and never took trips over school holidays. You found comfort in the cacophony; but this view (okay, sure Shoko is part of said view) is tickling a pleasant part of your brain you’d not felt before.
Pulling up to a small dirt road, Shoko stops the car and you both step out.
You’re in Shoko’s chosen outfit, a forest green and yellow leaf printed wrap skirt tied at your waist and reaching down just past your knees. The top is quite out of your comfort zone in orange and yellow striped fitted halter neck top with a keyhole detail, crisscrossed across your chest and fastened behind your neck. She also picked out some dainty gold chain earrings and some thin coordinating gold thin rings. The outfit is finished off with a pair of forest green mules.
Shoko is in a stunning pair of mustard yellow high waist wide leg trousers with a black cowl-neck one shoulder blouse, exposing her left arm. You also grabbed a pair of thick-framed black acrylic sunglasses and faux-leather booties.
You take a deep breath and exhale, “wow the air is amazing out here!”
Shoko smiles and walks around, taking your hand in hers and starts walking into the flowers “come with me.”
Following Shoko into the flowers, you find a small clearing and lay out a blanket. You sit across from Shoko, and she fishes in her satchel for her camera.
“I’m…I’m not really a ‘take pictures of me’ type of person…” you look down at your hands sitting in your lap, starting to fidget slightly.
“It’ll just be for our eyes only. And I’ll help you feel your best the entire time,” Shoko reassures you as she holds the camera to the side of her face. “Now, the best way to start is to make you laugh!
Remember at the bar last week when Mahito tripped over the step?”
“Oh, and then his beer spilled all down- “
“Right? And he grabbed the napkin to clean it up but then they- “
You both burst into laughter, and you hear the first click of the camera and a mechanical whirr as the photo begins to print. You continue chattering away while you wait for the photo to emerge and develop. Shoko gives it a shake and you lean over to look.
“Oh, I really like that one!” you give a surprised smile. Shoko just looks up at you while you examine the photo. She puts it next to her and readies the camera again.
“Can you daydream at night?” Shoko asks a sudden question, and you shift into an inquisitive expression.
*click whirr*
The questions and conversation continue as you trade the camera back and forth telling jokes, revealing shower thoughts, and watching the flower rustle in the light breeze. Clicking and whirring continue as the stack of photos piles up.
“I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” you say, looking out through the flowers and sky after several clicks of the camera.
“Well, are you going to do something about that?” Shoko pulls the camera away from her face.
You push her legs so you can slot in between them and sit with your back to hers. You’re partially laying down, looking up at her.
*click whirr*
When it comes out, you gasp and lean up to kiss her on the cheek.
*click whirr giggles*
“Which med schools are you applying to? Maybe if we’re lucky we could, y’know, keep being classmates…” you trail off, an inflection of question in your tone as you settle your head against her shoulder.
“Is that so?” Shoko looks down, her expression unreadable.
“Ah well, we don’t have to. I just thought maybe…”
“You’re so easy to fluster,” she lands a kiss on the top of your head.
“I’d love to continue to med school with you. I didn’t realize you were planning on applying,” Shoko swipes a stray hair out of your face.
“I didn’t really plan on it till about a month ago. But I think I’ve got the professional references, and the application isn’t all too dissimilar to grad school. The hard part will be the MCATs, but I think it’ll be manageable. Unless…you’re trying to go to a really difficult school?”
“Oh god no. I’m only applying to schools I know I have a real chance at attending, and they all have modest bars of entry. I’ve seen your work in the lab, you’ll have an easier time than me!”
*click whirr*
At this point, the sun is setting, and you’ve lost the golden rays. But you’ve both given up on taking more photos, opting to lay down on the blanket, Shoko resting her head on your stomach. You’re lost in the conversation, it continues free-flowing and meandering. The questions tickling the far-reaches of your brain, talking about concepts you’ve never spoken about to a person before. A few threads in your brain untangling. Despite of the chilly spring air falling over the two of you, you feel a warmth spreading from your chest and a sense of serenity.
Eventually Shoko checks her watch and it’s well into the evening.
“We should probably head back now. Do you want to stay one more night?” Shoko sits up slightly and reaches a hand up to your cheek.
“If you’ll have me,” you reach your hand up to hold hers.
“Oh, gladly,” Shoko chuckles softly and for a brief flash you see a wisp of lust float through her eyes.
Returning to Shoko’s apartment, with bags of fast food in your arms, you both settle onto the floor around the coffee table and turn on some reality TV while you eat dinner.
After throwing away the final trash in the kitchen, you feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind and a soft kiss planted on your neck. Before you can pull your arms around to grasp the ones around your waist, they’ve snaked their way up your abdomen and are clutching your breasts in your striped top.
“You look even better in this than I expected,” Shoko squeezes both hands, attempting to grasp all of your chest in her hands. You let out a soft moan and acquiesce into another kiss on your neck.
“Those pants make your legs go on for days, babe,” you reach back to grab Shoko’s ass. Her eyes roll to the back of her head at hearing the petname, simple as it is.
Shoko spins you around, leaning you against the counter, and immediately plants her lips on yours. She gets aggressive, biting and pulling on your lower lip. Her hands threading through your hair, giving a small tug with the bite.
You pull your head back and then aim right at her neck. You latch on and suck until you hear a moan and release your lips. Satisfied with yourself for leaving a deep mark. Your hands finding their way back to her ass and squeeze again, rubbing up and down, cupping them from underneath.
You continue to makeout with Shoko, tongues sliding around each other, puffy lips nipping at anything they can reach, both sets of hands roaming wildly across each other’s bodies, until Shoko lifts you up onto the counter. She slots in between your legs while finding the seam of your wrap skirt. Shoko peels it back and you spread your legs further.
She crouches down and plants light kisses up the inside of your thigh, hands sliding up along with her lips little by little. A trail of goosebumps in her wake. Her soft nose bumps your clothed clit, and you buck slightly at the sensation.
“Next time,” Shoko is panting lightly, “how about we pick out lingerie instead?”
She tugs at your panties, sliding them off and down your legs to drop onto the floor. Settling onto her knees, Shoko takes a soft lick up your quivering pussy. You lean back on your hands and throw your head back as you let out a long moan.
Shoko reaches her hand up, thumb rubbing lazy circles on your clit. Wanting to taste more of your sweet cunt, she begins to lick and suck, swallowing every drop that collects on her tongue.
Increasing the pressure, Shoko’s tongue touches every nerve that drives you closer to the edge. Each touch tightens the knot forming in your abdomen. After a week of fucking in every room and with little breaks, she’s figured out the exact ways to tease and touch, and the exact ways to turn you into a puddle.
Shoko takes her free hand and slides two fingers in with little resistance. Her tongue licking the outer folds, she turns her palm up and curls her fingers to slide across that spongy bundle of nerves waiting for attention. You immediately keen and wrap your legs around Shoko’s head, pulling her in closer. She moans at how needy you’re being.
Continuing to increase the movement and pace, Shoko looks up and sees your chest heaving and your stomach contracting. Your whines are getting louder, reaching fever pitch as suddenly the knot in your abdomen feels almost somehow tighter. As if Shoko has touched a new nerve, a string that has wrapped itself around the knot, squeezing it that much stronger.
The knot snaps and your hips launch up off the counter, leaving you to brace yourself on your arms. All rational and irrational thought ceases in your brain. All that courses through the neurons are the sounds of dialup internet. And for the first time in your life, you squirt. Shoko immediately latches on to your spasming cunt and swallows as much as she can, the rest falling past her chin. She stays attached to you until your hips return to the counter.
You slowly lift your head up, chest still heaving as your heartrate begins to normalize, and Shoko takes that cue to stand up and give you a taste of yourself. Moaning into your lips, she removes her hands from your oversensitive core, bringing them up to your cheeks, not caring of the mess it is making. Certainly, less of a mess than what just exploded from you. As your brain slowly starts to revive itself, you return the intensity of the kiss and sit up fully.
“What…what was that?” you are incredulous, pulling away from Shoko’s lips, but leaving your foreheads touching. “What-how?”
“You don’t think I haven’t been practicing for years on myself. Not to mention, we’ve spent how much time together this week? Surely you wouldn’t insult the skills of my hands?” Shoko pouts and puts on a fake hurt expression, exaggerating her last sentence.
“Oh god no.” Taking one of her hands in yours, you begin to clean off her fingers one at a time, wrapping your tongue around each wet digit. “Your fingers are a gift from above.”
You both giggle and Shoko feels weak every time you wrap your soft tongue around one of her fingers. Her aching pussy throbbing at each lick.
You finish your task and hop off the counter. Heading towards the bedroom, you sway your hips side to side with each step, and just before stepping around the corner, you look over your shoulder with your best attempt at a sultry gaze accompanied with a single finger beckoning at Shoko.
Shoko blinks twice, still in disbelief that you’ve spent not just one night in her bed, and not just coffee after classes or drinks with the lab, but a whole week exploring each other’s bodies, snuggling on the couch, and discarding your veils to just be yourselves.
Once Shoko arrives in the bedroom, you’ve already discarded your skirt and are attempting to work your way out of the halter top but are struggling to unlatch the buttons. Shoko approaches and the collar drops instantly with a flick of her fingers.
“Your turn. Drop the extra layers and go lay on the bed,” you attempt to sound commanding.
Shoko appreciated the attempt, and before disrobing, she slid a hand under your chin and whispered, “Oh I do love a woman in charge.”
Once Shoko settled herself on the bed, you climb up and face her, draping your left leg over her right and sliding your other leg under her left. You then start to slide closer to her. Once you are sitting within inches, feeling the heat radiating from her core, you reach out a hand to collect up a bit of what is leaking from her. You moan as the sweetness hits your tongue.
Bringing your cunt to reach hers, you slowly rub up and down, letting your arousals mix into a sweet concoction. You let your head fall back as you press harder, Shoko pressing back to you. Heavy pants are heard, but you can’t tell where one’s sounds end and the other begins.
The intensity increasing, Shoko’s head lolling down into her chest, chest heaving as your peaks approach. A sheen of sweat forming, arousal dripping onto the bed as you both push together and slip past one last time as your arms lose their strength and you both collapse in ecstasy.
Bathing in the afterglow, limbs still tangled, bodies touching in lewd ways, you slowly pull yourself up and shift so that Shoko can bury her head in your bosom. You thread your fingers in hers as you let your heartbeats even out together, keeping your pulses close to each other.
“Hey, I had an amazing week. And despite of how vigorously we relaxed, it really was relaxing,” you say to Shoko as you squeeze her hand for emphasis.
“I hope it helped ease the heartbreak,” Shoko starts to get up and head towards the bath. “Let’s get cleaned up and actually relax.”
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bomberqueen17 · 9 months
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Acid Dyes In Squirt Bottles: kinda a tutorial
So I bought some silk scarves with an eye toward dyeing them to use for giftwrapping for Christmas, and I'd idly meant to research techniques but suddenly realized I'm running out of time.
Almost all the tutorials on dyeing anything at all that I can find lately are for ice dyeing. Which is cool and I love that that's so trendy now. But some of the ones I've watched...
Well, see the point of ice dyeing is that powdered dyes often split into components and so you get really cool edge-effects where the different pigments in the dye penetrate the fabric differently because of the slow wicking action of the melting ice etc. I watched a tutorial where someone just had three primary colors, which are generally pure pigments, and did this, and I was like, you could have put those into squirt bottles and saved yourself about 8 hours plus all the time you spent making that ice. It did give a nicely feathered spectrum effect but the ice mostly did not contribute anything to the process.
But what I did learn from that tutorial was some advice on how to get acid dyes to strike in a cold low-immersion process. So I'm going to write up what I did, since that's what I was actually looking for, and every bit of information I can currently find is contained in overly-long videos that spend most of their runtime on irrelevant stuff.
Mostly this is for my own reference later, as I'm now old enough that I keep stumbling across things I've made and being like "wait I don't remember how I did this. I really made this? I have to have, nobody else lives here. How did I do this??" So anyway, overly-long and underly-technical writeup below the cut. Pictures to follow in a separate post.
What do I mean, cold low-immersion process??
Immersion is how most dyeing works. You make a dye bath, and you dunk your fabric into it. Low-immersion means you lie your stuff all out on some flat surface, maybe over a wire rack maybe over a sheet of plastic, and just put enough dye on for it to soak in. That's low-immersion, and generally is how you're gonna get multiple unmixed colors on one object.
and cold? Well, acid dyes, which work best on protein-based fibers like wool and silk, need heat to strike, or actually bond to the fabric. If you just dunk some silk in a dye bath and then rinse it, the dye mostly rinses out. You need heat to set it.
Let's back up a second-- acid dyes?? So there are two main types of dyes you use on fabric. Acid dyes are called that because you add some vinegar once the dye has soaked in, to get it to stick. (Yes, you need acid and heat!) The other kind, which you usually use for ice dyeing, is fiber-reactive dyes. Fiber-reactive are what you want for cotton, linen-- plant-based fibers, and some synthetics. (Nylon works with acid dyes for some reason, rayon needs fiber-based. I don't remember why but the Internet surely knows, it's surely very simple.)
So anyway. Fiber-reactive dyes are applied to fabric that's been pre-treated with soda ash and then set without much heat, though they do need to "cure" at a high temperature-- it doesn't have to be as hot as with acid dyes though. (A black plastic bag in the sun, an electric blanket lying overtop the bag they're in, that level of heat at most.) So they're the usual, traditional type of dyes you use for tie-dyeing, which is normally done on cotton t-shirts, and which very often is done with low-immersion methods to let you get a bunch of colors on there, are fiber reactive dyes. Many many many tutorials exist for this, including how to tie them. Very cool stuff.
I wanted that effect on silk though.
(*the alkali pre-rinse is fine for cotton and linen and such. alkali on silk is Generally Bad News. This is another reason people generally don't do fiber reactive dyes on silk. Silk shrugs off acid reasonably well but alkali is no bueno. Also for the record never ever try to bleach silk for any reason, that dissolves it. Now You Know!)
So. I did find this tutorial from Dharma Trading, about space dyeing. Remember when space-dyed stuff was trendy?? Many of you whippersnappers probably don't. It used to be cool and is probably what led to the invention of ice-dyeing, which clearly like A Person invented but I have no idea who and I bet finding out would be difficult so my ADHD ass is NOT going down that rabbit hole right.
So i tried that. I used aluminum foil instead of plastic wrap for the simple reason that my kitchen is currently torn apart and all my worldly goods in cardboard boxes but I had a roll of aluminum foil in the basement for some reason. I put down a vinyl tablecloth on my washing machine and used it as a work surface. And I found a broken old steamer insert and set it in an old aluminum pot that lives in the basement.
I mixed up squirt bottles of four colors of acid dye in approximately the proportions from the Dharma tutorial. I don't have measuring implements currently, see above re: kitchen (I'm planning on retiring a number of my measuring implements to serve in fiber arts, and keeping only the nice ones for the new nice kitchen, but that hasn't happened yet) so it was all very approximate.
And then I just lay each silk scarf out on the aluminum foil on the dryer and went to town.
I learned to be careful and sparing with the amount of dyes, to keep them from pooling underneath the material-- silk scarves aren't very absorbent. Any excess dye pooling on the aluminum foil will of course spread and get muddy. So what I wound up doing was working from right to left (on my left was the laundry sink), and doing my lightest color on the right and my darkest on the left, and then when I was done, I used an eyedropper to apply white vinegar to lock in the pigment, and then I picked the whole works up very carefully and tipped it to the left and let everything extra run off into the sink. So having my, say, fuschia run across the back of what was supposed to be a dark purple section didn't lead to any notable color contamination. One colorway had bright lemon yellow in it, and I was incredibly careful not to let any smudges or drips touch that-- kept it on the right of my workspace, propped up slightly. The yellow draining across the red and purple of that colorway didn't cause a problem, but I did wind up with a fingerprint of darker color in the yellow area (I think that's what caused the blot anyway).
Anyway, once the dye was all applied, and I'd let it drip into the sink for a moment, I then folded up each scarf into its own packet, careful to still keep the lighter end upward, and put it into my busted-ass steamer basket which made this easier because one of the legs has fallen off it, see, so it tilts anyway, that's why I retired it, and put the lid on and steamed each packet for about half an hour to 45 minutes.
At the end of that I pulled each packet out (there were overlaps, where I'd put a second packet in halfway through the first one. Most of the Strict Rules About Steaming Silk don't apply to this process because drips aren't a problem, dips in temperature that might lead to uneven mottling aren't a problem, this is just meant to be pretty color splotches with random patterns so literally none of the intimidating stuff you have to do to achieve perfection are a problem here), I let it cool off a bit and then unwrapped it and rinsed the scarf. Not much color came off them, and I was able to reuse the foil, which it's not that I'm being eco-friendly so much as that I only had the one roll of foil with not much left on it and this was the last day I could really do this, so. Not very scientific, but in the end I really was very thrifty LOL. Yes! I was being eco-friendly, that's why i'm like this.
I then let the scarves dry on my drying rack overnight, and came back the next day to collect them. I brought them all back to my mother-out-law's to wash them in her washing machine since mine is currently not properly hooked up (additional nightmare, love it)-- I figured this wouldn't be messy in her impeccable laundry room and I was right, very little dye to rinse out. Gave them a wash with dharma's professional detergent, then a rinse with milsoft, then an extra rinse, and I've now let them dry again, ironed them, and have them in a plastic bag with some perfume because the detergent smells kind of awful LOL. I'm letting them sit like that for a day or two and then I'll get them out and package them up for gifts.
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moonlight-tmd · 10 months
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Been thinking about all the interfacing content of my favorite ships with Bee and not gonna lie... it's kind of old isn't it? I mean, I know we all like it to some extent but honestly, I can see Bee not being the way you write him with these.
Let me take a normal ProwlBee for this- oh and here's the anker post so you know what i'm talking about.
Bee was a flirter to be sure, he knew how to talk to get folks to get along with him. He knew the tricks to make them do what he wanted if it came to it. But the truth was; it was all learned behavior. Things he have seen other bots do on the street back when he was a near-homeless youngling. He had no idea what their true intentions were nor what interfacing was. He ran away from the carequarters long before anyone could explain it to him.
When he got together with Prowl, he was being more "smooth" as they described. He had no idea what he was doing until during one of their make-out sessions, Prowl's chassis split open and the tentacle-like wires slithered out.
"...You do know what interfacing is, right?" Prowl has hesitantly asked after Bee very much freaked out by something Prowl was very common with.
"Yes, defintelly- of course I know what that is!" Bee tried to act confident, putting on a charade like one of the bots he saw on the streets. But Prowl's 'i know you don't' look made him give in and admit. "...No, I don't."
So after a few questions, it became clear Bee didn't even know what those parts were nor what they were used for... nor what all the alluring talk he did was meant to do. Prowl decided it was best to educate Bee on those topics, starting with his own biology and interfacing.
After brief-but-on-point explanation about the struts he got Bee to try interfacing with him.
Bee was uncertain, the feeling of those struts exposed wasn't what Prowl described it felt. Still, he forced himself to follow and let Prowl gently stroke the tentacles. He internally told himself it will feel good, that Prowl knows what he's doing and it will all be great...
He tired to make himself enjoy it, but as soon as one of Prowl's tentacles gently slid against one of his, his mind screamed 'NO' at him. He pushed Prowl away and scooted to the other end of the berth.
"I'm sorry- I-I tried to enjoy it. But i just can't- I'm sorry, I-" Bee tried his best to calm down, he didn't know why he felt like this, he wanted to cry, this- this wasn't supposed to make him cry, right?
"Bee, it's okay... I said you don't have to if you don't want. Nobody is forcing you to do this." Prowl shushed, he gently cupped Bee's faceplate and wiped the incoming tears away. "It's okay if you don't want to do this. Some people don't like to interface and that is okay. You are not any less loved if you don't want it either."
Bee let himself settle in Prowl's hug- Prowl assured him nothing will happen this time. He felt bad, he thought he could do it and meet Prowl's expectations... but Prowl did not let him have any of it, he kept reassuring him that it was okay and that he shouldn't push himself to do what he doesn't want. Interfacing wasn't the most important thing in a relationship after all.
And while Prowl was running fairly warm and the need for contact settled he pushed it down for the sake of Bee's comfort. He could deal with it later.
After that, Bee's flirty talk has reduced. He still did it from time to time cuz old habits die hard but now that he knew what it was associated with he shyed away from it.
Eventually, Prowl found something that could be an alternative to interfacing for them. Light bathing.
"It's a practice where two Sparkmates open their chassis' and let their Spark's light illuminate them- none of Spark Chambers are open, of course." Prowl explained, Bee was sceptical when Prowl started with 'I know you don't feel comfortable interfacing-'
"And then what happens?" His voice had an obvious suspicious undertone.
"Nothing. We just sit there and enjoy each other's presence. It's okay if you don't want to try, it was just a suggestion." Prowl spoke with the kind smile, he wouldn't dare overstep Bee's boudaries. Bee decided that it sounded alright and wanted to try.
They sat in the pile of pillows and plushies in Bee's room at night, doors locked to guarantee them privacy. They had a little count-down to break the nervousness. Both of their chassis' split and revealed their Spark's casings, the light poured thru the little windows in them. Their servos rested in each other, eventually Prowl made their digits intertwine. Bee, in a moment of boldness, decided to lean in and press his forehelm to Prowl's- a common gesture of affection on Cybertron that could be interpreted as human culture's kiss.
They sat there, the quiet thrumming of their Sparks filling the silence, the ghostly emotions flowing on their plating like breeze as the feeling of content and comfort fell over them like morning mist. It wasn't bad at all.
So from then on, sometimes both of them would sit or lay together and enjoy the intimacy. While Prowl still has to take care of himself on rare occasion, they were doing just fine.
Idk, maybe it's me projecting my asexuality on the comfort character but who cares, I wrote him as trans once so I can do whatever I want. Deal with it. If I want smutless fluff then I shall have it.
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Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood, language, brief nudity. Later chapters will be M Warnings: Nah fam Summary: Local vampire finds out she can't kill soft human (because they're soulmates, baby), human becomes insufferable bastard, oops they fuck later. Soulmate AU where if one person gets injured, their soulmate feels the same amount of pain and receives a scar in the relevant area.
1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring
It’s not that you had expected to survive this- being locked in the dungeon of Castle Dimitrescu, waiting for the day you’re picked to be someone’s meal. Oh no, you had given up on surviving long ago, it was just that… well, you had hoped that someone with a softer touch would do you in. But here you were, too exhausted to cry, hanging naked in front of none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu. Her eyes were trailing you up and down, examining every inch of your skin, every flaw, every unique trait. It was like she was making a mental map of which parts of you would taste best. Goddamn, you wanted to spit in her face, or scream, or say something, anything that might make her feel even an ounce of what you had felt for weeks.
But you know that she’s already planning to kill you, and to make it painful. Why give her any more reason? Why dare her to find a worse way to end your life? There was no good answer, so you stayed still, just watched her move. Maybe if you looked bored enough she’d make it quick, just stab a knife in you and drink you up like a capri sun. Or, maybe, if you kept a straight face, she would admire your courage. Oh, how you longed for people to think of you kindly now, in your last moments, when dying clean and pretty was no longer an option.
Pulling a blade from some hidden sheathe, Cassandra approaches you with a wicked grin. There’s still blood on her lips from her last victim. Had they not sated her? Or had she been like this for some time? When she inevitably drank from you, how long would your blood remain on her lips? You weren’t sure that you wanted to know. In your mind, you picture her cleaning up as soon as she was done with you. It does not make you feel any better. Neither does the way she traces a finger across your chest, left to right, practicing for the incision to follow. She pauses to lick her lips, making direct eye contact as she does.
What happens next passes by so quickly that you don’t process any of it until the whole ordeal is over. The blade’s tip digs into your chest, just below your collarbone, before dragging along half the width of your torso. It hurts like hell, but you manage to keep your misery to yourself. But your pain is soon replaced with confusion; Cassandra screams, loud enough to echo throughout the basement, doubling over herself. In an instant her knife has clattered to the floor, forgotten. Instinct takes over your brain, the default programing kicking in, and you say something that fills you with instant regret.
“Are you okay?” Your voice is a bit quiet, and raw, worn out from lack of hydration. But it is enough, evidently, for Cassandra to hear. She’s rising back up and glaring at you, one hand clutching her chest. Something in her expression tells you that she thinks you’re mocking her. While that wasn’t technically the case, there was a part of you that found joy in this, watching your captor get a taste of their own medicine. The question left in your mind was why she was in pain. “I’ll take that as a no,” you said, again left with regret at your choices.
Now her hand is swiping at your face, nails cutting you open. Once more she hisses in pain, now clutching her head, shaking a little as she does. When she meets your gaze, you see that she’s more confused than anything. More than that, you see the marks on her face, knowing instantly that they match your own. Oh hell no, you thought, grimacing.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Cassandra growled through clenched teeth. Bouncing back and forth on her heels, she seems tense, unsure of how to process what’s happening. You feel the same way, desperately wanting to pretend that this doesn’t mean you’re her soulmate. Maybe the universe had just messed up, crossing some wires, or decided to pull a prank on the two of you. Either way it was better than the alternative. Eager to think about something else, you start considering your options. The first that comes to mind is ridiculous. Stupid, really. But would it amuse you? Absolutely.
“Not gonna lie, I feel better about the idea of you killing me now. Feel free to make it painful, darlin’, I won’t mind,” you snarked, lips curling up into a smirk. Oh boy was it satisfying to watch Cassandra’s response. One of her hands raises to smack you, only for her to freeze before releasing a torrent of swears. Hurting you meant hurting herself. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle a little aching? Haven’t you ever imagined what it’s like to be on the other side of things? Under the blade yourself, blood soaking your skin, eyes too dry for even a single tear? Poor thing,” you purred, tone as teasing as it could get. Apparently it’s aggravating enough for Cassandra to fight through the pain, as she slams her fist into your stomach, leaving both of you gasping for breath. “This is fun-” you pause to cough out a few drops of blood- “really, really fun. Hey, if you kill me, how bad do you think you’ll feel?”
Before Cassandra can react, either to speak or hurt you worse, the sound of approaching footsteps draws her attention. From where you hang you can’t see much, too many cells and hanging bodies blocking your vision. But your “soulmate” seemed to know who was coming. Her face scrunches up a little, and she adjusts her robes, trying to cover the mark on her chest. Had you not still been coughing, you would have sarcastically asked her how she intended to hide her face.
“What the hell is going on, Cassandra?” An unfamiliar voice asked. The footsteps grew louder, and faster, until the new figure stood in the same cell as you. Not even bothering to spare you a glance, she approaches Cassandra, reaching to examine her face. “Did a prisoner manage to get you? I’ve told you a thousand times-”
“Don’t fucking touch me, sis,” Cassandra snapped, pushing away her sister’s hand. Both of them are visibly tense, and for a moment they stand still, staring each other down. Then the sister (who you assume to be Bela, from things you’ve overheard recently) shifts her focus to you. Something tells you that she has no intentions of being gentle.
“Did you do this, you rotten little thing?” Bela questioned, glaring at you hard enough to send a shiver down your spine. But that doesn’t stop you from trying to have some more fun.
“Oh, of course I did! I rattled my chains real good, scared the shit out of her, made her fall on her own knife a few times. You know, like that one musical?” You must look insane as you speak, grin wide but face dripping with blood. If it unnerves Bela, she hides it well, though you doubt it does. As soon as you’re done poking fun she’s pulling out her sickle. Still grinning, you make eye contact with Cassandra, who realizes what’s happening a second too late. Then the two of you cry out in unison, as the blade carves into your shoulder. Instantly Bela pulls back, stunned, turning to her sister with genuine concern. “I might have lied. Rest assured though, it was for comedic purposes.”
The next thing you know the two sisters are shuffling away from you, Cassandra begrudgingly being dragged along by Bela. Though the younger of the two had been adamant about not receiving help, she now had little choice in the matter, skin searing from your blood bond. Even you are starting to breathe harder than you’d like.
“Was it something I said?” You barked, barely able to manage a fit of giggles between your coughing. Bela shoots you a glare over her shoulder, but quickly returns her attention to her sister. They talk, quickly, soft enough that you can only make out a few words here and there. It’s hard to make meaning from it, especially considering their vastly different tones. Cassandra is pure anger, gestures fast and wide, while Bela is oddly solemn, even regretful. When you finally catch a couple full sentences, things start to make a little more sense, though you wish they didn’t.
“We can kill them painlessly, in their sleep. That way you won’t have to suffer,” Bela whispered. She’s doing her best to comfort her sister, despite the tension in the room, gently patting her on the back. Briefly, you make eye contact with her. In that moment she looks equal parts executor and unwilling jury. But she looks away quickly, even shifting her angle to prevent it from happening again.
“No, fuck that, fuck this, I’m… I’m not killing them. Nobody is,” Cassandra growled, daring to emphasize her point by pushing Bela away. Now it’s her turn to look at you, brows furrowed, eyes betraying something more than just anger. Somehow it’s a million times worse than when she first came in. You strain yourself trying to look away, cursing the chains keeping you in place, resorting to closing your eyes and pretending none of this was real. “I don’t care what you think, Bela. They’re already my ‘meal’, might as well get what enjoyment out of this that I can.”
Again, footsteps echo through the basement. Tension locks your muscles in place, and your eyes are still clamped shut, to the point that you don’t realize your chains are being undone until you’ve hit the ground. Cursing under your breath, you finally open your eyes again. There’s blood on the floor, only some of it yours, and you’re suddenly aching for a bath. More than that, though, you’re praying for something to cover yourself with. Certainly Cassandra didn’t need to see everything, now that you weren’t a piece of meat for her to enjoy? As if reading your mind, the middle Dimitrescu daughter flings open a nearby cabinet, messily searching for something. Eventually she gives a hum of approval, then tosses a blanket in your direction.
“Put it on, dipshit, then follow me,” she snapped, already walking away. For a moment you’re tempted to stay there, sitting still, waiting to see how long it would take for her to notice. But one look from Bela sends the thought back to whatever crevice of your mind it crawled out of. So you’re moving, hastily, awkwardly wrapped in a somewhat itchy blanket. Other prisoners eye you as you pass, some shouting curses or even spitting at you. At first Cassandra takes no notice, or simply doesn’t care, but eventually the noise seems to irritate her. Turning back, she takes her sickle in hand and slams the handle into the bars of a cell. It’s loud, making you flinch, but gets everyone’s attention. “Next one to make a peep gets the blood eagle!”
“Is that, like, a sex thing?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself. Laughter rings out around you from the few prisoners capable of it. Cassandra is seething again, looking about ready to kill you. Then she’s shifting into swarm mode, spreading out wide, insects barreling through half the occupied cells. A few cries escape the prisoners, as the flies take bites out of them, cutting a perfect balance between pain and (a lack of) lethality. They’d be suffering for days to come, every movement making their wounds ache. “Not a sex thing, got it,” you muttered to yourself, just as Cassandra reforms in front of you. This time she grabs the blanket you’re wrapped in, using it to tug you forward, sending you towards the exit.
“Shut up for five minutes and I might let you put on actual clothes,” she growled, keeping one hand on your back to guide you. The offer is the closest thing to kindness you’ve seen from her, and you have half a mind to do what she says. Would you actually manage to keep quiet for that long? Well, you were certainly looking forward to finding out...
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taggedmemes · 3 years
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SENTENCE MEME ⟶ SPACE FORCE / 1.02 + 1.03 tenses and wording have been slightly altered for ease of sending. always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse!
'wait, are you okay to drive?’
‘acts of foreign aggression really sober me up.’
‘anyway, my father wouldn’t approve.’
‘are we sure that the nips will be exposed?’
‘oh! this is a fun sleepover kind of energy, huh?’
‘okay, what have we here? this says... ‘bomb’. i don’t know if that’s a noun, a verb, or an adjective describing my outfit.’
‘alright, a big fuckin’ bomb. that was my first instinct anyway.’
‘soon, everybody will be out of a job, except scientists.’
‘why do you distrust scientists?’
‘what about duty? is that not enough of a treat anymore?’
‘this is absolutely disgusting. look.’
‘sometimes you have to lie to people in order to motivate them.’
‘hey, did those kidnappers get the money i wired them?’
‘you have got to stop wiring money to scammers.’
‘i won’t even open it. never click on a link with the word ‘scam’ in it.’
‘my heart beats so slow lately i don’t even really sleep.’
‘in my experience there’s ‘fired’ and then there’s fired. this one felt more like a ‘fired’ type thing.’
‘okay, well, he was gonna die anyway.’
‘this... did not go as planned.’
‘don’t be a sore loser.’
‘i took over the rescue efforts personally, and it all pretty much went sideways.’
‘did anyone try to bomb anything?’
‘hey, thanks for the pineapple.’
‘that chimp better keep his fuckin’ mouth shut.’
‘you need to know math, kiddo. you could invent the thing that saves the world.’
‘i’m being as real as a cinder block.’
‘i would like to know why my science budget pales in comparison to the riches devoted to turning space into an orgy of death.’
‘will you tell this prepubescent killing machine who i am?’
‘oh, wow. they should not have allowed that.’
‘the project where i grow fur on plants is gone.’
‘nobody’s gonna say that.’
‘i wouldn’t be doing my job if i didn’t prepare you for the worst.’
‘is it okay if i still call you in case anything...’
‘do you also own a van, you fucking creep?’
‘as a scientist, you have a loyalty to reason.’
‘got suspended. gave a teacher the finger.’
‘and now he lives under a bridge like a troll.’
‘you know, since you’re responsible for moving us to this hellhole and ruining my life.’
‘jesus, just let him fly the fucking thing!’
‘what do you mean, ‘whoops’?’
‘i bet you wish you didn’t flip off your teacher now, huh?’
‘sometimes i dake my lunch over there and watch them build rocket engines.’
‘isn’t any thinking to you ‘overthinking’?’
‘he is just a pain in the ass.’
‘get your junk out of my face, please.’
‘i always thought that you were a tampon.’
‘acknowledge my gender again, and i will fuck you in the ass.’
‘i can’t believe this is how you spend your free time.’
‘see any joints laying around that we could smoke?’
‘i even pretended to like hunting. but they asked ‘hunting what?’ and then i panicked and said ‘whales’.’
‘i’m not sure we should be having this conversation.’
‘i’ve seen you taking a bath.’
‘and, uh, ‘my age’? too young for me.’
‘he doesn’t know how to hug.’
‘he’s gotta be the nicest of all the creepy older russian dudes that you could be ruining your life with, right?’
‘look, if i could get some super snappy-dressing foreign guy to like me because of my proximity to classified information, i would totally jump at it.’
‘since when did you and him start hanging out and talking about women’s underwear?’
‘what the fuck am i supposed to do?’
‘with your skinny butt, you’re probably gonna make more selling soft serve.’
‘sometimes it’s just not about saving money.’
‘you cannot make an orange out of powder and urine, no matter how hard we try.’
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sour--disposition · 4 years
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Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts
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harry x fem!reader
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Request: OOoO what if you do one where reader similar to Harry and is friends with talia and the other girls, but has never met the sidemen yet and gets invited to do a drinking video with them and they don’t know that reader can hold her liquor and Harry is at awe watching her smash the drinks and pins after her
please check my masterlist to see if requests are open
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“Hey, are you busy on Thursday? Simon wants to know if you’ll be in a moresidemen video”, Talia asked as soon as you picked up the phone.
“Well, hello to you, too”, you laughed into the phone. “Yeah, I’ll just make sure I get my editing done by Wednesday night. Let Si know I’ll be there with you. What are we doing?”, you asked her.
“I think he wants us to do a say it or shot it. They wanted to do a lie detector but they couldn't find anyone to administer it or lend out the equipment”, she said.
“Yeah, sounds good”, you replied. “Just make sure someone tells me when and where, yeah?”.
It was Sunday evening, which meant you had 3 full days to film and edit a video that you were happy to put out. Being a a fast-growing youtuber, you tried to stick to a consistent schedule when you could. Along with streaming most nights, staying on top of your content kept you pretty busy.
“So, if I film tomorrow, I’ve got tomorrow night, Tuesday and Wednesday to edit. Need Wednesday night free for a shower to be ready for Thursday. There’s the stream with Talia tomorrow night and hopefully Gee on Tuesday. If I clear Wednesday night out... Okay. Seems good!”, you mumbled to yourself as you tried to make a game plan for the next two weeks.
Talia: youtube studio space, be there for 11am xx
Me: so im getting peppered mid-day or spilling all my secrets to like 5 million subs? lavely xx
Talia: shut up its bc you love me xx
Knowing you’d set yourself a schedule from tomorrow onwards, you set about enjoying your night. You had a bath, ordered your favourite take away and sat and watched your favourite show. The next few days were going to consist of hard work if you wanted to keep on top of streaming and getting a post-worthy video up by the end of the week.
-
By Thursday morning, you had a video you were proud to post, a few more hours of streams logged and were ready to face the moresidemen shoot in all its glory. You met Talia outside the Youtube studio space with a few minutes to spare before the guys were expecting you in there.
“You’ve not met Harry, have you?”, Talia asked as she pulled the door open for you.
“Thanks”, you smiled. “No, I think I might have been in an Among Us video with you lot that he was in, but other than that, no”, you confirmed, holding the next door for the two of you to go through.
“You can’t hide that blush from me by opening a door, Y/N”, Talia grinned, poking at your side.
“Oh, shush. Just because he’s cute...”, you trailed off, walking into large room. Immediately, you and Talia were ushered over to some of the crew, having mics strapped and clipped to you.
“Hey”, Simon said to the two of you as you finished being fitted with your mics. “Thanks for doing this”.
You were both pointed over to a table with assorted bottles on it, two Krox shot glasses and three chairs around it. There were a handful of chairs to one side of the space, a few of the guys already sitting down. “So I’m gonna ask the first questions and then the guys are probably gonna pitch in a few once those are done with”, Simon told you.
You and Talia both made noises of agreement, walking over to the chairs and sitting down. Simon started with his intro to the video, explaining what was going on and who you were. “Okay so, you either answer the question or you take a shot of your choice out of what we’ve got in front of you. We’ve got questions from instagram and twitter, and then our lovely audience are going to be able to ask questions themselves. Are we ready?”.
The questions started relatively tame, most of them were about your friendship with Talia, Gee and Freya or the guys, and most of Talia’s were about her and Simon. You didn’t even think about pouring a shot until Simon had sacked off the instagram and twitter questions for not being ‘juicy’ enough.
“What’s the weirdest sex story Y/N has told you?”, JJ asked Talia. 
“I will take this shot for you if you even consider telling anyone this”, you told Talia immediately. She rolled her eyes as she grinned at you, reaching for the vodka bottle next her shot glass and untwisting the cap. “Thank you”, you sighed.
“Y/N, what’s the story that you won’t let Talia tell us?”, Ethan asked from next to JJ, the two of them breaking out into giggles as soon as you let out a huff. You reached for the closest bottle to you, pouring out a shot and throwing it back straight away.
From then on out, the questions started going downhill. The guys kept it somewhat reined in for Talia, probably out of respect for Simon and knowing how awkward it could end up being with the two of them sat right there. You, though? No ground was left untouched.
Bra size? Asked. Favourite position? Asked. How many one night stands? Asked. Have you ever faked an orgasm? Asked. Ever had an STI? Asked. There were some questions you had to drink to just so they could make it into the video. 
Talia leaned over to Simon, tipsily giggling as she whispered something into his ear.
“Y/N”, Simon stated, setting his eyes on you. “Who’s the best looking out of the Sidemen, in your opinion?”, he asked you.
“Oh, that’s easy”, you shrugged. “Harry”, you answered bluntly. It was only when Talia’s eyes widened slightly that you realised you’d actually said it out loud. You smacked a hand over your mouth quickly. “I didn’t actually mean to say that out loud”, you whispered to Talia.
The guys had broken out into a ruckus behind you, cheering Harry and shoving him around lightly, seemingly amusing Talia and Simon. You were the only one out of the three of you with your back to the boys, and you daren’t turn around now. 
Talia leaned over to you whilst the guys were still poking at Harry. “I only got Simon to ask because Harry hasn’t stopped staring at you since you started drinking”, she whispered to you, sending you a little wink.
“I - er - think it’s about there that we wrap it up”, Simon laughed sheepishly from next to you and Talia. 
You were directed over to the same people who strapped you into your mic to help you out of it. The woman finished fiddling with the microphone on your collar and got you to turn around, bringing you face to face with Harry.
“Oh, hi”, you blushed. He smiled back, seeming surprised you were speaking to him. “I wanted to apologise, I didn’t mean to just blurt that out. I clearly drank quicker than I’m used to”, you laughed awkwardly, reaching up to scratch at your neck nervously.
“Ah, no need”, Harry laughed lightly, scratching at a spot on his upper chest. “You handed the shots really well, if you ask me. Half of how many you drank would have had most of these guys on the floor, it was quite impressive”, he told you with a smile.
“Thank you, I was terrified coming in here that I was going to make a massive fool out of myself”, you admitted.
“It’s part of being on a Sidemen shoot, unfortunately”, Harry chuckled. 
You were both finally released from your microphones and wires, being told you could go on your way by the crew members. Just as you were about to leave, you heard harsh whispers behind you. Turning around, you saw JJ and Ethan both spurring Harry on to do something.
“Uh - er. Before you leave, could I get your number?”, Harry asked quietly, hand returning to the spot on his upper chest.
You smiled, walking over to him and holding out your hand for his phone. “Of course you can”, you told him, typing your information into his contacts. “I better get a text though”, you told him cheekily.
“You can count on it”, he told you, watching as you turned to Talia and linked arms with her before walking out of the studio space.
“I so totally saw that”, she told you, poking at your side with a massive grin plastered across her face.
“Just let me be happy and tipsy, Talia”.
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smolcobie · 3 years
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Hyunjae | Butterfly Effect
↪ Summary: After a dangerous fire, Hyunjae is unable to hide his feelings for you.
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Word Count: 3,5k
Warnings: Suggestive | Fire | Friends To Lovers | Heavy Making Out
Genre: Hyunjae x Reader | HYUNJAE FIREFIGHTER AU | Female Reader
Dedicated to my fav deobi friend @santacruz-sand​ <3
Human beings are known for their daily mistakes. We used to say that every day we make a mistake, some don't make that much difference, others can change the course of your life, better known as the butterfly effect. Each action has its reaction, gradually shaping the path you will take in life.
Some say that this is fate, that no matter how much you try to escape, it will happen. Others prefer to believe that you create your own destiny. I didn't believe in any of these theories, in fact, I always preferred to think that it is easier to do your best every day than to be disappointed by the path you took because you thought that this was your destiny after all.
The greatest example that my theory was real, was seeing how my best friend lived. Every single day he left early, before the sun came up, and came back when it was night. Being a firefighter required perfection in his form, discipline, punctuality, courage to face his fears, and a lot of willingness to risk his own life for the benefit of society.
I watched him cautiously, analyzing his ways and manners. The way he slammed the gate hard to make sure it was locked, or how he sighed and gave a silly smile when he managed to do something he liked, but what I liked most was the way he struggled every day to cheer people's lives.
- ▪︎ -
"[NAME], do your best every day and no one will have the courage to speak ill of the way you live." He said with his red cheeks and heavy eyes from the soju he drank.
"What are you talking about? I live very well, you're the one who lives next to my house and keeps risking your life." I laughed, fixing up his fringe that was messy "You're already starting to get drunk, let's go home." I got up pulling on his shirt and he made a weeping face.
"[NAME], why are you so mean to me?" He said slyly and I lifted him up with all my strength hugging him around the waist "Hyunjae, come on, you need to rest." He sighed and started walking making a pout on his lips.
"Stop pouting, you know you need to rest. You work a lot and when you take a break you want to drink soju and philosophize about life with me." I commented while walking down the dark street.
"But you are my best friend, you have to listen to me." I laughed at his comment "If you paid me I could even quit my job, after all, listening to you is all I do." "That's why I love you." He chuckled and put his head on my shoulder as I opened the door to his house, after entering the password.
"I love you too, so go to sleep." I tossed him on the bed and he smiled happily hugging his soft pillow.
- ▪︎ -
It was almost always like this. Hyunjae coming to my house to vent about life, I laugh while making some cards to post on my Instagram and the company. Being a calligraphy artist was a happy part of my life, being able to decorate bookstores, houses, gifts was something that gave me the strength to live.
Hyunjae was such an essential part of my life, that I only realized when our mutual friend asked why we lived so close to each other. My first thought was to think that it would be easier to go out, have fun and talk. My second thought was that I was completely in love with him, and I didn't want to admit it.
It was complicated, an old love that I knew had no way out, but nothing was going to change because I couldn't find any nice guys. I lived with Hyunjae and I had already accepted my condition. Romance went from something I dreamed of as a teenager, to something I value as an adult, but not as much as my sanity.
It was easier to live with Hyunjae than having to go on blind dates with bizarre guys that our friend Sunwoo arranged (probably from the deep web). And I keep ignoring my feelings, being inspired by its way of life.
That day was more beautiful than usual. The sun was shining brightly, the sky was clear and blue, the traffic seemed calm and the weather was perfect for an outdoor meeting, perhaps a date in the park. The subway was surprisingly empty, although it was very early, and I was completely rested.
It seemed like the perfect working day. I had made many cards at the company, sent some orders by mail, and placed new orders for a major literature event that would take place at the company. Lunch was great and our boss was in a good mood telling stories from when she was in college.
The day had gone well, my colleagues finished their jobs earlier than expected so we were able to go out early and eat fried chicken in a new restaurant near the company. I returned home happy and completely shocked at how perfect my day had been.
I got home and changed my shoes. I took a relaxing bath while listening to the news of the day through my radio hanging from the bathroom sink.
"URGENT NEWS! THERE IS A FIRE IN A BUSINESS BUILDING LOCATED IN THE GANGNAM REGION, MANY ARE THREATENING TO JUMP THROUGH THE WINDOWS. SOURCES CONFIRM THAT THE FIRE STARTED BY THE BAD WIRING THAT HAS NOT BEEN CORRECTLY REPLACED. THE FIREFIGHTERS HAVE JUST ARRIVED AND ARE PREPARING TO RELEASE THE PLACE AND REMOVE SURVIVORS. ”
I immediately turned off the shower, drying myself quickly, putting on any clothes, and going to the living room to turn on the TV and see the news.
All the channels were talking about the fire. It even seemed ironic, as I had a great day, and now a building near my company was on fire, and I had to see desperate people on the TV screen.
My heart stopped and my eyes lit up when I recognized Hyunjae running away with a long sheet and other men helping him from afar. This was apparently what he was supposed to do, try to stay calm and help people in a tragedy that could cost their lives.
“FIREFIGHTERS MOBILIZED QUICKLY AND SURVIVORS ARE GETTING TO THE GROUND SAFELY. THE FIRE HAS BEEN CONTROLLED AND WE HAVE NO NEWS FROM ANY VICTIMS IN SERIOUS STATE UNTIL THE MOMENT-” The woman turned and the cameraman filmed Hyunjae leaving the scene with a woman unconscious in his arms “THIS YOUNG BRAVE MAN REMOVED THE LAST VICTIM FROM THE LOCATION. AMBULANCE HAS ARRIVED AND WILL TREAT EVERYONE IMMEDIATELY. ”
I closed my fists tightly, my mouth dried and my heart sped up. Hyunjae had entered that burning building, risking his life, to save another one.
The fire subsided until it was extinguished. Reporters were still talking about how the police were already investigating everything and how fortunately no lives were lost and the victims had only minor injuries. I sighed with relief and sent a message to Hyunjae, congratulating him, but mostly asking how he was doing.
Me:
[Are you okay? I just saw it all on TV, I'm so worried!]
[I am proud of you, you were amazing.]
[I hope you're all right, send a message when you see this.]
Received.
I sighed and laid down on my bed covering my eyes trying to remember that he was fine.
"Nothing happened."
"Hyunjae is fine. No need to worry."
I was trying to convince myself that he was fine, alive, and doing his job, but my heart couldn't calm down. I decided to take a light tranquilizer and lie down again.
Maybe he would answer me in the morning, I would wait patiently and everything would be fine.
I turned on some drama on TV while I was busy watching cute animals on Youtube to pass the time. After a few hours and having a quick nap, I was surprised by the ringing of my cell phone and saw that it was Hyunjae.
I got up and answered quickly.
“Hyunjae ?! Are you okay? Where are you?" I hurried over and felt him give a tired laugh on the other end of the phone.
“I'm outside your house, please open it for me. It's a little cold here. ” He made a little joke like he always does, maybe, trying to calm my worried mood.
"Okay, I'll be right back." I hung up the phone and ran out to the door.
I opened the door feeling my heart racing, my joints tingling from suddenly getting up and automatically everything calmed down when I saw his face.
He had his bangs glued to his forehead, his face was dirty with some ash. He still had his work uniform on and was holding some bandages probably bought from the pharmacy near our homes.
"I came for you to heal me." He gave a sarcastic smile as I felt relief wash over my entire body.
"Come on, staying in this serene is bad." I pulled him inside, locking the door and putting his usual shoe in the doorway.
"Unfortunately I bought anything I saw at the pharmacy, so I hope you help me, I'm deadly tired." He started talking quietly trying to hide how he was shaken by that night.
"Hyunjae... are you okay?" I asked seeing him sitting on a chair in the kitchen taking off his uniform, leaving only the standard white blouse and pants.
"Yeah." He said dryly biting his lip and looking away. The habit he made when he lied.
"Stop lying to me." I walked towards him crossing my arms “If you were really well, you would have gone home, answered on your cell phone, and slept in peace."
He sighed and looked at me with a look that made my whole body tremble. He looked scared, anxious, but mostly nervous about something.
"What is it?" I touched his cheek and he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning into my hand.
"I almost lost my mind today." He stood up scratching the back of his neck with a choked voice as if he were about to cry.
"What do you mean?" He looked at me so sincerely that I felt my heart soften.
"We were on the traffic patrol when we heard the call." He laughed, but it was sad. "When they said the address, and I realized it was on the same street as your job, I despaired."
My eyes flew open and he sat on the edge of the couch burying his fingers in his dirty, messy hair.
“I thought you could be there and I lost it. When I got there, all I could think about was you.” I approached and realized that in fact, his eyes were watery "I know I should be concerned with other people, but I could only think ‘What if it is her building? What if she is there? What if she is in danger? What if I can't save her?’ And I went into eternal despair.”
I felt my heart racing so fast it could come out of my mouth.
"I-I didn't care if other people were hurt, as long as you were fine..." He looked at me and I felt a huge urge to hold his face "And it scares me. The way I was afraid of losing you and I couldn't think rationally, on the professional side.”
I sat next to him listening to everything he had to say.
"Hyunjae, anyone would feel the same way, you don't have to feel guilty about it." I wiped away his tears and held his cheeks in the palm of my hands "I would have done the same, thinking about you all the time."
He gave a smile sniffing before holding my hands.
"But it's different this time." He said before looking into my eyes with an invisible force that made me nervous "I thought nothing would make sense if I didn't have you by my side."
I took a deep breath trying to follow his argument.
"I don't want to lose you." He whispered as if it were a forbidden confession "You are the most important person in the whole world to me." He touched my cheek with the palm of his hand "You know that, don't you?" He swallowed hard, leaning his forehead against mine.
I took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.
"I know Hyunjae, you are also the most special person for me." I said seeing how he had relaxed a little more "Now get up, you need to take a shower and put bandages on these cuts."
I stood up first, but I felt his hand close to my fist. He was taller than me, not so much, but his body was so strong that it made me feel small around him.
"What? Come on, you're very tired. ” I took the lead before I felt him pulling me again.
"[NAME]." He said hoarsely as I studied his face curiously.
Hyunjae was too different that night.
“What is it Hyunjae? Your face is dirty, you need to take a shower. ” I touched my hips trying to understand what he wanted.
Hyunjae approached pulling my wrist towards him before giving a kiss there.
"Come with me." He said making me petrified on the spot.
"W-WHAT?!" I asked nervously as I felt my heart pound so loudly that I was afraid he might hear "I-That's not funny, Hyunjae."
He released my fist and pulled me by the hip, staring deep into my eyes.
"I'm not kidding." I felt a shiver down my back when he admitted it wasn't a joke or a friend flirt "I got tired of pretending I don't feel anything for you."
I couldn't say anything, I was too shocked to reply.
“[NAME], you are the most important person to me and I don't want to live any longer having to treat you just like a best friend.” He touched my chin and raised my gaze to his “Please, be honest with me. Am I just a best friend to you? ”
I felt his gaze enter my soul and I knew I had no way to lie anymore, this was the only chance I would have to admit what I feel.
"No." I swallowed and stared at his mouth, which formed a small smile of satisfaction.
It was amazing the effect that Hyunjae had on me. Even if I wanted to run away, I wouldn't be able to lie because it was already obvious from the way I act.
"Great." I felt my stomach churn when I felt his left hand hold me tighter as his right landed on my cheek, making his thumb touch my chin, caressing it. "I hope you don't mind this."
"Mind wha—" I could barely finish the question and I felt his lips on mine.
I pulled away unintentionally from the shock and looked into his eyes that seemed to be staring at me with an indescribable fire. I swallowed and felt my heart racing as he just smirked sideways, as if he knew what I was thinking.
He approached me slowly, touching our noses and I closed my eyes feeling his breath warm my face. I felt my face heat up and my palms sweat when his lips brushed against mine again. I held on to his white blouse with the rest of my strength and waited for Hyunjae to close the distance that bothered me so much.
I felt his hand move and his fingers pulled my chin down, opening my mouth that was closed by shock. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding and felt him laugh through his nose before wetting my bottom lip with his tongue lightly, kissing me gently.
I lifted my hands to his hair where I pulled slightly, feeling my back against the bathroom door. Hyunjae took a quick breath, trying desperately to open the bathroom door, trying not to break the kiss.
I opened my eyes after Hyunjae got rid of me, feeling my heart stop at the sight of him focused on trying to open the bathroom door. His face was flushed, but his ears seemed to burn at how red they were. His dark eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was pink and inviting.
"Aish." Hyunjae said finally opening the bathroom making me smile slightly.
I held on to his blouse when I almost tripped over my own rug and Hyunjae grabbed my waist with his arm. He gave me a shy smile before leaning his body against mine, making me even more nervous.
His fingers played with the old buttons on my wool blouse. I held his neck intoxicating myself by his smell invading my senses. I felt a shiver down my spine when his fingers touched my skin gently, as if it were the most expensive porcelain that should be handled with care.
Hyunjae started the shower making me more and more nervous. He pushed me with some force making my back touch the tile on the cold wall of the bathroom. I felt his wet abdomen touching mine and tried to take his shirt off awkwardly making him laugh with amusement.
I looked into his eyes feeling my cheeks flush hard as I held his necklace in my hand. I smirked when I realized it was the gift I had given them for his last birthday. It was a sun necklace that was completed with another necklace, which was mine and was shaped like a moon.
I used to say that he was the sun that lit up my life and that reflected in me. I didn't expect him to wear it every day, because he is so critical of his clothes and his style, so I was surprised when I saw the jewel on his soft, wide collarbone.
"I-I like that necklace." He justified himself by making me smile as I felt my hair gradually get wet from the shower water.
I caressed his cheeks, removing all the dust and ashes from his face. He closed his eyes as I carefully wiped his face by raising my hands to his hair. My stomach churned when I kissed the corner of his jaw and he let out a long breath squeezing my waist.
"I like you." I confessed by kissing his neck, stroking his hair "Really."
"N-Noona." He said slyly in my ear making me smile. He only called me Noona when he was embarrassed "Don't do this to me."
"What?" I asked, acting like I didn't get his thoughts while looking at his beautiful body in front of me. I moved my hands down his chest feeling my whole body softening and looked him in the eyes hoping he understood the message I wanted to convey.
"You know." He responded by pinning me to the wall as he fiddled with the buttons on his pants, leaning his forehead against mine, chuckling through his nose.
I hugged him feeling slightly embarrassed when I felt him take off my bra and toss it on any floor in the bathroom. I closed my eyes tightly as I felt his lips kiss my neck slowly and lovingly.
"[NAME] ..." He sighed and kissed my collarbone "I-I know you like romantic guys, but the last thing I want to do now is to be patient and romantic with you."
I felt my whole body tremble and my thoughts were confused.
"I-Is this okay with you?" He asked suspiciously and I nodded, unable to speak, "Are you sure?"
I just answered him by kissing him again. He returned it immediately, deepening the kiss, holding me in his strong arms.
So, I closed my eyes and just let all those feelings accumulated from so long being satisfied without thinking about anything else.
- ▪︎ -
The truth was that love could come from anywhere, from a friendship for years, from a complete stranger, from a colleague at work or college. There are no limits to define where love should be born.
For Hyunjae and you, it was born out of years of extreme care. An affection that could not be limited by friendship, and by the undeniable attraction you felt for each other. There are people who spend years like this without the courage to declare themselves.
At that moment, a questioning is born within you. What if you hadn't declared yourself that night? What if you had run away? Hyunjae would probably walk away and leave your house feeling his heart broken. You weren't going to have the happy ending you wanted, and you could probably lose a precious friendship.
Ultimately, the butterfly effect has been proven and you should admit that your best 'mistake' was to have overcome your fear and admitted your senses. His best 'mistake' was sleeping with his best friend.
The question that remains is: Was that your destiny, or just the butterfly effect?
Ultimately, none of that mattered, because you both loved each other deeply.
▪︎
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MASTERLIST
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itsthestutterforme · 3 years
Text
Second Chances (Jang Hanseok)
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Summary: Hanseok was spiraling and was starting to get paranoid as Vincenzo's plan began to unravel. Y/N, his best friend, gets hurt because of him and he never forgives himself.
Characters: Vincenzo x nurse!reader (platonic) Hanseo x nurse!reader (platonic), Hanseok x nurse!reader (platonic)
Requested by @letsnotcrytoday
--
Sighing as you rest your head on the steering wheel, your phone chimed. You just finished your 12 hour shift in the hospital as a nurse and you felt tractor trailer ran over you. A scolding hot bath, a vibrating pad and a foot massage from Hanseok sounds like heaven right about now.
Speaking of Hanseok, he's been very distant lately. You've been best friends since junior high and you know each other like the back of your hands. But you haven't seen him so closed off before. It's almost as if he doesn't know who to trust. And it makes you wonder how he became that way.
Without pulling away from the steering wheel, you reach into your bag and take out your phone. You glance over at the phone to see a text from Hanseo saying, "He-." That's odd. Hanseo has been just as distant as Hanseok. Something doesnt feel fight. Was he trying to say "Help?"
You drive to Hanseo's office first but they said that he was out for the day. Then you drove to Hanseo's house and your heart bangs in your chest when you look through the window.
You see Hanseok walking around the house with a gun and Hanseo tied up in front of him. He looks to be bleeding from his head. There are two other people there, a woman and a man.
You don't want to see Jang Hanseok go to jail. He's not a bad man, he just made mistakes that led him down a terrible road. Your heart was shattered to pieces when you visited him in jail and saw him in those awful, beige jail clothes.
You can't see him there again. You grab your first aid kit from your glove box and shove it into your purse.
You slowly walk into the house and open the door, careful not to make any noise. You walk into the living room when you heard three gun shots. "Oh my God, Hanseok, what you-."
Another gun shot rings in your ears and a sharp pain struck your hand. You fall to the floor and cradle your hand against your chest to see a gaping hole in your palm.
Taking deep breaths, you look around the room to see the woman with a gun shot wound in her shoulder and Hanseo with multiple wounds in his chest. If you don't patch those up soon, he won't make it. You finally look up to see Hanseok looking at you with wide eyes. "Y/N, what are you doing here!"
The other man stands up and Hanseok pulls the trigger once again but the gun exerted a soft click. Hanseok looks at you with guilt and anger as the man rush toward him. Hanseok jumps off of the balcony and disappears. A soft whimper left your lips as blood spills from your hand and on to the floor.
You take some cloth from your purse and wrap your hand tightly to prevent any more blood loss. You wince as the pain intensifies and make your way to Hanseo, where the man was kneeling. "Can you help him?" He asks.
"I can try. Did you already call the ambulance?" "Yes," "Okay." You unbutton his shirt to get a better look at his wounds. He has a total of three wounds, luckily there are three people here.
You open the first aid kit and pressed gauze to his wounds, making him wince. "I'm alright," Hanseo says weakly. "No, you're not." You snap, angry at Hanseok for doing this to his brother. "I'm sorry, I j-" His hand comes up to touch your cheek. "You two were more like siblings to me than he was." He says.
"Stop talking and save your strength. Apply pressure to this one." You tell the man. "Miss, I know you're hurt but can you use the other arm to put pressure on his wounds? I'll tend to yours in a minute." You add. "Y/N, please. Let it run it's course." "No, I won't. You're going to live, you hear me?" you say, blinking away the years forming in your eyes.
"I don't want to live in fear anymore. I did good, right? Please tell me I did good." "You're going amazing, Han seo. I'm so proud of you." "P-proud?" More tears escape your eyes as you ease the pressure of his wounds and uncap 5 milligrams of morphine. You inject him with it and he sighs softly. "This should ease the pain enough for him.." you trail off.
"I'm so sorry, Han seo." You add, taking his hand into both of yours. He takes his last breath as you press a kiss to his forehead. Shaky breathes leave your lips and you wrap your arms around him. "I'm sorry for your loss, but can you please help my friend?" The man asks.
Wiping away your tears, you nod and made your way over to the woman.
**
It's 2 A.M. It's been five hours since you came home from the hospital and you didn't get a lick of sleep. What happened at Hanseo's house replays in your mind like some reoccurring nightmare. You wish it was a nightmare. One of your bestfriends was shot a killed by your other best friend.
Sniffling from crying about Hanseo's passing, you blow your nose a few times. That was when you hear a soft clank in your kitchen. Your nose flares with annoyance.
Whoever broke into your home was one unlucky son of bitch. You're feeling everyone emotion besides fear and you have a locked and loaded pistol in your drawer.
Taking the pistol into your hand, you take the safety off and slowly walk down the stairs. You lean your back against the wall next to the kitchen. "Whoever you are, you have five seconds to get the hell out or I'm putting five bullets in you." "Y/N?" You hear Hanseok say.
You step away from the wall and aim your gun at him, not caring about the searing pain of your hand wound opening up again. "Get the hell out," "Y/N, please. I.. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of thi-" "That was your brother, Hanseok! Your blood! And you killed him, because of what!"
"I had no choice! Vincenzo threatened to kill you if I didn't." You were at a loss for words. "Don't. Please don't turn your back on me. The whole world can but the minute that you do, then I'm a lost cause." He says, making your heart lurch in your chest.
You weren't aware that he was stepping closer to you until his hands were taking the gun out of yours. Putting on the safety, he tosses the gun on the couch. His gaze fixes on the gauze wrapped around your right hand. You put your hand behind your back. "It doesn't hurt that bad," you lie.
Still unsure of whether to believe him, you thought that it was best to sleep on it and talk to him about it in the morning. Your brain was physical exhausted from work and recent events.
"You can see yourself out," you add before turning around to go back to your room. He grabs your uninjured hand and pulled you into his chest. "You could have died, and it would have been at my hand. I'll never forgive myself for that." You chose not to say anything and listened to his heart racing in his chest.
"I didn't know it was you. My body reacted before my mind could register... I know you're pissed at me but please don't lose faith in me." He adds. "What were you thinking!" You push him away from you and slap him across the face. It wasn't until you heard a faint rip of your stitches that you realized it was with the injured hand.
A shriek of pain leaves your lips and you fall to floor, cradling your hand. He kneels down next to you and you both watch as blood seeps through the bandage. "Where's your first aid kit?" He asks. "Bathroom." Without a second thought, he lifts your into his hands and carries you into the bathroom.
He sets you on the counter and sets the first aid kit on the toilet lid. Slowly peeling off the gauze, he winces when he sees the wound. Guilt weighs on his eyes and he cleans around the wound on both sides before putting an antifungal cream.
He puts a large piece of gauze on both sides of the hand and uses a new wrap to intricately wrap the hand between each finger and the entire wrist.
He tucks away the loose end of the wrap and we both sigh in unison. "We have to get out of the country," "What the hell did you get yourself into, Hanseok? Why didn't you tell me sooner, I could have helped you." "No, you couldn't." He walks out of the bathroom and you jump off the counter to follow him until you heard him scream.
"Hanseok!" You rush out of the bathroom but a hand clamped around your mouth and felt a sharp prick on the side of your neck. You drop to the ground as black wisps cloud your vision and the last thing you saw was Hanseok being dragged away.
**
Gasping for you breath, you find yourself laying in your bed. What the hell? Was last night a dream? You look at your hand and remember Hanseok wrapping it after pulling your stiches. It wasn't a dream. Someone took Jang Hanseok.
You stand up from the bed and reach for your phone. You thought of Hanseo saying that he our a tracker in his brother's watches. You thought he was crazy but now you couldn't help but to thank him. You look up to the ceiling and say, "I'll make sure you get the justice you deserve, Hanseo."
Following the GPS, you stop in the middle of traffic when you see the man from Hanseo's apartment leaving the warehouse that the GPS led you. "He's the one that forced Hanseok to kill his own brother." You say to yourself. Your blood runs cold in your veins when you see blood splattered on his face and clothes.
Horns honk at you and you park on the side of the road and waited for the man to leave. You rush into the gravel road to park the car. Running as fast your legs can take you, you follow Hanseok's screams to a large room of the abandoned warehouse.
He's connected to some weird torture device that looks automatic. There is a drill that looks to be a half an inch inside his chest cavity. "Oh God," you say. "Y/N," he says weakly and you had sudden flashbacks to Hanseo dying. You couldn't loose another one, you refuse to.
You pull out a knife and pop open the circuit of the device and you cut the red wire which prevents the device from functioning. You're so glad you took that programming class in college.
You stick the sharp end into the crease and pushed the drill out of the device so it would stay in his chest. If you took out the drill now, he would bleed out in seconds.
What kind of monster would do this to another human being? You pull him to his feet and walk him down the stairs to get to the car. "Stay with me okay?" You say when you notice his eyes starting to close his eyes.
He looked terrible. His eyes looked sunken, his skin looked pale and lifeless and his lips were blood stained. When you find this guy, you're going to tear him a new one.
Going 80 on the highway, you were at the hospital in a blink of an eye. "Help! Someone help me please!" You yell as you drag him into the ER.
"Y/N, what happened to him?" Your coworker asked. You wait until he is on the gurney to say, "Someone was torturing him with a drill." You say flatly.
"What kind of sicko does that?" When you don't respond, she adds, "Right, sorry. Not time for jokes. I'll keep you posted." You nod and watch as she accompanies a doctor's taking him to the surgery floor.
Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.
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shatouto · 4 years
Note
YOUR BABY VADER IS SO GOOD I NEED TO GIVE HIM ALL THE HUGS. please tell me he gets like. a weighted blanket or soft clothes. or! or! or! anakin and obi-wan go to the market because nobody knows that anakin was vader, and anakin gets some nice clothes in pretty colors and theyre very soft and he gets some ingredients for cooking and droid parts to play with and everything is nice and good for him
GOSH thank you!!! aww i love that idea sO MUCH just reading your prompt makes me feel warm fuzzy inside. im not sure which baby vader you’re referring to (because there are so many of them in my wips and i love it) but i’ll assume this is the au ive been writing with @obiwanobi. so pls enjoy this near 2k of tooth-rotting fluff; i took some liberties
who likes sweet things
The clinic smells like bacta, as clinics do. But instead of sterile durasteel walls, the floors are carpeted and the walls are painted and the windows are curtained and everything is multicolored and joyful. Across from Anakin sits a healer - a kindly woman, very small in stature, with large, gentle eyes, wispy hair and pointed ears. She chats happily with Obi-Wan while working in tandem with the medical droid to secure the prosthetic to Anakin’s elbow.
“...disheartening, isn’t it?” She chirps, her three-fingered hands deftly fastening bolts around the cap and manipulating the droid to screw down the simple plating. “I can’t count the number of innocent civilians who have come here to fit a new limb. Just last week, I constructed an entire exoskeleton for this young lady. Poor girl, so young.”
“That is so good of you. I am glad for the young lady to find you. She came to the right place.” Obi-Wan smiles. “Those of us who have some sense all know Healer Saada’s prostheses are of the highest quality in all of Coruscant.”
“Ah, young man. Flattery gets you nowhere. Have you learned nothing as a youngling?” Saada shakes her head at the Jedi, then turns her great eyes to Anakin, ears perking. “And you. You’re a rather quiet boy, aren’t you?”
Anakin presses his lips into a tight, blanched line. This woman may not be a Jedi any longer, but she is not Force-blind. He glances to Obi-Wan, breaths bated.
Obi-Wan rests a hand on his shoulder. “He’s quite shy, Healer Saada. Please do not worry.”
“Oh, poor thing.” The healer hops onto a moving droid. It rolls towards the counter, where she sorts out some bottles while asking, seemingly in an absent-minded manner, “Where did he come from?”
Anakin catches his gaze the moment Obi-Wan looks at him. Obi-Wan parts his lips, as if ready to lie.
“Tatooine,” Anakin mutters.
Astonishment freezes across Obi-Wan’s face, and Anakin turns away. The admission isn’t for her, though he supposes he doesn’t mind her knowing. She’s just a person. She doesn’t even know his name, or what he has done, or what the dead Sith Lord has made Anakin do to earn his demise. Obi-Wan does.
“So far away!” the healer comments lightly, turning around with a soft smile. “What a great trip you must have made.”
“Indeed he did. He lives here now,” Obi-Wan clarifies. Anakin opens his hand, and the healer places a stretchy ball in it. She instructs him to practice squeezing it to get used to the new artificial limb, before sending them off.
They exit the clinic and out under a vast starlit sky. Gentle winds whirl overhead as they climb into their speeder, heading for the usual park where Anakin takes his walk. The night has gotten cold, yet the darkness is unusually diluted. As they pass by downtown, music wafts up alongside the scent of butter and frying oil. Anakin looks down to see a sea of lights over a town square, and colorful awnings draped over kiosks of all sorts. There seem to be many people there, eating, laughing, hand in hand. He eyes them closely, fingers tightening on the side door of the speeder.
“It’s a celebration, Anakin,” Obi-Wan supplies, as they come to a stoplight. Anakin turns around, and his heartbeat ratchets up when Obi-Wan reaches over to brush a lock of hair from his forehead.
“What are they celebrating?”
“Harvest season. It’s an old tradition, I’ll give you that. Coruscant barely has a greenhouse on it, let alone agricultural land.” Obi-Wan chuckles, then quiets down into a thoughtful smile. “Though I suppose the election result is as good of an occasion to celebrate as any.”
“Election?” Anakin asks, just as they pass by a great billboard with the face of a brown-haired, brown-eyed woman in a night-purple cape. The speeder is going slow enough for him to decipher the words written beneath it. Obi-Wan keeps saying he’s a fast learner, so he tries to read at every turn. “Chancellor… A-Ame…” He frowns. “Amidala?”
“Very good, Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s eyes crinkle at him for a second before returning to the path ahead. “Padmé Amidala is the new Chancellor now. It was a rather close call. She is well-loved by many people, but not quite so in the Senate.”
Half of those words mean almost nothing to Anakin. “Why?”
“Well,” Obi-Wan hums. “One could say the Senate hasn’t been loving its people so much, in a while.”
Obi-Wan grows pensive, as he oft does. The faint, warm light from below and the cool starlight from beyond color him in an otherworldly tint. His profile is startlingly delicate, from the slope of his nose to the soft fluff of his whiskers and beard. Even the flutter of his lashes is graceful. Then Anakin remembers he shouldn’t stare. His eyes strays towards the bright lights and jovial music beneath.
“...But I am hardly brave enough for politics,” Obi-Wan muses, after a stretch of silence. When he looks Anakin’s way it is with some tiredness in his small smile. “Say, Anakin. How would you like to stop by the night market, for a change?”
They lower their altitude as soon as Anakin nods his agreement. Obi-Wan parks their speeder, draws up Anakin’s hood, and takes his right hand. Anakin’s synthetic nerves light up, even though it’s only enough transmission for him to feel touch and not warmth, it being a very standard model of prosthetic. His face warms up under the hood of his cloak. He’s glad Obi-Wan doesn’t notice.
They let themselves be carried by the stream of the crowd, of parents jogging after excitable children toddling about with sweetmeats in their hands, sugar on their cheeks; of young couples, one’s arm around the other’s waist, sharing bites of fluffy sweet bread or sips of mulled wine. Light shines golden and amber through bottles of syrup and jars of honey, glitters on the crystal sugar and drizzled glaze on heaps of candies in open boxes. The smell is divine whenever they pass by a warm stall with steam bannering overhead.
Anakin shivers lightly, even though the crowd blocks most of the winds. Obi-Wan tugs at his hand. “Let’s get you something warm.”
He follows Obi-Wan. A paper cup is pressed into his hand, ample and warm against his skin. The drink smells and tastes sweet with a note of toasted bitterness, the texture creamy and rich on his tongue. There are floating white chunks of some sort of confectionery in there.
“What’s this?”
“Hot chocolate.” Obi-Wan raises his identical cup and touches it to Anakin’s. “Do you like it?”
”Yes,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan’s smile warms his belly more than any hot drink.
They continue on their path, still a straight line from one end of the market to another. Anakin’s wide eyes travel from stand to stand: here a string of patchwork puppets, there a counter of carved wooden figures; and perfume vials, colorful figures (“It’s artisan soap, Anakin”), bouquets of everlasting tissue flowers tied in silk ribbons. There are clothes: soft robes in various colors, touted as “warm in winter and breezy in summer,” per the merchants; tunics with blossoming patterns embroidered at the collars or sleeve hems. There are kiosks of datatapes, illustrated by sparkling holograms of a High Republic castle, or a great speeder model, or even some holodrama character whose name Anakin can’t remember.
And then a booth takes his breath away. Glimmering under the light are shelves after shelves of mini household droids, custom-made transmitters, and a variety of artfully wired core processors. Replacement parts bathe in the blue glow of holograms depicting the corresponding droid models; and below all of this is a row of toolboxes of gleaming silver and shiny ivory, even iridescent inlays of mother-of-pearl. The booth seems to be one of a kind in the vast entirety of the market.
Anakin stands, transfixed. His fingers itch, and one of the tools begins to quiver and lift into the air, unbeknownst to the seller who has his back to it. He wants it. The thing will be his.
“Anakin? Anakin!” Obi-Wan’s hushed voice rustles by his ear, jolting him back to his senses.
The tool drops down with a small clang, barely audible in the noises of the festivity. Fear bursts coldly in Anakin’s chest - he shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t, his Master would be very unhappy if he found out his young foolish apprentice had tried to waste his time playing with droids again. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, bowing his head, even as Obi-Wan squeezes his hand.
“Do you want that?” Obi-Wan asks, softly.
Anakin peeks up. The empty paper cup is still slightly warm in his hand, and he crushes it absentmindedly, tightening and loosening his fingers just to have something to do. “I, uh…”
Obi-Wan’s hand covers his own, gently prying the crushed paper cup out from the curl of his fingers. “I would love to get it for you, if you want it. It’s the toolbox on the bottom shelf, second from the left, isn’t it?”
The light on Obi-Wan’s smile is a honeyed gold, pooling stars into his eyes, and Anakin is transfixed again, not quite by the tinkering booth this time. He looks down as his face warms and his heart still pounds hard, and slowly he nods.
They come back to Obi-Wan’s quarters with a small armful: a new set of robes in muted, ashen pink; a box of tools with carved handles that are probably more fancy than they need to be, but still practical enough; a new array of spices and condiments; and a great tin of “absolutely decadent powder for drinking chocolate, Anakin, I can’t believe I let you persuade me into buying this.”
“You are the one who likes sweet things,” Anakin counters, arranging the new addition into their pantry. Obi-Wan laughs aloud by his side.
“Now how could you possibly know that?”
“I cook. I know that.” Anakin shrugs, and admits, “...and Ahsoka said so.”
Obi-Wan’s brows shoot up. He’s quiet for a few seconds, but the wide smile that follows only seems all the more brighter for it. “Best friends now, aren’t you?”
“No,” Anakin huffs and closes the pantry door. He doesn’t say more. Ahsoka gave him her old voicebook plug-in and lent him her comics; in exchange, he would pack her this spicy meat stew whenever she needed to leave for some time. They struck a fair deal, is all.
Obi-Wan doesn’t say more, either. They settle on the couch, Anakin almost rushing to fish out the toolbox from its paper bag. Finally having two hands to work with again, he examines it with zeal. It’s a good set of tools, he knows it; he hasn’t been allowed to touch these things for years, but he still knows. It’s in his blood. He can still wire standard circuit boards for protocol droids (the slightly outdated type) with his eyes closed; can definitely assemble a cleaning-type mouse droid from scratch if he’s allowed to scavenge for parts. He smiles down at the lacquered handles and the durasteel glint, picking up and balancing each microscrew, each hexagonal wrench, each tiny plier.
“...I hope it was enjoyable for you,” Obi-Wan speaks up, all of a sudden.
Anakin turns to him, not bothering to wipe off his smile. “It was.” He chews on the inside of his cheeks. “I’ve never had so many things. Thank you.”
Obi-Wan studies him for a long moment, more intent than he ever did. By the look on his face, Anakin expects him to say many things, but he doesn’t. He just pats Anakin’s elbow, where the prosthetic is joined, and murmurs, “You’re welcome.” His eyes have a moist sheen to them, smiling though he is.
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Text
Nobody asked for this but I'm gonna do it anyways...
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Fluff Alphabet: Takeru/Aguni Edition
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A = Attractive what do they find attractive about the other?
Takeru: only reason he let Aguni wear regular clothes and not swimwear is because he saw ARM in that tank top and was like "oh damn okay 😳." So, y'know, that. (And he'll never admit it but he kinda likes how Aguni is a little bit taller than he is....) Also likes that Aguni has a really dry, deadpan sense of humor—he ways finds a way to make Takeru laugh, even when he's not really trying.
Aguni: I think the physical aspect of things wasn't really a make-or-break for him at first—like, yeah, Takeru's a good-looking guy, but that's secondary. He liked how Takeru is such a live-wire, very loud and colorful and seemingly fearless, no matter what kind of trouble they got into. (But also...he likes the hair. That's a thing for him.)
B = Baby do they want a family? why/why not?
Takeru: If they end up with one somehow, then, sure. But, like. He's not going out of his was to make it a thing. (But also, he has his cat, Ziggy, who he calls his baby, so...)
Aguni: Would secretly love to be a dad but is too worried he might mess the kid up or something. Is more than happy to be 'unofficial parent' to the neighborhood kids, though. Handing out ice pops to the kids that show up at the shop, keeping an eye out and telling them to get home before dark, maybe even showing one or two of them how to throw a better curveball...you know. Real Hallmark channel shit. (And yes, for those who were wondering: Ziggy the cat loves him and often curls up on his lap while he watches TV)
C = Cuddle how do they cuddle?
They don't really "cuddle" outside of bed. Just kinda sit next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, no big deal. But in bed, Aguni lies on his back with his arm sorta outstretched while Takeru...well, my man is worm on a string but OFF the string, he just flops all sorts of ways and a lot of them don't look comfortable but he falls asleep in minutes so whatever.
D = Dates what are dates with them like?
I don't think they do "dates"—they've got a long-term thing going on, so they often end up on the couch eating takeout and watching movies. I think they'd go to the movie theater sometimes (and talk shit for the entire film lol) and every once in a while grab dinner somewhere nice...but, usually because they have some cool limited-time-only dessert item that Takeru insists they try. (And Aguni pretends to be upset about having to get dressed up and go out, but is actually rather pleased to have a little romance...and get something to satisfy his sweet tooth.)
E = Everything you are my ____ (e.g my life, my world…)
Aguni: Emergency Medical Contact
Takeru: Co-Signer On The Apartment Lease
F = Feelings when did they know they were falling in love?
Takeru: About a week after Aguni (drunkenly) confessed his crush. Literally spent a whole week like, "Wow, it's a shame I don't love him back. He's so kind and handsome and smart and funny...too bad, I guess..." until one night he sat up straight in bed and said "Hold up." He then immediately called Aguni and began demanding why Aguni didn't tell him he was in love with him this whole time.
Aguni: They had been friends since they were kids, so it's hard to say when his feelings went from "you're my best friend" to something different. But, once he figured it out, he swore never to mention it because that could complicate their friendship.
G = Gentle are they gentle? If so, how?
Takeru: Yes and no. He's got a bad case of "grabby hands" and often yanks Aguni to and fro to look at something or whatever. Just zero respect for the man's personal space. But otherwise...I imagine he's not particularly rough or gentle, just kind of normal. EXCEPT when it comes to the emotional stuff—like, the real heavy things. I think he's very gentle with that, not asking too many questions and just sort of taking care of him where he can.
Aguni: Generally gentle—physically, emotionally, whatever. But I do think that he's confrontational, like when there's an issue, he comes straight out and asks Takeru what's going on. Even corners him, sometimes. He seems like a "no bullshit" guy, and since Takeru is "Mr. 99% Bullshit" he's gotta deal with it as best he can.
H = Hand/Hold how do they like to hold hands?
The only time they "hold hands" is when Takeru is grabbing Aguni's wrist to drag him somewhere (or run away lol) and when Aguni is pulling Takeru's hand back to stop him from touching something...
I = Impression first impression/s
I headcanon that they met very young, like grade school age. After school, in the park, where Takeru was chilling in a tree and Aguni walked by and he was like "Hey, there's a spider up here, wanna see?" and Aguni is like "Not really, I don't like bugs..." Now, Takeru, being "weird bug kid extraordinaire" can't believe his strange little ears and hops down from the tree and starts explaining why bugs are so cool and that Aguni is wrong...and Aguni listens as this funky, tiny firecracker just talks his damn ear off. Aguni liked how excited Takeru got about things, and Takeru liked how Aguni actually listened to him. And they were fast friends after that!
J = Joker are they into pulling pranks?
Takeru fucks around all the time...and doesn't often find out, because Aguni tolerates all his antics. (To a certain point, but still.) Every once in a while, Aguni will tell some harmless little lie just to watch Takeru freak out—he told him once that Lady Gaga was leaving the music scene forever, and Takeru screamed so loud the neighbors filed a noise complaint.
K = Kisses how do they kiss?
I think they most often do quick pecks—at the breakfast table, when they get home from work. You know. Domestic stuff. But when it's not like that...I think 9/10 times it's Takeru initiating, and Aguni reciprocates by wrapping his arms around him in a big hug (because he likes it but also to keep that skinny little weirdo from wiggling so damn much, he's always moving, he can't just be still—)
L = Love who says I love you first?
Neither! I don't think they really say it at all! Why say something that doesn't need to be said? (At least, that's how they see it...)
M = Memory their favorite moment together
Aguni: It's not really a memory, but...just how they have breakfast together some mornings. Sipping coffee, discussing whatever's going on in the world, the general "togetherness" that comes with it is one of his favorite feelings.
Takeru: The time they spent a full 24 hours in a karaoke booth singing 80's hits and knocking back tequila shots and ordering way too much food.
N = Nickel do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?
Takeru: Absolutely buys stuff for Aguni all the time. Mostly random snacks, or little knick-knacks that catch his eye. And also clothes, but...Aguni doesn't always approve.
Aguni: Doesn't buy Takeru stuff BUT leaves vases of flowers he grew on the table for Takeru to find.
O = Orange what color reminds them of their other half
Anything bright and obnoxious reminds Aguni of Takeru—red in particular, which also happens to be Takeru's favorite. And Takeru thinks Aguni has calm and soothing blue-green vibes. Like the ocean, beautiful and serene, but also dark and capable of incredible destruction.
P = Petnames what pet names do they use?
Takeru: All of them. Darling, babe, sweetheart (but he calls everyone those lol). Aguni-specific ones are always over-the-top and ridiculous like "brightest star in all of the heavens..." and he always gets an eye-roll for his efforts.
Aguni: Absolutely does not use pet names. Just says "hey you" or something. Once called Takeru "babe" and Takeru had to stop washing dishes and sit down because he was laughing so hard.
Q = Quaint what is their favorite non-modern thing?
Takeru: I feel like he would collect a ton of vintage stuff—clothes, records, just random little bits and bobs he comes across. But his favorite is definitely his record player—it belonged to his dad, and he keeps it in a place of honor in the hat shop.
Aguni: A set of very old and well-cared-for gardening tools. Takeru got them for him for his birthday, and he legit treasures them.
R = Rainy Day what do they like to do on a rainy day?
Lay on the couch and do literally nothing. Takeru gets the left end, Aguni takes the right, and they binge trash TV shows all day. (And also they make box-mix brownies and eat them straight out of the pan. It's "their thing.")
S = Sad how do they cheer themselves/each other up
Takeru: Aside from all his self-destrictive behaviors (binge-drinking, dangerous situations, etc.) he just really needs a good laugh. And Aguni somehow always manages to make him laugh with an unexpected, deadpan comment. Also, he makes Takeru actually talk through his problems instead of ignoring them...
Aguni: if he's in a bad mood, you just need to let him work through it on his own. He hates being "talked down to" and feels that most attempts at cheering up are cheap, so most people don't attempt. Buf...Takeru is not "most people" and breaks out his most ridiculous jokes to try to get Aguni to crack a smile.
T = Talking what do they love to talk about?
Other people! You know Takeru is the "XOXO Gossip Girl" of the neighborhood, but Aguni...he's like a little old church lady and ADORES hearing all the latest drama.
U = Unencumbered What helps them relax?
Both of them have the same method of relaxation and it's...bubble baths! Aguni does a basic, skin soothing soak and just hangs out in the warm water with a book or maybe just his thoughts to keep him company. But Takeru? He's got some fancy bath soaps, and he takes in a glass of wine and lights a few candles and does a face mask and it's a whole EVENT.
V - Very thoughts about each other
Takeru: Thinks Aguni needs to loosen up and take more risks...but also just loves the guy to pieces.
Aguni: Kinda wishes Takeru would calm tf down sometimes...but also knows that it's just how the guy is and wouldn't dare change him.
W = Wedding when, how, where do they propose?
They're not really the marrying type! They just have a mutual understanding of commitment and that's that.
(But if they did have a wedding... I think it would be a relatively small affair with all their closest friends and family. Like a dinner party, but somewhere extra nice and with lots of good food and alcohol. Intimate and meaningful, with just enough "extra" to satisfy Takeru.)
X = Xylophone What’s their song?
"Total Eclipse of the Heart" because they hid out in a karaoke booth (different from the 24-hour event that Takeru cherishes so much) to es ape the Yakuza and Takeru sang it over and over to pass the time.
Y = You the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)
"Breaking" to my "Entering." The "Assault" to my "Battery." (They both hate this sort of thing and try to come up with the worst answers possible lol)
Z = Zebra if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?
They already have the cat, Ziggy, who is their perfect little angel.
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kwanisms · 3 years
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To the Sky 02: the Anniversary
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⤑ genre: angst, fluff, smut, steampunk au, sky pirate!Ateez, ateez au ⤑ pairing: Seonghwa x OC ⤑ warning: strong language, alcohol consumption, mentions of: death and religious cults ⤑ summary: Living in the Sky is not always easy, especially when you have a religious sect policing everything you do. One florist, Bang Min-ah, has always dreamed of life outside Arcadia. Little does she know she’s about to find out how very different life is when a group of sky pirates accidentally kidnap her. ⤑ word count: 11.1k (we getting long parts again lmao)
a/n: sorry it’s taken so long to post this, i wanted to hit my goal word count and it’s taken a lot of extra world building to achieve that but chapter two is finally here! and with it comes all the excitement! the pirates have entered the story and everything from here on out changes. as always, thank you for reading! 
✙ series masterlist ✙ previous || next
“This indicates the character is speaking in Korean.” “This indicates the character is speaking in English.” ‘This indicates the character is thinking.’
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January 02, NY 263 Morndas, 09:01 Arcadia, Min-ah
“Remind me again why we’re going through with this?” Min-ho hissed as Min-ah walked him through the crowded morning market, a singular destination set in her mind. The sun had already started rising and bathed half the plaza in golden light. On the opposite side of the plaza from where the siblings entered stood a grand building.
“We’ve been over this,” Min-ah said, glancing over her shoulder before darting through a break in the crowd, Min-ho struggling to keep up. “Yes,” Min-ho stated as he kept close on his sister’s tail. “But remind me again,” he added as she stopped, staring up at the building in front of her. Min-ho followed her gaze, eyes widening in realization.
“Oh no,” he whispered, turning to give her a horrified look. She was already smiling at him. Before he could protest further, Min-ah grabbed his arm, dragging him toward the front doors of the Arcadia Historical Archives. She opened the door and shoved him in roughly, following after him.
Inside the door, the siblings were met with the entrance hall of the library, a hallway that wrapped almost all the way around the main room which was large and round. Tall windows stretched from the mezzanine to the base of the domed ceiling, allowing in tons of natural light. 
Sat just inside the round room was the main desk, behind which sat a beautiful young woman with golden blonde hair pulled up into an elegant up-do. She wore an ivory pleated blouse with long sleeves tucked into a floor length gold skirt, a thick black belt at her waist, and a pair of brown heeled boots.
She glanced up as Min-ah and Min-ho walked in, sporting thin wire-rimmed glasses. A look of recognition passed over her face, a smile spreading across her face as she stood up and walked around the desk to greet them. “Good morning, Min-ah,” she said, bowing slightly before looking at Min-ho. “Min-ho,” she added with a nod of her head.
Min-ah glanced out of the corner of her eye as her brother blushed slightly under the woman’s gaze. “Amelia,” he replied as she turned to face Min-ah. “What can I help you with?” she asked. Min-ah smiled at her warmly. “Your Korean has improved, Amelia,” she said and the woman, Amelia, smiled wider. “I’ve been practicing,” she said simply. “What can I help you with?” she asked again.
“Well,” Min-ah started but Min-ho interrupted her. “I need a few books,” he said, drawing attention away from Min-ah and to himself. Amelia’s warm brown eyes locked with his. “What subject are you looking for?” she asked. Min-ah glanced from Amelia to her brother and could tell he was about to falter but was surprised to see him take charge. “G-gardening!” he stammered.
Min-ah, who hadn’t been looking directly at Min-ho, turned her head and stared at him incredulously from behind Amelia’s back. “Really?” she mouthed at him. Amelia seemed not to find his answer the least bit suspicious or weird because she instead smiled wider and beckoned the two to follow her. 
She led the siblings up the nearest steps up to the mezzanine. Min-ah led the way as they followed Amelia along the mezzanine and to an empty table. She gestured for them to take a seat. “What sort of gardening books would you like?” she asked. Min-ah held back a smirk as she looked at her brother, wondering what sort of lie he was about to give the librarian.
“Vegetables,” Min-ho said after staring wide-eyed at his sister. Min-ah’s smirk dropped as she stared at him. “Vegetables?” Amelia asked, not sure she heard him correctly. “Yes,” Min-ho said with more confidence. “Vegetables. The one topic my sister doesn’t have much knowledge on,” he said, looking from Amelia to Min-ah and back. Amelia nodded and turned to peruse the books she had on vegetable gardening. Min-ah leaned forward, having sat next to Min-ho, and slapped him upside the head.
“Vegetable gardening? Are you kidding me?” she hissed. Min-ho leaned forward in his own seat. “You brought me here!” he hissed. “Had I known this was your plan all along, I never would have agreed to come out with you!” he added. Min-ah sat back in her seat. “That’s because you’re too scared to talk to her on your own!” she whispered. Min-ho narrowed his eyes at her. “Am not,” he replied.
Min-ah scoffed. “How mature of you,” she said as Amelia returned with a stack of books. Min-ah nodded at her and Min-ho turned to look over his shoulder. He got quickly to his feet to help Amelia with the books, bringing them to the table. “Thank you,” Amelia said breathlessly as she took a seat next to Min-ho’s spot. He returned to his chair, glancing wide eyed at Min-ah who nodded pointedly as Amelia opened one of the books.
Min-ah stood, walking around the table to look at the books Amelia had selected. She glanced from the books to her brother and the librarian, a small smile forming as she watched the two look over the books. She decided to have a look around, stating she would be right back. She headed away from the table, walking through the aisles of books. While passing an opening in the shelves, she glanced to the side and saw a somewhat taller man with blackish-brown hair.
He wore black leather pants, a loose tunic with a brown vest and a blue and gold brocade coat. He held in his hands a heavy volume. He turned to speak to a man Min-ah couldn’t see. A smile crept over his face as he opened the volume and said something to whomever he was speaking to. Min-ah watched as another man walked out from behind the shelves.
He had light brown hair and wore a white collared tunic with a golden vest and brown leather pants. He too carried a book in his hands, a wide smile on his face. He walked over to where the other man stood and together they looked at the pages of their books. Min-ah watched them for a few more minutes, watching as the darker-haired man walked away, disappearing behind the shelves and leaving the fair-haired man alone. 
He glanced over the pages of the book he carried, before he turned to say something to his friend, snapping the book shut and leaning against the railing of the mezzanine. He laughed at something his friend said before he turned and looked over the downstairs area of the library before his eyes landed on Min-ah. The two stared at one another for a moment. Min-ah felt her heart beat wildly against her ribcage, her breathing speeding up as she stared at the man.
Tearing her gaze away, Min-ah turned around and ducked behind a shelf and out of the man’s view. She took several deep breaths before returning to check on Min-ho and Amelia. Peering around a shelf, she saw they were still engrossed in their own world, looking over the books on vegetable gardening. She smiled before turning away and heading further along the mezzanine.
She came across a roped off section and stared into the darkness of the shelf lined walkway. She glanced over her shoulder before unhooking the rope and stepping into the aisle, hooking the rope behind her. ‘Just a quick peek,’ she thought. ‘It’s not hurting anyone.’
Perusing the books in the dimly lit section, her attention was caught by a very ornate book binding. Moving closer to inspect it, Min-ah saw that it was made of brown leather. She reached up to touch the leather, expecting it to be as rough as it looked. Min-ah was instead surprised to find it was smooth and felt almost like fine silk. “What the hell?” she whispered, pulling her hand back, eyes wide.
Curiosity got the better of her as she let out a breath she was holding and slowly reached back up to grab the book but someone else’s hand beat her to it. Min-ah spun around to see who had managed to sneak up on her. It was the man she had been watching. Seeing him up close, she could get a better look at his features. He had a strong jawline and pointed chin. His lips pulled into a smirk as he glanced at Min-ah before looking down at the book cover.
“What an interesting choice,” he said softly as he started flipping through the pages. Min-ah watched with wide eyes as the man before her continued to peruse the book. He glanced up at her, the look in his eyes giving her chills, before he snapped the book shut and handed it to her. Min-ah felt small and vulnerable in his presence. Maybe it was the height difference or his broad shoulders that made him look taller and intimidating.
“Don’t let anyone catch you with that,” his voice said, pulling Min-ah out of her thoughts. He nodded at the book now clutched in her hands. “People will start to talk and I’m sure a woman of your status wouldn’t want that,” he said in a condescending tone. Min-ah opened her mouth to respond but the man moved quickly towards her, trapping her between him and the shelf as she backed into.
He stared down at her, that same smug grin on his face. “You should get back to your friends,” he said in a low voice. Min-ah didn’t like the tone he used. As if something horrible would happen if she stayed there in that corridor with him. As if he was a dangerous beast and she was his next meal. Without a word, the man backed off and turned to walk away. He stepped over the rope and turned back to give Min-ah one final glance before he slipped out of her sight.
Letting out a sigh, Min-ah lifted a hand to check her pulse, pressing two fingers under her jaw. Her heart was pounding, just as she assumed. She knew that man was dangerous and that she never wanted to meet him again. But then why was she feeling a fluttering in her stomach? Not so much from attraction, but that feeling one gets when they do something they aren’t supposed to. A rush of adrenaline. A thrill. 
Shaking it from her mind, she looked down at the book in her hands and nearly gasped when she read the cover. It was a book about pirates. She set it down on a nearby table and started to hurry away before stopping in her tracks. Min-ah glanced back at the book lying innocently on the flat surface. She worried her lip between her teeth before making a rash, and rather stupid decision to take the book. She made sure no one was looking before slipping the book into her bag.
Min-ah hurried to the end of the aisle, peeking out to make sure the man was gone before she unhooked the rope and exited the section. She hurried back to find Amelia and Min-ho no longer sitting at the table. She searched for her brother as she walked down the steps of the mezzanine and towards the front door. Min-ah was relieved to find Min-ho standing by the front desk, checking out two books.
Min-ah joined him, receiving a worried look from him. Before he could ask anything, Min-ah shook her head, telling him not to worry about her. Nothing else was said as Amelia finished the checking process and handed Min-ho his books, reminding him to return them in a week. Min-ho thanked her before leaving. Min-ah also thanked Amelia, trying to hide her discomfort in her actions.
She followed Min-ho out of the front door of the library and into the still busy town square. Min-ah saw the man from the library outside with his companion once more. He looked over and they made eye contact. His lips pulled into a smile once more as Min-ah descended the steps with Min-ho.
As she stared him in the eyes, a wave of recognition passed over her as she suddenly remembered that she’d seen the man before, or more accurately, after visiting the library.
‘It’s him.’
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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 05:42 Arcadia, Min-ah
Min-ah woke with a start, gasping as she sat upright. She let out a few coughs, trying to steady her breath. She glanced around the room. It was still dark. Pulling back the covers, she swung her legs over the side of her bed and got to her feet, feeling her way through the darkness to her window to pull back the curtains. On the other side of the glass, she could see the sky was beginning to lighten.
‘Dawn.’ She let out a sigh and began getting ready for the day since she was already up. Min-ah lit a few candles to allow her to see better. As she sat at her vanity, she glanced at herself in the mirror. Realization set in as she recognized the man from her dream. It was the same man who had come by to see her father. She just didn’t realize it at the time. She had seen him that day she had gone to the library with Min-ho. Min-ah shook her head and started focusing on her hair.
As Min-ah pulled the comb through her locks, her mind wandered back to her dream. She remembered the man in her dream. She knew she had seen him. The man from yesterday. She remembered his light brown hair and chiseled jawline. Pushing it from her mind, Min-ah let out a soft sigh and shook her head. "Stop thinking about it," she whispered to herself. "You have more important things to think about," she added.
As she finished combing her hair and pulling it up into a half up-do, a soft knock was heard at the door. Sooyun entered the room, shutting the door behind her softly and walked around the bed. “Are you ready to dress, ma’am?” she asked. Min-ah nodded, standing and turning to head for her closet.
Inside, she chose a dress of dark blue, almost a midnight blue with embroidered silver stars. It had a high neck, long sleeves, and buttons down the back. Small black trims peaked out from the edge of the sleeves. To match, she chose a pair of black boots. Once changed into the dress, stockings on, and boots laced, Min-ah made her way out of her room, heading down the stairs with her hat in her hands.
Upon reaching the kitchen, she saw her father sitting at the kitchen table, looking over paperwork. He looked up as Min-ah entered the room and set the paper in his hand down, offering a rare smile to his daughter. "Morning," he murmured. He knew exactly how important today was to Min-ah. "Is everything all right, father?" Min-ah asked, noticing how exhausted her father looked. He waved his hand lightly. "Don’t worry about me," he said softly.
Min-ah pondered for a moment before finally deciding to speak up.
"Father," she said, glancing at him when he looked up at her. "Yes?" he asked, leaning back in his seat. "A man came by here yesterday looking for you," Min-ah replied. Min-hyuk looked at his daughter, perplexed by her revelation. "Who was it?" he asked. Min-ah shook her head. "I'm not sure. I've only seen him once before but I didn't realize it until this morning," she answered.
"Where did you see him?" Min-hyuk asked her. "The library a couple weeks ago," Min-ah answered, watching her father’s expression carefully. "Did he give his name?" he asked. Min-ah shook her head. "No. He didn't. He just gave me a sealed envelope to give you. He didn't even speak-" Min-ah stated but was interrupted by her father.
"Where is it?" he asked, sitting up straight. "Where is what?" Min-ah asked. Her father frowned. "The envelope, where did you put it?" Min-ah pointed towards the foyer. "I left it with your mail yesterday," she answered. Min-hyuk's face seemed to lose color, worrying Min-ah.
"What was it?" she asked. Min-hyuk shook his hand and dismissed her concern. "It was nothing. Some small company, looking for investors," he answered. "Don't worry about it, my dear."
Footsteps outside the kitchen drew both their attention, causing Min-ah and Min-hyuk to look up as Min-ho entered the room dressed in his best black suit. He glanced from his sister to his father, feeling as if they had just been in the middle of a private conversation. "What?" he asked softly, fidgeting with his bowtie.
Min-ah gave him a warm smile, walking over to help him tie it. "You look good," she said softly as their father went back to his paperwork while Sooyun started making breakfast. Min-ho looked over Min-ah's shoulder and then back to his sister. "What were you two talking about?" he asked.
Min-ah gave her brother a confused look. "I just asked him if he was alright," Min-ah said as she finished tying the bowtie and shaping it. "That's it?" Min-ho asked. Min-ah hesitated, pondering whether or not to tell her brother about the man at the door. She decided to wait until later to tell him. She shook her head. Before Min-ho could inquire, she explained that she would tell him after church.
"You promise?" Min-ho asked to which Min-ah nodded. "Of course. Have I ever broken a promise?" Min-ah asked, looking up at her brother. Min-ho studied her face before shaking his head. "No. You've never broken your promises," he said softly.
The two moved to sit at the table across from one another, their father at the head of the table. Sooyun continued to bustle about the kitchen, serving coffee for their father and Min-ho. Min-ah declined the beverage, asking for juice instead. Sooyun gave her a small smile.
As she was serving their breakfast, Hye-kyo entered the room, wearing her dressing gown, her hair unkempt as she sat at the opposite end of the table as her husband. Sooyun immediately began to serve her breakfast. As she was setting a cup down to pour her coffee, Hye-kyo stopped her.
"Be a dear and make me something a little bit stronger," she said, looking up at Sooyun. The maid stood straight and glanced toward where Min-hyuk sat. He didn't look up from his breakfast. Sooyun gave a small curtsey with a "yes ma'am," and moved to head for the bar.
As she passed Min-hyuk, he reached out and grabbed her arm. Min-ah and Min-ho looked up in shock. Sooyun looked terrified. Min-hyuk looked up at her. "Please pour her a cup of coffee and then go change for service. You can resume your duties when services are over," he said in a soft voice.
Sooyun looked relieved when he let go of her. She returned to pour a cup of coffee for Hye-kyo and then disappeared from the kitchen. Min-ah and Min-ho exchanged glances before looking at their father and then mother, who was now glaring at her husband. "I don't want coffee," she said flatly.
Min-hyuk ignored this and went back to his food. Hye-kyo didn't take well to being ignored. She slammed her hands on the table, standing up quickly. Min-ah glanced at her mother, taking in her disheveled appearance.
"I said," Hye-kyo snarled, "I don't want coffee!" Without missing a beat, Min-hyuk simply replied, "I don't care what you do or do not want. You aren't getting drunk at seven in the morning on the anniversary of our son's death."
Min-ah felt her stomach drop. She slowly looked up at Min-ho who stared wide eyed at his empty plate. She glanced from her father to her mother. She needed to intervene and get Min-ho out of this situation.
Clearing her throat, Min-ah turned to her father. "Father," she said softly. He looked from his plate up to her with a look that told her not to get involved but she persevered. 
"Before I closed shop yesterday, I made a special flower arrangement for Min-ki's grave but I forgot it at the shop," she said plainly. "Would it be alright," she continued. "If Min-ho and I went there on our way to the church to get the bouquet and then we'll meet you and mother there?"
Min-hyuk knew exactly what his daughter was doing. She was getting herself and Min-ho out of the house and he nodded. "I think that would be nice," he replied, lifting his napkin to wipe his mouth. "You two head out. I'll help your mother get ready and we'll meet you at the church," he said getting to his feet and walking around the table. Min-ho got up and headed quickly out of the kitchen.
Min-ah got to her feet and followed suit, not sparing a second glance back at her parents. She found Min-ho waiting for her in the foyer. Grabbing her coat, Min-ah pulled it on over her dress while Min-ho pulled his coat on over his suit. The siblings exited the house without a word into the cold morning. They headed silently toward the town square.
Min-ah wasn't sure if she should say anything but she needed to know that Min-ho was alright. "Min-ho?" she asked softly. He turned to look at her. "Hmm?" he replied. "Are you okay?" she asked as they walked through the empty town square towards her shop. Min-ho nodded.
"I honestly expected her to throw a fit when you said his name," he answered as Min-ah pulled out her keys and unlocked the shop. The two headed inside where Min-ah walked around the counter and grabbed the arrangement she had made. "I did too," she said as she followed Min-ho outside and locked the shop back up. Before Min-ho could say anything, a voice called out to them.
Min-ah and Min-ho looked to see one of the city guards walking quickly towards them. "All businesses are closed until after services are over," he barked at them. "Oh, we were just-" Min-ho tried to explain their situation but the guard wasn't having it. "I don't care what your excuses are," he said angrily. "You should be at home or heading to church," he added.
Min-ah stepped forward, pushing Min-ho behind her. "We were on our way. We just wanted to stop and get this arrangement I made yesterday for our brother's grave," she stated quickly, holding up the flowers. The guard was about to speak when he was interrupted.
"Is there a problem here?" a voice asked. All three turned to see the lieutenant of the guard walking towards them. "Lieutenant Wexley, sir," the city guard said, saluting him. "At ease, Compton," Lucas Wexley replied. Min-ah relaxed as Lucas sent the guard back to his post.
"We were just heading to the church," she explained. She held up the flowers. "I wanted to stop and grab this for Min-ki's grave," she added. Lucas nodded understandingly. "I can escort you to the church if you'd like," he said. Min-ah thanked him and the three of them made their way.
The walk was mostly silent before Lucas spoke. "Today is the anniversary," he stated. Min-ah nodded silently, glancing at Min-ho who said nothing and kept his eyes forward. "A horrible accident," Lucas said as the three continued forward. "It could have been prevented," Min-ho said as the church came into view. Min-ah grabbed his arm.
Before Lucas could reply, Min-ah gave him a kind smile. "Thank you for your company, Lieutenant Wexley. My brother and I have to meet our parents now," she said pointedly. Lucas returned the smile. "Of course, Miss Bang. It was my pleasure," he replied. He then shifted his attention to Min-ho. "Mr. Bang," he said with a curt nod.
Min-ah turned, pulling Min-ho behind her, ignoring the feeling of Lucas' eyes on her. "You can't just go around saying things like that," she reprimanded Min-ho as they hurried up the path towards the church where people were filing into the building. "I hate that guy," Min-ho hissed.
Min-ah rolled her eyes as they joined the line heading into the church. Once inside, the usher guided them to the correct seats where they met up with their parents. Somehow their father was able to bribe their mother into getting dressed and making herself look presentable.
She wore a black dress with white pinstripes to match his suit. She had removed her hat which was made to match her dress. Her hair was brushed, curled, and styled and she had makeup on. Min-ah sat down beside her mother forcing Min-ho to sit beside her instead of their mother.
"Is this the arrangement?" her mother asked, surprising Min-ah. She nodded as her mother took it gingerly and inspected it. She handed it back without a word. Min-hyuk was looking at the front of the church without a word.
Min-ah looked around, inspecting the white marble interior of the church. It was a massive cathedral, hundreds of seats on the main floor and a balcony with more seats allowing the entire city to sit during service. 
The ceiling was close to 30 meters, except inside the dome which was positioned over the altar. The exact inside height of the dome was disputed but rumors were that it stood at almost 18 meters taller than the ceiling.
Min-ah was brought out of her thoughts by everyone around her standing. She stood as well, looking straight ahead as one of the priests stood on a pulpit, looking out over the congregation. Once he had everyone's attention, he nodded, signaling everyone to take a seat.
Min-ah took her seat and looked down at the flowers in her hands as the priest began to speak, thanking everyone for coming. Beside her, Min-ah heard Min-ho snort softly. "Like we have a choice," he whispered. Min-ah tried to hide her smile and she lightly elbowed her brother.
Services continued as usual with the clergy performing their usual rituals of cleansing the congregation, preaching the word of God, and telling the congregation that they will be saved as long as they continue to attend church and believe in the will of God. As it came to a close, the priest called for attention. Min-ah looked up, very clearly done with sitting in the same spot for hours. Min-ho took her hand and gave it a squeeze. Min-ah looked at her brother who gave her a smile.
"Before we leave today and go about our lives," the priest said, his voice solemn despite the fake smile on his face. "Let us remember the tragic incident that occurred nine years ago today." Min-ah felt her breath catch in her throat. She looked over at Min-ho who was staring at the ground.
"Nine years ago, a section of the city that had been deemed unsafe to inhabit was closed off to the public and it was there that a portion of it fell, crumbling off and taking with it a young citizen. Today, we remember Min-ki Bang."
The crowd murmured an 'amen' before services were ended and dismissed. Min-ah stood, following Min-ho with their parents behind them. Once outside of the church, Min-ah felt like she could breathe, taking in the fresh air. She and Min-ho stood off to the side while waiting for their parents.
The four headed for the cemetery to visit Min-ki's grave. Once there, Min-ah replaced the dying flowers with the new arrangement. She and Min-ho stood side by side before their brother's grave, silent. She ignored as other members of the crowd came to offer words of strength and condolences. She didn't care. She knew they didn't really care either. They were doing what they were told to do.
She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, Min-ah hadn't heard the sounds her mother was making behind her. When she came to, Min-ah turned around to see her mother on the ground, throwing a hysterical fit and one of the other towns women looking completely shocked and mortified. Min-hyuk told her to move along. Min-ah turned away from the scene unfolding behind her. Min-ho hadn't even turned to look.
Unable to stand the sounds anymore, Min-ah turned to help her father but he shook his head. "Go to the market. I'll handle your mother," he said shoving a coin purse into her hand. "There's a list on the kitchen table for you," he added. Min-ah nodded and turned away from her parents, grabbing Min-ho and pushing through the crowd that had started to gather.
"Where are we going?" Min-ho asked. "Father wants us to go to the market," Min-ah said as she led the way back home. Min-ho kept pace with her as they hurried through the empty streets. Everyone was no doubt still at the church watching their mother have a breakdown.
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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 10:42 the Horizon, Seonghwa
Lifting the glass to his lips, Seonghwa took a sip of the golden liquor he had poured himself what felt like ages ago. The ship had been heading due East for days at this point. Hongjoong had been given the all clear by the Benefactor to sell some of their wares at various sky cities across the world. They had been to a couple already and next on this list was Arcadia.
Seonghwa hadn't been to Arcadia in several years. The last time he was there, he got in trouble with the law when he was discovered in bed with the wife of a guardsmen. He had fled the city quickly, escaping onto the Horizon at the last minute, meeting up with the others. They left the city and hadn't been back since.
Seonghwa vowed from then on to only take women to bed in a tavern or inn and never go to their homes again. He wasn't about to risk his life for a horny housewife.
The sound of shuffling brought Seonghwa out of his thoughts as Hongjoong appeared in the room. Seonghwa ignored him as he continued drinking. "It's not even noon," Hongjoong joked, laughing as Seonghwa cursed at him. The captain poured himself a drink and moved to sit across from Seonghwa. The two said nothing, the older man looking at his younger friend. Finally the younger of the two spoke up.
"I want you to go into the city," Hongjoong said. Seonghwa said nothing, merely stared at the melting ice in his almost empty glass. He knew Hongjoong would ask him to deal with the sales. It was his job after all as first mate. He always took care of the crew's outside transactions. The inside ones were left to the Benefactor.
Hongjoong lifted his glass, staring into the contents. Seonghwa wasn't much of a talker this early in the morning even though it was almost eleven in the morning, but then again Seonghwa wasn't much of a talker in general. Hongjoong sighed, taking a sip of his drink before setting it back on the table, the liquor burning his throat as it slid down. He wasn't done speaking.
"Take San, Wooyoung, and Mingi with you," he added when Seonghwa said nothing. "San and Wooyoung are great at selling and haggling. Mingi can offer protection," Hongjoong continued. Again, Seonghwa said nothing, merely staring at the melting ice in his glass. "Hey," Hongjoong said, catching his friend's attention.
Seonghwa glanced up at Hongjoong, holding the latter's gaze. Hongjoong scoffed, taking another sip. "You gonna say anything?" he asked. Seonghwa shrugged. "I better not see that guardsmen or his wife," he stated. Hongjoong burst into laughter, setting his glass on the table between them. "You have to admit," Hongjoong said. "That was hilarious." Seonghwa frowned at his friend.
"It was NOT hilarious," he replied but Hongjoong continued snickering. "Seeing you leap from the edge of the city onto the deck half naked will forever be engraved I'm my brain," Hongjoong replied. Seonghwa attempted to hide his smile as he scooped an ice cube out of his glass and threw it at Hongjoong who cackled as he dodged it. "Fuck off," Seonghwa chuckled, picking up his glass and finishing his drink. "I'll take the others to the market but don't expect us to sell much," he said getting to his feet.
He glanced down at Hongjoong and grabbed his empty glass. "The people of Arcadia are stingy and have no taste," he added, pointing at Hongjoong before moving to pour himself another drink. "Duly noted," Hongjoong chuckled as he took another sip from his own glass. Seonghwa returned to his seat, lifting his feet to rest them on the table. "Take the hairpin," Hongjoong said suddenly.
Seonghwa looked up. "The Sakura Pin?" he asked, uncertain he heard his captain correctly. Hongjoong nodded. "See what you can get for it. But don't accept less than a million," he added. Seonghwa snorted into his drink. "A million?!" he asked incredulously. Hongjoong nodded. "If someone wants it that badly, they'll pay."
Seonghwa shrugged his shoulders again. "I guess," he added. Hongjoong chuckled again. "Trust me, they will." The two were still talking about prices of the hairpin when San entered the room. "What are you two bickering about now?" he asked as he moved to sit down at the table, Wooyoung and Yunho following behind him.
"We aren't bickering," Seonghwa retorted. "Sure sounds like it," Wooyoung said as he poured himself a drink as well. "We don't bicker," Hongjoong added. "We were discussing prices."
"Prices of what?" Yunho asked as he sat next to San, leaving the last seat beside Seonghwa open for Wooyoung. "The Sakura Pin," Hongjoong answered. "Which reminds me," he added, turning to look at San and Wooyoung. "Do not accept anything under a million for that hairpin, am I clear?" he asked. Wooyoung choked on his drink, causing San to give him a couple thumps to the back.
"A million?!" Yunho exclaimed. Hongjoong nodded. "That pin is extremely rare. It's an authentic piece and not the fake. A million is the lowest we go," he replied. San nodded. "Sounds fair," he answered. "If someone wants it badly enough, they'll pay that amount," he added. Hongjoong smiled, turning to look at Seonghwa who rolled his eyes and lifted his glass to his lips.
"See?" Hongjoong said, raising his hand and gesturing toward San who smiled widely. "What did I say?" Seonghwa rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his drink. "Oh, shut up," he retorted.
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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 11:00 Arcadia, Min-ah
Upon arriving home, Min-ho unlocked the door and led the way in. Min-ah hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the list that her father had left on the table. Once she had it in her hands, she glanced over it. 'Eggs, milk, meat, cheese, vegetables, and bread,' she read. And written at the bottom in her father’s handwriting was a note that read 'and buy something for yourself as your birthday is coming up.'
Min-ah returned to Min-ho with the list and the two headed back outside. Min-ah noticed that most of the townspeople had made their way back into town now, no doubt her father and the church were able to disperse the crowd. Min-ah was thankful but it didn't stop random people from staring at her as if expecting her to randomly lose it as well.
She did her best to ignore the stares and was relieved to see most of the market had been set up. The siblings went through the stalls, buying items off the list. They stopped by the last stall, a vegetable stand and Min-ah told Min-ho which vegetables father liked.
Her attention was drawn elsewhere as her brother looked through the vegetables on the table. She looked through the crowd spotting a familiar face she had seen yesterday and again in her dream last night.
She turned to watch as the man she thought was the same that visited yesterday. As he looked over his shoulder, she was disappointed to see it wasn't the same man. She let out a huff and began to turn back to the vendor when something else caught her eye. 
A table not far from where she stood full of all types of combs, jewelry, and other sparkly and shiny items. Min-ho paid the vendor for the vegetables and turned to Min-ah.
"We got everything on the list?" he asked but his sister didn't respond. "Min-ah?" he asked, drawing her attention away from the table and the four men behind it. "Hmm?" she hummed. Min-ho glanced toward the table before smiling. "Father did say to buy yourself a present," he murmured. Min-ah turned her head to meet Min-ho's gaze, a smile already present on his face.
The siblings headed toward the table, passing through the crowd easily. As they approached, a particular ornate hairpin caught Min-ah's attention.
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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 11:27 Arcadia, Seonghwa
"We shouldn't be out in full view like this," Wooyoung hissed to San as the latter set out several hairpieces on the table. Mingi was off to the side, lost in his own thoughts while Seonghwa was inspecting the items on the table.
"Wooyoung, stop worrying. People are less likely to suspect anything if we're out in the open like this," San said softly as he adjusted a few hairpins. Wooyoung shook his head and turned away from San to look at Seonghwa.
"Hwa," he started but Seonghwa held up his hand. "I heard you the first time, Wooyoung. Sit next to Mingi and leave the worrying to me," the older man said. Wooyoung exchanged glances with Mingi as the red head looked up at the mention of his name. Wooyoung sighed and moved to sit down.
Seonghwa finished calculating the value of all the items in his head, nodding to himself before glancing up. His eyes fixated on a face in the crowd. Seonghwa had never seen someone so beautiful in his life. 
She was short with a slim figure. She wore a midnight blue dress with silver stars with a similar dark blue jacket. Her dark brown hair fell in soft waves down her shoulders, half of it pulled up into two twin combs he couldn't see under her matching blue hat. She carried a small bag, strap wrapped around her wrist.
He tore his attention from her clothing where his eyes fixated on the smoothness of her skin. Her complexion was much fairer than his, showing she had never worked a day of her life outside. The curve of her cheek dip down to meet a soft and rounded chin. Her nose was small and slightly upturned at the tip making it look like a button. Cute was the only word that came to his mind.
Her cheeks had a natural rosy hue to them that extended to the bridge of her nose. A natural flush to her light honey toned skin. Her eyes were the softest brown Seonghwa had ever seen and they were full of curiosity and wonder, something he'd never seen from a woman of her obvious station.
It gave her an overall youthful glow. Her hands were small and dainty as she reached out to gently touch several of the hair ornaments, no doubt inspecting the quality of each item that caught her eye. A smile was present on her face as she browsed their stolen wares. Would she know they were stolen? And if she did know, would she willingly pay for stolen goods? He didn't know.
He watched as she turned her head to look at the man beside her. Seonghwa had been so engrossed in studying the woman that he hadn't even noticed the man standing to her left. He was no doubt her fiancé if not her husband.
He was noticeably taller with a lighter shade of brown hair. He wore a nice black suit and carried a bag, presumably with their purchases inside. The woman began looking through the items on the table, one item in particular but Seonghwa didn't pay attention to which item it was. He had to stop staring before he got into trouble like last time. He was not above wooing a married woman into bed with him.
He forced himself to look away from this woman who had ignited a fire in him like no other had done before. He ignored the feelings in his chest and stomach and busied himself with wrapping up the items they didn't have space on the table for as San began speaking with the woman.
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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 11:34 Arcadia, Min-ah
"Looking for anything specific?" a man asked. Min-ah looked up and was greeted by a brilliant smile. 
The man before her had medium brown hair that was styled to show off his forehead, black eyes, and was a few inches taller than she was. He wore a simple white linen shirt, the neck open revealing his collarbone. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, exposing his forearms. 
Over his linen shirt, he wore an open black vest. She couldn’t be sure of the material but it looked to be jacquard. He also wore a pair of high waisted black leather pants and a pair of black heavy boots. 
When he smiled, dimples appeared on both cheeks and his eyes turned into crescents. Min-ah felt comfortable in his presence.
"Not really," she said, shaking her head. "I just happened to see these from afar," she added, gesturing at the hairpins before her. She looked closer at the ornate one that first caught her eye. It was the most beautiful pin.
It was made of metal, an off white enamel sakura blossom with a pink pearl center and smaller white blossoms. The main blossom was surrounded by green leaves with strands of crystal beads hanging down with ornate green beads at the ends.
"How much is this one?" Min-ah asked, looking up at the man. He glanced down at the Sakura hairpin, a smile on his face. "This one is a really rare piece," he started, picking it up and walking around the table to show her. "It comes with a story actually," he added. 
"Legend is that an emperor had it made for the woman he loved," the man started to explain, looking from the pin to her, a smile still on his face. Min-ah couldn't help but smile back. He was a stranger for sure, as she knew almost everyone on Arcadia but he was possibly one of the most handsome strangers she had ever seen.
Min-ah reached out slowly before stopping. She looked up at the man. "May I?" she asked. The man nodded, handing her the pin to inspect. It was even more beautiful in the sunlight. The petals of the blossom sparkled as Min-ah moved the pin around. "It's so beautiful," she said.
“Yah, San!” a voice said. Min-ah glanced up as the man she had been talking to turned to look at another man who had called out to him. The man who had called out had been sitting down when Min-ah first approached the stall. He was now standing and leaning over the table, giving his compadre a very pointed look. What it meant, Min-ah was not sure. She took in his appearance as he stared at the man she now knew was named San.
He had short blond hair with a silvery tone. His jawline was sharp in contrast to the curve of his cheeks. He had San fixed with a sharp stare of his black eyes. It was almost as if he was telling the other man off for something he had done. He wore mostly leather. A black linen shirt, more fitted than flowing, with a black leather vest. Tight fitted leather pants showed off his muscular physique. 
On his right hip, sat an empty holster. Min-ah wondered where the weapon that belonged in it was but she didn’t have time to think about that as she also caught sight of another man behind the blond one.
He was big. He didn’t have to be standing for Min-ah to know he would tower over her. His hair was a deep red, a stark contrast from his golden skin tone. His eyes were a light brown, almost amber in the sunlight. He gave Min-ah a curious and puzzled look when their eyes met. Min-ah gave him a polite and friendly smile which he returned after a moment.
Min-ah saw he wore an off white linen shirt, black leather trousers, and a pair of heavy, black lace-up boots. He sat on a low stone wall behind the others. Min-ah’s eyes were drawn to the final member of the group she hadn’t looked at but before she could get a good look, the man called San spoke to her.
“Would you be interested in any of the other hairpins we have for sale?” he asked, gesturing at the other trinkets on the table. Min-ah started to look through them as he explained each item to her.
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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 11:38 Arcadia, Seonghwa
Seonghwa glanced up, eyes landing on the woman. She was standing with San, the Sakura Pin in her hands as San explained the value of the pin. His expression softened as he watched the way her face lit up as she listened to San's story. The smile on her face was radiant and it took his breath away. He was vaguely aware of someone saying his name but it took him a few more moments to register Mingi at his side, shaking his shoulder gently.
Seonghwa tore his gaze from the woman and looked at the red head. "What?" he whispered. Mingi nodded wordlessly at the other side of the market where several uniformed guards had entered, looking around the market.
He turned to Wooyoung who looked wide eyed at him. Seonghwa nodded at the table, signaling them to pack it up. Wooyoung started quickly, grabbing the items and placing them back in the bag. Mingi slowly placed his hand on the gun at his hip but made no move to unholster it.
Seonghwa whistled at San who turned to face him. The woman had heard the commotion caused by the arrival of the guards. Seonghwa nodded at the Sakura Pin and San nodded, turning his attention back to the woman as the others finished packing up, slinging the bags over their backs. 
"I'm very sorry, ma'am but I'm going to need this back," San said softly as to not draw attention their way. He lightly tugged at the pin in the woman's grasp but she had a tight hold on it. Her attention was fixed in the distance as the armed guards began searching through the stalls, inspecting the people running them.
San was trying to pull the pin from the woman's hand but she wasn't letting go. Both her and the man with her were focused on the guards that had been inspecting the various stalls. Seonghwa glanced at the advancing guards. He had two choices: leave the hairpin or something much more daring and would definitely cause trouble.
One thing was certain: he wasn't leaving without that hairpin.
San turned to give Seonghwa an exasperated look. Seonghwa narrowed his eyes before hissing Mingi's name. The tall red-head looked over his shoulder at him. Seonghwa nodded towards the woman. "Grab her," he said.
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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 11:42 Arcadia, Min-ah
Min-ah heard several gasps and turned to see the guard had arrived led by Lucas of course. She was confused as to why they had come. The man was speaking to her but she couldn't make out what he was saying. She was too preoccupied by the advancing guards.
"There they are!" one of the guards said, pointing in their direction. Min-ah looked at her brother who looked just as confused as she did. 'What is going on?'
Min-ah heard a voice behind her say "grab her." She whipped her head around in time to make eye contact with a man with black hair and piercing eyes. She turned as the tall man with the bright red hair advanced on her.
She glanced at San, whom she had been speaking with. He merely gave her an apologetic smile and shrugged before jumping over the table and grabbing one of the bags as the rest of the crew took off. The red-head looked at the guards and back down at Min-ah. "I'm very sorry for this, Miss," he said before grabbing her and throwing her over his shoulder, knocking Min-ho to the ground in the process.
Min-ah screamed as the man took off after his comrades. "They're getting away!" Lucas called out, giving chase. Min-ah wasn't able to see much in her position as the man carrying her ran through the back alleys.
"PUT ME DOWN!!" Min-ah screamed, hitting the man's back as he ran. He didn't even seem phased by her hits. He continued to run down the dark alleys, her hat fell off as he continued quickly through the thin alleys
"Come on!" Min-ah heard another man yell. "Mingi! Let's go!" Min-ah glanced back over her shoulder to see the man with the piercing eyes holding back a piece of fence into the Erosion Zone. The man carrying her passed through the fence and continued after the others.
As he rounded the building, Min-ah saw an airship waiting at the edge of the city. The others had already jumped on. The red-head did his best to keep his balance as he jumped from rock to rock and stopped at the very edge and looked down at the deck below.
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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 12:06 the Horizon, Yunho
"Ugh, why do I have to be on guard duty?" Yunho groaned as he laid in his hammock suspended between two posts on the deck. He was told by Hongjoong to stay topside and wait for the others to return from the market. All he wanted to do was rest in his cabin.
He heard shuffling and opened his eyes to see Yeosang walking toward him carrying a bowl with no doubt his favorite stew inside. Yunho took it and thanked the chef. "I scooped out the bits you don't like," he added as Yunho picked up his spoon and started to eat. "You're the backbone of this ship," Yunho said as he ate several mouthfuls of the stew. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until Yeosang handed him a bowl. 
Yeosang scoffed, leaning against one of the posts and looked up at the edge of the city, hair ruffled by the breeze. "Hongjoong would disagree with you," he mumbled. Yunho looked up at his friend. The slightly younger man had no idea how valuable he was to the crew.
"Look, I like Jongho as much as everyone else, but the heart and soul of this ship is the kitchen and without you, it would be a lifeless ship. You keep us sane and fed. There's nothing more important than that," Yunho said, pointing his spoon at Yeosang.
The blonde smiled and looked back up at the sky. "Thank you," he said softly. Yunho said nothing but continued to eat. Silence fell over the two but it was short lived when footsteps announced the arrival of the youngest member of the crew. “Jongho,” Yeosang said, nodding his head slightly in greeting.
“Hongjoong wants to know when lunch will be ready,” Jongho said, looking from the chef to Yunho. Yeosang chuckled. “It’s already done,” he said in response, standing up straight. “I’ll get him a bowl,” he added. Jongho nodded, saying nothing before turning and walking away. “Why does he still act like that?” Yunho wondered, as Yeosang held out his hand to take the now empty bowl from him.
“Like what?” the brunette asked. “Like we’re all strangers,” Yunho answered. “He acts so weird around us sometimes.” Yeosang laughed, shaking his head. “I just think that’s Jongho,” he replied. With a shrug, he turned to walk away, heading down from the deck into the ship. Yunho rested back in his hammock before a distant scream caught his attention. It was unmistakably the scream of a woman. He sat up, rolling out of his hammock and onto his feet. He stared up at the edge of the city, floating a good 20 feet above the ship. He moved to the port side to try and get a better view of the cliff but saw nothing.
He was mentally cursing his ears when he suddenly heard the sounds of footsteps above. Yunho glanced up to see San and Wooyoung at the edge of the city. "Jump!" Yunho called, pointing at the pile of cushions and tarps he had set up for occasions just like this. San wasted no time and leapt off the city, landing in the cushions.
He scrambled up and looked up at Wooyoung. "Jump! It's fine. Just jump!" Wooyoung did as he was told and landed on the cushions. "Where's Seonghwa and Mingi?" Yunho asked as Wooyoung got up. "They're coming," San said. The sound of footsteps announced the arrival of Mingi.
Yunho looked up to see someone slung over Mingi's shoulder. "Who is that?!" he yelled. Before Mingi could answer, Yunho heard Seonghwa. "Just toss her to Yunho!"
Mingi lowered the woman. Yunho saw her glance down, eyes wide with fear as she held on tightly to Mingi. "Don't you dare," she warned. Mingi grimaced."I'm really sorry about this," he apologized again before dropping her off the edge of the city. 
Yunho cursed as he braced himself, arms ready. The woman screamed as she fell, arms flailing as she tried to keep herself upright. Yunho dug his heels into the wood of the deck the best he could before catching the woman but the force caused him to fall back onto the hardwood. Mingi jumped off, landing on the cushions as Seonghwa reached the edge as well.
He jumped off, landed on the deck, rolling to soften his fall. "Tell Hongjoong to go!" Seonghwa yelled to Wooyoung who took off to relay the order.
Yunho groaned as he sat up, the woman Mingi had dropped to him still on him. She looked around, eyes wide with fear. "Are you alright?" Yunho asked, rubbing the back of his head. The woman looked up at him, terrified.
Seonghwa turned to look at Yunho. He stormed over, towering over the woman. His eyes landed on the hairpin still clutched in her hand. He knelt down slowly, eyes glaring as he reached her level. The woman stared at him, shaking slightly. He grabbed the hairpin and pulled it from her hand as he stood up.
"Yunho, Mingi, one of you take her below deck and put her in the brig," he ordered before turning and walking away. Yunho and Mingi exchanged glances as the ship started to move. Mingi got to his feet, dusting himself off. "You do it," he said nodding at Yunho. "I carried her here," he added.
Before Yunho could respond, Mingi left the deck, descending down into the ship. Yunho sighed before slowly getting to his feet. He turned and held out his hand to the woman. "Let's go," he said. She didn't move, instead staring up at him. Yunho cocked his head.
"Either you can walk there on your own, or I can throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes," he said with a smirk. "Your call." The woman took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "I'm Yunho," he said as he led her towards the steps down into the ship. "Who are you?"
The woman hesitated as Yunho led her through the ship, further down until he reached a door with a sliding lock. "You can tell me your name," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "I'm not going to bite."
The woman watched as he unlatched the door and opened it. He gestured for her to step inside. She did and turned to face him. "Min-ah. My name is Min-ah." Yunho smiled. "Well, nice to meet you, Min-ah. Feel free to wait right here for our captain to greet you," he replied before shutting the door and sliding the lock back in place.
He turned and headed for the engine room where he planned to confront San and ask him exactly what happened in the city and why there was a beautiful woman named Min-ah on their ship.
───────────────────────────────────
January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 12:19 the Horizon, Min-ah
Inside the room, Min-ah looked around. It was dark but it wasn't damp. Min-ah sighed and started to look around. The room was filled with crates and bags, no doubt food and other supplies but there were also plenty of chests and other interesting relics tied down and partially covered with large drop cloths.
She began to move toward the chests, finding most of them were locked. She found one chest that wasn't locked and deciding to be rather nosey, Min-ah opened it and peered inside.
She was surprised to see that it was full of not gold or gems, but rather paperwork. She started sifting through it to make sense of it. Most of it were written documents, ledgers, and receipts. "What is all of this?" she whispered as she looked at the papers.
Min-ah was brought back to her senses by the sound of footsteps outside the room. She quickly shut the lid on the chest and scurried away from the cargo, moving back by the door. She listened carefully for any more sounds but heard nothing.
Deciding not to snoop anymore, Min-ah sat down on a crate and waited for someone to come to the cargo hold.
She thought about how she got in this predicament in the first place. All she wanted was to find a nice gift for herself as her father suggested. Why did she have to go to a stand owned by pirates? Why couldn't she have found someone else selling hairpins?
"This is absurd," Min-ah hissed to herself, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can't believe, of all things, this had to happen to me," she added. "Absolutely outrageous!" she grumbled to no one. 
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January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 12:26 the Horizon, Seonghwa
Seonghwa watched as Hongjoong paced back and forth in front of him, Mingi standing nervously next to him. The pair watched as their captain said nothing, continuing only to pace before them.
Seonghwa was about to speak but Hongjoong beat him to it.
"What were you thinking?" he said, trying to keep his tone even but it was no use, Seonghwa knew Hongjoong better than that. He could see that his friend was seething.
"It was a quick decision, I made after a brief consideration, Captain," Seonghwa replied simply. "Nothing more." Hongjoong scoffed, coming to a stop, hands still behind his back and eyes looking out the window to the West. "This wasn't a simple decision, Seonghwa," he argued. Seonghwa held his ground.
"It was. She had a firm grip on the Sakura Pin and San tried his hardest to pull it from her but her attention was elsewhere," Seonghwa explained. Hongjoong turned his head and held his friend's gaze. "I knew you would be more angry if we lost that pin, so I did what I felt was best," Seonghwa added.
Hongjoong cursed mentally. Seonghwa was right. The Sakura Pin was extremely rare and very old. There was no way he would let something of that value go. Hongjoong had no choice but to concede.
With a heavy sigh, he moved to sit down behind his desk. "So, you gave the order and Mingi followed through?" he asked. Seonghwa nodded, moving to sit across from Hongjoong. "He did. Even apologized to her before he picked up and threw her over his shoulder," Seonghwa added with a small smirk.
Hongjoong eyed his friend before a chuckle escaped him. He looked up at Mingi. "You're free to go," he said with a smile.
Mingi, who had been standing with his whole body tensed up, finally seemed to relax and nodded. He turned and exited the room, leaving Hongjoong and Seonghwa alone.
Once the door shut, Seonghwa fixed his friend with a stern gaze. "What are we going to do about her?" he asked. Hongjoong looked down at his desk littered with papers, maps, and small trinkets. 
"It's too dangerous to turn back right now," he murmured just loud enough for Seonghwa to hear him. "The entire city will be on high alert,"  the raven-headed man added. "We could hold onto her," Hongjoong mentioned. Seonghwa wrinkled his nose.
"Hold onto her?" he asked, his disdain unmistakable. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes. "Yes. This is your punishment. Were going to keep her on board until it's safe to return her to Arcadia."
The tone in Hongjoong's voice made it clear that this decision was final. Seonghwa nodded reluctantly and watched as Hongjoong stood up, grabbing his coat that was hanging off the back of his chair. "Well," he said as he put his coat on. "Let's not keep our guest waiting," he added, giving Seonghwa a smile.
Seonghwa groaned and stood up. Hongjoong's smile fell and he pointed a finger at his friend. "Not one word," he said. "This is entirely your fault." Seonghwa held up his hands in defeat and followed his shorter friend as he opened the door and sauntered down the hall.
Making their way through the ship, they turned the corner and found the rest of the crew standing outside the door to the cargo hold, listening intently at what was going on inside the room. Seonghwa watched as the crew scattered when Hongjoong approached.
"She's talking to herself," San chuckled when Hongjoong gave him a puzzled look. Nothing else was said as Hongjoong unlocked and opened the door. He stepped inside, followed by Seonghwa while the rest of the crew peered inside.
The woman before him was slim and petite. She wore a deep blue dress with silver embroidered stars. It was a flattering silhouette on her. The high neck and long sleeves gave her a very proper appearance. Her hair was a soft brown and pulled back into a flowy half up half down style. She had beautiful crescent moon shaped pins holding her hair back. 
The hem of her skirt was lifted as she sat on a crate near the door giving him a peek at the black boots she wore. Hongjoong looked back up as the woman turned to look at him, her soft brown eyes meeting his and he could see why the others were so keen on her.
───────────────────────────────────
January 15, NY 263 Sundas, 12:38 the Horizon, Min-ah
Min-ah glanced up and stood quickly, eyes widening in panic.
'This is it! I'm done for,' she thought as she watched whom she assumed to be the captain approach her. He wore a crisp linen shirt tucked into black trousers with a black and gold brocade vest. The gold detailing was a dragon pattern. Over this, he wore a blue and black brocade coat and a pair of black cavalier boots.
Fastened to one hip was a sword with an ornate handle that shimmered in the low lights. The hilt was made out of shined bronze. On the other side, a small dagger was strapped to his thigh and tucked under his right arm was a holster with a flintlock pistol.
His hair was short, black, and shaved on the sides with a few braids coming from the back. He had an x cut pattern in his right eyebrow. He gave Min-ah a smile that despite the situation, made her feel welcomed. The man who had told the tall red head to grab her stood behind this man and she was able to get a good look at him.
His hair was a bit longer with an undercut, also black. He wore a linen shirt as well but in a blood red color, under a black on black brocade vest. His trousers were also black as were his cavalier boots. At his hip sat a holster with a revolver in it and strapped to his other thigh was a large dagger in its sheath.
He studied Min-ah with a firm and heated gaze. It made her feel small and scrutinized. She shifted her attention back to the captain as he spoke with a pleasant tone.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," he said with a small bow. Min-ah curtsied back curiously. "Good afternoon," she said softly.
"Sorry for the inconvenience my crew may have caused you," he continued. "My name is Kim Hongjoong and I am the captain of this ship." Hongjoong smiled as he gestured at the cargo hold. Min-ah glanced behind the pair and saw 5 more pairs of eyes looking at her from the doorway. Hongjoong looked over his shoulder.
The crew immediately scattered and he chuckled. "Don't mind them," he added. "They've never seen a woman on board before." Min-ah looked back at him. "Why am I here?" she asked, looking from Hongjoong to the other man. Hongjoong noticed and decided to introduce him. "This is my first mate, Seonghwa," he added.
Min-ah nodded wordlessly before asking again. 
"Why am I here? What do you want with me?" she asked. Hongjoong shook his head. "I would like to apologize again. Your being here was not planned," he stated. "It was entirely an accident," he continued. "Let me explain."
Min-ah listened as he explained everything. How the only reason she was grabbed was because she was holding a very rare and valuable hairpin. Min-ah felt that was no excuse but kept her mouth shut while she listened. When she said nothing, the captain continued.
"We are going to keep you on board for now. Just until things cool down in Arcadia. Once things calm down, we will return you," he added. Min-ah stared at him for a moment. Hongjoong sensed her hesitation. "I give you my word as captain of this ship, that you will be returned home safely." Min-ah sighed.
"I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?" she asked. Hongjoong shook his head. "No, you really don't," he added in amusement. Min-ah sat down on a crate and groaned. "Then I guess I'll just have to wait it out," she replied. Hongjoong nodded before looking at Seonghwa. "Set her up with her own cabin and get her anything else she needs," he said, a hint of authority to him.
He looked at Min-ah once more. "If you need anything, Seonghwa will get it for you Miss…?" he trailed off. "Min-ah. Bang Min-ah," Min-ah answered. Hongjoong nodded, a small smile on his face.
"Well, Miss Min-ah," he said, his smile shifting into a smirk.
"Welcome aboard the Horizon."
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heli0s-writes · 5 years
Text
Saga*
Summary: Bucky is in a mood.
A/N: HELLO. Here is the much-awaited bunny saga. How did I get here. Why did you guys do this to me? Thanks everyone who cursed me with this, especially @softbiker​ who put the bath-time idea into my head and had me dry-heaving about it. 🧡
Warnings: Smut! 18+ DomBucky. Rough sex. Mild comeplay. Anal fingering. Over-stimulation. Crying. Possible Dubcon. Please I don’t know. 2.5k words.
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It’s nine-thirty and hazy when you get home. Another day spent poring over paperwork and e-mail chains, tracing lines of command to seek the right department head to question and scrutinize. Senators and budgets. Bureaucracy and posturing. Your affixed scowl and bared teeth when you berate men making wrong decisions for half the free world.
Most of the time, your job is fulfilling and fits you perfectly. However, it’s been an entire week of fuck-ups to resolve and you’re overwrought. Sleep-deprived. Pissed-off. Permanently on edge. Thank God the house is quiet, at least.
You break the silence almost guiltily, calling his name. Nearly seventeen hours you’ve been gone—and it’s been like this too long. Now it’s Friday and you texted him near lunchtime you’d have to be in tomorrow, too.
Radio silence ever since. Naturally, you’re anxious.
Down the hallway, Bucky’s voice echoes. “I’m in the bath, sweetheart.”  
Instantaneous relief.
-
The door swings open and buttery vanilla greets you first. Then notes of garden rose cuts through the cream. Moisture hangs heavy in the air. Thick. Warm. You marvel at the view.
He’s leaned back, shoulders and chest exposed above the swirling bubbles, hair tied up with a smile on his pretty lips. His reflective left arm rests on the smooth edge of the porcelain, motioning you forward with shimmering candlelit fingers. Silver bowing to an orange-golden glow.
“Been waiting for you.”
Droplets roll down his neck, gather in the space between his collarbones. It’s heavenly. You slip in the tub and heave a sigh. Oh, he’s good. Always so good at taking the day from you. Always known what you needed.
Since the first time he caught you grilling Tony at the compound, flicking off Steve on your way out in half-jest half-sincerity because their levelling an entire block meant a mess-ton of work on your end and a headache into next year, he’d known. He asked you out, then, as an apology. Something about the mission being his fault. Lemme get you a coffee, please. And you had snapped up yours, Barnes, but met him the next day anyway. Twenty minutes turned into two hours and by the time you were leaving for home, he was coming along with you. One broken bedframe later and you were gone for him.
Exactly what you needed.
“Buck...” You rest your head on his shoulder now, grateful. “Mm... Sorry I haven’t been home much.”
“I know you are.” It’s a mysterious reply, but you’re too worn to raise questions.
Bucky’s breath fans over your shoulder, hotter than the water on your skin. A kiss to your throat. His torso rubs against your back. His legs and arms shift, rearranging himself around you purposefully and it feels like you’re being eased into a trap.
A groan when you discover his game. Exasperated and on edge, reflexive with attitude because you’ve spent all week telling men what to do, you put on that voice you reserve for work: sharp. Commanding. “I have to be up early; I need to sleep.”
Petulance is his reply. Equally decisive. Even sharper.
“I don’t care.”
Under the flickering glow, Bucky sucks the inside of his cheek between his teeth, peers up from behind darkening eyes, and you feel your entire soul tremble.
“Go lie down.” His timbre is steady, indifferent, as if he’s got the entire situation in the center of his palm. He rumbles from deep in his chest, and the trap is revealed. Turning gears and metal mechanisms clatter. Bucky’s finger on the trigger. “Be good, bunny.”
Fuck. You bite down a wince. That pet name. He only uses it when he’s feeling a certain way— dominating, maybe even vengeful. Tired of missing his girl and chasing her shadow. His pupils are blown wide and hounding your every move. Voracious and predatory and you feel very much like his prey now. Defiance flees. You’re barely audible.
“Bucky—“
His tongue flicks over a canine and your stomach leaps into your throat.
“Don’t make me say it again.”
The cage door crashes down. Locks itself shut with you ensnared.
-
Harried thoughts about how to escape his wrath swim through your mind on the bed. You love him. Jesus Christ, do you love him, but you have to get more than three hours tonight. Your eyes are still shut when you feel big hands slide under your calves, behind your knees, lifting you up and right onto his face.
Leisurely licks despite his urgency. Up. Down. The pad of his tongue wet and loving, slicking you up with kisses and spit. His tender affection tucked within impetuous craving. A bruising grip to your hipbones, settling your body, ignoring your pleas when you attempt them.
“Haven’t gotten to touch you in days. You know what that does to me?” Another long, soft suck as you quiver. You can hear his mouth. Smell your own scent threading through the rose and vanilla atmosphere. Sweet and tangy. Alive and keening. Undeniably eager for him. Your pulse feels attached to every effort of his fingertips.
“Gonna have you all night---” Low timbre, curling deep. “—till you’re falling apart for me—” You try to catch your breath. “—shaking the goddamn bed—oh--”
At the first clench of your orgasm, Bucky smiles against your clit, flicking sharp lines as you jerk the tender bud away.
“Stay still.”
His left hand wraps itself around the base of your throat, pressing enough to keep you compliant. The plates shifts and clicks. You break out in a shudder at the sound of it whirring. His other fingers begin their real work, heel of his palm hitting your throbbing clit with every manic shove. Squelching. Smacking. Your desperate whimpers. And then a final loud yelp and you go slack for the second time.
On the comedown, your bones melting into the mattress, you attempt to swat him away, but he’s faster— of course he is— and in a flash he flips you. A crack of his palm and agony shoots up your side like fire.
“I said, stay still.”
You yelp when he does it again, squirming helplessly because he’s barely touching it now— the swollen skin on your ass blistering. He’s dancing on the edges, teasing, lifting— and then—
Another one. You’re stuck in his grasp. Your vision blurs. He leans forward to kiss newly formed tears at the edge of your eye into his devilish mouth. Your spine is electric like a live wire.
Tracing your inflamed wound with his finger-- light touches around the edge of the hurt-- he dips past your flushed cheek with a grin. His tongue is hot when he licks the salt between your teeth. That teardrop he pulled from you, traded from his mouth to yours.
“Cryin’ so pretty, baby.” Bucky praises against your trembling chin, tasting another droplet collecting along your jaw, “You’ll be good now, won’t you?” A weak nod. Captured game spellbound by all his power.
“Get up there with your fucking face in the pillow.”
Metal grasps the back of your neck, tangling your hair, pressing your cheek into the cushion. A slow nudge, he parts your entrance, giving just a tiny bit of him, making you squirm and clench already around his cockhead. Beneath his grip, you pant, nodding, inhaling lungfuls of fresh detergent on the sheets, steeling yourself.
Another mindful lean. He’s so thick. You shimmy desperately, throbbing for more. “Needy fucking girl.” A scrape of his teeth to your shoulder. “Jesus, you got me all slicked up and wet.”
He sinks in-- all the way—easily and so, so deep you swear the air’s been punched clean out of your body. Bucky holds you beneath him, dick pushing deeper and deeper and god how is he doing this.
“I’m gonna fuck you hard, baby—” A grunt. “--maybe too hard, huh?” His breath chases a shudder down your back. “I’ve been wound up—can’t help myself anymore.”
You struggle, shake your head, feel yourself choking up another sob, toes curling until they feel stuck.
“Come on it,” he commands, “Squeeze my cock, sweetheart. Make it filthy with your pussy.”
“Ngh— Buck, you’re gonna—“
A wilted cry tears itself free, smothering itself out on the pillow beneath. You’re still reeling when he picks up his pace, hands gripping your ass, spreading you to admire the sight of him welded inside. You’re trembling-- twitching, overstimulated and overwhelmed—sniffling quietly. You’re shivery and hot, raw and exposed.
He drives in again.
“You ain’t going back to work tomorrow. You’re gonna stay right here— all— fucking—day.” You punctuate his syllables with gagged moans—lilt high like you’re injured, fisting the blankets, tears catching in the pillow.
“Sweet girl,” Bucky croons, wolfish, “Does it feel good?”
He sticks his fingers back in your mouth, thumb under your tongue where spit has collected and drags out a line of it. “Look at you… drooling everywhere, bunny. You’re so fucking messy for my cock.”
Bucky drags his hand down your back, takes his time traveling over the swell of your ass, into the dipping line and prods gently against your tight hole. Jesus fucking Christ.
“Yeah?” A wiggle of his hips, “Tell me you want it.”
Your brain is—not quite working. A little crinkle of static here, a little drone of magnetic humming there, realizing how embarrassed you feel. Submissive and helpless, sloppy and displayed, but you have enough bearing to nod. Get a quiet agreeance out. “Y-yes.”
And it’s enough for him. A lazy kiss to your shoulder, stilling his cock, spreading what’s smeared around your pussy and his base up to your hole, driving in slow and deliberate. The little sense you have flees entirely. You want it so bad, lost to him.
Grinding, grinding, grinding. Deeper and deeper. Dragging all the way out and then back in.
“Too much? Hm? You’re gonna take it, though, aren’t you? Yeah--” He’s harder now. Stiffens up with his own goading, you tensing beneath him, sheen of sweat on your brow and back. “Fuck, I love your pussy. Love your ass. Gonna fill you up at least twice.”
Sometimes the pros of being with an enhanced super soldier is the sex. Sometimes the cons of being with an enhanced super soldier is the sex, too. Twice is a walk in the goddamn park for Bucky. It’s a promise and a threat.
One finger becomes two, hooking slightly, rubbing the back of his knuckle down, feeling the stroke of his cock through your swollen layer of muscle.
“Oh,” you whine, “Bucky—ah—ah.”
It hurts like the way a long morning jog does— aching muscles, worn and overworked, thrumming voltage and adrenaline— and you’re high on it. Clumsy grunts and gasps, blabbering compliance, head spinning. Your vision bursts white. Or black. Or stars—whatever. You’re finished, that’s for sure. Gone for him. Like always.
But not Bucky. Hell, he keeps going, crams another finger inside of you, other arm underneath your belly now, elbow crooked, thighs splayed around your hips, shoving himself in so fucking furiously it rattles the entire room.
The realization dawns that you’re not coming back down. It feels like you’re being torn apart. Skinned and stinging and the most incredible sensation in the whole damn world with him wrapping your entire being around his desire as he fucks into you. You feel claimed. You feel owned. You feel infinite.
“Jesus, baby.” He grunts, “Jesus—fuck—yeah. Fucking good-- all mine.”
Near inarticulate and filthy. He gets this way when he’s close-- tongue-tied as much as Bucky can be, because he’s always got the kind of clever vocabulary that makes your entire body burn without ever having to touch you. So now, when he’s stuffing you full and saying those kinds of things, you don’t stand a chance.
Bucky grips your hair and peels your throat exposed, sucking a mark on the pulse point, and comes so hard he knocks you both into the headboard with the back of his hand cushioning the blow.
His cock is covered when he pulls out, still half-hard and stroking himself, using it like lube. You push your palms over your face, move your knees together but he wedges them apart so wide they smart.
His ruddy cheeks glow beneath the searing blue ring of his eyes, a microscopic corona encircling the darkness of enormous pupils. He holds you frozen with a single look-- ravenous. At least twice floats into your head. Oh, god.
It doesn’t take long the second time, like he’s propelled straight through his first and pitched right into the next. He buries his face into your neck, jerks to a halt with heavy pant, hair splayed over your collar. The sound of it, the smell of it, the feel. His cock, painfully hard. His come, shoved deeper. Your insides, bruised tender and sore, throbbing, stinging, still fluttering for more. Pleasure blurs into pain and back again.
He pinches your nipples hard. Squeezes your jaw, your cheeks. Fucks your mouth with his hand and smears your spit down your sternum.
“What’re you doing tomorrow?” He leans into a thrust, “Tell me.”
Bucky sits you up into his lap, wraps his limbs around you lovingly. The world is hazy and incoherent. You let him do as he pleases, making only choked-up sounds and half-attempted replies.
“Yeah.” Quiet crooning, shushing in your ear, soothing your frantic heart, “I got you. I got you, baby. I got one more for you, alright? And you’re gonna take it, aren’t you? You’re gonna learn your lesson.”
You sob his name with each thrust, chew on your lip distraughtly. You can’t. It’s too fucking much. Stop, you think, please. More, you think, please. Every time you feel thrown off one edge, he takes you to the next one, even higher. He fucks you raw and open and loose and when he finally comes for the last time, you dig half-moons into his arms, curl into the shape of a wounded animal and tremble in pleasure.
-
He cleans himself up. Cleans you too. Soft caresses on the parts of you he marked up, nuzzling his nose into your cheek, imprinted with the creases from the pillowcase. Bucky lays you down slowly, brushes the damp hair from your jaw, settles in next to you with sweet kisses and mindful aftercare.
God, he’s good. Always known what you’ve needed even before you realize it for yourself. Your man.
Wrapping you up his arms when you need warmth. Giving you space when you’re feeling restless. Loving you slow when you’re withdrawn. Loving you hard when you’re aching.
And oh, you ache.
Your body sinks into the sheets. Every synapse shutting down, feeling a rest so deep every cell hums.
“What’re you gonna do tomorrow, bunny?” Gentle prodding, just a little sharp. Hypothetical, of course because he already knows your answer. Already knows you belong to him for the rest of the weekend.
Bucky tugs up the comforter around your shoulders, slotting himself behind your body, enfolding both of you safely. Your lids flutter shut. All the stars in the sky pitch themselves out. The night closes black and endless, eats your mind until you’re lost to sleep.
He pulls you tight to him. Possessive. Caged in. One final scrape of his teeth over the back of your neck like a warning before he muffles a satisfied moan into your hair.
You’re trapped. You’re caught. It’s heaven.
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chokemeanakin · 4 years
Text
Give Me Love
Chapter Four
Wc: 2.3k
MASTERLIST
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You had a lot to lose. A lot. Everything, really.
The issue with the fact that he already supposedly liked you, is that now you had the potential to screw it all up. To make him not like you anymore. One wrong move, one wrong word, and you could lose it all.
The thought had you sweating as you sent your last patient off, tying off his gauze wrapping and slipping a bottle of painkillers into his hand. He thanked you and left, and you blinked back tears, almost wishing he’d stay.
I can’t take this stress.
All day, you’d thrust yourself into your work. The clock ticked over your head, counting down the seconds until Anakin would meet you in this room, and then you’d sneak off to go to dinner. Together. Just you and him. Alone.
Completely at his mercy.
Wrapping sprained ankles and giving IV’s took your mind off of it for the majority of the day, but now it was 7:59, and Anakin had promised he’d be here right on time. Your stomach tossed and turned, hands shaking, impromptu jitters wracking your body. The nausea was slowly creeping its way back up as you put away your materials, washing your hands, winding them in your grasp as you paced the floor.
Knock knock
A stream of silent curses flew through your head. You startled at the noise, heart pounding wildly, but your legs forced you to the door anyway. It looked like someone else’s hand that turned the knob, opening it to reveal the long-awaited Jedi.
He was breath-taking, as usual. Even more so now that you knew what his true thoughts on you were. He held a special fondness for you, the same you held for him, and it was too good to be true. How could this absolute beauty even think to spare a second glance in your direction?
“You’re amazing for doing this,” Anakin grinned, slipping past you into the room. “Seriously, I don’t know what I’d do if I had to sit through that Opera show right now. Dex’s is on me, if I didn’t make that clear yesterday.”
He was already heading toward the back door, not nervous at all. What must that be like? You wondered, To be able to function so smooth and confident, unbothered in the same room as the person you so desperately adore?
To your surprise, a speeder was waiting outside the Jedi temple. A quite expensive one, at that. Your eyes widened as he held the door to the passenger’s seat open, sweeping with his other arm in a gesture to get in.
“Where’d you get this?” you asked, glad you now had a conversation starter. Anakin closed the door for you, a mischievous smirk curling onto his lips as he got into the driver’s side.
“I’m borrowing it from a friend.”
You had a sneaking suspicion that was a lie.
The banter came easily after that, surprisingly so on your part. Each time he made you laugh, your nerves dissipated a little bit more. The cool air whipping past your skin and tangling into your hair was like a balm for your nerves, soothing your feverish temperature and calming your mind for just a few minutes. When you arrived at Dex’s, you almost felt… normal.
Anakin cut the engine as you unbuckled, the neon lights bathing him in red and purple. His eyes sparkled like stars, taking in the lively night streets of Coruscant before him. Everything he did, everywhere he went-- you were beginning to think he was just permanently gorgeous.
You managed to sit on your nerves the whole night. They bit at you from the back of your mind, but you shoved them away, swallowed them down, beat them back with a stick. If things went bad, you bartered with yourself, you could just avoid Anakin for the rest of your life. You didn’t have to see him ever again if you didn’t want to. But… that’s not the way things were going. Things were going well. Better than well.
It surprised you just how much of a gentleman Anakin was. He was certainly good at wooing-- he held the door open for you into the restaurant, and then pulled the chair out for you. Apparently he knew Dex on a friendly-basis, so when the owner of the restaurant came over to greet him personally, Anakin introduced you as his friend.
The words had you soaring.
Admittedly, you were still having trouble looking him in the face. The hour was late and Dex had dimmed the lights. Even so, he was enchantingly beautiful, sitting across from you, tracing his thumb along the lip of a mug. His eyes had a habit of bearing into you, and you wondered if he knew how intense he could be sometimes.
You focused on the way his thumb found the rim of his glass, stroking it ever so slowly, back and forth, back and forth. It hypnotized you into a state of serenity as you tried to ignore the burn of his eyes on your face.
“I make you nervous.”
As if to prove him wrong, you lifted your gaze to meet his. Bad idea. His beauty never failed to land a blow to your chest, robbing you of air and the ability to formulate competent sentences.
“Not… in a bad way.” There was no use lying.
“In what way, then?”
This was not good. His voice was lowering, that seductive purr coming out even though you were sure he didn’t even realize. He was genuinely curious, but the deep rumble of his voice was yanking the nerves back up one by one, forcing you to feel the full brunt of their anger.
“You’re just… you’re intimidating.”
“Intimidating?” he looked like he might laugh, and you tried not to focus on how the arch of his eyebrow made you tingle.
“Very.”
“How so?”
He was back to quizzical, and you were back to feeling like you were going to vomit. Your vision went white, head dunked underwater, when something touched your hand. You realized it was his own. The thumb that you had been watching was now across your knuckles, stroking them gently like it had done to the lip of his mug. You inhaled a trembling breath, distracted by the burning path it seared into your live-wire skin.
Was that supposed to be soothing? Because it had the exact opposite effect.
“I’m sure you know the answer to that,” you turned the question back on him. Really, you had no idea how to answer without admitting the depth of your feelings for him. Or without going into extensive detail on just how ravishing you found him.
The tender caress of his thumb on your skin was flooding your body with pleasurable feelings. You never wanted him to stop. This moment, as he was touching you willingly for the first time, you truly felt on top of the world. Your whole being flooded with warm molasses, cheeks flushed as you drowned in the feeling. Later, you would worry about how dangerous it was that he had such a strong effect on you. For now, you were going to milk every last second that his skin was on yours.
“I’m not sure I do,” his smooth voice brought you back to reality. Suddenly, his thumb stopped and you internally panicked. When he didn’t pull away, you breathed out a sigh of relief. “Y/n, I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” the words felt phony leaving your lips. “Not-- not in a bad way…”
“What does that mean?”
Did you really have to spell it out for him? Was he really going to make you say it?
His words were serious now though, hard. You wanted that twinkle in his eye back, the playful smile. Even more so-- the stroke of his thumb.
“It means,” you shifted your eyes wildly, desperately clinging to any semblance of thought that you could piece together into an explanation, “that I think you’re really… cool. And I don’t want to make a fool of myself around you.”
Ironic, that sentence was. You hoped he couldn’t see your flaming cheeks in the low light of the restaurant.
“You think I’m cool?” At least he was smiling now. It was gentle, teasing, and the sight of it sent sparks of adoration up your spine. Maker, you wanted him…
“Yes,” you bowed your head, overcome with emotion. You couldn’t let him see how soft your eyes had gotten. “I think you’re amazing.”
His heart liquified at your hushed confession. It was like pulling a tooth, getting you to open up to him like this-- but now that he had you where he wanted, he was going to milk it for all it was worth.
“If I’m so amazing, how come you always avoid me?”
“I don’t avoid you.”
He cocked his head, testing.
“Okay. Fine. Whenever I see you… my heart beats all funny. I can’t think straight. And I get hot.”
He’s laughing now, but inside his heart is doing the same as yours. It thuds with hope, fear, and a suffocating reverence for the person across from it. Your eyes narrow at him, annoyed at how easily you let him get the upper hand.
“I don’t like it.”
His laughing stopped, but the smile stayed plastered on his face. Even the thumb on your knuckles resumed, quelling that swirling tempest in your gut.
“No?”
“No. It makes me feel weak. Disoriented. I feel like I have no control over myself when I’m around you.”
Which is exactly the reason you’re spewing these words out now. Was this some kind of Jedi Mind trick? How could you be telling this to him?
“You like me.”
Your eyes snapped up to his face at the same time you pulled your hand back. Your world began to crash down around you-- he knew. Of course he could tell that you had a stupid little crush. You basically just layed it all out on the table for him. All he had to do was piece it together.
You braced yourself for the inevitable worst. This was the part where he was going to tell you how wrong it was, how you had to forget your feelings for him, how you could never see each other again. If this was the last time you would be able to be with Anakin, you wanted to savor every moment. You allowed yourself to look at him-- really look at him.
It was shameless, the way your eyes lingered over his face. For once, you didn’t care how he watched you drink in every detail, the rings of your eyes flickering over every feature-- the delicate curl of his bangs over his forehead, the arch of his dark, shapely brows, the curl of his full, blushing lips, the enchanting peak of his chiselled cheekbones. He was stunning, and as always, it was like looking directly into the sun. Except this time, you let yourself burn.
“It’s not a bad thing,” he played off of your earlier words. Those devilish lips pulled up teasingly, voice low and purring. “I think you’ll be happy to know, I’m quite fond of you myself.”
Blood rushed through your ears, your heart stuttering in your chest. Was he--? Was he serious? Were you hearing his words correctly? Could he actually--?
He was waiting for you to say something. You swallowed thickly, your saliva feeling like a cotton ball in your throat, face and limbs numb with disbelief.
“Oh.”
Is that really all you could manage? You were beating yourself up inside, butterflies waging full-scale armageddon in your tummy. What were you supposed to say? Great, now let’s fuck?
Oh, Maker. That thought was not good for your nerves.
“Relax,” Anakin’s brows furrowed, sensing how anxious you’d suddenly become. You were vibrating slightly in your seat, sweat beginning to form on your skin. “You don’t have to be so nervous around me.”
You thought those words might have helped if you didn’t suddenly have thoughts of you and him… being intimate… barraging your mind. That was a whole other shelf of issues that you didn’t even want to breach tonight.
Internalizing his words, you forced yourself to suck in a burning breath of air. It whistled slightly as it went down, head pulsing at the lack of airflow. You managed to clear the hazey panic from your mind, but your heart still beat as if you were being chased. You really were hopeless.
“Okay,” you managed to breath. Your hands fisted the material of the scrubs on your thighs as you voice your next thoughts. “So… what now?”
“Now…” his eyes flicked away from your face for a moment, finally allowing you to breathe. His throat bobbed slightly as he thought, as if he was nervous too. “Now we do whatever you want.”
“Me?”
“Y/n,” warmth trickled down your spine at the way he whispered your name, leaning in closer to you so no one else could hear. When before you struggled to look at him, now you couldn’t look away. “I’m a Jedi. It’s against the code for me to have these attachments. But… I trust you. And I’d like to… be with you. In whatever way that might please you.”
“But why are you letting me choose?”
“Because if I had to, we’d be all in. I haven’t felt this way about anyone since… since…” his eyes clouded over, and he shook his head. “Nevermind that. I just… I know we barely know each other. But I feel… pulled to you. Just like you said, it makes me feel warm. And good. And I want more of it, all of it…”
His hand lifted off the table as if he meant to touch your cheek, but he caught himself halfway. Eyes darted around the restaurant, realizing where he was again as he lowered his hand.
“I want you. Completely.”
You were definitely sweating now.
The words didn’t even go through that familiar circuit of debate in your mind. They seemed to think themselves into fruition, then speak themselves into the air.
“Then…” your head swam. Stomach quivered. Heart pulsed. “You can have me.”
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softboywriting · 4 years
Text
Gravitation | Nathan Bateman | Ex Machina
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Summary: Twin Flames; a single soul that is split into two bodies. You and Nathan have a connection like none other. He has an idea why, and you’re about to find out. [Soft!Nathan] [Soulmates Trope] [No Use Of Y/N] [Assistant!Reader] [F!ReaderxNathan] [Swearing] [Pet Name] [Invasion of Privacy - Mentioned] [Drunk Nathan] 
Word Count: 5k
|Masterlist in Bio|
The moment you met Nathan you knew there was something about him that was unlike any other person you had met up until that point. It wasn't his massive ego, his minor God complex, or his genius intellect that got your attention. It was his eyes. Something in his eyes held more than his big mouth could ever express, something familiar like you've known him since the day you were born and even before that. You doubt he knows it, that his gaze tells you every truth, every lie, every moment of his history leading up to the moment you met. He feels it though. That you can confirm. He feels something when you stare at him as he speaks and you know that it makes him uncomfortable in a way he doesn't know how to explain because he gives you looks as if you're something he's never seen, something he can't quite figure out. You are an enigma to him some days and it keeps him on his toes.
Two months pass as you live out your days with Nathan in his sprawling complex of a home slash research facility. It was strange how you came to be here, a memory almost it seems. You had been receiving emails for weeks from an unknown sender, something about a research assistant position. You didn't pay much mind, as you weren't looking for an assistant position. You wanted to land a job doing website building for Blue Book. That is what you applied for and that is what you have skill in doing. So when your phone rang in the dead of night and you found out it was the CEO, Nathan, calling you directly about the emails and the assistant position, you were shocked. One thing lead to another and you found yourself living with Nathan while he began building AI.
Being Nathan's assistant isn't exactly what you hoped for, but it's not bad. You get to see how he works, what makes that genius tick. He's not as bad as you had heard, not as full of himself, but maybe that's just because he likes you. Working with him consists of observing him, helping him document things, getting tools and equipment while his hands are full, doing facial tracking studies, talking out loud in long sequences while he records your speech patterns. Some days it feels like he studies you more than he works on the AI. Not that you mind, his gaze is undeniably attracting, so much fascination and wonder behind those wire frame glasses. He leaves you with butterflies and longing for more than casual touches.
______________________
"Nathan?" You call softly from across the lab table he is sitting at, pushing wires into the gel mass brain unit to hook it up to his laptop. "I have a question."
"Shoot."
"Why did you choose me?"
He looks over his glasses as his hands still against the gel mass. He's going to lie, you know this look. It's so easy to tell. "I didn't choose you, it was random, I needed an assistant and you were a good fit."
"That's not like you. You wouldn't have some random mediocre website builder be your lab assistant."
"It's not like me? How would you know?"
"Well, I've been here for two months and I've worked and lived with you nearly every day for all hours except for when I'm sleeping. You're too calculated, precise, and prideful of your work to allow some random person into your life like this. So again, why did you choose me?"
Nathan sits up, folding his arms over his chest as he looks at you with a small smile on his lips. His eyes meet yours and you can tell he's intrigued. He has that look, like you're something shiny and new that he has yet to figure out. God you love that look.
"Well?" You push insistently. He sucks at lying to you and he looks as if he's going to try again.  
"I chose you because I studied you. For weeks I went through your data, your work, your photos and posts on social media. I selected you because I could see something in you that terrified me."
You raise your eyebrows. That was not the response you expected. The data thing did not surprise you, it's Nathan and he can do almost anything on the internet with the software Blue Book is built from. You expected an answer regarding your physical appearance, reducing you to the beautiful assistant, eye candy. Not that you terrified Nathan, which in turn terrifies you because you're not sure what about yourself would ever be deemed as such.  
"Cat got your tongue?"
"Yes." You smile softly, turning your head away to break his gaze. It's too much. Too intense. "You've thrown me for a loop."
Nathan pushes away from the table and walks around it to sit beside you. He turns on the stool and tilts your head to look at him, fleeting fingers careful against your jaw, eyes meeting, faces only a few feet away from each other. "I chose you because I see myself staring back at me."
"What?"
"The eyes are the window to the soul. When I saw your photo I knew I had to meet you in person. I would have done anything to meet you, to see you face to face because I wanted to be right."
"Right about what?"
He gathers your hands into his and your heart beat picks up, cold sweat prickling at the back of your neck. "There is a theory that a human soul can be split into two people. It's interesting to consider, not that I believe it entirely. It's a bit of a fairytale and all. I'm curious though and I wanted to study it."
"So you brought me here to study me?" You swallow harshly. This whole time you've been part of an experiment it seems. Wonderful.
"I did."
"So I'm not your assistant. I'm your specimen."
Nathan drops your hands and stands up, walking around the lab slowly, pacing almost. He has never seemed so nervous. "You're still my assistant. You assist me do you not?"
"Yes."
"Then you're an assistant."
"Nathan. You know that isn't what I mean."
He chuckles. "Don't worry about it too much."
"I'm going to worry. You're studying me!"
Nathan sighs and walks back over to you, cupping your face in his palms as if to make you listen to him better and your heart threatens to explode. He has never been this physically affectionate with you ever yet his touch is so familiar. "I would be studying you anyway. You're my assistant, my little poseable doll, my muse which I collect data from."
"This isn't making me feel any better. Actually, I feel insulted."
"I'm not insulting you."
"Doll?"
"Fine." He says harshly. It's as close to an apology as you will ever get.
"Thank you."
Nathan drops your face and walks away again. He seems anxious now. He strides along the length of the brightly lit lab tables, hands in his pockets. The silence that fills the room is stifling, awkward, and increasingly thick with unsaid thoughts.
You slide off of your stool and wander toward the table in the enclosed chamber at the back of the room. There are mechanical body parts on the table, like a person laid out for an exam or a surgery. It's strange to think that eventually these parts will be a working form, these wires and plastic and metal plates will be an artificial life form that looks and sounds like a real human. You turn suddenly and look back at Nathan. He's staring, your fingers touching the shoulder of the body before you. It's as if you could feel his eyes on you, as if you could see yourself through them actually.
"What're you doing?" Nathan asks as he leans against the entryway, his tone far calmer than his eyes would portray.
"I don't know."
"You don't know? Let me tell you." He steps in the room and around to the opposite side of the exam table. "You're breaking my rules."
You pull your hand away and curl it against your side. "Am I?"
"Yes." He leans on the table, arms open, hands pressed to the cold top. "You're touching my work."
"Nathan I touch your work all the fucking time. I literally carried a leg across the lab for you earlier. What the hell are you talking about?"
"With permission. I gave you permission to carry that leg."
"Okay?"
"Did I tell you that you could come in here and touch this?" He gestures to the parts on the table. "Did you consider that it might not be a good idea to do that?"
"It's just laying here Nathan."
"But do you know that? Maybe I have something going on that requires these to be perfectly still."
"I put these in here yesterday. I laid them down and you haven't moved them since." You cross your arms and stare him down. "You're just trying to start a fight because you don't like the awkward tension in the room and a fight will change the subject off of why you hired me."
Nathan's head snaps up and he glares. Oh how he glares daggers right through your soul. You know you're right and he knows you're right. It's killing him not to have a comeback ready. He was so ready to fight about the AI parts that your breakdown of his thought process has destroyed all means of retaliation. It's satisfying, watching him flounder for a second.  
"Cat got your tongue?" You say with the biggest smirk. His own words, his own choice of phrasing thrown back at him.
"See this is why you terrify me."
"Because I called you on your bullshit?"
"Yes." He turns and heads for the entryway. "You call me out before I even realize what I'm doing."
"So you didn't plan on coming in here and trying to start something?"
"No, I mean I did I guess but it wasn't a coherent thought. I didn't go "oh I'm going to start an argument now because I want to deflect this awkwardness", I just did it because....well I guess it was my instinct." He runs a hand over his head and braces it against the back of his neck. "I need to go for a run."
"It's raining."
"So?"
"Wear a coat."
"Are you my mother now?"
"You're doing it again." You point at him and he scowls.
"I'm leaving."
"I'll run a hot bath."
"For what?"
"For you when you get back inevitably cold and sore because you over do it on the trail."
Nathan growls, literally growls and looks pissed. "Stop! Just stop! Get out of my head!"
You walk out of the chamber and past him toward the hall door. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"
"Don't."
"Didn't do anything."
"You will."
"Maybe. Go run."
"Fuck."
______________________
You decide to do some research of your own while Nathan is gone. You're not supposed to get on his computer, or really contact anyone in the outside world as per your non disclosure agreement. There are exceptions though. You technically cannot discuss anything that happens in the complex but you can discuss everything else. You could call your parents but you've not had the best relationship with them since you took the job with Nathan. They didn't understand, thought you were being coerced by him and they never wanted you to be in the tech field. They wanted you to be a doctor or a nurse. If only they knew how much Nathan paid you. They would forget about that medical field shit so fast. Unfortunately your pay is related to the job so you're not able to discuss it.
You take a seat at Nathan's desk and bring up the center screen. You can see him on the security camera on the backside of the house. He's sitting on the open air deck, rain pouring down on him. Not running. This is actually perfect, you can make sure to get off the computer as soon as he leaves the camera view.  
You pull up Blue Book and search "split soul theories". Tons of information pops up. You wade through the crap. Book titles, movies, songs and stuff. The only information you want is about the actual theory itself. Finally you find it, some spiritual website has the explanation you're looking for.
"Twin flames?" You mutter, skimming through the paragraphs of text.
The pages tell you about the theory that a soul can be split in two and those people are drawn together and are like two sides of the same coin. Kind of like soulmates but deeper, more connected, lives spanning every reincarnation. You shake your head. There is no way this is what Nathan is interested in investigating. It's too wild. He's a man of logic and science and biology. Not spiritual at all. Besides, you're not like him. At least you don't think so. Maybe you are...in some ways you can see how you're similar. That's disturbing and you're not going down that road.
The screen on the left is empty, the camera showing just a feed of the empty deck. Shit. You scramble to close the tab but it's too late.
"Oh dear, what are you doing?"
"Fuck," you whisper and turn around slowly to see Nathan standing in the doorway to the office. He's changed into his favorite white long sleeve and some sweatpants.
"Should I pretend you aren't on my computer with the browser open or should I just fire you now?"
"I wasn't doing anything against my NDA." You stand up and he gives you a look over his glasses.
He moves past you and sinks into his chair, turning abruptly to pull up your closed tab on the browser. "Twin flames huh?"
"Yep. Just looking shit up."
"Uh huh."
"Is that what you think we are?"
"No."
"Then what do you-"
"It's what I know we are." He turns back and raises his eyebrows. "You were watching me on the cams?"
You shrug. "Maybe."
"You're a little shit."
"As if you don't watch me when we aren't together."
"Touché." He stands and circles around to grab a book off the shelf behind you. He flips it open and starts scribbling something down.
You lean over trying to see and he tilts the book up. "What is that?"
"A notebook."
"Smart ass."
"I am." He gives his butt a smack and grins at you cheekily. "Don't worry what this book is."
"Secrets make enemies, don't you know?"
"Yes," he puts the book away on the shelf in plain sight. He knows you won't try to get it. You wouldn't disrespect his things like that, even though the lack of respect for your own is considerable in this house. "I have lots of enemies."
You roll your eyes. "That's because you're insufferable, Nathan."
"No it's because I have secrets."
"Wait, you just changed the subject...circle back here. What do you mean you know we're twin flames? How did I miss that?"
Nathan chuckles and puts his arm around your back. "You'll see, one day."
"What? That doesn't make any sense."
"Oh no it does." He guides you into the hall and closes the door behind him. "Once you think about it long and hard you'll realize it."
You walk ahead of him. "I don't get what that means and you're talking in riddles. I'm going to bed."
"I'm going to make dinner."
"And you're going to eat alone. Goodnight Nathan."
___________________
"I know you're awake." Nathan's voice floats through the door to your room. It's some time after midnight, days since you got into it with him about the twin flame nonsense. Yet it's been playing on your mind nonetheless. "Mi luna, can I come in?"
Mi Luna? What the hell is that about? He must be shit faced drunk. You know if you open that door you won't get any sleep. You also know he could just open it since his card is all access, but he is still asking. It's the little things.
"The door is open!"
Nathan peeks in, just his face appearing around the heavy glass door. "Mi luna, it's so bright in here."
"Yeah? I've got the lamps on. It's subterranean, remember? No windows."
He slides in and closes the door. As if someone were ever going to interrupt the two of you. "Lights off."
The lights go down to just the night lights under the vanity and in the bathroom remain on. You raise your eyebrows at the man walking so carefully across your bedroom. He doesn't seem to be stumbling. That's a good sign.
"What is mi luna all about?"
"Do you like it?"
"I don't know?"
"It means My Moon."
"Okay?"
Nathan flops down on the bed and crushes your feet under his butt. "I was thinking about pet names earlier. I hate them all." He's definitely drunk.
"But you like mi luna?"
"Yeah. Mi Luna y mi sol." He extends his arm up as if to touch something out of reach on the ceiling. "My moon and my sun. Sounds romantic."
"Romantic? Since when do you like anything romantic?"
He turns his head to look at you. You're glad you can't make his face out clearly in the darkened room. You fear his eyes will tell you more than you wish to know. "You make me soft."
"I make you soft? How?"
He lets his arm go limp, falling behind him on the bed. "You're so pretty, and you're smart too. So smart." He sighs heavily like a man with much on his mind. "I've had too much tequila."
You chuckle softly. "Oh boy."
"What?"
"I've never seen you drink it, tequila makes you a different kind of drunk."
"Yeah." He reaches out to you and you take his hand. He wiggles his finger tips against yours and makes a little do-do-do noise to go with it. "I wanna marry you."
"What?" Your heart stops and his hand goes limp under yours. "Nathan, what did you just say?"
"Nothing?"
"No you said you wanna marry me."
"If you heard it then why did you ask?"
"Because I wanted to see if you'd lie."
He scoffs and sits up. "I didn't say that."
"Yes you did!"
"No I didn't. You misheard me. I don't even believe in marriage."
"Nathan."
"I'm going to the lab." He pushes off the bed and wobbles on his feet.
You kick his butt and he stumbles forward. "You're an asshole."
He looks back and even in the darkened room you can see his smile. "Am I?"
"Yes! Now get out of here. I want to sleep a few hours before you inevitably wake me up at an ungodly time despite having slept about three hours yourself."
He chuckles as he pads softly to the door.
"What's so funny?"
"I like waking you up early." He leans on the door frame, allowing it to support his body entirely. "It's my favorite part of the day. Your sleepy little yawns, heavy lidded eyes, they way your voice sounds so soft."
You ball your fists in the comforter and force down the butterflies that stir in your stomach. This isn't Nathan. This is a drunk lonely idiot. You can't catch feelings for him, he's your boss. It's honestly too late but that's not any of his business. "Go!"
"You like meeee!"
"Nathan please just go away!"
"It's my house. I don't have to." He teases and you throw a pillow at him. He laughs and slips out the door to avoid further projectiles.
You pull a pillow over your face and scream into it. He's frustrating, whiplash embodied. Fuck him and fuck how he makes you have butterflies in your stomach.
______________________
"Can I ask you something about the AI?"
"Any time." Nathan says as he punches at the bag hanging on the deck. He's been going at it for about an hour now.
You've been sitting and watching him, curled up on the bench wearing his white long sleeve shirt because it's cool out and you didn't want to go get something of your own. You've been sketching the scene of him boxing as if to preserve the memory. As if you won't be here again in a few days doing the same thing.
"Is this your first? The one on the table that we- you are building?"
He stops, steadying the bag a moment and giving you a troublesome smile. "No."
"What was the first one like?"
He returns to punching the bag in a steady rhythm. "She's human like. A little taller than me. I didn't get to make a head before the body malfunctioned."
You raise your eyebrows. "It was a woman?"
"Is. She is a woman, yes."
"She's still in around?"
"Yes." Nathan hugs the bag and looks at you almost lovingly, clearly excited to show you this AI he's kept a secret. "Do you want to see her?"
You stand from the bench you've been watching him on and he starts unwrapping his hands. You take note how his fingers look a little bruised, as if he were going too hard on the bag. "She's here?"
"Mmhmm."
"Why haven't you shown me?"
"You haven't asked."
"But we've been building a new one for this long. Why wouldn't you tell me you had another?"
Nathan grabs his glasses from the counter in the dining room as you pass through, following close behind him. He chuckles. "This new one is not going to be like the others."
"Others?"
"Yeah, the others."
"Nathan, how many are there?"
"Five?" He glances back and does a little hand motion to signify that he wasn't sure. "No, six."
You stop dead in your tracks outside the lab door. "Six? You've made six?"
He turns at the end of the hall and puts his hands on his hips. "I've been here for three years. Of course I've made six. Come on, do you wanna see them or not?"
You hurry ahead and step into where he's leading you. A lounge with big rock walls and built in cupboards. He scans his badge at the first cupboard door and opens it. Inside is half of a bot, no head, just a mechanical body with legs and no arms.
Nathan opens the next one. It has a head with a face, no legs but a torso and an arm. He opens the rest and you walk down the line. The closer you get to the end you realize they look more and more human. They have skin, and unique features, hair and everything. It's when you reach the last one that your heart stops.  
Before you is a spitting image of yourself. It's as if you were made of wax. Not quite right but not off the mark. She's complete, no missing parts, but only her face is skin, the rest is the robot base model.
"Do you understand now?"
"I don't understand anything. What the hell is this?" You step back, hands clinging to your sweater at your stomach. "Nathan what is going on?"
"I built her last year. This is part of the reason why you terrify me."
"But you said...you said that you saw yourself in me and that's what terrified you?"
Nathan closes the door and stands in front of you. "You're freaked out, I get it. When I said I saw myself I meant my mind, my vision. Not like me, obviously you don't look like me. I see my soul reflected back at me."
You stumble back onto the futon and stare up at the man before you. "You brought me here because of that? Because you made a bot that looks like me?"
He steps forward and sinks down, squatting in front of you, hands landing on your thighs. "I saw you in a dream, a very vivid dream like I was in another life all together and I modeled her after what I saw because I couldn't forget. I had no idea you were real until I came across the twin flame theory while researching dreams and I decided to try and find you."
"But how did you find me?"
"Blue Book. Once I made her I scanned her face for recognition and found hundreds of matches. I cross referenced her specific features, rough age estimate, a few other things and then I found you."
You shake your head in disbelief. "I was trying to work for Blue Book. I put in dozens of applications. I was gravitating toward you all along."
"Yeah." He says breathily. "Yeah you were."
"You're my soulmate?"
"Mmmhmm." He rubs your thighs comfortingly. "It's more than that. Soulmate is a pretty blanket term but what we are is twin flames. A soul split in two that rejoins in every lifetime. I never believed in something like that, but that dream was so unlike anything I've experienced it changed my mind. I'm a man of logic and science not fairy tales and fantasies. It tore me up for a long time."
You let out a little bubble of laughter and you quickly cover it up because it's not funny, it's disbelief. "You? Nathan Bateman is my other half?"
"Don't say it like that. It's not funny."
"This is a gag right? You made that mold of my face and slapped it on the AI for this. You're fucking with me." You push him and he falls back onto his ass. "You're an asshole."
"What?!" He gets to his feet as you stand from the futon. "You think I'm lying to you about this?!"
"Yes! Why would a man like you ever believe in that stuff? You don't even believe in marriage. You're lying to get me to sleep with you or something. You're playing into my feelings and fantasies and hopes of someday finding someone to share my life with forever." You head for the doorway and Nathan grabs your hand to stop you. "Let me go. This is cruel. I never thought you would go this fucking far as to-"
"I would never do that to you." In one fluid motion he pulls you close, cradles your face and presses his lips to yours. Fireworks explode behind your eyes as they fall closed. Your heart races, body frozen against his as the world comes crashing down around you. All at once you're dizzy, breathless, excited. You're overloaded, overwhelmed and you don't know what is happening.
"Do you feel it?" He asks and you open your eyes to find him only inches away. The moment your gaze meets his you know he isn't lying. "You're the only person who I've ever felt this connection with. You know how picky I am."
"You're not lying." You mutter, remembering all the times you couldn't stop staring at him. The times when you couldn't remove your eyes from his once they met. The way you move seamlessly around each other, as if you knew each other's next move every step of the way. And most of all how you can't imagine being away from him, how you never get tired of being in his company. "Since we met I've had this feeling, and when our eyes meet-"
"We can't look away."
"Yeah." You lay a hand on his cheek, fingers fanning out over his beard. It's a strange feeling, foreign under your touch. "What do we do now?"
"We keep going."
"Keep going? Going where?"
"Ahead, with the AI, with our relationship." Nathan presses his head to yours. "Together we're going to make a perfect AI. If I hadn't started this, gotten this far into it and made the AI I based off of the dream I had of you, we wouldn't be here right now. You wouldn't be here, we wouldn't have met. I wouldn't be able to make the newest model without you."
"Yes you could. This isn't like you to say you need someone. Have you slept?"
He chuckles. "Yes I've slept."
"You could make this AI without me. You don't need me."
"But I do." He steps back, cradling your face in his hands, thumbs on your cheeks stroking softly. "You've been the key to everything. I can study your features, your expressions, your eyes...fuck your eyes, man. Sure I can get all the data from Blue Book like I did before but you're different. You make me think differently about everything."
You lean into his hand on your cheek. "Kiss me again."
"Don't have to tell me twice." He slides his arms around your back and pulls you flush against him. His mouth covers yours, a sweet kiss turning hungry quickly. He backs you against the wall, arms caging you in as he licks into your mouth. He lets out the softest moan as your hand explores his chest. It's the most vulnerable you've ever seen him.
You arch against him and he lifts your leg up as you hook it around his. You run your hand over his back and stop at his shoulders, cradling the back of his neck. "This is what Nathan in love looks like?"
He kisses along your jaw and pulls back, glasses a little askew. He looks wrecked, completely gone. Like he's drunk but on you instead of liquor. He smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips.
"You're damn right it is."
End
______
Thank you for reading. Please reblog if you enjoyed! - A
Header by delicate-venus
*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****
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ambrial-blog · 2 years
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Blitzo winces, his head throbbing painfully, eyes sore and sensitive to light. He groans, his mouth as dry as cotton.  
Where was he?. 
What happened?
The last thing he could remember was Stolas’s face hidden behind a menu: bits and pieces of that night flooded back to him as he awoke strapped to a table. 
The Boss imp cries out in pain, feeling his bones contort, shrinking he struggles in his restraints: which had specs of blood, blotted everywhere. his limbs were both sore as his head lulled listlessly to the side.  
He was inside a tin, rusted out old trailer hidden in the back of Asmodeus’s grand house of lust. His cries were muffled by a strap of leather bound to his mouth. 
The scarlet devil whimpers, but it is no use. No one can hear him cry. With tears in his eyes, he looks around: he was attached to a makeshift lab. There was an IV drip that lead up and into his arm. His eyes wide and fearful, he searches the room. 
Fizzorolli’s grinning face pops up in his line of view. 
“Wakey, Wakey BlitzO,” 
“Bad dreams?” Fizzorolli said while adjusting the drip. 
-
“Here, let me get that. After all, were family” Too bad about your sister should’ve fucked her when I had the chance. 
“But then again, she wasn’t you,” Fizzorolli told him. But I’m going to give you another chance the jester spoke. this time you’ll be happy with what you are. No memories of your past life as a boss imp will exist.
“No-one, will find a sad little BlitzO. You can smile at last,” 
Blitzo held back the tears collecting at the corners of his eyes.
“Your body is already regressing.. soon your mind will follow,” the jester told the Harlequin. 
An image of Barbie-Wire plummeting to her death burns through his mind as Blitzo closes his eyes. He could still hear her piercing scream echoing through his head as she called out for her little brother. 
The sudden gasps filling the big top, and Mammon standing up in the bleachers with a worried look on his face, his eyes locking on the surviving sibling. Fizzorolli had planned it all out. 
He’d finally be sharing the limelight with his obsession. But this time would be different, the jester told himself as he pours some water into Blitzo’s mouth. I’ll groom you BlitzO. Mammon will have no choice but to take you back to Loo-Loo-land, where he will work you until you can no longer move. 
“I can’t have you. Stashed here, it would be too obvious your little critters would try to find you. But when they catch onto what I’m planning for you, my Harlequin, it will be too late,” He cackles.  
-
 Each day Blitzo would ask if anyone was looking for him, his hopes growing dim as each day Fizzorolli would lie to him. 
“Who would love you, you can’t even tell a joke right” the jester cracks a grin. But that will all change  
Blitzo hated to admit it, but his memories were fading. He couldn’t remember what he had said five minutes ago. When Fizz went away for the night, he’d take out his phone and look through some pictures, but he couldn’t recognize half of them. He stared for almost an hour into Moxie’s face before a name came to mind. 
He cried. 
-
Then one day, he asks if the jester if they were friends, and why would the clown put him through this amount of torture? Did he hate him? Had he wronged the clown?. 
How long had he known Fizzorolli?. 
Blitzo cries out, feeling his bones crack and contort as Fizzorolli checks on his vitals. It was already demeaning the way Fizz had put a catheter inside him.
Fizz was giving him a sponge bath. “We’ve always been friends. Don’t you remember Blitzo sneaking out to get some popcorn and snacks, watching wacky and zany cartoons on the projector outside the big top? The way your sister used to snitch on us when she caught us necking” “
“Snitches get stitches”, he sang-songed into Blitzo’s ear.  
“Barbie never liked me. She always thought I was a bad influence, so you see BlitzO, that’s why she had to go-”
Blitzo shook his head. Where did she go?
what was Fizz talking about?.
“you see Blitzo, you were lost to us years ago, you and your sister ran away from Loo-Loo-land leaving me behind,”
“I forgave you because she dragged you away from me. She’s always hated me!” snarls Fizzorolli. 
“What did you do?- fizz!” Blitzo cries. 
“I did what I had to, to ensure that you stayed, but you never did- you always wanted something bigger and better. You thought you were special BlitzO, the truth is you aren’t.” 
“None of us are,” Fizzorolli continues. Barbie filled your head with fairytales, but your mother dies, leaving Mammon to take care of two orphans” spat Fizzorolli.
Blitzo could’ve sworn he saw green fire flashing in Fizz’s eyes as he recoils from the jester. 
“you are going through some changes. Don’t be scared BlitzO, it’s for the best you want to be my friend right, to stay together forever. I can make that happen,” Fizzorolli told him. 
There were days, horrid days of clarity when Blitzo could recall everything, remember everyone: his daughter, his employees and Stolas.. pain sears through his chest as Stolas’s face flashes through his head. 
“Striker was right,” he thought. “He was using me. He would’ve found me by now if he cared.. but here I am alone with a demented clown. now he was regretting not taking the offer the cowboy had given him. The wrangler had given him a way out on a silver platter and the boss imp had spat at him. 
But he wasn’t thinking clearly nowadays. and as soon as he was finished with the de-aging process, no one would recognize him. The Boss imp was dead, long live on the Harlequin.  
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-
“Lookee here, what a masterpiece you’ve turned out to be” Blitzo couldn’t believe it at first Fizzorolli was unbuckling a few straps as he angled a long mirror so that the scarlet devil could look into the mirror. 
A porcelain face with a heart-shaped crest and black eyes peers back: he’s mute, he realizes as he tries to scream in frustration. The effects of the serum are not permeant but this is BlitzO. 
“Lets play pretend shall we, my little lost Harlequin”  
.Lord Mammon is coming for your debut. I can’t wait to show him the improvements I made. “So what do you say, that we give him a performance that will get him salivating for more?”
Blitzo gaped back into the full-length mirror, a silent scream mirroring his face.
“What-what did you do to me!” The Boss imp screams in his head. 
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