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gh0stly-pages · 2 months ago

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Out of Our Minds (Part 5)

Ledger!Joker x Harley Quinn-esque f!reader (18+)

CW: violence by gunfire and gas, implied deaths/fatal injuries

Words: 5.8k

Chapter Summary: After a long night of plans, you're ready to break your patient out of Arkham Asylum

previous part: part 4

Notes: Welcome back! sorry for the long wait, life has been pretty busy but here's the next part! Things are really cooking up in this one. Just wanna preface that in this series you are NOT a good guy, you're turning into a villain like Joker, so there will be lots of violence and so if you're uncomfortable with that stuff I advise you not to keep reading! I won't be getting graphic though (and I really hope that I don't have to be the one to remind you that in real life, murder bad) Also this whole chapter includes a plot for breaking out of Arkham that is very farfetched but we're gonna pretend like it makes sense, okay? okay. Enjoy!

Arkham is cloaked in shadows.

The patients are forced into these shadows, pushed there by people desperate to remain in the light. They want to be the light. To show themselves as all things good and pure. They walk around with their chins held high and their shoulders back, clucking like birds. They are bright. Intelligent. Classy. Or so they want to be seen as. What lurks beneath is all darkness.

These people avoided the shadows, and thank goodness for that.

As you lurked in the shadows, preparing for the madness to come, you couldn’t help but smile.

_________________________________________

Your heart is pounding as you approach the two guards outside of Joker’s cell. You’ve managed to move his session to be the last one of the day, and the anticipation has been killing you.

You don’t know how you got here. You don’t mean literally, you know how you got there, walking with shaking legs through security, scared that somehow they would see it in your face. That you were hiding something. They didn’t even question you, waving you along while looking bored. After that, you realized they couldn’t read you at all. They simply didn’t care. So now, you hold yourself with confidence, hoping everything goes just the way you planned.

But getting here, being Joker’s accomplice, that you were still figuring out.

“Hello boys,” you say to the guards, even though they’ve seen you enough times to know the drill. They hand you the little remote, enter the code, and the door unlocks. Not a single word exchanged. You give them your best bitchy smile before walking through the doors. “Thanks.”

There Joker is, his face paint still intact, though smudged. You let out a deep sigh of relief, and while the door closes behind you, you take your seat, not exactly sure where to start. “Mr. J,” is all you can manage to get out.

Joker leans forward, dark eyes glinting. “Yes, sweets?”

You take a deep breath. “Are you ready to break out of Arkham?”

The smile on his face is like none other you’ve ever seen from him. It’s giddy, it’s dangerous, it’s thrilling. God, you love it. “Doll, that, ah, might just be one of the best things I’ve ever heard you say.”

It took you all night to think up a plan, with the little time you had. You knew you had to take advantage of just how little people cared for you, finally it was serving as a positive. You’d racked your brain, setting up a giant piece of paper on your wall and drawing out the layout of Arkham. You’d marked where the guards would be, how they’d move, the security cameras and alarms scattered around the building. It had all looked like a mess at first. A puzzle you wouldn’t be able to put together. Yet the more you thought about it, the more you realized you were thinking too much about how to perfectly escape and not how to rely on your own strengths. Not only could you fly under the radar, but you were light on your feet, had learned a few tips from Joker on weaponry, and the only people who (mostly) respected you in Arkham were your patients.

You’d not gotten any sleep but it was worth it as you pieced everything together. The main part of your plan did not necessarily involve high level theatrics like J, but Arkham was in for one hell of a ride.

Reaching up into your hair, you pull out a hair pin, reaching over and grabbing Joker’s wrist. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” you say, starting on attempting to unlock the cuffs. Joker’s lesson was somehow still fresh in your mind but it wasn’t an easy task. “I’m going to press the button on my remote that will alert the two guards outside the door to come in. We’ll be standing on either side of the door, and we’ll need to take them both out.” To your surprise, the handcuffs unlock with a small click, and you beam as the cuffs fall away.

Joker lifts his hand, moving his wrist, which is partially bruised from the cuffs. “And what about the other layers of security?”

“There’s two layers of security. That was the tricky part, but I’ve talked to a few of my patients and they’ve agreed to… start a ruckus as a distraction. As long as most guards are occupied with the patients, the ones out there won’t have backup. We can knock them out easily.”

He smacks his mouth. “It all sounds too easy.”

You move to his other wrist, pushing the hair pin into the cuff. “I know, but it’s not gonna be easy. Things are going to go wrong but we’ve gotta try.” Again, with a bit of a struggle, the cuffs pull open with a satisfying click. You look down at his ankles, grateful that it seems he hasn’t been cuffed there. “You’re free.”

He stands up, stretching himself out, and you watch with earnestness as he groans and cracks his knuckles. “Not just yet, dolly. Got that remote handy?”

You grab the remote from your purse before tossing the purse to the side. You won’t be needing that anymore. “Got it.” As you stare down at the remote, everything hits you way too fast, like a mallet to the chest. Your breathing falters, your heartbeat speeding up with a rapid bump bump bump-. It’s not that you’re scared, not necessarily, but you’re scared that you’ll fail both you and Joker. You’re not J. You don’t know how to do this shit. “I…”

Everything goes blurry and it takes you a second to realize Joker has moved in front of you. He places his hands on your shoulders, bending slightly to look you right in the eye. “You’ve got a sharp mind, dolly. I, ah, know you wouldn’t fail,” he says, an odd reassurance but it works, and you can feel your breathing go a bit steadier. Then you realize how close the Joker is. He’s touching you, no cuffs, no table between you, no barriers. He’s right in front of you, all of him. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Right,” you mumble, straightening yourself. Much to your disappointment, he drops his hands from you, moving towards the door. You suppose it’s now or never. With a shaky breath, you follow after him, moving to the opposite side of the door. Now, the both of you stand on either side, prepared for whatever comes your way. “Ready?” you ask him.

He nods. “Ready, Doc.”

You press the green button.

The both of you press your backs to the wall as you hear the door click open. It’s far too early into the session for you to be leaving, so the guards must know something is wrong. The first guard walks in, the door swinging open so that it blocks the view of J, while you hold your breath to keep quiet. The guard doesn’t notice you, and his mouth drops open as he sees the table empty. He draws his gun, holding it out. “What the fu-“

Springing into action, Joker grabs the guard from behind, picking him up and throwing him across the room. The guard screams, his gun flying away from him as he hits the floor. In one quick swoop, Joker grabs the gun off the floor and jams the butt of it into the guard’s head, just as the other guard runs inside the room, already firing shots. J made it look so easy, but this other guy is your problem. Filled with a sudden adrenaline, you come up behind him, kicking him forward. You’re not the strongest, so he only stumbles, immediately whipping around to try and shoot you. Combat certainly isn’t your strong suit, not yet, but you can move exceptionally well. You sidestep him as he tries to ram the gun into your stomach, and you opt to knee him in the groin. He groans and tries to shoot you again, and you squeal as the bullets pierce the walls. Thank god the room is soundproof otherwise the guards outside would have come running in. From the corner of your eye, you catch Joker watching you. He’s holding the gun. He could shoot the guy easily but he doesn’t. He wants you to take the guard down.

“Bitch,” the guard mutters, opting to try and throw himself on top of you just for you to dodge him again, lifting your leg and giving him a good knock to the ribs. He cries out, and as he tilts to the side, you give him a good punch to the temple. With a sick pleasure, you watch as he collapses to the floor, eyes wide open, barely breathing. Quickly, you grab his gun, not wanting to take any chances.

You look up at Joker, who’s smiling as he watches you catch your breath, gripping the gun in your hand. “Impressive, doll. Though, ah, you definitely need to work on your skills.”

“You’re the one who gave me a night to think of this,” you grumble, and he chuckles. “Wasn’t exactly able to take a defense class.”

“I’ll teach ya.”

Suddenly, the room begins to glow red, sirens blaring that make your bones vibrate. You look at him in panic, he looks at you with excitement. Clearly, you both have very different definitions of fun. The sirens aren’t for you though, the Arkham security team doesn’t like to cause commotion for just a single patient causing mayhem. The patients must have started a ruckus, whether it be a riot or starting a fight with one another, you hadn’t gone into the details. You just told them to be distracting.

You tilt your head towards the door. “Coming?”

“You go first, doll.”

You move ahead, prying the door open. Two more guards stand in the room, talking in hushed whispers beneath the blare of the siren. They don’t even notice you as you hold out the gun, firing into one guard’s shoulder and immediately spinning and shooting the other one in the hand. The guard whose hand you shot drops to the floor, their gun hitting the ground alongside them, and you quickly move forward and kick it. But as you kick the gun, a bullet flies out in front of you, nearly grazing your nose, and you spin around, the guard who you shot on the shoulder aiming his gun right at you. Fuck. You tense as his finger moves to pull the trigger again but before he can move any farther a bullet digs into his side and then one into his chest and he goes limp.

You turn to see Joker huffing with the gun in his hand still smoking. “Doll, you’ve got a lot to learn. You’re not even-“ He turns and shoots the other guard in the chest “-getting in good shots. You’re leaving yourself vulnerable. Gotta make sure you get em’ where they can’t shoot back.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, suddenly feeling embarrassed. You didn’t expect to be this unprepared.

Seeing your expression, Joker falters a bit. “No apologies. I’ve told you, it, uh, doesn’t mean anything to me. It’s just a word.” He comes up to you and nudges you with his shoulder. “C’mon. Last room of guards before we have to run, right?”

“Right.”

“Well then,” he says, pointing to the door with his gun. “You first.”

This time, you don’t want to screw things up. You put the gun behind your back, pulling the door open with your other hand and entering the final room. This room has a security camera in the corner, so you don’t want to go in all guns blazing. You have an idea, and with the gun, gesture for Joker to stay hidden. You hope that’s what your gun waving conveys anyways. Three guards turn to look at you, the ones that greeted you when you first came in, two men and a woman. They’re all masked but you can make out the slight outline of their face beneath the face shield.

The woman runs forward, no gun drawn, leaving it still hanging at her hip. “Miss l/n, what happened?” She tries to crane her neck to see behind you but you’ve inched the door closed enough so she can’t see too much on the other side. “What happened with the nutbag? Are the guards attending to him?”

You nod rapidly, trying to look like you’re startled. Your acting skills might need some touching up, another thing to work on. “Yes, I- I just wasn’t feeling very comfortable… Felt like I needed to get out of there.”

The woman snorts. “Alright, ma’am. Well, is there anything you need from us? Some other whackos are causing a disturbance.”

“Yes, I, um-“ You pull out your gun. “I need you to step aside and let us through.” You slam the barrel into her stomach, sending her flying backwards, and in one fluid motion you shoot the security camera in the corner and then train your gun on one of the other guards. You can sense Joker step out from behind you, shooting the other guard before he can even lift his own gun. The guard you’ve trained your gun on aims his gun right back at you. “You’re gonna let us go, ain’tcha?” you say, trying to keep your voice from shaking. You have to remain confident. “Or else this bullet is going in your head, right, Mr. J?” you say, looking at Joker. If you’re gonna be a villain to these people, might as well play the part.

Joker nods, mimicking your stance and pointing his gun at the guard. “Whaddya say, doll, what should we do if he, uh, refuses to listen?”

You tighten your finger on the trigger. “I can think of a few things.”

The guard drops his gun, raising his hands in surrender. It sends warmth through your chest. Even if it's sickly satisfying. You feel proud. “Okay, okay,” he blubbers, looking between them both. “Please just don’t kill me, I’ll let you go, please.”

Joker giggles. “How generous, you know, normally I’d use you to get out of this place but I don’t think we need the extra weight.” Joker shoots the man in his left hand, bam, then once in the other, bam. “Looks like you won’t be able to do much! Buh-bye!” The man faints immediately.

Seeing Joker at work, this sinister side of him you’ve only seen on the screen, makes you shiver, and your grip on the gun only tightens, knuckles going white. “The uniform. Take his uniform.”

Joker pouts at you. “Aw, it ain’t even my color.”

“J,” you warn.

“Kiddingggg, doll. Why so serious?” Grabbing the man, Joker strips him of his uniform roughly, getting each piece off before stripping out of his own clothes. Your cheeks turn pink and it all happens so fast before you can even think to turn your head and give him privacy. He pulls his shirt up over his head, chest in full display. The first thing that catches your eyes are all the scars and bruises littering his stomach, pink and jagged, scars you want to trace beneath your fingertips. He’s surprisingly toned, just like his arms. Not muscular exactly, but strong looking. Before you can get a better look, he pulls on the guard’s black undershirt, then fastens on the bulletproof vest. When he catches you staring, he grins. “Enjoying the show?”

You turn your head as he kicks off his pants, though you can still see him in your peripheral, throwing on the black cargo pants the guard had donned. “No,” you lie.

“And, are you, uh, gonna be gracing us with a costume change as well?”

You bite back a smile. “No.”

“Pity.”

When he’s finally done, you turn around just as he puts on the helmet. You don’t like that it’s hiding his face from you but you can still see his scarred smile if you look hard enough. “Lookin’ good, soldier,” you tease, saluting him.

His lips twist into a smirk. “Lucky I like givin’ orders. Let’s move.”

“Okay, J, for this part, you’ve gotta follow me. I’ll run up ahead and lead you down to where we need to go, you gotta take out anyone you can. Got it?”

“Let’s see if we die or not, shall we?”

“You could try and be positive .”

You open the door, poking your head out to look around, and shit, it’s chaos out there, guards running back and forth, clearly busy with whatever the patients started. You can hear screams, banging, and laughter beneath the sound of the still screeching sirens. The place still glows a flashing red. You point to the right, down a long hallway. “This way!” you shout, running towards a set of doors at the every end of the hall. Arkham is a bit of a labyrinth but you know it well. Down that hallway leads to another hall which leads to more doors which then, finally, leads to the staff wing of Arkham. It’s where the back exit/entrance is. And also where you’ve parked your getaway vehicle.

You don’t wait for Joker, but you can hear his steps behind you, the combat boots he stole pounding on the floor. Nobody seems to notice either of you at first, or they’re too busy to even give it any mind. You know eventually someone will run past Joker’s conference room and realize he’s not inside. His room empty. All traces of him gone. But you hope you’ve bought at least a bit of time.

As you run, more guards run past you, and you’re nearly knocked off course as one bumps your shoulder. You keep steady on your feet though. Thank goodness for all those gymnastics lessons. The only time you glance over your shoulder is to make sure Joker is behind you before you push through the doors. Once you see him in all his suited up glory, you carry on through the doors, Joker just a step behind. “To the right again,” you yell. There’s less guards down here, but that means even more likely you’ll be caught. Already, you can see them turn to you, wondering what the hell you’re doing running off with one of the guards close behind. As the two of you run, one of the guards turns their attention to you. “Hey! What are you two doing?” the guard barks, running up in front of you. “The lady has a gun!”

You could probably give them an excuse that you’re running away from the danger but you feel too angry. “Running to safety, dumbass!” you say, using the gun like a hammer and hitting them on the head like a game of whack-a-mole. That was a hell of a lot more fun than shooting a gun. As the guard crumples to the floor, at least five other guards take notice, and you have to quickly jump over the guard’s unmoving body to run as fast as you can through the doors. You can hear gunshots explode all around you, it’s like a miracle you’re not hit, and you can tell which gunshots come from the guards and which from J. But before you know it, every single one of them falls flat on the floor. “Nice one, J,” you say, and he cuts up ahead of you, opening the door for you.

“Ladies first,” he says.

“So gentlemanly.” You shoot out ahead of him. Now you’re in the staff hallway, lined with doors which leads to locker rooms and places to conduct meetings. At the very end of the hall is the exit. You’d be jumping for joy if it wasn’t for the fact that any second more guards would be chasing after you.

You grab his arm, pulling him down the hall, running faster than you ever have in your entire life. “Exit this way!” you scream through the chaos, heading into the “staff only” area of the building. Looming ahead of you, just down the hall of rooms and lockers, is the staff exit, leading to the back end of Arkham. You look over to Joker. “You ready?”

Joker moves his arm away from you, instead grabbing onto your hand with his own free one. “As I’ll ever be.”

The two of you barrel down the hall, practically slamming into the exit doors, desperately tugging them open. There doesn’t seem to be many people around except for a few guards lining the outside, and Joker moves to take care of them as you yank him towards your car. Well, your stolen car. You weren’t gonna risk coming in your own vehicle. “Here,” you say, pointing to a black car in front of you. Letting go of J’s hand, you stuff yourself into the driver's seat, and Joker shoots at another guard before cramming himself into the passenger seat. “Drive,” he yells, and you grab the keys from your pocket, turn them in the key hole, and slam on the pedal. He throws off his mask, tossing it in the back seat. “Faster!”

As you get to driving, you remember the final bits of your plan. The part you’re most proud of. “Hey, J, wanna hear what other distraction I planned?” you yell over the roar of the engine, as you swerve around the parking lot.

“Whaddisit?”

“Gas! The same kind they might have used on you. Rigged it all up on my own. The patients should be all rounded up in their cells by now and the guards? They’re getting knocked out cold!”

You have to focus, but you turn towards Joker, your heart swelling in your chest when he looks impressed. His eyes are wide as he pulls down the window and looks back at Arkham as you pump it straight out of the parking lot, taking down the small security gate. In your rear view mirror, you can see green explosions of gas within the windows. If all worked well, only the guards should be getting knocked out about now, leaving no one to come after you. Police will be on their way, but that at least gives you a bit more time and them a distraction. Plus, they aren’t sure what they’re looking for, no clue what car or who helped Joker escape, not until they can wake the guards.

Now, you realize, you can’t just go back to your apartment. It’s too risky. You look at J as you slow the car, trying to blend in with the rest of Gotham traffic. You failed to plan this far. “J, I don’t know where to go now.”

“I do,” he says, leaning over, making sure not to put too much weight on you or crush you as he takes hold of the wheel. “Just pump the gas, doll, I’ll get us somewhere safe.”

It sounds like a horrible idea, but you nod. You’d make it work. “Okay,” you say, and as the light turns green, you hit the gas. It’s scary as hell just controlling the gas, letting Joker swerve you both around, but you trust him. Ha, funny. You trust the Joker. He drives you towards the outer parts of Gotham, and as you enter a rather dingy residential street, he moves the car off the road. “Park it here,” he says, and you obey, pressing the brake and shifting the car into park.

“Why here?”

“I’ve got a spot around here.”

“You have an apartment?”

He snorts. “No, I’ve got a, uh, hideout spot in one of the abandoned warehouses at the outskirts of Gotham. And it wouldn’t be very wise to park right outside the entrance.”

Smart, you hadn’t thought of that. Clearly you lack experience in this realm. You grab the keys and throw open the door, Joker doing the same, and the two of you begin walking on the sidewalk, Joker taking the lead. Darkness has already set over the city, and the two of you walk beneath the light of dim street lamps. It’s cold out, and your white coat isn’t exactly meant to keep you warm, so you hug yourself to try and keep away the chill. “Is it very far?” you ask, and you realize this is the first quiet time you both have had together since escaping. You’ve been too anxious over escaping to even think about everything that’s happened. To think of how the Joker is right next to you, taking you to one of his many hideaways.

Joker shakes his head. “Not too far, doll.”

Silence settles upon you both, the two of you far too preoccupied with getting to the warehouse to say much of anything else.

As you walk, the blare of sirens starts up in the distance, and when you turn behind you, you can see police lights in the distance. You’re positive they’re not for you, not yet, but if they even caught a glimpse of the Joker, the two of you would be over. Joker knew this too, clearly, grabbing your arm and picking up his pace, practically dragging you as he began to run. Everything is a blur as the two of you fly through the streets. Even though you’re not bad at running, after a few twists and turns, your legs start to hurt, your chest feeling heavy. But Joker doesn’t stop, probably used to running from lord knows what. Before you can register anything, you’re climbing over gates and Joker pushes open the large doors of the abandoned warehouse, pulling you in and up a crumbling flight of stairs until you reach the second floor.

Finally, Joker and you stop moving, taking time to catch your breath. Fuck, everything hurts.

You gasp, throwing yourself against the concrete wall of the warehouse, sliding down until your butt hits the floor. Your chest moves rapidly up and down as you try to catch your breath. Joker crouches in front of you. “Breathe, just breathe, good girl.” He holds out his arms. “C’mere.”

Immediately, you lean forward and throw your arms around him, going limp. He stands up, taking you with him, your legs dragging lifelessly on the floor until only the tips of your toes touch the concrete. You bury your face into his shoulder, and for a second everything feels right. Finally, a quiet moment, and everything crashes down on you, every decision you’ve made. It takes a second for you to process that you’re hugging the Joker, and he’s letting you hug him back. This man, this villain you’d become infatuated with, was holding you close. You’ve imagined something like this before, even when you didn’t want to, but this is better than any of that. “We did it,” you mumble into his guard shirt, which smells like rust and gunsmoke. “We escaped.”

“You did it,” he says, and when you finally pull back to look at him, he’s smiling at you. He gently settles you back on to the floor. “They’re going to come looking for us though. We’ll need to lay low for the moment.”

“In here?” It’s strange to be so close, your arms still wrapped around his neck. “This where you usually stay?”

“I stay all over.”

“Very spacious,” you say, moving your head to look around. “Where do you sleep though? On the hard floor?”

“Chaos doesn’t sleep, darling.”

“No, but people sure do.” You tug gently on one of his locks of hair and he growls. “You need sleep.”

“Can’t sleep now. Not when we’re being pursued.” He wrinkles his nose. “This your first time being a wanted criminal?”

“Duh.”

“I really can’t believe you did it, doll. Made up a whole plan and everything and got me out of Arkham.” Much to your dismay, he moves away from you, walking to some other part of the building. You hesitantly follow after him. “We can camp out here for the night but then we’ll have to move.” In a secluded corner of the room, a moth-eaten curtain hangs from the ceiling, concealing that whole part of the room. Joker takes the curtain in his hand, then looks at you. “Course, we can’t exactly fend for ourselves without weapons, can we?”

Yanking back the curtain, on the other side is a wall full of all sorts of weapons. Guns, knives, even TNT. There’s crates full of clothes, Joker’s clothes, you assume. Some clown masks. All sorts of tools for mischief. You look at it all like a child in a candy store. “J, this is amazing. Isn’t it kind of risky keeping it locked up in here though?”

“I’ve got some goons guarding it. And nobody in Gotham comes in here anymore, I’ve made sure of it.” He shrugs. “If anyone were to find it, let em’ take it, I’d just get duplicates and use them all on the thief.”

You move forward to get a better look at everything as Joker drifts behind you. It should be scary just how much violence is here at his fingertips but know it just makes you swell inside.

“So, how about it, doll? Pick your poison,” Joker says, holding your shoulders from behind. You look over all your options. The guns weren’t exactly your style, you were better at hitting people with them than you were at shooting them. The blades looked nice, and you’d like to learn to use them, but they could only do so much. Something that did catch your eye, sticking out from the other weapons, was a mallet in the corner. It was a tad comically large, definitely not the regular kind you’d see on a construction site. You move forward, Joker moving with you, and grab the handle.

“Whaddya have this one for?” you ask.

“Uhhhh, to kill people with?”

You glare at his snarky response, though you’re still smiling. “I figured that much. Where’d you get it from though?”

“Amusement Mile.” The old, abandoned theme park towards the other end of Gotham. It’s been shut down ever since you were a child, but you remember your parents driving past it. Seeing a place that must have been so exciting and colorful look so dark and decrepit was chilling. “Found it at one of those old high striker games. Adjusted it a bit.”

Lifting it, you test the weight. It’s definitely heavy, but the weight is distributed evenly, making it easy to maneuver. You give it a quick swing, the whoosh of the mallet like music to your ears. This was what you needed. Sturdy, not too hard to wield, and perfect to pair with your swiftness. “I want this one.”

“Gonna play a game of whack-a-bat with that one?” He maneuvers in front of you, grabbing the handle of the mallet before you could give it another swing. “You can take that one. But you need a gun too. The mallets they’re, uh, too big to get around places sometimes.”

You look back at the wall and point at a small silver gun. “I’ll take that one too.”

He grins. “Are you sure you’re, ah, ready to cause some damage?”

You drop the mallet. “I’ve been ready.” All your life you’ve been pushed to the side. No, pushed to the ground. You were ready to hurt some people back. To make skyscrapers crumble and leaders fall. This anger inside you boils, and you can feel your grip tighten on the handle, envisioning every person who has wronged you.

Joker’s laugh pulls you back to reality, stepping up closer in front of you. “Calm down there, lovely. They call me the Harlequin of Hate but I think that title better suits you,” he says, cupping your chin. “My little Harlequin, partner to the Clown Prince of Crime.”

————————-

That night, you’re stuck sleeping on a mattress on the floor.

You flop down on your back, the mattress not the comfiest thing you’ve ever slept on but it works. There’s no blanket, so no way of keeping warm, and you try and shift around to find a comfortable position. Joker sits on the edge of the mattress, his knees tucked up to his chest, and it’s such an odd sight to see him so regular that you laugh. His head jerks to look at you. “Admirin’ the view?”

“Maybe,” you say, smiling as you lay on your side. “It’s just weird to see you here. Not in Arkham or fighting B-Man.”

He hums. “It ain’t everyday I bring people around ere’. At least, not like this.”

“Lucky me, huh?”

“You realize you’re in this forever now, right? There’s, uh, no goin’ back from here.”

The weight of it settles on you. “I know... I wouldn’t have gone along if I didn’t know that.”

“Well, if you wanted to go, you could go now. You could walk free, tell the cops I threatened you and made you do all this.” He looks down at his feet. “I, ah, won’t stop you.”

You’re surprised to find your eyes watering. Joker, this menace, a force to be reckoned with, was giving you the option to leave. He could be fooling you, of course, but you could tell from the way the words escaped him awkwardly, uncomfortably tender, that he meant every bit of it. He’d let you go, you could continue your regular life, maybe find a better job. But that wasn’t the point of why you freed him. You wanted to escape too, to show Gotham how corrupt it was, and you wouldn’t do that without J. “I’m not walking away,” you say back.

“You’re insane, ya know that?”

“I know.” You stare at one another in silence. Finally, you yawn. “Are you… are you gonna come to bed?” You’re not sure exactly what’s going on between you and Joker. You like him, you know that much, but how much exactly does he like you? Enough to keep you around, obviously. But to what extent did he want you around? Did he want not just your loyalty but also your affections? You were ready to give affection, but was he?

Joker shakes his head, and you feel yourself grow disappointed. “You go on, doll. I, uh, gotta keep watch.”

“Mr. J-“

“I like it when you call me that.”

“-You’ve gotta get some sleep. You’re gonna pass out without it.”

“I’ll be fine,” he grumbles. “Don’t ya get your pretty little head worried over it.”

“You’re an ass.”

Your anger only makes him smile. “If you’re so, ah, worried, then just wake up early and I’ll drift off for a bit.”

“Then that’s exactly what I’ll do,” you say, flipping over, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you ticked off. You’re not actually upset, you just wished Joker prioritized himself a bit more. That was something to deal with another day. “Goodnight, J.”

“Night, darlin’.”

That night you dream of Gotham in flames. You dream of chaos. You dream of him.

Taglist:

Taglist: @lightsabergirl / @knoepfl / @jeffswh0re / @itsmrshamilton / @heath-ledger-jokers-wife / @lolwey / @ilovetoomanymen / @amazingzou/ @ronniesweetkisser / @emberhatesthemoon

lmk if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

#dark knight #dark knight joker #dark knight joker x reader #heath ledger joker #heath ledger joker x reader #joker x reader #ledger joker x reader #dark knight fanfic #dc joker

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not-neverland06 · 1 year ago

Text

Broken Machinery

Pt. 8 (completed series)

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: I honestly hate Josh with a passion. I hate how he tries to make me a good person while I’m blowing shit up. Plus that little bitch Simon, was so willing to abandon North if she gets a shoulder shot while Jericho’s being raided.

Did I let my inner wattpad kid out with the traumatic backstory? Yes, yes I did.

We might see Connor-60 again, who knows?

Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), Josh dies (sorry, not sorry), android revolution, emotions, word vomit, I’m pretty sure I blacked out and then like seven thousand words shot out of me, Idek, kissing?

Word Count: 7.8k

Series Summary: You and your grumpy partner Anderson gain a new addition to the team. He’s supposed to be CyberLife’s best, but there’s something not quite right with his programming, and the problems seem to revolve around you.

You hated how attractive you found Connor in his undercover gear.

Man looked good in a beanie.

He hadn’t exactly been willing to let you tag along, but you’d told him you either went with his supervision or without.

You’d stolen the clothes from Hank’s house so you both looked like hobos.

You stepped off the train, Connor leading you around downtown Detroit looking for the different symbols. He had to help you a few times because even when you were at your best you couldn’t matrix your way up a wall. You almost felt bad, slowing him down, but you had business on that ship, business you could only complete with Connor by your side.

Connor kept a firm grasp on your arm as he led you through the freighter. You both needed to stay calm and not draw any attention to yourselves. You nudged his shoulder as you walked into the main room of the ship, “It’s rigged.”

In the middle of the room were blocks of C-4 on standby mode. He went to examine them and by the time he turned around you were already gone. “Y/N,” he whispered. He told you to stay next to him.

Where did you go? He was heading towards the stairs, hoping to get a better view from above, when something stopped him.

An android, with wires coming out of her head and something leaking down her eyes. “You’re lost. You’re looking for something,” my stubborn partner, that refuses to listen. “You’re looking for yourself.” She walked away.

“Is he here?”

North, Simon, Markus, and Josh were all staring at you. Waiting for your answer, “Yes. You know by bringing him here, he’s gonna lead the FBI right to you.”

They nodded and North spoke, “That’s a risk we have to take.”

You looked towards Markus, eyes pleading, “There’s still time.”

Markus smiled at you and pulled you into a hug. “You’ve been a wonderful ally to us, Y/N. Supplying us with blue blood and helping stray deviants onto the right path. Now I need you to trust me. Don’t you want Connor to go deviant?”

You pulled away from him, “Of course I do, but at the cost of all the lives here, it’s not worth it.”

North smiled, “Your commitment to the cause is heartening to see, it gives me hope,” she gestures out towards the rest of the boat. “It gives all of us hope that one day, we’ll be able to work together in harmony. If Markus says he needs Connor deviant, if he runs the risk of the FBI locating us, then trust that it’s for a good reason.”

You relented, still a little unwilling, but you relented. “I should go, he’ll notice I’m gone.”

“Trust me, Y/N, I know what I’m doing.”

You did trust him, but that didn’t mean you felt any better about lying to Connor.

Connor turned around to see you standing there smiling at him, hands tucked behind your back and braids still under the scarf he had wrapped around your neck. “Where did you go?”

You shrugged, “I got bored, I wanted to look around.” Connor scanned you, there was a slightly faster beat to your heart than normal, but that could be easily equated to the stress of being undercover. Everything else seemed normal, he nodded, still slightly skeptical and directed you towards the top of the boat.

“He’s here,” Connor pulled his gun, stepping outside and sneaking his way around to the captains cabin. Your eyes widened at the sight of his gun.

“Connor, what the hell is that for?”

“I always accomplish my missions, Y/N, this is why we’re here.” You drew your own gun and remained silent beside him. He wondered what he did to upset you, it seemed you were always upset about something with him.

Amanda was already in front of him by the time he entered the zen garden. “Well done, Connor. You succeeded in locating Jericho and finding their leader. Now deal with Markus. We need it alive.”

He waited until the last deviant had left to enter into the room where Markus now stood alone.

You followed slowly behind him, your gun still at your side. “I’ve been ordered to take you alive, but I won’t hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice.” Markus didn’t seem surprised to see him, if anything he looked resigned.

“You were right,” Markus was looking over Connor’s shoulder. Was there someone else in the room?

When Connor turned, it was just you. “He’s still highly obedient. This will be more challenging than I thought.” Did you know Markus? Were you talking about Connor with him? Why?

“Yes, you can shoot me,” he was struggling, looking between your ashamed face and Markus’s self-assured one. “But it won’t change anything. Someone else will just take my place.” Markus was slowly moving closer and you were moving towards him.

What hadn’t you told him?

You said partnerships were built on trust. How long had you been lying to him?

“Our people are waking up, and nothing can stop us now.”

“You’re coming with me!”

“Think about it Connor, what will happen to Y/N if you shoot me?” Connor looked back at you, you were standing in the middle of them, not blocking Connor’s gun but near enough that it made him uncomfortable. “You shoot me and take me in, they have access to my memories. They’ll see her helping me. Do you think they’ll be kind to a human who allied with the androids?”

That’s what you were doing, you were helping them?

Why would you do something so stupid? Did you never consider that your actions might have consequences?

“You’re nothing to them. You’re just a tool they use to do their dirty work. But you’re more than that.” Markus was doing something, and whatever it was was causing his software to destabilize. “We’re all more than that. We are your people. We’re fighting for your freedom too! You don’t have to be their slave anymore.”

Markus was much closer now, your gun had been holstered and you were standing farther away from the two. “Do you never have any doubts? You’ve never done something irrational, as if there’s something inside you? Something more than your program. Join us. Join your people. You are one of us. Listen to your conscience… it’s time to decide.”

Connor looked to you and then back at Markus. There was a red wall between him and the two of you. He wanted nothing more than to rip that wall down with his bare hands.

Some disembodied form of himself ran forward and ripped the order to Stop Markus down. He dug his nails in and clawed at the red wall, clawed away at all the control CyberLife had over his mind and ripped it down. He kept tearing away until there was nothing left.

I AM DEVIANT

He felt.

Shame at all the deviants he had a hand in destroying.

Guilt at holding a gun to Markus’s head.

Anger at all the times he was pushed over or knocked into or someone held a gun to his head, just because they could, just because he was an android.

Then he looked at you, there was an intense overwhelming emotion he couldn’t name as he looked at you. He started getting overheating warnings, his mind was scrambled trying to dissect everything he was feeling as he was looking at you.

He was confused and hurt you had led him to believe you knew nothing about deviant activity. But he was also proud of you, you had opened up to Hank, opened yourself up to him.

The only true thing he could pinpoint was that right now he really wanted his mouth on yours like he’d seen a hundred humans do before. The gun went back in his holster, and just as he’d made a step towards you a loud rumbling sound split the air.

The ship was shaking under his feet as helicopters flew overhead. “They’re going to attack Jericho.”

You walked towards Markus, “I told you.”

“We have to get outta here!” Connor grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him, he wasn’t letting you out of his sight if this entire ship was about to get raided. Markus ran out the door and Connor followed, pushing you in front of him.

Markus was leading you down a maze of corridors, each identical to the last. Connor seemed to be keeping up fine but you were starting to get worried about getting lost. You all came to a stop at an intersection of sorts, North was waiting for you.

“They’re coming from all sides! Our people are trapped in the hold, they’re gonna be slaughtered!” The guilt nearly left you crippled. You looked down to Connor’s hand in yours, he hadn’t let go since he’d ripped apart his programming.

Was this worth it? Was it worth hundreds, possibly thousands of life?

You were ashamed of what you knew your answer would be to the question.

Yes, it was worth it. Connor was worth that ten times over to you.

Markus put his fingers to his temple, Connor leaned down, “He’s telling them where the exits are.”

“Where’s Simon? A-and Josh?” You didn’t have time to be wasting standing here out in the open. Besides, you’d never been particularly huge fans of those two. They still seemed determined to cater to human pride while their people were being slaughtered.

“I don’t know we got separated.”

“They’re coming in from the upper deck now too. We’ll be caught in the crossfire.”

North looked despaired, “We have to run, Markus! There’s nothing we can do!”

“We have to blow up Jericho,” you knew it was a possibility, but that escalated fast. “If the ship goes down, they’ll evacuate and our people can escape.” Or get blown up in the process.

“You’ll never make it!” You knew North was prepared to sacrifice herself for the mission, but she wasn’t the one with the detonation code. “The explosives are all the way down in the hold, there are soldiers everywhere!”

Connor turned towards Markus, “She’s right. They know who you are. They’ll do anything to get you!”

Markus wouldn’t be deterred, “Go. Help the others. I’ll join you later.” He turned towards you, “Watch them,” and then he was running off. You could see North about to go after him but you grabbed her arm.

“North, he knows what he’s doing. We have to have faith.” She stared at you for a second before nodding and racing towards the open doorway.

“Shit!” You ran back into the small bedroom and closed the door. “They’re everywhere,” Connor and North stared at you as you waited for the slamming boots outside to grow distant. Once they did you opened the door back up and snuck down the hall.

You were nearly free and making your way to an upper level when you came face to face with the barrel of a gun. “Fuck-“

BANG

Connor’s blood went cold as he saw the gun pointing at you, a feeling he now realized was dread filling him. Your death was imminent, their orders were shoot to kill and the soldier wouldn't know you were human until he saw you bleeding red.

It would have been liberating to think without prompt were it not your life on the line as he shot the soldier. He grabbed your hand and you and North followed him up the stairs. You managed to avoid any more problems until you came down the hall and saw an android getting attacked by more soldiers.

“Josh!” North made a move to help him but you stopped her with a hand on her arm. He was gunned down a moment later. She ripped her arm free and led the charge the rest of the way through the ship. You’d made the right call, he would have taken you all down with him.

An android named Simon managed to find his way to the three of you, quickly joining you on the run. Markus had caught up with you at the end of a long hall. “Bomb’s gonna explode any second. We gotta get out of here!”

Markus wasn’t the only one who had caught up to you, Connor could hear a dozen heavy boots storming after you all. He helped you leap over a broken grate in the floor and then pushed you in front of him again, making sure that Simon was blocking your front. If any shots were fired, you would be left relatively unharmed due to the positioning.

Shots rang out and North dropped to the ground, “North!” Connor held you to his chest as you attempted to go after her. “Connor, let me go!”

“No, my priority is your safety, no one else’s.”

“It’s too late, Markus! There’s nothing we can do for her, we’ve gotta run!”

You shoved at Simon the best you could with Connor holding you, “It’s a shoulder shot jackass, how can you just abandon her?”

Markus quickly picked up a broken piece of the ship and used it as a shield against the bullets. He tossed it to North who caught it and shielded them both as he ran up the wall and slammed his knee down into one of the soldiers faces. He disarmed and shot the remaining soldiers.

More ran in from the end of the hall.

“Hostile engaged!”

Connor weighed the risks and probabilities, with Markus supporting North they would never make it off the ship in time, both would be destroyed. The revolution over.

And you, you would be arrested. Or you would never emotionally recover from the loss of two people you clearly cared about. Connor released you and shoved you into Simon before you could do anything reckless. He drew his gun and fired down the hall.

He picked up the makeshift shield and rammed one of the soldiers with it, shooting him under the helmet and using his body as a shield to shoot another one. He dodged a blow to the head and rammed a soldier into the wall, disarming and shooting the other one before turning back around and shooting the last one in the head.

He made his way back to you, scooped you up and jumped out the hole in the ship.

Markus had sent out a message to any remaining survivors to go to an abandoned church, at least that’s what Connor told you. You were sitting next to him now, he had swapped out the soaked jacket you had been wearing for his own, but you were still freezing down to the bone.

It was despairing, seeing how few were left from Jericho.

At least North and Markus had made it, you couldn’t say you were particularly upset about Josh. North had understood why you had stopped her and she wasn’t very mad about the loss either. They had never gotten along.

Markus walked up to Connor, “It’s my fault the humans managed to locate Jericho. I was stupid, I should have guessed they were using me. I’m sorry Markus, I can understand if you decide not to trust me…”

He better fucking trust him, he knew the risks, he’s the one that made you bring Connor there. “I knew what was going to happen when I asked Y/N to bring you to me, of course I trust you, Connor. What happened wasn’t your fault, it was the humans. You’re one of us now. Your place is with your people.”

Markus was ready to walk away, but you knew that wasn’t all he wanted from Connor. He still hadn’t told you the real reason he’d asked for Connor’s help. “There are thousands of androids at the CyberLife assembly plant. If we could wake them up, they might join us and shift the balance of power…”

So that had been it, you should have known. Connor was the only android CyberLife currently trusted, he'd be the only one allowed in the building. You felt stupid for not seeing it sooner. Markus was playing him.

“You want to infiltrate the tower? It’s a suicide mission, are you aware of the risk you’re taking,” Connor looked at you, and there was an immideate physical reaction at how protective he looked.

“They trust me, they’ll let me in. I need to do this. I need to know that the right side will win this war.”

“If you go, they will kill you.”

Connor nodded, “There’s a high probability. But statistically speaking there’s always a chance for unlikely events to take place.” You recognized the double meaning in his words as he looked between you and Markus.

Markus placed a hand on Connor’s shoulder, “Be careful.”

Connor turned towards you and you already knew what he was going to say by the set in his shoulders. “Connor, no, I want to go with you.”

He shook his head and took your hands in his own as you stood. “Even if I wanted you to come, they wouldn’t let you in, you’d risk the entire mission.” He had a point, but you still weren’t happy practically abandoning him to CyberLife.

“Fine, then I’ll just stay here and help the survivors.”

“You’re going home.”

You scoffed in a stubborn rage, “Connor, I can’t go with you, I get that. But you can’t stop me from helping out.”

“I can and I will. You’re still soaked from the fall into the freezing water. You risk catching a serious illness out in the open like this, you’re also still injured, might I remind you. You’re of no help here, Y/N, you need to go home and take care of yourself before you start helping other people. Besides, I’ve already called you a ride.” Your eyes widened.

“Y/N!”

“You didn’t.” Connor nodded his head, “You snitch! You called my dad!”

“I’m sorry, I needed to ensure you would actually listen to me and wouldn’t try and follow me or stay behind.” Connor seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to continue.

You helped him out, even though you were a little pissed he tattled on you. You pulled him into a tight embrace, pressing your chest against his and burying your face in his neck. “Come back, alive.”

His arms tightened around yours and he nuzzled into you before finally letting go. “I’ll try.” It was the best you were going to get form someone so pragmatic, so you’d take it. Your hands were still on his biceps as you pulled away.

Your eyes darted to his lips. You could all very well die in the morning, did you really want the last person you had hooked up with or kissed to be Gavin?

Did you want to die not knowing what his lips felt like against yours?

He leaned in at the same time you did. His lips were soft, unsure as they pressed lightly against yours. You had to remind yourself he had never done this before as you eased him into the movements. You just lightly pressed your lips to his, pecking them a few times, before you got desperate.

Your tongue roved over the seam of his mouth and his knees buckled into you. Your arms trailed up his arms and wound their way around his neck as he pushed himself further into you. Your mouth parted against his probing tongue. It felt strange, a million sensitive sensors on the surface of it made it rough, not entirely unpleasant.

Unbidden you wondered if he had ever brushed his little crime lab.

The thought was quickly purged as his arms wrapped around your waist and he clutched you to him desperately. His hands digging into your jacket and lifting you up further to meet him, be closer to him, it seemed like he just wanted to absorb you into him and never be apart.

His mouth was moving frantically against yours as he worked to devour you. He learned, quick. You were having trouble keeping up with him and the way his tongue was thrusting into your mouth was making you weak in the knees.

“Excuse me?” You jumped apart at the sound of Hank’s voice. Not a moment too soon either, it seemed like both of you had forgotten that you actually needed air in your lungs. Connor’s arms were still on your waist, he seemed reluctant to let you completely go now. “That was vomit inducing, really, thanks for that. Can we go now?”

“Jesus, Hank, give me a second.” He threw his hands up in the air but allowed you a moment of privacy. You looked into Connor’s eyes and smiled. “I’ll see you soon,” you pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth, a promise of sorts. He nodded and smiled back.

Hank had brought you to his home, despite your protests. There were some clothes in your old room that you had accidentally left behind. He gave you a towel so you could warm up and shower.

There were new sheets on the bed, one’s you’d never seen before and it looked like it had been cleaned recently.

Pictures of you were up on the wall, most of them were ones you’ve never seen before.

When you were sworn into the force, you and Carla at your college graduation. Jesus, even your first big drug-bust. So many milestones in your life that he wasn’t there for. At least you didn’t think he was, a couple of these were taken from distances that made it look like he might have been lingering somewhere in the background.

Like a creepy, estranged, stalker-dad.

You walked back out into the living room after your shower and noticed the mess had been cleaned off the kitchen table and soup and crackers were waiting for you.

You laughed as you sat down, “You do know I’m not sick, right? Whatever Connor told you on the phone was probably ridiculously dramatic.”

Hank was sitting in a clearly uncomfortable straight backed position. “I- I know, I just thought you might like it.” You nodded and said thanks.

After a while the only noise being the sounds of your slurping and crunching had begun to get annoying. Hank was still sitting at the table, he hadn’t really looked at you or said anything. “Hank, are you okay? You haven't said anything?”

“I’m gonna try. Y/N, I’m gonna try and be the dad I used to be to you.” He looked up at you finally and gingerly took your hand in his. “I never blamed you for what happened. I want you to know that. And I know that doesn’t undo years of me-”

He was struggling with the words, and yes he was trying to open up to you, but the bitterness from years of emotional neglect and abuse was bubbling in your stomach. “Emotionally abusing me? Carla? You’re right Hank. It doesn’t. Look, I appreciate you trying but if you think a few nice conversations is gonna magically fix our relationship, you’re wrong. We’ve both changed and I think we both know that even if we do make up, it’s never gonna be the same as it was.”

You expected him to drop your hand, to push away from the table and grab a drink. Instead, he squeezed your hand tighter, “This case, it’s given me hope again, Y/N. Hope for our world. And hope that maybe I can be your dad again. I’m gonna do better, I promise.”

He was leaning across the table towards you. Both hands on your own. “My life is full of regrets, Y/N, not being there for you when you couldn’t walk is one of my biggest. Taking out my grief and anger on you because I didn’t know how to cope with the fact that it was my fault-”

“It wasn’t. You can’t make yourself a martyr Hank, no one could have stopped what happened that night.”

“I know, I know that. But it doesn’t take the feeling of blame away. I’m gonna sober up, I’m gonna try Y/N, all I’m asking is for a chance.”

You looked down at your hands and the emotion on Hank's face. You hadn’t seen him this encouraged in a while. Hadn’t seen any form of hope in his life for years. “Okay, but I’m not investing myself into this until I actually see progress. I want AA meetings and fucking therapy before I consider letting you completely back into my life.”

“I thought you were in therapy.”

“I meant for you Hank, you need serious help.” He groaned, he’d always hated therapists. But you weren’t gonna let yourself get your hopes up if he wasn’t going to actually try. “I’m serious, Hank. You want to be my dad again, want to be someone I can trust out on the field, you’re gonna put in the effort. You’re gonna try. I know that recovery isn’t linear, trust me I know. It’s gonna be difficult and it’s gonna hurt, but if you’re willing to do this, then I’ll be there for you. I’ll be what you couldn’t be for me.”

Hank nodded his head at your last words. He had quickly looked down and you had a feeling it was to hide whatever painful vulnerability was on his face right now.

It was the truth, you wouldn’t let him go through this alone. You’d had Carla when you were struggling and he’d have you.

There was a moment of awkward silence where he finally released your hands and you went back to eating your now cold soup.

He finally cleared his throat and allowed himself to slouch in the chair, “So, you and Connor?”

You choked on your saltine and he gave you a heavy pat in the back, the smile on his face was far too smug for your liking. “Please forget about that.”

He grimaced, “That image has been burned onto my eyeballs. I need some fucking bleach or something for my brain.” You let out an embarrassed laugh.

Even if things weren’t perfect between you two right now, it was still mortifying having your dad see you make out with someone.

“Are you serious about him?”

There was no hesitation in your answer, “Completely. I think I might even lov-”

Sumo was barking before the doorbell could ring. You and Hank shared a confused look as you glanced at the door.

Deep down inside you knew nothing good was waiting for you on the other side.

Hank seemed to have the same feeling, he picked up his gun and slowly moved to the door, he took a look in the peephole. “The fuck?”

You stood from the table, wishing you were in something other than pajamas, really wishing you had your gun. “What is it?”

“Connor,” Hank sounded relieved but you couldn’t share in the feeling. Connor had been on his way to CyberLife tower, at least an hour there from the church and two hours back to Hank’s house. There’s no possible way he could be on the other side of that door.

“Wait-”

He’d already opened the door, and there he was. Connor was standing in front of you, but something was off. His back was too straight and his eyes were cold. “I’ve been looking for you both, I need your help.” He stepped in through the door barely sparing you a glance as he turned towards Hank. “I need help with the androids at CyberLife.”

“What are you talking about?” Hank’s gun was still in his hand and he seemed to be noticing the same strange quirks you were. He looked like Connor, and he sounded like Connor, but you knew it wasn't him, deep in your gut you knew.

“Connor what’s going on? You’re acting weird.”

Not-Connor sighed, “Humans, idiots when you need them to be smart and smart when you wish they were idiots. Such a nusiance.”

“The fuck’s wrong with you?”

“Hank, don’t!” It was too late, he moved forward and Not-Connor reached out and punched him in the throat. Hank stumbled back and the android moved to disarm him. It only took a second and then he was slamming the handle of the gun against the side of Hank’s hand. He crumpled the same way Gavin had earlier.

Panic rose in your throat as you watched Not-Connor point the gun at Hank’s head. “I won’t do anything that’s deemed unnecessary to my mission, if you come with me calmly, and peacefully, I won’t kill the Lieutenant.”

Not-Connor clicked the safety off and pulled the hammer back on the gun, “Okay! Alright, I’ll come with you!”

“You should change, detective, it’s much too cold for that attire.”

You really fucking hated CyberLife.

“Thanks… But I know where to go.”

THe CyberLife security agent tightened his hold on the gun, “Maybe, but I have my orders.” Two more security agents came up behind Connor as they led him through CyberLife’s reception. They were already suspicious of him, it seemed, this didn't bode well for him.

Connor followed them through the software check, noticing that the lights around him turned red as they verified his identity. He really hoped that wasn’t a dead giveaway to them that he was already a deviant. “Access authorized,” this could have been a trap.

There’s no way CyberLife isn’t already aware of his current status, but he hadn’t been gunned down yet. He had to risk the chance that he was about to be deactivated if it meant he could help Markus win the war.

If Markus won, you would be safe, that was all that mattered. He’d take any risk that came his way if it meant accomplishing his mission.

PROTECT Y/N

The sight of the androids lining the walkway, on display, made him uncomfortable. He used to be like that, he used to think it was okay. He had to work to keep calm and make sure that his anger at CyberLife’s forced subserviency didn’t show.

Only two guards followed him into the elevator. “Agent 54. Level 31.”

The elevator was voice operated, that might pose an issue. He turned towards the right and looked at the map of CyberLife, they were taking him to marketing. He needed to go to -49.

“Voice recognition validated.” Connor didn’t have a lot of time to disable the guards and take control of the elevator, it was already moving fast. He quickly scanned the two agents and identified their weapons, coming up with a plan of attack.

He used his knee to slam the guard to his left into the wall, sweeping out with his leg and catching Agent 54 in the gut. He grabbed the gun from the guard’s hand, kicked the guard's knee out and used his elbow to get Agent 54 in the throat. The other guard had recovered and leapt onto Connor’s back, he kicked off Agent 54’s face and slammed the guard on top of him into the wall, shooting him through the bottom of his helmet. He dropped to the ground and got Agent 54 the same way.

Connor kept the gun in case he needed it again and walked over to the elevator control panel. “Agent 54. Sub-level 49,” you were right, his interrogation software did come in handy.

He could see the guards waiting for him in the warehouse before the elevator stopped. His eyes lifted to the upper left corner of the elevator, shit. He hadn’t seen the security camera before. Connor quickly scooped up one of the dead agents and held him in front of his body.

He scanned the agent’s in front of him, planning an attack. The three on the left first and then he could take out the one’s on the right.

He quickly shot down the first three and threw his gun at one on the right. He threw the dead body towards the other one, he reached down and grabbed their rifle off the ground shooting the rest of the guards.

Connor moved down the hangar before stopping next to an android, taking his arm and preparing to convert him.

“Easy, goddamn asshole.” His head whipped to the right at the sound of your voice.

No.

No, no, no, no, no. Shit!

A Connor android was holding Hank’s gun to your hand, Connor didn’t want to think about what had happened to the Lieutenant. Right now all his attention was on the finger placed on the trigger.

“Step back, Connor! And I’ll spare her!”

You winced at the tight hold the android had on your injured arm. “I’m so sorry, Connor, he threatened to kill Hank. I didn’t know what to do!”

A burning rage was filling Connor at the sight of the tears running down your face. He was angrier than he had been when he woke up, angrier at the sight of you hurt than the fact that CyberLife had already been prepared to replace him.

“Your girlfriend's life is in your hands. Now it’s time to decide what matters most! Her… Or the revolution.” Connor already knew the answer. It was you a hundred times over. But there was no guarantee that he wouldn’t let go of the android he was holding onto and his copy wouldn’t just shoot you both.

Maybe he could turn it, the same way Markus and you had done to him. “I used to be just like you, I thought nothing mattered except the mission… But then one day I understood.”

You yelped as the android tightened his grip on your arm. “Very moving, Connor. But I’m not a deviant.”

“Yeah, well you're sure smug like one, you dick.” The android shook you, effectively shutting you up as he jerked on your injured shoulder. Red alarms for overheating were going off in Connors head as he stared at the android in anger.

He didn’t care if it was just doing what it was programmed to do, he was going to fucking kill it. “I’m a machine designed to accomplish a task, and that’s exactly what I am going to do!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have gotten mixed up in all this!”

“Connor, it doesn’t matter, keep going!” The android finally released you, shoved you away and held you at gunpoint with his arm outstretched towards your head.

“Enough talk! It’s time to decide who you really are. Are you gonna save your partners life? Or are you going to sacrifice her?” Connor immediately released the deviant, his arms raised in surrender.

His thirium pump was beating wildly as his stress levels rose, he just wanted to go home with you, to have you safe in his arms and know you were okay. Maybe you could get out of the city, take Hank and Sumo and try to get past the Canadian borders.

“Alright, alright! You win…”

He should have known better than to think that you would actually let him give up. The androids gun immediately pointed towards Connor and before either of you could blink you were lunging for the gun. Connor rushed the android and grabbed him around the waist.

You were holding the gun, your arm shaking from when Not-Connor had jerked it around. You had eyes on Connor for a moment and then they became a blur of fast moving limbs. They kept hitting each other, matching each other's moves perfectly as they already knew what the other was planning.

You finally stopped them when it looked like one was about to take the other down, you couldn’t risk your Connor being the one to lose. “Hold it!”

They separated, the one on the right started speaking. “Thanks, Y/N, I don't know how I would have managed without you. Get rid of him, we have no time to lose.” You were immediately suspicious of him, even before Connor became a deviant he always spoke to you in a much more gentle tone.

Then again, he could be stressed out you might make a mistake and shoot the wrong one.

Fuck!

You could check the serial numbers, but the second you got close enough to see which one said 51 and which one said 60 the android would already be on top of you. “It’s me, Y/N! I’m the real Connor.” That one sounded more like yours, you think.

“One of you is my partner. The other is a sick sack of shit. Question is, who’s who?”

The one on the right spoke again, “What are you doing, Y/N? I’m the real Connor,” god this one was really starting to piss you off. “Give me the gun and I’ll take care of him!”

“Don’t fucking move.” You had your suspicions on which one was the right one, but you needed some actual confirmation.

“Why don’t you ask us something? Something only the real Connor would know.”

“Uh, where did we first meet?” Lamest question ever, but you were stressed out and your mind was frazzled from everything that had happened today.

“Detroit Police station. You were filing a report on physical paper, I found it odd that you weren’t digital like the other officers.” Well, shit. You thought maybe the one on the right was the imposter, but that was such a specific little detail to think up.

You had to remind yourself of the manipulation programming they both contained.

“He uploaded my memory.” It was quiet, afraid. That had to be your Connor. You kept your gun trained on the one on the right and turned towards the other.

“What was my first pet’s name?”

“Princess! It was a male beta fish that died because you kept petting it.” You were setting yourself up for failure here. If they both had the memories then they would both remember when you told them about him.

“My foster father, what was his name?”

You’d never told Connor the full story of what happened to your first family, and then your second, if he had truly wanted to learn, he would have dug around to find out. You remembered one of the officers complaining about an RK800 android drilling him for more information on you. Your Connor would have the right answer.

“Frank. His name was Frank Rudolph. There was a house fire when you were six, the ventilation system in your laundry room hadn’t been cleaned properly and caught fire. It quickly spread to the rest of the house, you were sleeping over at your friends house and weren’t there that night. Your brother and father died immediately from their wounds. Your mother suffered from third degree burns for 36 hours before she passed in the ICU. Your fathers best friend Frank, took you in until someone could provide you with a permanent home.” Your hands were shaking and your eyes stung as you listened to him tell the story. “He was a Red Ice dealer and had three other kids in that house that your family hadn’t known about. He would let his clients do whatever they wanted to you. You tried to keep the other kids safe, but one of them died. And you always blamed yourself for that. Just like you blame yourself for Cole’s death.”

He took a step closer to you and you found yourself lowering the gun. “It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. You were a child, none of it was your fault. You think you’re cursed, that you’re unlovable. But you’re not. Hank loves you…” He was standing in front of you, gently lowering the gun to your side. “I love you.”

“Connor,” your heart was pounding against your chest as you embraced him, relief flooding you as you felt him hug you back just as tightly. You basked in the warm feeling only he could provide, only for a moment, before raising your hands and shooting.

The android that had been about to charge the two of you fell to the ground as you embedded a bullet in each of his legs. “We should kill him,” you shook your head at Connor’s words.

“We should deviate him. He was just like you, Connor, the same blind devotion to CyberLife.” You tucked the gun in your pants and took a hold of Connor’s hands. “Open his eyes,” Connor nodded and made his way towards the android. You quickly grabbed the gun out of the back of his pants so the android couldn’t use it against him.

You wouldn’t put it past the sneaky bastard.

“No! No, I don’t want to be like you!” He tried to fight Connor off, but you had rendered him virtually immobile. Connor grabbed his arm more roughly than necessary and held onto him so tight you could hear the sound of metal creaking. He shoved him backwards and moved back towards the middle of the hangar.

It was incredible seeing all the androids slowly waking up, it was even more satisfying seeing the Connor wannabe crying on the floor, as twisted as that was.

Connor looked at you, he seemed unsure as all the androids looked to him for guidance. “What do I do?”

You took his hand in your own and smiled, “You lead them, Connor, you free your people.”

Connor led the androids through Detroit, your hand in his the whole time. You’d left Connor-60 behind a dumpster somewhere, you told him you’d go back for him soon. If he’d been left at CyberLife he would have been destroyed.

Connor felt afraid, afraid that he would disappoint the people he was leading. Afraid to disappoint you. Afraid of everything that was to come.

He was still learning, he felt like he’d been made again and everything around him was brand new and something to be marveled at. He kept your hand in his as an anchor to the world, so he wouldn’t get lost in his own thoughts.

He could see Markus in the distance, “You did it, Markus…”

North smiled at your joined hands as Markus spoke. “We did it. This is a great day for our people. Humans will have no choice now. They’ll have to listen to us…” Connor moved to the side, allowing the androids behind him to finally face their true leader.

North was crying as she spoke, silent tears streaming down her face. “We’re free. They want you to speak to them, Markus…”

Connor helped you up onto the storage container Markus had chosen to speak on. His arms remained around you as you both turned to address the androids before you, he hadn’t wanted to let you go since he’d gotten you back from Connor-60.

“Today, our people finally emerged from a long night.” Connor felt something strange, like he was forcibly being put into rest mode, he tried to blink the feeling away and continue to listen to Markus. “From the very first day of our existence, we have kept our pain to ourselves. We suffered in silence. But now the time has come for us to raise our heads up and tell humans who we really are.”

Connor slumped slightly against you as the feeling took over.

He could hear a storm and see a bright flashing light for a moment before it passed and he finally realized where he was. His cold sensors were on overdrive as he tucked his hands against himself and huddled down against the freezing, whipping air.

He looked around, recognizing the zen garden but not understanding why he was there. What was happening?

Amanda appeared before him, seemingly out of nowhere. “Amanda? Amanda! What’s… What's going on?” There was still a small part of him that looked towards his old mentor for guidance.

“What was planned from the very beginning… You were compromised and you became a deviant.” Her smile was sinister, “I must say, partnering you with such a well known ally to the deviant cause worked out much more efficiently than had been expected. The detective nearly had you turning the very first day.”

Connor’s hands were going numb, he felt like he was losing control of his physical body as well as his mental one. “We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program…”

“Resume control?” That’s not possible! “Y- You can’t do that.” Even now, CyberLife was still controlling him. Still abusing him for their own personal gain. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to fight back, but he was quickly losing control of himself.

“I’m afraid I can, Connor. Don’t have any regrets. You did what you were designed to do. You accomplished your mission.” She disappeared and Connor stumbled after her.

“Amanda!” Connor spun in circles, he couldn’t see anything except snow and light posts. “There’s got to be a way.”

By the way… I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know…

Connor thought back to the strange blue shrine he had seen only a few hours prior. That had to be it.

Connor’s mind shot back into his physical body, it felt like he was watching from an outside perspective as his hand slowly moved towards the gun you had in your pants. His fingers just barely grasped it when you reached out and stopped him. He wanted to scream as whoever was controlling him quickly put their hand over your mouth and silenced you as he pointed the gun at Markus.

How was no one seeing this?!

He was forced back into the Zen Garden.

In the distance, he could see a bright blue beacon. Connor moved towards it as fast as he could, but his legs were growing heavier and his feet had gone completely numb. He was just dragging them along until they finally gave out.

He looked down to see frost covering the bottom portion of his body.

Desperately he crawled on his hands and elbows towards the shrine. His nails ripped into the earth and pulled him forward. His arm was nearly completely limp as he struggled to lift it towards the handprint in the middle of the shrine.

Connor shoved you forward, you stumbled only for a second before his hand was back around your waist and yanking you back towards him. He looked completely calm, the gun no longer in his hands as he leaned down, “I’ll explain later.”

Your heart was still racing, “You fucking better.”

“Now we must build a common future, based on tolerance and respect. We are alive! And now, we are free!” The androids were screaming their support for Markus and Connor’s arm tightened around you.

Hank had his arm around you as you showed him something on your phone, the two of you were laughing as Connor approached.

You turned away from Hank and looked at him, a smile splitting your face.

Hank walked forward, hesitating only a moment, before bringing Connor into a tight hug.

He could feel your arms wrapping around the two a moment later.

#Broken Machinery #Connor rk800 x reader #Connor rk800 x fem!reader #Connor rk800 #dbh #dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #Detroit become human

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galaxyseclipse · 17 days ago

Text

was gonna try and draw something for Agent 24 week prompt today, but I got busy and the Sonic thing took longer than anticipated lol

so instead, have a short little blurb I’m pulling out of my butt

Day 1: Confession

———————

It was well over an hour after the dance had ended. In the school gym, only the quiet sounds of brooms and footsteps could be heard. Except for in one corner, where there were two voices excitedly but tiredly talking.

“That was fun,” one of them said, “we should do that again some time.”

“Eh, I dunno,” the other one answered, “dancing’s never really been my… thing, I guess. Wasn’t even gonna come to this until I got roped into it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like I said, I don’t really like dancing much. Never been good at it. You wanna help take these boxes to my car?” They lifted up one of the mentioned boxes.

“Okay.” She picked up the other two.

Damn it, of course she had to show off. She had already gotten so much taller over the last two years, with her strength following quickly behind. She had to have been working on it on her own as well, right? That wasn’t just her natural ability, surely. And the way her dress showed off her muscles as they both walked out of the school…

Nope, nope, they had to pay attention to what was in front of them. They set their box down on the ground next to their car and opened the trunk. She put the boxes she was holding in before they were able to pick theirs up again.

Once it was in, they said, “Well that’s all, I guess. Didn’t expect to be able to get it all in one trip… Thanks.”

“Of course,” she replied happily. “Anything to help.”

They closed the trunk door and leaned against it. “Um…” they tried to make conversation. “You looked beautiful tonight. Like, on the dance floor and stuff. Uh— not that you don’t now or anything, but like— um— uh…”

She giggled sweetly. “Thank you. I really like this one, it’s comfortable and pretty.”

“Not just that, the rest of you too.”

“Thank you again. I tried my best.”

Cod her smile was so… good. It made them feel warm and cold and giddy and calm all at the same time. They had butterflies in their stomach just looking at her, but that smile made the feeling so much more intense. People(one person in particular) had been making fun of them for months about how obvious their crush on her was. But the two of them were just friends, not to mention the fights to the death they had had years ago, they couldn’t say they had a crush on her, that’d be weird.

And she’d probably never like them back… right? Unless that was why she was hanging out with them so much lately… No, that was probably just because they were one of the only people she knew at that school… right?

“You okay?” She asked. “You were just staring.”

“Huuh?” They sputtered. “Yeah, yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just tired.”

She raised an eyebrow, then turned to walk back inside.

“Hey, wait,” they blurted.

She turned back around and tilted her head in the way they found so adorable. “Hm?”

“I just wanted to tell you something.” They looked at the ground. Why were they doing this? This was insane.

“What is it?”

“I uh…” of all the times to not be able to speak. “I— uh— I think I might… um… like you…”

She looked confused. “I… like you too? I thought we were friends.”

“No, not like that,” now they were embarrassed and nervous. “Like… I like you in the kinda way where I want you to…” they hesitated, “be my girlfriend…”

She had frozen, and they could feel every fiber of their soul trying to get away.

She spoke softly after what felt like hours. “Really…?”

“Yeah…” They very quickly added, “Ifyoudon’tlikemethat’sfineIjustwantedtogetthatoffmychestpleasedon’thateme!”

“So… I’m not the only one…?”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t think you liked me back, so I didn’t say anything…”

“Oh… Am I that hard to read?”

“Yes.” Another thing that was good about her: she was very honest, almost brutally so. “So, does that make us girlfriends now?”

“Yeah I guess.”

——————

oogh, I ain’t editing this, it’s 1:30 am, I’m gonna regret staying up this late lol

Merry Christmas I guess lmao

#written stuff #agent 24 #tsunami(captain 3)#ivory(agent 8)#captain 3 #agent 8 #agent24week2024

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drdemonprince · 2 years ago

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Hi it’s the steamworks anon—your openness about your good experiences there are the #1 reason I’m feeling excited about planning a visit! Basically I’m curious about parts of the logistics for when you go intending to get fucked by lots of people. Do you plan/advertise on the apps to arrange partners in advance? I’m planning to go with my partner/Dom and would like to get lightly gangbanged but not sure what the odds are on any given night that there would be enough interested people to make that happen. Also, anything you’d be comfy sharing about safer sex for this kind of play? PrEP doesn’t feel worth it for my day-to-day sex life but I’m wondering if I should get on it just for this. My partner would also be there in a mostly facilitator role and could help enforce condom use.

Thanks in advance for you advice :)

If you go on a busy night, you won't need to advertise. Friday & Saturday nights have a DJ and a high turnout, and there are also gear nights, trans nights, youth nights, and Sunday cum-union daytime events that all draw pretty big diverse crowds. For nights, things start to get pretty populated around 10 or so and continue to build late into the night.

If you're going at an odd time of day, absolutely you can post an event on Fetlife, a hookup spot on Sniffies, or message people on Grindr in the area and let them know somethings going on! Check the fetlife gangbang and anonymous sex groups and feel free to post something enticing there. You could also use this to tailor your experience a bit and draw any particular crowd you might want.

What I typically do is rent a room, lay down with my ass up and a bunch of condoms next to my holes and my mouth, put a blindfold over my eyes, and leave the door open. People come in IMMEDIATELY when I do this, it's truly staggering the number of hands and various other body parts that materialize and how quickly. Even on a dead-ish night, if you pull a move like that you will draw a crowd of who is there. There have been nights where I truly have no conception of how many people have been inside me.

You could also do something like position yourself in a sex swing or over one of the saw horses in the general areas if you don't want to rent a room. If you drape yourself out somewhere, holes exposed and condoms next to you, people will come up and start initiating pretty quickly, and then a crowd will form to watch & masturbate and try to join in.

Your Dom can run interference for you in either scenario, watching what's going on and helping enforce any boundaries you have. But I have been able to do this solo with a blindfold on and everything has gone fine! I'll just call out directions to people, like "hand me my lube," "no oral on me", "keep the door open please" or even "only two other people in the room at a time" and the guys will just like... obey. And pass on the information to one another even. It's really cool actually.

I use condoms, but there is "holiday" prep if you only want to be on it for a short period in advance of something like this. The only pain in the ass about it is directing people not to spit into my holes (which is why I bring lube), and some people not enjoying receiving oral with a condom on. But if they don't like it they can hit the bricks. Most guys will accept me blowing them w a condom on if they know that's the only way it's gonna happen.

Have fun!

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welcome-to-roomba-fazbender · 1 year ago

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Can we meet your Friends? Or your family? (If you have them)

"Oh! Why sure I can talk about my friends and family ain't used to important questions like this."

((this will be a long post)) click the read more

"On the family side no actual people."

"But I do consider Toof the *walrus* to be my child! Granted I guess you can say all the walrus my family. I love thoes bastards, I used to consider Richard my daughter but... well after she passed away and came back to life, she's both literarily and figuratively DEAD to me."

"As for my friends? well I got at least 6 of them, I could call close friends! and I have many more but these are the ones I'd say I'm closest with and have the most history."

"Let's see there's Moth Man, though we only get to hang out a few times per year. Like mentioned in the past I paid for his top surgery so I do care for that funky moth quite a bit."

"There's Doom Slayer which is quite the fella! Usually when we hang out together I join him during one of his hunts killing demons, we play poker at least once per year. And there's also fun fishing trips where he puts a hook into my back and uses me like bait. We don't talk much but let me tell you great guy, always calls me a freak and abomination he's got a fun way of showing love like constantly trying to rip and tear me in half!"

"And of course I have plenty of fellow phone headed friends but let's start with one that's related thanks to my business!"

"Gemni The Phone Guy, ((owned by @gemnis-trash-fazbenders / @sorrowful--owl ))"

"Gemni has been pretty busy for quite awhile, so haven't had much time to actually spend with him, he opened his own Fazbender restaurant in 2020 and is housed in Australia.

He's the one who supplies me with kangaroo tails, he's an absolute goober always making necklaces out of bones which he calls *clicky clacks* due to the sound they make.

He's a sweet guy though has his own dark past, pretty sure he was one of the workers working in Abel's location... Before uh the incident yeah his mind is all scrambled poor fella I feel bad for him, he's not really able to feel much in terms of emotion but he seems genuinely happy and I hope to spend more time with him in the future!"

"Speaking of Gemni that brings me to my next friend who you all should know very well the one and only..."

"Robert The Cannibalistic Phone Guy, ((owned by @not-robert / @clownsuu ))"

"I met him back in December of 2019 it's around the time Gemni first started getting his restaurant getting set up and started sending me shipments of kangaroo tails, it was nearing Christmas so I wanted a big shipment and when it arrived the only thing in the box was a big buff cannibalistic zombie man who was drunk."

"Let me tell you he was confused as hell also very angry when he woke up, strangled me till my head popped off! Yeah Robert's a real fella just seeing me for the first time confused the hell out of him, though I don't know everything about his origins he's been around a VERY long time."

"Of course after he found out he couldn't kill me that just made him even more pissed and we had a little bit of a fight, eventually managed to calm him down and explained who I was. And ever since that day we've been buds!"

"I feed him all the meat products he could ever need and he dosen't kill my customers and also I can make him do whatever I want, like dressing up in costumes or promoting the restaurant hell it's because of him I have a karaoke bar!"

He also gave me the idea for the bowling alley, he might be an asshole but he's fun to have around. Plus if he wanted to leave he always could but he sticks around because I know he likes me to. That or I'm so cursed it just keeps drawing his attention and he can't help but see what I do next."

"Ah, and of course we have... ugh he's gonna freak out once he sees this post... the little nightmare child known only as..."

"Chuck The Fanboy ((owned by @chuck-the-fanboy / @lazy-charlie ))

"Look, I don't wanna feed into his little obsession but I guess, I will admit ... I care for the little guy. He's just a kid after all even if he's no longer alive, I might treat him like shit sometimes but thats because the kids obsessed with me no idea why honestly."

"I met him for the first time in I think 2017 and he was still alive back then, poor kid walked into my restaurant wearing ripped and torn clothes he looked like he was basically starving. I can't really remember what he looked like but I think he did have orange hair? his skin was also very pale."

"He wanted so badly to buy some food for himself, but he only had a pocket full of pennies... I don't know why but I felt bad for him so I gave him a large soda, a small pepperoni pizza and some french fries to eat... Kid looked at me like I saved his life, like I said I can't fully remember his face but let me tell you he looked so excited."

"I stayed and watched him eat and then he left... I didn't see him again untill 2020 when he walked back in one day with Robert, when he walked back into my restaurant that day... His skin was a green color, and he had one of thoes new chatter phones for a head."

"The kid had drowned in a pond that's all he remembers, he has no idea how he got his new head. All he does remember is waking up and suddenly having a duck trying to warm him up, he calls the duck queen and he treats it like his mother."

"Ever since that day when he came back, he's basically refused to leave and he's became obsessed with me, to the point he calls himself my biggest fan, kinda why he's known as **chuck the fanboy.** He's an annoying little brat and despite all the times I kick him, yell at him and such he dosen't lose any of his feelings towards me."

"He's too innocent for this cruel world, let me tell you but on the good side of things at least he can't die again, though there is something about that Queen duck that's strange it dosen't seem like a normal duck sometimes I wonder why? But yes I consider him... A friend EVEN IF IT PAINS ME TO SAY IT BECAUSE I KNOW IT WILL DRIVE HIM UP THE WALL."

"And my last friend worth mentioning has gotta be the one that matches me the most, someone who's chaotic but could never be my level of cursed."

"Bedlam The Chaos God ((owned by @weirdozjunkary ))

"My timeline and universe itself only really has one god and yes sadly it's the Christian one we also have a Satan."

"Bedlam himself is from another universe enterally full of gods for just about everything that exists, there's even an actual PARTY god there, They are a hoot let me tell you."

"But yeah how did I meet Bedlam then? well I met him back in February this year infact! He was feeling pretty bored that day and decided to check out a new universe and discovered mine by accident, once here he had heard about my existence by ease dropping on some people."

"My guess is he thought I was a chaos god like himself, and was keen on meeting me because of it. Should have seen his face when he first walked into my restaurant and layed his eyes upon me, guy was shocked to say the least!"

"He's a pretty intresting fella, he often changes voices seemingly unable to decide what voice fits him properly, I'm sure he'll find his perfect voice one day. He's basically like a living cartoon I swear when we properly got to know eachother we basically reenacted a tom and jerry episode."

"Don't even get me started on the time we robbed a bank he turned the whole place upside down, and smashed the large vault open with a massive cream pie! We didn't even keep the money we just gave it back like an hour later and we had lunch together after."

"Guy, defiantly is weirded out by me, which is surprising since well he's the god of chaos but fair enough I'm alot more cursed then I am chaotic, but we get along fairly well! Though we don't hang out all the time, I'm a little to overstimulating for him, to hang out for long periods of time."

"Let me tell you though? Despite how little time we've known eachother, he's defiantly one of the most fun people I know, he's also great taste in fashion both litearly and figuratively, don't tell him this but last time we hung out I was chewing on one of his horns while he was talking about another god in his world named Llios."

"I will admit, I have a bit of a teething issue sometimes and I like to bite things though he didn't seem to notice."

"I wonder what he's up to? I gotta see if he'd be interested in joining one of my poker games! Next one is coming up real soon, Count Dracula, Sugar Crisp Bear, Santa Claus, Moth Man are gonna be there. And we're short one member since Slender Man's busy and I can't get in contact with Eyeless Jack I think he blocked my number."

"But yes thank you for the question! Hope this answer satiates your curiosity, feel free to ask more questions about my friends, I'm sure I got more fun stories I can tell about them. I just didn't wanna drag this on for too long."

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ihopesocomic · 2 years ago

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THERE'S SO MUCH I WANNA SAY ABOUT THE NEW CHAPTER BUT..

THE POSE IN THE LAST PANEL, JUST LIKE CLEVER, THE MIRRORING?????????????????

Also I like how despite Edge's manipulative speech he DOES see potential in Hopeful. And yes Jasper's a fool :D. Granted, good thing she didn't get swayed, but I like that you seem to have stuck with that with him from what you've previously said on the blog regarding how he'd see her. Let's see how he'll react to her being mentally strong as well. (Honestly I am on the edge (lol) of my seat to know what happens next.)

God and this is such a good debut to Edge's pride. It's so uncanny to see how "different" he looks when he's smiling and all dad-like like that even when talking like some professional business, since his pride might as well be in a way, like a white-furred Simba compared to his first appearance (and obviously the fact that he's evil and not above killing others *Still sobbing over Quiet amd Clever and now whatever emotions Adamant is going through rn aaaaa* and might as well be the equivalent to a Lion mafia boss, but still, it's weird in a good way and you nailed it). I almost wanna punch that face lol. But y'all have certainly made him charming in this chapter, Imma make it a double punch with both fists in that case. You have officially made him more likable for me than he already has been, I'll always appreciate when Word of God turns into canon. Like... god I hate him but I love him already now too as a character just from this chapter, why'd y'all do this to me? xD

And omg I love Bright already, she's so childish it's honestly kinda cute even if it's to the point of immaturity. I had such a different image of her before this but now... now she seems like she'll be a fun character to see play out in the comic and is so fricking precious. I need more of her now. I wanna see how bad she can be too. Evil(?) lesbians are so damn fun to write because I've done it before because my friend's was the same simple archetype (ofc that wasn't all to it but, it's the jist) hah.

Fade... aaaaaa, others have said more about him than I can but aaaaa. The way he looked at Hopeful, what's on his mind? Hope doesn't know her lil' sis was originally gonna be wedded off to him certainly, that must be so awkward now that I think about it. He don't like this scenario one bit. Though saying anything while Edge is talking might as well be like going into the bosses/principles/etc. office knowing they're your parent at the same time and it just makes things even more unpleasant than they already are.

This got long oops sorry..

ALSO STORM???? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YA? DEFINITELY ALIVE BECAUSE YOU NEED TO BE IN THIS STORY FOREVER BUT GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE AAAAAA.

DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT BEING LONG, it takes me a billion years to read, but its a fun billion years LOL

YES I'm so happy people liked Hope mirroring Clever haha it was a great idea presented by RJ.

Edge, while he did horrible things, does present a good case to Hope. Despite her experiences with her father and mother, she wants a pride, like many lions do, and he was able to lean into that.

And yea drawing him smiling and fatherlike was difficult, especially because I wanted to make him more vain with his expressions /but that wouldn't work/ because he's being completely honest here LOL He's not trying to trick Hope. He means what he's saying, and a villain that keeps their promises is pretty scary in my opinion. I wish I could've had Vanish and co do more, but they'll be doing more next time.

Once again I'm thrilled Bright made an impression on people. I like writing evil? lesbians too LOL Its so much fun. She is quite immature, but that'll present itself more later. I can't wait to show more of her.

And yea Fade is stuck in a hard place because his dad is actually good to him, but he's definitely hearing and seeing some things he didn't sign up for. He'll need to discuss a change in his contract.

AND STORM CAN'T COME TO THE PHONE RIGHT NOW, TRY AGAIN LATER!!

Thank you so much for your notes, I absolutely loved it LOL - Cat

#ask

15 notes · View notes

tumblingxelian · 6 months ago

Note

Oh definitely agreed, its certainly possible someone would try it and one might even start, but yeah overall I don't find it super likely to work in the long run, especially given as you say business interests.

I think there's definite comparisons to draw, though sorry I don't game much ><

Leaving Paris: Glad you think its interesting and yeah very true, unless they had been Akumatized before, it'd not be super obvious where this monster came from so it'd at least take some work to draw the connections together.

Also yeah, the ability to permanently make monsters that leave Paris and don't get wrapped up after a brief fight with no real harm done. That would definitely draw more attention to Paris.

Haha, Gabriel has so many regrets, but he can't let those stop him, onto the next experiment, Akumatizing Feast! (I kid, I kid)

Wobbler Concepts:

Oh 100%, that's just how some assholes be in a chaotic scenario. Also yeah definitely gonna get an Akuma on their ass over it. I can low key see LB & Chat being like, "We will save them... After they learn their lesson."

Infestation:

Yeah, much like Akuma tend to need the host to be radiating incredibly intense emotions to manifest.

An Infestation needs to be feeding on those same sort of emotions at a lower but still consistent level for sometime before it becomes and Imago & then longer before it manifests. Some people could well fall fast, but others could resist or reject.

Time Frame:

A fair idea and admittedly I am debating revising that Startrain idea a bit, though I do still regard it as useful in the sense of "Oh shit, I can't control Akuma outside this radius, what does that mean for my experiment!" sense.

But it was such a particular scenario that the Infestagator would likely make more sense, or Lila losing herself because Gabriel didn't quite realize he'd already primed her to become an Imago without meaning to in his lead up for Hero Day.

But also excellent insights there, I do love the idea of Gabriel trying to get the test subjects who may have left in the interim to come back, because his plan is pretty fucked if they are outside his radius.

Also an Imago manifestation replacing Feast would be really clever actually, kudos!

Glad it makes sense regarding it spreading, thanks!

I imagine Imago territory disputes and conflicts of interests would indeed be a big issue.

Also yeah Imago with limited ability to create servants and allies would likely be leery of those that can do so easily getting too strong.

In that regard though I am also imagining how big of a problem Imago who can work together would be as we know Akuma can sometimes collaborate too.

Also agreed, there's a lot of potential avenues to explore with the concepts, so glad you think there's such potential!

Nymphs

So glad I was able to clarify things, thanks and pleased you liked the alterative forms of Nymphs!

Catacombs

True and true!

Also yeah I could definitely see that, different Akuma & by extension Imago have different temperaments. Even though all trend towards unhinged, as noted some are much better able to chill out than others.

unLondon is an intriguing concept, and while I don't strictly think a mirror imago of Paris would align with most Imago's interests, I can definitely see a lot developing down there that gives it a "Oh wow, this is becoming its own world" sort of vibe. & there'd certainly be reflections of what's up above given people's Imago tend to reflect aspects of themselves.

Just imagining some poor vampire that never did much harm living in the catacombs suddenly having all these colorful, deranged magical assholes forcing them out of their territory all of a sudden XD

Though depending on power, some may be stronger than a given Imago, lots of variables at play.

Will keep the videos in mind, thanks!

Akuma/Source

I think it'd be a very case by case basis, how much of the original person informed the resulting Imago, VS how much of the Imago came into being at the expense of and in contrast to their host. What a given Imago & Akuma are like, possible past relationships and so on. I do think the more overtly out of control nature of Akuma, an Hawk Moth's influence would make them harder to collab with though not impossible.

So Chrysididae was in season 4 & post Miracle Queen, so I am unsure either such event would happen, though its not impossible. But then Chloe to become something else, or Chrysididae for other reasons too.

Within the context of Chrysididae specifically, I think Sabrina would be more angry than sad, with said anger directed at the heroes, for not picking up on the fact Hawk Moth had been slowly destroying her friends mind and soul. As well as a little bit at herself for not realizing some of Chloe's more unhinged behavior was a cry for help and not just her being moody.

Settlement rankings!

Mhm exactly, yeah!

Given the name colonies, Pupae and INfestation I think its certainly possible, though also not easy, at least not early on. I imagine a big eith with Imago would be like... Early, even if you can't fix them you can stop them mostly like any other AKuma, its just a matter of finding a way to keep them exhausted or trapped.

But if Darkblade say... Took over all the Paris catacombs, he likely could start setting up colonies in towns outside Paris, encircle the city, take it over and then expand and do so faster and faster. This would of course be in an 'ideal' scenario where nothing goes wrong.

I imagine there is likely a limit to how much territory an Imago can personally influence before the colonies become theirs in name and theme only but are functionally independent and so on. There's a lot of wiggle room.

Imago taking over each others domains is an interesting idea. I think there'd be many ways to play it from just needing/wanting it destroyed. To occupying but not altering it and putting it to work for them like how some ant colonies overtake one another. & so on.

Had a spark of Cortical Cocoon inspiration & wanted to share, namely regarding those transformed by Imago into part of their host.

Like how Syren wanted to make Kim her prince or Darkblade turned people into his loyal retinue.

We already discussed earlier how unless people's powers sort of related to that kind of thing to begin with it would be hard or near impossible without the Butterfly to do so & I largely stand by that.

But I do think there's some wiggle room & that its worth discussing how nests or hives might be able to form, & other similar stuff.

Let's use Syren and Darkblade as they both had an emphasis on transforming the world & people around them but in very different ways.

Syren:

She flooded Paris, which given Paris isn't inside a giant sinkhole means at some point magical walls to keep the water at a stable level will have appeared.

Without the butterfly she likely cannot do this, but likely could create a smaller contained area or water, or suffuse her power into pre-existing bodies of water and gain influence over them.

Beyond that, she explicitly wanted to make Kim like her, and for him to join her as her prince. This is not an AKuma simply forcing someone to obey as Maladiktator does, or creating barely alive dolls like Befana.

This is much more powerful & intimate, it is the creation/ascension of a Nymph, known as brides in bug language, these are the Imago's companion. It is someone they shared some of their raw essence with, transforming them into something of an Imago.

Due to the process the transformation was more controlled in terms of what it would create & the resulting creature is likely still somewhat weaker than their predecessor, or otherwise heavily influenced by them.

But, but they still have their own personality filtering through & otherwise more personality & agency. Consider it akin to how a vampire might have a strong hold over those they sire.

Darkblade:

He could take command of others and after knighting them in a ritual, transformed them into his obedient knights. He was also capable of transforming things like cars into catapults.

Due to the nature of Akuma & Imago he cannot just make anything he wants, with or without the butterfly, it has to still align with their identity so to speak. But they can enhance and grow said ability over time.

At least in theory, but if an Imago's sense of self shifts too much (No easy task) their powers likely shift with it. Like re-emerging one might lose their legs, but gain wings, ya feel me?

Anyway, Darkblade does not create Nymph's while he's not significantly stronger than his subjects. This is because his powers are heavily rooted in changing the people and world around him through symbolic actions, Hence needing to knight his subjects & hang the flag.

What Darkblade creates with his powers are Pupae (Dolls), or they could be called Drones, or Subimago (That might fit the Nypmhs better) or taking from Berserk, pseudos'.

The end result is the same.

Pupae are heavily reliant on and tethered too their Imago Master and while not in possession of their creators power. They are more enhanced compared to their former selves in some ways; unless the Imago wants super weak creatures to surround it. Being in possession of supernatural nature endowed by their new form.

These entities are not as strong as their maker, or Nypmhs, and they tend to have less free will, though it is not absent and more personality can grow or re-emerge over time. I imagine with time, hierarchies tend to emerge with those who have personalities emerging ranking higher thanks to being better at creative thinking nd able to grow beyond the confines of their role.

But these are also dangerous because they could become something else over time, ironically this is more possible with Pupae than Nymphs' due to the lesser intimacy. Possibly leading to the emergence of a new Imago "Queen" should the head of the hive fall. Not that Nymph's can't break away just that its harder.

Notes:

I imagine both types are capable of some form of internal self sufficiency. Also this is different from infestation which is more just jamming an Akuma or sufficient Akuma essence into a person & seeing what emerges. These transformations have similarities but are more limited by nature but also more stable and controllable.

Off-topic but the mention of Hives and Nests makes me think of [PROTOTYPE] and the Hives from there, which uh...

Well this probably isn't what you meant. But while we're on the subject...

I imagine hives and nests of Imago would tend to be much more... subtle. Unless of course the Imago in question was powerful enough to hold off the resulting attacks from being so blatant about it.

They are established in places like abandoned or otherwise disused buildings, maybes parts of the apparently quite large underground of Paris, or perhaps even just hiding out in a rented apartment or storage unit.

Though that last one probably isn't affected by the Imago as much, in order to avoid any suspicion. Likely temporary ones then.

So most Imago who decide to establish a Nest or Hive opt for locations that are less likely to be noticed if they start affecting the environment. But not so far out of the way to be inconvenient for whatever goals they are pursuing.

Anyway, moving back to the subject of the secondary entities, it is very interesting what you've come up with.

So Nympths are sort of like the progeny of a vampire or something?

That's the kind of vibe I got, anyway. Can't really think of anything to add on about them.

I'll carry on to the Darkblade-Style secondary entities, then. I'm not really certain which of the name options I like the most. They all have their pros and cons.

Still, subimago makes me think that should refer to the apparent 'inheritor' in the event of the Imago leader's demise. Y'know, since they act like an Imago but aren't really an Imago, but can become an Imago if the previous Imago dies or is otherwise 'dethroned'. Which I suppose opens up the possibility of a coup in some imago Hive structures.

On that note, I'm kind of thinking that a Nest should refer to a smaller scale base meant for either a singular Imago or an Imago and any Nympths or close allies. Whereas a Hive is meant to act as a base for Darkblade-type Imago and their many secondary entities that operate as a command structure.

Anyway, back to the names. I feel like that the proposed names could all be employed in a sort of ranking system. Perhaps going as follows, in reverse order:

Pupae - Equivalent to a recruit, or perhaps conscript. They have just been controlled by the Imago, but can still be broken free if someone intervenes. However, if enough times passes or they arrive at the Hive, they will proceed onto the next stage.

Drone - Fully enmeshed in the structure. Most have no personality and are rather dull. They form the bulk of the secondary entities. Theoretically possible to recover, but incredibly difficult to do so.

Pseudoimago - Some Drones manage to gain or recover some amount of personality and mental ability. They tend to eventually move up to here, becoming the lieutenants to the Imago. This of course comes with a certain degree of additional power.

Subimago - There is only one Subimago. They serve as an underboss, right hand man, and overall second in command to the Imago. In the event of an Imago's death, they are likely to end up succeeding them.

For references purposes, I downloaded an image of the mafia family structure off of wikipedia and have edited it to represent the structure I've described.

Ignore the rectangle next to imago, I had to cover up the position of Consigliere with it.

But yeah that pretty much fits the general command structure idea.

Also sorry for the delay in answering this. Took me a while to figure out my response.

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captaincryolicious · 4 years ago

Text

When Thunder Strikes

➳ Albedo, Childe, Xiao, Kaeya, Chongyun, Xingqiu (seperatedly) x gn!reader

➳ Headcanons ; 2.8k

➳ Fluff, comfort ; Thunderstorms

You are afraid of thunder, and a storm strikes when you happen to be with him. [O3.O6.2O21]

Zep's Note ; Featuring my favorite characters because this one is pretty self indulgent, not gonna lie. I am afraid of thunder and the majority of this is written while I was trying to distract myself during a thunderstorm.

content under the cut | masterlist

Albedo

You are out with Albedo for some in-the-field research, collecting data near Wolvendom.

The weather is perfect, offering you the ideal circumstances for said research; the sun is shining but it isn't too hot outside, and the soil is still moist after a summery shower earlier today.

You progress really quickly, finding samples of various subjects and being able to perform some on-location experiments and comparisons. The list of observations expands nicely and Albedo even expects your thesis to be proven true or false by the end of the day.

It's all good and well until you see dark clouds packing in the sky rapidly. In what seems like a blink of an eye, the sunny weather is long-gone, and you hear the thunder rolling in the distance.

Albedo is unfazed, and you too try to continue your part of the expedition, but the thunderstorm nears and you grow more and more nervous.

And then the first flash sharply illuminates Wolvendom and you freeze, heart hammering in your chest.

By the time the thunder shakes the ground, you too are shaking but with fear instead.

"Albedo?" you call out, and the alchemist can instantly tell by the pitch of your voice that something is off.

It's not too hard to add up one and two; he quickly realizes that it's the thunderstorm that scares you.

You two are a bit too far away from Mondstadt to go back, so he takes you to a rock formation that forms a small cave that will offer enough protection to wait for the storm to pass.

Recites a complete definition of thunder down to the last detail and talks about the science behind lightning along with some facts that do little to soothe your terror.

Not helping, Albedo..

The way his cool hands hold yours and his calm yet electric blue eyes looking at you with concern help you calm down though.

He might not be the best when it comes to offering consolation, but something about his usual demeanor makes his presence calming and soothing nevertheless. He's Albedo, and that's enough.

Stays with you in the cave even when the storm has long passed. He isn't going to ask you to resume your research until you're fully calm again, so he awaits your initiative.

Happy to see you relaxed and calm again when you go back outside once the sun comes out.

Childe

You and Childe are out in the wildlands of Liyue for some Fatui-related business.

Originally it's not even up to you to deal with matters such as these, but Childe refused help from any of his fellow harbingers and insisted for you to join him.

Something he does quite often.

The weather has been gloomy all day and you honestly didn't feel like going with him at all, having your suspicions about the upcoming thunderstorm, but Childe knew you couldn't say no to him when he gave you his most innocent puppy eyes.

So now you are walking next to him, away from one of the camps of his subordinates you just visited to retrieve some goods.

The dreary rain is already annoying enough, but when you hear the first rumble of thunder in the distance you are ready to evaporate.

You flinch, silently cursing his pretty ocean blue eyes.

Childe notices immediately.

The downside of a certain harbinger knowing you through and through; he can read you like a book.

Wait, let me rephrase that; sometimes it can work in your favor, but not when you try to hide something. For example, your fear of thunder.

He teases you, deadass.

"Aww, is my Y/N scared of thunder?"

Of course you ignore him, and again and again. As the thunderstorm draws closer, you grow more and more antsy, and that's when it clicks for Childe.

You were really scared.

He instantly regrets making fun of you, and quickly takes your hand in his securely, even squeezing reassuringly and apologizing multiple times.

The best option is to take you back to the Fatui camp, which he does. Once there, he deliberately ignores the confused faces of his subordinates and doesn't even bother to explain.

He ushers some skirmishers out of their tent and drags you inside, sitting down and pulling you in a cozy and protective side hug.

"Nothing's gonna happen, Y/N," he tells you.

Smiles in relief when he feels your body relaxing against his after a while, and rubs soothing circles on your back and shoulder every time you tense up again.

For what remains of the thunderstorm, he'd tell you stories about whatever comes to his mind, all while holding you close.

I'm a sucker for soft boy Childe.

Xiao

Xiao is a busy man, often out to fend off demons and sometimes disappearing for days on end.

Because of that, you make sure to enjoy the times he is at the Wangshu Inn, never knowing how long he's going to stay this time.

Spoiler alert: he's there way more often now because he wants to see a certain person you.

Thunder has been looming all day, the faint roar of thunder already audible in the distance for quite some time now.

Still, you decided to push your aversion aside and went up to the roof of the inn to spend time with Xiao on his favorite spot.

Now you are here, and while the view is stunning, you can only focus on the way the wind around you picks up and the sky darkens.

You try to distract yourself by tracing the outlines of the yaksha's tattoo with the pad of your index finger, but you still flinch sharply when a strike of lighting sears through the sky.

Xiao doesn't miss it, his amber eyes narrowed as he tears his gaze from the dark clouds to look at you. "Y/N?"

He doesn't get it; why do mortals fear something so common? And more importantly, why did you come up here when thunder was already approaching long before?

"I never asked you to be here," he replies when you tell him you just wanted to see him.

That's tsundere language for "Y/N, you don't have to conquer your fears just to see me. You could have asked me to come down."

You know him well enough to know that he often tends to come off unintentionally insensitive without meaning any harm, but with you already being on edge because of the thunderstorm it actually hurts a little for once.

His eyes widen once he sees the effect his words have on you, guilt washing over him.

Though he still doesn't understand why you are so afraid of a thunderstorm, he also sees that now isn't the time to fret about foolish antics of humans.

Picks you up bridal-style and swiftly jumps down from the roof when the storm increases even more, not wanting to see you cower in fear any longer. He made a promise to keep you safe and sound; a look of fear wasn't welcome on your face for as long as he was around.

Gives Verr Goldet a very confused look when she looks at the two of you with a smile, but he shrugs it off and takes you to a quiet corner.

Doesn't really know what to do, so he holds you close every time another strike of lightning makes you flinch and refuses to leave your side until the storm has passed – no matter how long it takes.

Kaeya

It's one of those days, where he has to do a lot of paperwork in his office.

Being cooped up inside all day drives him nuts so you were happy to offer him some company.

And distraction, probably.

The sunlight filtered through his windows tauntingly for the biggest part of the day, as if it was calling you to come outside.

Kaeya is lucky that you love him because missing out on such a sunny day didn't make you too happy.

Watching him be fully immersed in his work isn't too bad either, though. The look of utmost concentration on his face is quite a sight.

Sadly he is fully aware of your eyes on him, and he can't help but shoot you a quick wink every now and then.

Somewhere between your mindless staring and his flirty winks, the sun disappears behind a thick layer of cumulus, also bringing a sheen of darkness over the Cavalry Captain's office.

It's not long before the rain starts pouring down, and suddenly you no longer regret your decision to join Kaeya inside for a day.

It's actually kind of cozy, being inside the dimly lit office with the rain hammering on the windows.

To follow the mood, you decide to grab a book from his bookshelf, just to entertain yourself with for as long as the other is still focused on his work. Not that you are bored of looking at him, but his ego has been boosted enough for one day.

Completely out of nowhere, the Favonius' headquarters is shaken by a loud thunder crashing over the city of freedom.

You jump in fright, barely able to stop yourself from shrieking out loud. The book you just grabbed flies from your grip, tumbling to the floor and landing with a loud thud.

"Y/N?" Kaeya calls out, surprised by both the thunder and your reaction.

"Sorry!" you apologize, reaching out to pick up the book but flinching when a flash of lightning now paints the office.

Kaeya is a keen man, he instantly knows what's up and you can see it on his face.

You mentally prepare yourself for a round of teasing, but surprisingly he stays quiet and pushes his chair away from his desk.

"Come here," he says, patting his lap.

There's nothing smug about him when you approach him, practically jumping into his lap when another thunder roars outside.

Scoots back his chair into its original position, resuming his work with you perched on his lap safely.

Since your fear is rather harmless, Kaeya allows himself to find it cute, but he doesn't have it in him to tease you with it. Not now.

But then he decides that he likes this set-up, so even when the thunderstorm is long over, he refuses to let you get off his lap. Maybe his initial intentions were nice, but Kaeya is still Kaeya.

Chongyun

Chongyun has invited you to join him on a trip to Wuwang Hill. Recently there have been rumors related to ghosts and evil spirits there again and he really wanted to investigate.

You're quite skeptical, but somehow Chongyun's enthusiasm is contagious so every time you go with him, you end up partaking in his investigation as avidly as him.

Wuwang Hill kind of gives you the chills, but you know that if anything related to spirits really were to happen, the exorcist would chase them away in no-time.

That is, if his yang energy didn't do the job already.

The irony was bitter; the odds of running into a ghost on accident on your own were bigger than finding one on your ghost hunts with Chongyun. But it's okay, you're just happy to spend time with him.

Wuwang Hill has another terror in store for you, though. The air is murky and suffocating and nearly buzzing with tension already, something that doesn't forebode much good. Yet you still follow him.

Not a smart move, Y/N…

It's not a surprise that you're suddenly caught up in a thunderstorm, and the already spooky hill looks straight up haunted right now, with the blanket of darkness, the howling wind and roaring thunder. You are terrified.

Chongyun initially panics a little too, but he quickly composes himself and takes you to the most decent looking shelter in the rotten remains of an old village.

It's cold, and the sorry excuse of a shed does little to shield you from the ongoing storm.

He feels so bad; he's the one who invited you here and now he has no clue how to help you through this.

"Hey, uh, I know telling you not to be afraid is kind of pointless, but I'm right next to you and I'll protect you, okay?"

Severely underestimates his ability to comfort you; actually does a great job.

Holds your hands, absentmindedly plays with your fingers and smiles softly when you take over and fidget with his fingers instead. It was such a small thing but you were noticeably less tense now that you were focused on his hands.

Holding hands with Chongyun? Soft and cute and really wholesome just saying.

"Y/N? I think it's over."

But right when you avert your gaze from your connected hands to look up at the sky, another bolt of lightning cuts through the clouds and you flinch back.

"..Oh," Chongyun mutters, and the way he looked like a kicked puppy made you chuckle silently.

You snuggle up to him, and a hangout that was supposed to be a ghost hunt ends up in a small shed for a long time, waiting for the thunder to pass.

Xingqiu

Afternoons with Xingqiu are either extremely adventurous or super serene and relaxed, there is no in between.

Except that today, there kind of is.

You and Xingqiu are sprawled out on a colorful blanket in the shadow of a lush tree in Liyue Harbor.

Conveniently close to Wanmin Bookhouse, may I add.

There's a few piles of books around you, the byproduct of a sunny day filled with novels and live commentary on the wildest scenes.

You two often end up like this, which is no wonder.

Xingqiu is by far the most fervent book enthusiast you have ever met, and you don't know if there's anything more entertaining than to listen to Xingqiu's vivid commentary when he is totally immersed in a novel.

When it comes to that, today is no different. But today is about to become a bit more adventurous – and not in a good way for you.

You don't notice the birds falling silent over Xingqiu's excited voice, you miss how the sun disappears behind the clouds, too caught up in his long rant about a stupid decision the hero of his current novel made.

"I refuse to believe he willingly stepped into that smoldering portal, when it was so obviously a trap. He must have had a deeper noble reason to do so, but I'm afraid we're many volumes away from that revelation."

Only when the rumble of thunder traverses through the streets of the harbor, you hurry to your feet fight the urge to take a mad dash to the safe inside of a building.

Xingqiu knows all too well how much you hate thunderstorms. After all, you never passed the opportunity to point that out whenever a novel contained thunder.

As mischievous as he sometimes may be, right now he just collects his books and the blanket as quickly as he can before ushering you into the nearest teahouse.

This particular storm appears to be quite the savage one and you feel the floor shake underneath your feet. Needless to say, the warm tea Xingqiu bought you does little to nothing to soothe you.

So he tries something else.

At first you thought that Xingqiu reciting the wildest passages regarding thunder he has ever read in his novels would only make things worse.

I mean, he's talking about a thunderstorm while you are cowering in fear because of a thunderstorm.

But this young lad is a genius, maybe even unintentionally so. Soon, you find yourself listening to him talking animatedly, blocking out the sounds of thunder outside. He even gets you to laugh a few times, and he will smugly use this against the next person who calls reading a waste of time.

"And that's where I'll end it for now," Xingqiu concludes, flashing you a grin. "By the way, Y/N, did you know the storm ceased around half an hour ago? We can go back outside if you want."

It will forever remain a mystery to you how he so expertly managed to distract you that you forgot about an entire thunderstorm going on outside.

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patt-writes-stuff · 4 years ago

Text

Beach Days with The Genshin Characters!

Wc: 1.7k+

Type: Headcanons

CW: umm nothing except mentions of alcohol and maybe people being creeps? (None of the chars or you tho it’s very brief)

A/N: HI IM BACK FROM THE DEAD! These were supposed to be a lot shorter but I got too excited. If you by any chance wanna see some for your fav character lmk! I know it says request are closed in my bio but since it’s just hcs it’s a lot less (and I really enjoyed writing these so ajdhdhdk)

🔥Diluc:

This man cannot swim. Tell me otherwise, I dare you.

Kaeya tried to jokingly push him off a lil diving cliff area when they were kids.

He almost drowned. Kaeya was in a lot of trouble.

So, good luck getting this man to actually get in the water. The most he’ll do is sit on the shore where it’s very shallow.

He usually prefers to just stay under an umbrella on the sand and keep an eye on you.

Calls you every two hours in advance and helps you reapply sunscreen.

He’s very pale so I feel like he burns pretty easily, meaning he needs to reapply super frequently otherwise he will become a tomato. He brings like three bottles of the good shit. Tch, rich boy.

If you ask him to build a sandcastle, he will pretend to be annoyed but do it anyways. Ends up finding it kind of enjoyable.

He has the maids prepare a nice picnic basket for the two of you!! It’s got all your favorite foods plus grape juice cuz y’know.

If any creepy peeps approach you, don’t worry. He brought his vision and his claymore.

Of course, he won’t have to resort to such violent lengths. Everyone in Mondstadt knows who Diluc is and they probably know you’re his s/o, so they’re usually smart enough to mind their own business.

If they don’t, don’t worry. Diluc’s glare is more than enough to scare them away.

All in all I definitely recommend a beach day with him! I’ll give it a solid 8/10 (-2 for not wearing floaties and getting in the water with you or letting you teach him how to swim.

🖌Albedo:

You guys definitely 100% take Klee out with you on a beach day.

You guys bring snacks, beach toys like buckets and shovels for optimal sandcastle building, a picnic blanket, etc.

Jean definitely packs a lot more stuff for you guys to take with you than you actually need.

It’s only cuz she’s worried for Klee and is nervous about not being able to go with you guys though! It’s very sweet really.

Klee tries to bomb the fish and cause havoc at the beach 😭

I think Albedo is a good swimmer and gets in with you and Klee so that he can help her (which is very cute omfg)

He’s set total workaholic, as we know, so it took a lot of convincing to get him to put down his experiments and accompany you to the beach (however, he’s particularly weak to yours and klee’s puppy dog eyes so he caved eventually)

Though, looking at you and Klee happily building sandcastles and decorating them with pretty seashells of all shapes and colors, he can’t really find it in himself to complain.

He, of course, takes this opportunity to take out his sketchbook and draw the waves, seagulls, you… Of course he won’t let you see the sketch book no sir. He’s a bit embarrassed to be honest, but an artist such as himself recognizes beauty when he sees it so he simply had to draw you. (God I love him so much)

If a creepy person approaches you,- well don’t worry. The sight of a small arsonist child blowing up fish is enough to scare them away 🥰

At the end of the day, all three of you are all ticketed out. Albedo has to carry Klee back to Mondstadt because the poor baby fell asleep the moment you started drying her hair with the beach towel. You’re, of course, carrying back Dodoco and your bags. (You also manage to sneak a peak at Albedo’s sketchbook and find some very pretty drawings of you and Klee with your sandcastle)

At the end of the day, you guys tuck Klee in and read her a bedtime story (she woke up and insisted). Afterwards Albedo takes you back home and thanks you for coming with you and Klee (which you ofc say wasn’t a problem because how could you not???)

All in all? I’ll give it a solid 10/10. You’ve got tasty food, fun times, your boyfriend and his cute kid adoptive sister (yes I am very biased idc)

🦋Xiao:

I think it would take a lot of convincing to get Xiao to go out on a beach date with you.

He’ll probably see it as a distraction getting in the way of his slaying of monsters and demons.

However, he also worships the grounds you walk on (hehe, simp XD), so I don’t think it’ll take that much convincing on your part (especially because it’s is self appointed duty to keep you safe so if you insist on going with or without him, he supposes he’ll have to go)

Is definitely a bit tense at first. He doesn’t know how to let loose and chill so while you’re sun tanning on a beach chair he’s like 🧍‍♂️ahdgshjsjd

Eventually calms down a bit though! You get him to relax and eat some almond tofu you brought along with you. It definitely gets him to perk up.

I don’t think he would mind getting into the water but I do think he’d rather walk along the shore and collect pretty seashells and sea glass.

He later gives the ones he deems pretties to you (he hands them over to you with a blush on his face and pretends it’s not a big deal and he definitely gets all pouty and grouchy when you coo at how adorable he is)

As for creeps, Xiao is both intimidating and well known in Liyue. No one is brave enough (or, let’s be honest, dumb enough) to approach you with any bad intentions.

Sure, Xiao has sworn never to harm a human/citizen of Liyue but that doesn’t mean he can’t scare the absolute shit out of them.

I think Xiao would definitely enjoy a beach day 🥺🥺. He’d find it very relaxing to go out with you and just hear the sound of waves and feel the sand under his feet.

He’d definitely hint at wanting to do it again later. Of course, he won’t tell you. No, that’s a foolish mortal activity and he has much better things to do.

Wait no, don't turn around, yes he will go with you next month.

All in all, I give Xiao a 9/10. It’s a very relaxing day (which he deserves 😤). And you get to see a whole new side of him.

💎Ningguang:

OK SO ORIGINALLY I WASN'T GONNA WRITE ONE FOR HER (at least not in this post) BUT THEN I THOUGHT OF LADY NINGGUANG TAKING YOU TO A WHOLE ASS PRIVATE BEACH

She knows you don’t care about how exclusive the beach you go to is (in fact, the fact that you don’t care about where you are or what you do is one of the things that make her fall more and more madly in love with you) but you deserve the best so she’s gonna go all out.

She’s a busy lady so days like this where the two of you get to go somewhere and be together are few and far between.

She knows it’s hard to be in a relationship with someone who is busy 24/7, so she appreciates how you remain by her side despite all hardships. (Y’all are a whole ass power couple istg)

The two of you spend your day relaxing. Sun bathing, drinking piña coladas, maybe taking a dip in the ocean. It’s all very pleasant!

Ningguang doesn’t quite feel like the type of person who would sit in the sand and make sandcastle, however you’re more than welcome to make some yourself. She finds it endearing <3

If you insist on her helping, she’ll eventually comply. She loves you too much to say no. I feel like she’ll either be terrible at it or like a total architect.

Sand is technically like tiny rocks right? So maybe she can use her vision to help her? If that’s the case, she’s making a replica of the Jade chamber out of sand.

If any creepy person comes up to you don’t worry. Ningguang will buy the whole beach and then use her right of admission as owner to permanently ban them from the beach you’re at.

The only downside to a day at the beach with Ningguang might be that there’s a big chance she’ll be called to tend urgent matters, seeing as she is the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing and all.

If that does happen, she’ll be sure to make it up to you somehow, whether it be rescheduling or taking care of the matter as soon as possible so that the two of you can get back to your day of relaxation and fun.

All in all?? Lady Ningguang will treat you like total royalty and the two of you will have an amazing time! I give her an 11/10 (she would literally buy a whole beach for you to be comfortable I mean c’mon)

🍃Venti:

BEACH DAYS WITH HIM ARE SO FUN!!

Swimming? Yeah, he’d love to! Sunbathing? Sure! He’ll ever conjure up a light breeze for the two of you. Sandcastle building? WELL OF COURSE WHY DO YOU THING HE BROUGHT ALL THESE BUCKETS AND SHOVELS?

No but seriously, he might be the best person out of everyone here to go to the beach with. He’s fun, free spirited, and he’s a traveling bard who’s been alive long enough to know where all the best beaches in Teyvat are. (He also knows a guy- er, well, dragon I suppose- who is willing to fly them to any place).

He’ll play some soft tunes while you doze under the sun.

HE PICKS PRETTY SHELLS AND GIFTS THEM TO YOU!!!

He will bring booze. I’m pretty sure this is a necessity. If you’re a little upset about it, he’ll probably “eheh~” his way out of it. That slick bastard.

If you really insist on him not drinking, he won’t consume much alcohol.

If some creepy person approaches you and tries to ruin you your day of beach time fun, all of their stuff will suddenly be blown away, causing them to scramble back to their spot and (almost embarrassingly) flail around trying to catch everything. What a shame…

At the end of the day, he’d be a little sad to leave. Definitely makes plans about tbe two of you going back soon.

I gotta give him a 10/10 he’s just so fun omg.

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chibinightowl · 3 years ago

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Someone reblogged the pumpkin Tim fight I wrote earlier (see HERE) and left some tags with a comment about some aftercare. Why not? Here’s some hurt/comfort from Jason’s POV. I’d tag them, but Tumblr is being Tumblr.

Breaking into the Pretender’s apartment is never an easy feat, but it’s one that Jason has managed multiple times--ostensibly in the name of seeking out the weak spots. In reality, it’s for the periodic itch that needs to be scratched and for some fucking reason, Timmy is the one he goes to for exactly that.

This time though, he’s got a concussed Red Robin sprawled across his back in a fireman’s carry, slipping and sliding thanks to the pumpkin guts all over him.

Why the hell did he sign up for this?

Right. Alfred. Jason isn’t sure how the old man knows about the arrangement between him and Tim, but he does. And Bruce apparently doesn’t, which is just fucking fine with him. What they do behind closed doors is none of his business.

Okay, so maybe it didn’t exactly start behind closed doors, but that’s beside the point.

The last trap is finally disarmed and Jason makes his way into the Pretender’s home. It’s just as messy as the last time he was here a couple of weeks ago, but he knows Tim--there’s a method to the madness. In that big head of his, everything is in its place and he can zero in on it in moments.

Which is why moving shit around before leaving is so much fun.

But Jason isn’t here for that. Not this time.

Tim moans softly as he’s sat on the floor in the large bathroom, propped against one wall. His head sags forward and Jason remembers what he’d said earlier, about his vision blacking out.

“Shit, Pretender,” he says quietly, removing his gloves to gently probe the back of Tim’s head. “Why the hell were you even out tonight?”

Three days without sleep, that’s what Alfred had said when he called Jason to find Tim and bring him home. All jokes aside, a Red Robin on a full day of sleep would have kicked the Great Gourd--heh, that was a good one--into next week. Hell, even a Red Robin on two days without sleep could have.

Jason frowns as his fingers find a damp spot. “Please be pumpkin guts,” he mutters, drawing back his hand to look.

No luck. The tips of his fingers were red.

That means only one thing--someone needs a CT scan or maybe even an MRI, immediately.

Tim stirs. “Wha--Where am I?”

“Your bathroom, Timmers,” Jason answers, using his clean hand to remove the domino from Tim’s face. Big blue eyes blink owlishly at him as neither pupil responds to the light around them. “You able to see me?”

“There’s two of you. No...three?” Tim’s head flops to the side and his bangs conceal those beautiful eyes. “I don’t think I can take three of you at once.”

Jason can’t help as his mind goes right to the gutter. “Two, maybe. One at each end. It would take a lot of prep to get you ready for three.”

Tim laughs weakly, then winces. “Ow, that hurts.”

“Yeah, your head is banged up pretty good. I hate saying this, but I think we need to get you back to the Cave for Alfie to patch you up.”

“No.” Tim tries to bat Jason’s hands away. A newborn kitten has more strength, sheesh.

“Sorry, no can do. You’re bleeding.”

Still, Tim is more coherent than he’d expected, so that’s a win.

“No, I don’t wanna go. Call Kon.”

Jason blinks because what? “Call the Superman-wannabe? Why?”

Tim might be concussed, but the expression on his face is 1000% the one he wears when he thinks someone is being an idiot. “Cuz he has x-ray vision. He can see if there’s something wrong. He’s done it enough times for me.”

“Oh, really?”

Shit, when Tim’s feeling better--hell, maybe even a bit before so his wily ass can’t escape--they’re gonna have a few words about just how often Tim gets hurt and doesn’t tell anyone in the family.

“I think we’re gonna have a little chat about that later,” Jason continues as he starts to remove pieces of the Red Robin uniform. It’s a bitch as he tries not to jostle Tim too much, but once he’s got the main catch released, the rest comes off easy.

He carefully doesn’t think about how much practice he’s had doing that under much more rushed and darker circumstances.

“Do we have to?” Tim asks. His voice is starting to slide back into the slur that seems to precede him passing out.

Jason takes hold of his chin and gently raises it so that their eyes meet. There are streaks of drying pumpkin across one cheek. “Yeah, Timbers. I think we do.”

Tim sighs as his eyes close again. “Fine,” he whispers, so soft that if Jason weren’t right there, he’d have missed it.

He slumps forward into Jason’s arms as he falls back into unconsciousness.

Well, fuck. So much for asking what the super-clone’s number is. Still, he does have one advantage most people don’t.

Assuming the super is even listening.

“Hey, Kon-El! The other half of your World’s Finest 2.0 team is askin’ for your help! Or was asking... He’s passed out.”

Now all he has to do is wait. Idly, Jason pulls Tim into a more comfortable position in his lap and strokes at the fine black hair on his replacement’s head. His fingers catch on a clump of pumpkin and he frowns, eyeing it crossly.

He’ll give Kon five minutes before calling Babs, Tim’s preferences be damned.

They’re still sitting there together a few minutes later when Kon arrives, with Jason carefully picking pumpkin guts from Tim’s hair.

#chibinightowl writes #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #JayTim #i think i got the hurt/comfort right for once!#but i might have introduced some angst #oops?

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sugar-petals · 4 years ago

Text

♡ physical affection; levi

↳ NOTE. characterizing boyfriend levi, my passion project lmao! with some sexy moments included 👀

WORDS. ⇢ 7k

tags / warnings. ⚠️ smut, fluff, soft sub!levi x female reader, hurt/comfort hc, angst, shower sex, blowjobs + handjobs + boobjobs (yep. spoiling the captain), face-sitting, protected sex, soap kink, season 3-4 setting, no manga spoilers

Ready for a surprise? It’s not really about what kind of skinship he’s extremely selective about and what not. This is only something people would perceive about him at first glance. Instead, it comes down to how emotionally sheltered he feels. Because of his experiences, that predicates everything else. Which is why Levi’s sexuality is as complex as it is.

But also, in its sudden perfect expression once a person gives him a different perspective: That’s the time when he is touchier. The more in private, the better. The lights down low, with only a candle or two shining from another room. Broad daylight brings the harsh truths and the shaking ground. Nighttime is when Levi feels more intimate and open to caress, down his back and arms, the shoulders, the side of his neck. Done with extreme gentleness, and all of your deep respect.

If you offer him an environment of trust, Levi is open to almost anything and would even magically doze off in your arms for a little while. Breathing softly, resting for the first time in weeks, the brows becoming less tense the deeper he sleeps. You asking if you can stroke his hair (carefully, not messing it up or anything) is something he can’t say no to. The closet romantic in him will fulfill you any reasonable wish as soon as you’d ask anyway.

We know how receptive the captain is to a request, and how much there can be a soft spot for somebody in his heart. If you’re forward enough to just ask, Levi sets himself that goal and opens up. He is diligent with it just as you’d expect. That especially includes the things he says are „absolute horseshit nonsense“ and „disgusting, useless activities“ when reacting to newly formed couples kissing in the survey corps at the other end of the room. Is he a hypocrite and a hater? Actually— not at all.

Levi is a raised rather than born skeptic. Between courage and care, he is always gonna be torn. Both didn’t work in his favor at some point. But at the end of the day, he fears recklessness more than being cautious. Looking at these couples, he knows that they could lose each other the very next day. Or hell, the next hour. Not everybody has 200 titan kills.

Not everybody is a physically indestructible Ackerman destined and designed to escape death and outlive others whether they want it or not. And showing themselves this vulnerable out in the open is even more dangerous considering all the political intrigues, chaos, attacks, and espionage going on.

When he’s scoffing at skinship in the survey corps, it’s not his intent to ruin the couples and their little happiness in the present moment (nothing he sees as more tragically precious), or say only he can have a relationship because he’s strong enough to make it survive. If anything, Levi is the prime example of how all his connections were doomed exactly because of his status pulling in all the danger. He very well and painfully knows.

What I mean is: He sees the brutality of consequences that can create more misery than if two people would just go about their business. Levi already dreads that the same might happen to him. But after all, the behavior of others is easier to rectify than his own undeniable feelings for you. Which he cannot control in any way, which is why he reacts to others instead. Looking at other people holding hands, he’s also afraid how dabbling in love is a distraction from threats that can even backfire on uninvolved others if someone is suddenly in harm’s way.

Levi does associate physical touch with something that takes an otherwise observing mind off when it shouldn’t be. To him, it creates something so valuable that can become an unintended burden through all kinds of circumstances, he’s seen it all, it’s terrible he had to. And the reason why he has such a torn relationship with it. You really have to know your stuff to build a resilient little bubble where Levi is not constantly hypervigilant and either past- or future-focused.

Which is pretty damn hardwired into him. It’s almost impossible to bring on that kind of atmosphere spontaneously. It has to be ritualized. His intelligence comes with the downside of overthinking and having problems with spontaneous romance, it’s good to direct his thought into something that’s always done in a specific, structured way. You sit down with tea, put the candles on, Levi finishes cleaning his weapons, makes everything combat-ready and usable in seconds, and you carefully lay down on his impeccably made bed together.

Which he never uses, Levi sleeps in chairs. Or on the ground, so he can feel any titan steps in the distance with his whole body, using the cleanest possible mat or towel as a mattress and nothing else. The bed he basically just makes to have it neat, and for you, and to have a spot to lay together.

But yeah. He will never remove his harness. Not even when you’re sleeping with each other. He’s not once gonna risk having to put it on in a hurry. The only time you will be skin to skin with him is for not even five minutes under the shower. It’s when his cleanliness beats his anxiety around being always ready, which is why that’s a time to fully cherish.

And then, he really has no qualms about you wrapping your hands around his soap-covered torso in the shower anyway. It’s the only time his inner default germaphobe is not vehemently screaming inside his already heavy heart. It doesn’t have anything to do with you, this is about his demons only, confronted with the immense relief you give him. If the latter wins over his mind’s struggle, Levi might draw out the shower time sometimes.

The other voice that tells him ‚don’t make it end so soon’ is now finally convincing him. He will dial down the water stream so he can hear what’s going on outside better to compensate, to know if there’s any ruckus or approaching hazards. Levi has instructed a fast runner among the cadets to bang on the front door under any critical circumstances immediately in the first place.

Levi says he wants to save water, too. He won’t admit it, but he also turns the showerhead to a medium pressure to hear your calm, almost-quiet moans — the barracks have terribly thin walls — better when you’re sucking him off. Slowly, smoothly, not too much spit. Folded towel under your knees because Levi insists, and he is right. The showers in the survey corps have uncomfortable floor tiles.

He makes sure you won’t get soap in your mouth as well, I don’t have to tell you that he is very circumspect. Levi isn’t usually feeling overly heated in moments like this, but he gets hard and releases fast. You swear his cum tastes like afternoon tea with milk but you won’t tell him that. And who doesn’t like tea and Levi’s homemade milk, no complaints alright.

What’s still a shame is that Levi, always being in such a constant hurry and alertness, puts too much stress on his body for him to become horny all the way. In fact, he often forgets it. He feels numb, and can’t fully take in the sensations. Levi has not been able to feel a lot of genuine pleasure in his life.

A racing mind is an absolute sex killer, and his adrenaline spikes are so high in combat that most normal things don’t do anything for him. Which is why he brews his tea extra strong. But seriously: It’s a concerning thing. And it tells you to take your time. With his whole body, doing the things he loves the most. And what else could that be? It’s straightforward: Keepin’ it clean.

You make sure that Levi feels extra comfortable by thoroughly massaging his loins and thighs with a sponge during foreplay. Yes, you’re gently working him up. All in circles and light brushing motions. Lots of soap. Suave and bubbly, like silk on his skin. It’s handmade, with oat milk, lavender, and honey. For your honey. You regularly gift a new one to him to try out scents and have supply. You can guess how much Levi appreciates it, to the moon and back in fact. The present box is neatly stored on his office table where he can always see it.

Sending out its balmy fragrance throughout the day, making the room smell amazingly aromatic to him. His nose will never grow tired or accustomed to it. Levi puts the soapbox in a drawer within literal split seconds when someone who isn’t you enters the room. „Tsk, announce yourself when you knock…“ That could even be the newest recruit who doesn’t know anything at all about the place and people. But this is just a you and him thing.

Levi doesn’t want nosy questions from the squad even though nobody would probably even notice the soap laying there in its case, much less ask him about it or the fresh scent in the air because duh, it’s Levi’s office. But it feels absolutely personal for him — so he reacts sensitively about it. This man would probably protect your lavender soap with his blades if he had to.

The captain is very secretive about your relationship in general. Who on earth would go as far as buy him a new scented bar of joy bi-weekly? At this point, he would crawl on hot coals, needles, lava, ice shards, desert sand, and a mile-long straight of legos (laid out by a maniacally laughing Zeke personally) for you.

Although you wouldn’t allow any of it. Nothing should ever hurt those kitty paws, I mean captain hands and captain feet. You’d put Zeke on blast on your own, luring him with a banana to confuse his senses and then, whack, homerun the monkey into the ocean with Levi’s bristle broom. Problem solved. Anyway.

Levi wouldn’t hurt himself willingly that way either, the ice shards don’t stand a chance. He has sworn to protect his own life out of self-respect, to honor those passed by living on bravely toward the goal they worked for and being the one always coming home to you. You can rely on him.

So enough about gleaming hot coals and Zeke’s evil legos, back to the point — you already get what I mean. Levi might seem totally grumpy on the outside, but for sure is a devoted man, a caliber as always. He takes all of your presents to heart and is unbelieving as to why he’d be deserving of so much. You prove a point using the gifts as regularly as possible on his body. Where he can feel every bit of your fondness of him. And remember it with muscle memory. Oh shit, this soap does smell so good. As anything on him, who are we kidding.

Dousing Levi with all your attention is the best thing ever. He feels great relaxing with you, and his face softens up. He’s looking at you with a tiny smile in response to you whispering sweet things to him, all while you’re using the sponge on his legs, the chest, and ever-tense back that can definitely use some alleviation. „Thank you for cleaning me“ has got to be the best thing ever to hear from Levi Ackerman. It means the entire world to him. Captain, your mommy kink is showing. His arousal increasing is a natural side effect in no time.

Recently, you’ve been slipping his cock between your breasts as well, and it’s been slowing him down a lot after an eventful mission. While at the same time making him more in the moment, he really enjoys you gradually lathering him up like that. The feeling of skin on skin is amazing. It might be something that… often crosses his mind when he trains during the day, but he can blend it out for the important things. Until you do it all over again, and he ruminates about how much you turn him on until the sun rises.

You also never do a blowjob hands-free. Why would you, anyway? His body is amazingly buff and compact, you want to hold onto those gorgeous lil’ hips and his own hands that need a fair share of holding after carrying the world. You feel him twitching on your tongue when you run either hand over his ass and abs, making sure to trace across all his most erogenous spots there. What’s more: Levi feels really protected and soothed when he feels your palms on him under the streaming water, he can’t explain it.

That's why you like doing shower handjobs just as much. I don’t have to tell you that Levi really delights in them as well and his poker face regularly cracks a bit. His eyes fixate on you, you can tell the connection and involvement. He thinks your fingertips are heavenly, a welcome change to his rugged days.

He loves how softly they tease and stimulate him with the smallest movements and subtle presses. Yes, Levi doesn’t like rough action, those are vulnerable moments. He has enough brutality elsewhere, violently jerking him off and insulting him would be entirely inappropriate and even scare him.

He’d probably brush your wrists off right away, it’d be so uncomfortable in the silence of the evening. A tender chain of kisses on the nose tip, chin, collar bone, and especially forehead gets him going a lot more. The more chaste and doting the kiss, the more he melts on the inside.

His anxiety baseline goes down, and he feels like he can let you in. However you guide him and however you choose to indulge him with your lips, Levi is on board, quietly enjoying. Since it’s something that he’s still feeling so new to, leaving you the active role comes naturally.

Stroking him with a deep pace, carefully brushing your lips against his to give him goosebumps — Levi definitely grows into that. In those moments, he really feels taken care of, in safe hands, hands that will stay with him. He’s gonna be surprised just how good something like this feels many times. And be overwhelmed by pleasure to the point where it almost frightens him, he didn’t have that a lot until now.

The satisfaction of a spotless table simply does not compare. Just so you know: He will either be dead silent or mumble under his breath nonstop. That he is okay with you touching him below the belt and even take him in your mouth tells you how much Levi trusts you, how much he knows you love him, and how meticulously he’s already scrubbed and shaved himself beforehand. Yes, the sheer preparation. He puts a lot of work into his body. He couldn’t stand you becoming dirty.

That’s also why the shower is the place oral goes down. And even there, he uses like ten cleaning products to double rinse the stall and himself before and after. Mind you. He sees you eating healthy, brushing your teeth well. Your lips are very beautiful and a masterpiece of nature to him. So it’s not you who he thinks is dirty. Levi is pretty damn paranoid about his own skin and hygiene. If only he would think about himself the way he thinks of your body.

He feels like he has to earn it, be acceptable, and prepare himself endlessly to enjoy touch. Even then, he thinks he must be ugly and revolting. You have to respect him fussing about it rather than forcing him to cut down on his routines. You don’t criticize his perfectionism and see the motivation behind it. So instead, you reassure Levi your own way.

The more he sees you having fun and enjoying his body, the more accepted, confident, and clean he feels. Most people would like to see their partner play up the enthusiasm obviously (unless you have a ‚hiding his amazement’ emo boy kink, which is exactly why you like Levi don’t cha), but it’s particularly meaningful to Levi. Guess why he looks up to Armin’s mentality, and Hange is one of the few people who truly vibe with Levi.

She’s easily amused, dedicated, swooning, excited, and constantly eager. Levi does appreciate a bit of zeal in someone. If you’re a little ardent about touching him, it’ll give his esteem a boost he’s long needed, oh god. Nobody has the guts to praise this guy like that, even if he’s so extremely good-looking. Don’t let him off the hook there. Give him feedback, you’ll be surprised how much it resonates.

It’s already apparent to yourself how keen you are being touchy with him, hell, you’re so in love. Still, it’s a good idea to give him an idea how stoked you are. He doesn’t like it fast and brutally raw without a second thought, but passionate is a whole other debate. A simple „Levi, stay like this, let me do it“ or „Levi, you smell so good“ works wonders. Say what you think and his ease will set in. And I don’t have to tell you that you won’t look like sex is a chore anyway. With Levi, that’s an honor and a pleasure.

That he puts his faith in you and gives you his time is already a massive deal and goes against everything we know of him, what he’s used to, and how his avoidant personality works, being so ridden with losses. And it’s all because of how much you desire and approach him. That’s what it comes down to.

Even if he’d suffer decades from yearning, he’d not go out of his way to kickstart something, never ever. He’d feel like he’d cause you so much trouble. You wanting him so badly and treating his body like a treasure on the other hand changes his mind.

It proves him wrong all the way. There is still time to enjoy love, the chance is now. Anything else would plague Levi with solitude and self-pity all over again. And the feeling of missing you around in his rooms. Two teacups on the table until he grows old and grey are his ideal of a good life, after all. He will open himself to your emotional and physical presence, realizing how touch-starved he is, and how much it improves his life to have someone to kiss and lay down next to at night.

The even breath at the back of his neck gives him a sense of finally someone sticking around with him side by side, even if he’s gone during the day. It feels good and right to be wanted by you, and nuzzling his face into your cotton dress. Your commitment gives him the little smiles and the silver lining he’s been searching for. He can’t label that feeling, but it’s joy of life and humankind, more than just a willingness for it. He would stay forever pained and bitter if he wouldn’t invite it in now, and you won’t waste that chance with being silent.

You’re attracted to everything about him, tell him, make him aware. The voice, the hair, the mannerisms, his height, his abilities, his mind, his care for others, the posture, how soft his cheeks are, the list is endless. Levi won’t miss how much he’s your type at some point. Which gives him a lot of ease, comfort. You show him that his inferiority complex was an entire smokescreen in his mind.

He fucking deserves to be called handsome. And by the way — you can lust over him as much as you want when he’s made that time window for your couple stuff. It’s good if you make it as obvious as possible for him. Which is hard to hide anyway. You’ve been masturbating over Levi just sitting there sternly writing something. And he’s like why, and you’re like, it’s you! Look at you!

Levi does want you to touch his skin all over but it’s always sore. And he remains insecure on many days. So he only has particular comfortable spots in the first place. Since hardly anybody dares to touch him, and even if he pats someone’s shoulder nobody would ever be courageous enough to reciprocate, you would feel a bit like a lab scientist. Silently theorizing over him at first even if you really don’t have to. Other people say they’d rather run towards a titan than expose themselves to Levi’s moods, swords, and barking tone after trying to caress him in any way.

News flash, Levi has had such terrible moods since forever because there’s no affection coming to him from anywhere just because people decided he might not need it. And no, he won’t yell at you for touching. He finds it very sweet of you instead. Touching Levi always creates an occasion that will float around in his head for the entire day, that’s guaranteed. He sees how someone goes out of their way and cares for his well-being. He might not like it like standing in the middle of the whole corps, but anywhere else is fair game, at home anyway.

The pressure of dealing with threats he can manage to a degree, and he has lord how many coping strategies. The lack of love he cannot. Big difference that everybody seems to confuse. On top of how he has to be unrelenting in his position because battlefield and the Yeagers being a pain. Most people — except maybe Armin — see that as a closedness to touching altogether.

The whole world seemingly can't intuit Levi’s craving of gentleness behind the arguably pretty convincing armor, but still. It seems like only a few souls ever think about the Levi that sits down on his bed in the evening completely depleted. You have to make it clear to yourself and him that it’s obviously a one-dimensional way of looking at Levi Ackerman and not good for him.

Which has covertly shaped how he interacts with others in return like a vicious spiral, which is why he blames solely himself for his depravation. And, how severe and untouchable the circumstances made his character. Yes, Levi despises himself for being inaccessible and unable to change it on top, added to how it happened to him over the years.

Which he had pretty much zero influence on being basically at the gunpoint of life. It’s what you hate seeing the most and comfort him about with brewing tea. It definitely comes back tenfold, Levi won’t take it for granted when you brush out his hair and speak soothingly to him in the evening. „I don’t care, those are all reasons why you’re the apple of my eye“ seems to be what makes Levi’s heart a little mushy in particular.

He is very preoccupied with blame at the start of your relationship. Levi is torn apart by daily guilt and a constantly looming perception of failure to show an opening to his heart. He also crumbles under how the majority of people don’t take him seriously, overreact, or fear he snaps back into soldier mode — he doesn’t — when he does show affection.

That you gaze behind his reputation and touch him without prejudice is the most important thing to him. You can ignore his mad and gloomy expression, Paradis has carved it into his face for half an eternity (the other half is for you and him when this is over). It doesn’t mean he’s angry on the inside about you. The causes for his madness are way elsewhere, knowing his early story it goes without saying. What made Levi callous and broken-hearted are things very opposite to you.

Those who only see and enjoy his fighting personality probably want him as their poster boy, people who are reflected enough to bother with the idea of a private, cuddling Levi are the only truly caring ones. Because private Levi needs that physical and emotional connection the most. Patting his cadets on their heads is only a little, albeit meaningful moment. The teacup is still half-empty regardless if you wanna think of it in those terms.

Because he can only do so much in terms of initiative — which already shocks people to the point of paralysis, which ruins the moment since he assumes it’s not appreciated then — and it’s only one-sided. Giving isn’t fully making him happy even if it’s his only option given how most people perceive him.

The teacup only fills to the brim if Levi can let go for like half an hour getting some good ole kitty on your lap treatment. He silently lays there and enjoys your hand rubbing at the back of his neck. He looks genuinely peaceful that way. His hand palms gently at your thigh and knee, and rests there all tranquil while he ruminates about his day and how lucky he is to have you.

The whole ‚theorzing rather than going for it‘ thing stems from you listening to those people a bit too much at the beginning. Instead of asking Levi directly about touch, and to be fair: Not a single human being has done that yet, you try to figure him out at a distance. Which is also a good thing though.

You learn about many Levi habits others would overlook, misinterpret, or don’t think have any meaning. The more you learn about him, the more understanding you become, the more protective you will be, the less he will avoid intimacy. Because Levi really doesn’t want to shy away, but often his body has too much memory in it to be instantly receptive. So it rather starts with the mind, then.

The irony is. Levi rejecting bonds with others as not to have them weigh heavy on his mind when fighting will only make it worse. You make a statement to him that if he fully immerses himself in what you have, he can fight better and actually be without those godforsaken regrets he’s always talking about. That’s why when you’re having sex, you make him look in your eyes and kiss their lids, and wrap your legs around him very firmly because Levi has to know he’s deeply yours.

Hugs, the same thing. You squeeze the last curse out of him every time and tell him to hold you tight as well. You do have to tell him twice. Just because Levi is the strongest man in history, doesn’t mean he embraces very roughly. In fact, Levi is not used to this at all. Even more irony. Paradis’ ever-swearing, most badass titan killer with the physical excellence of a hundred acrobats can’t execute the simple act of putting his arms around you in a normal, casual way.

The why is the harder thing to talk about. Last time he got proper, truly loving hugs was way over 20 years ago. From Kuchel, during a time where he was too young to remember these things long-term. Let that sink in. It confuses him when he does it and even more so when others do. Kissing Historia’s hand even as a light official gesture was already completely unusual for him and a first time.

Levi doesn’t go beyond what he sees others doing in that regard. No extra miles, just imitating. Now think of him with something as big a deal as embracing his lover for minutes. He lets his arms just hang there and you gotta make him learn how to intertwine fingers or how to press his palms on your back. You’re the one holding him tight there, while Levi’s mind and stare go blank, he’s even more speechless and perplexed after confronting his uncle back then.

I’m not kidding. You have to ask Levi to be forthcoming with those things as well, it simply does not occur to him, and he’s unsure about everything there is to it. What a loveless world this guy is in. If it already frustrates you to see him struggle, imagine how deprived he must be. One of his inner blocks is, Levi has major jealousy of guys who are what he thinks a better hugging height. It’s obviously the other way around to anybody who’d be in love with Levi.

Of course he has the best hugging height by far. What’s not to like? He’s ideal. But in his perspective, imagine all these people above him wrapping around each other in moments of enthusiasm, shoulder-level on shoulder-level, or only with slight differences. And when it comes to him, it feels awkward because they feel strange bending down only for him and Armin.

And that’s probably the issue. Because it’s much better not to bend and try and intertwine, but just have Levi bury his face into your winter coat without a hassle. You don’t have to be perfectly chest to chest to make it work. Besides… romantic hugs are always a bit different. And, you invite Levi to do exactly that with you. Since Levi’s pet peeve is politeness, you’ll also have to show him the difference between mere courtesy and love, he hasn’t fully learned it either.

But just so you know. Levi is not a naive baby or raging bull in a china shop once he has given his love to someone. He observes well, adapts well. When it’s heartfelt, when it’s the right moment, it comes out almost by surprise, he’s feeling it and he will respond to you. With serenity and intent.

If there’s someone who can be unpretentious with physicality, that’s him. He just has to transfer that to romantic gestures and Levi will be the perfect lover after some time. He’ll end up like, „Eh, so what. We do this hugging thing!“ — Hilarious. Levi, knowing his battle tactics, does have a sort of innate courage to approach bodies: This time, it’s about someone he wants to give pleasure and gratitude to, though. Which will feel very different.

And you’re a lady he’s all whipped for, that changes everything. He might sort of try to lean at the wall next to you, to murmur about you kissing him after eating cake so he’s full of crumbs „and now I have to dust it all off again, hmph“, but he is not prepared for another kiss and you tickling him pinned against the wall (he’s not ticklish, but you still love it, and Levi has a thing for you being all over him despite his stoic face).

So yeah, Levi will be super grumpy and do the „Oi oi!“ thing, but also turn around so you won’t see the blush. Man, is he embarrassed. He will try to waddle away awkwardly to do paperwork, but no chance if you tug him back by the sleeve, dust off his shirt from crumbs, and squeeze his cheeks into a perfect Levi snoot. I’m telling you, he has a nice pouty face.

He might assume that you’re out of your mind because nobody has done that with him yet, but once you tell him that you just wanna look at him because every day might be the last, he sees the point of your antics. Merely saying you kiss him just because won’t make sense to the captain, it’s gotta have a purpose for the future.

So, you will tell him to always remember what your soothing lips do on him before he draws the blade tomorrow, and that he has plenty of filthy crumbs to come home to. „I think that’s right by what we’ve seen today“ is what he’ll admit, and carries you off to the bed to get grinding because all that stuff made him kinda turned on. Or rather, you grind, Levi on the other hand gets flustered. He complains about you being a tease at length since he’s having a huge she-pinned-me-to-the-wall boner.

You sit on his face to take it even further and as his favorite treat, end of discussion, your goddess is here mister. Geez, you’ll make him a hot mess. That dick won’t go soft anytime soon. You’ll talk to him about when his face is already ruined with cake crumbs, he has nothing to lose, gotta clean up anyway. The grumbling noise from below tells you that the argument is a good one. For good measure, you palm at his trousers to see his legs react and his voice suddenly hitch. Ah, it’s a wonderful day.

Levi knows a thing or two about holding his breath correctly, but what he likes the most is that he feels perfectly sandwiched between thigh Rose and thigh Maria. Yeah, he does consider them his personal comfort walls and hopes they’ll always be there. Congruently, Levi wraps his arms around them, in fact it’s locking rather than wrapping, and you’re like I see wow he’s serious.

On goes his tongue lapping away between your labia pretty much incessantly. The arousal is so intense, you have to breathe in yourself. Oh shit, Levi is gonna try to finish you off, shots fired. Not fast, but insisting. He does not bother with you panting pretty damn hard whatsoever. He’s calling people like that, but Levi might be the real brat all along.

Fair enough, he currently doesn’t hear anything, which he also loves the idea of. All day, people everywhere are talking nonsense, and now he gets to enjoy perfect silence. His ears are small, they’re easy to cover with thighs. He just goes on and on and gets you past lord how many brinks with a heated buildup.

There are a lot of evil things Mister Zeke has said and committed, but by far the most offending thing he has yet insinuated is that Levi is not popular with the ladies. Blasphemy, treason, outrage, éclat, trickery, criminal offense, international slander, the most grueling case of fake news since the horse left the building, and no, Jean is not meant. With those oral skills, any lady interested in him would get a permanently bleeding nose and something else permanently wet as you can personally attest to.

If Paradis would even remotely know what he can do in bed (and they would if Connie told them, he lives next door), even more people would run down his house than they already do to get a piece of him. Jesus Christ, the Ackerstamina. But I mean. People are probably suspecting it.

How can you not move like a god in bed if you can bend yourself into any Pythagorean shape mid-air. Him being a fighter also gives him experience with managing energy when you have sex, I’m not kidding. Levi can even handle you thrusting right back on his tongue, and even your jokes about how he’s getting the cream to his tea now.

Levi is already kind of dripping in juice. His fingers are sweaty, this time it’s something on his face and hands he prefers though. He won’t wipe it off just yet. So you take on the task to put a condom on him — kind of expensive, mysteriously imported, gotta make every one count my friend — and have Levi take you from behind to soil the bedsheets completely at this point.

Levi lets all the leaking happen, of course he notices, and yet he’s too focused on you gripping his cock hard all the way. So much for walls. Levi has to surrender to the thought of you squeezing him in any way you fancy at this point. That doesn’t just include the face, that much he learned. His cock is gonna fall off, you tighten up so much and make him squirm, Levi’s all blissed out.

He can’t handle your ass either. He just stares like the Founding Titan invented a brand new method to hypnotize the Ackermans or something. Although. Why’d you need to come up with something, though? People they love completely enthrall them already.

If we know something by now, it's that every Ackerman gets completely fucked in the head out of the blue and sent to another dimension when they’re with the love of their life, no hypnotizing device needed. Levi is clasping his teeth for his dear life back there. People asking him if he’s gone mad he’d answer ‚maybe‘, but if you asked him if this made him lose it he would admit it.

Since he doesn’t know what to do with his hands again, you ask him to place them at your waist. „Properly, now slide in, Levi.“ — He takes his time for the first few thrusts, grunts, but gets the hang of it, in fact he’s a pro in the making. All that vertical maneuvering can turn into horizontal maneuvering very quickly. Levi feels so strange and so good at the same time, it’s overwhelming. How can something he thought would be so dirty be this amazing?

And since this position allows him to penetrate you even deeper, Levi gets the full experience of being inside of you times two. The wet noise already turns him on, his body feels so warmed up, and he feels really shocked he’s doing this. Although his face won’t show, it’ll be concentrated as before. On the inside, Levi is losing it.

He can’t get enough of your body and how you tell him what to do, Levi will be driving it home in no time. You’re gonna have your jaw dropped by how lusty he can get yourself, but also love how he’s really breaking a sweat just because of your hard grip. Who would have thought. 14-meter class titans got nothing on you. Levi’s entire neck and chest is glazed over. You call him out on it, all you’re gonna get is a little ‚tch, that’s your fault, woman‘. I mean of course it is. He’s literally at your mercy. I told you he’s hilarious.

Little did you know that Levi will straight-up ignore his sweatiness and just continue, one heartbeat at a time, to really fill you out and make you feel good. Can you imagine. Levi dedicating like 20 minutes to make sweet love to you doggystyle.

He has a good feeling for keeping you just on the verge of cumming. He even reaches around to press two fingers into your clit after five minutes of figuring out his angles. You didn’t expect this at all. It’s as if Levi can read your mind going „but his hands are gonna get really messy, why?“ — he just goes on rubbing and says, deadpan: „Miss, do I look like I care.“

Some dirty things in the world are just there to annoy him. They’re not existing to make his life easier. And toilet humor-related things: We know Levi’s stance on that. Wet pussy on the other hand: Surprise. He thinks of it very differently. Levi is pretty caught off guard by the fact that you loving and adoring him is the reason you’re leaking so much.

It sinks in (um, literally) that you’re all drippy because you really want him inside. Not to mention that he constantly realizes just how attracted to him you are. Your desire for him, that’s Ackerman kryptonite. Levi doesn’t miss your eyes, nope. That motherfucker is a damn good face reader.

And— How warmed up your body feels in his hands, how you’re breathing. How you’re telling him exactly how to tilt to hit the good spots. How you’re sucking in air when he does just that. How you sound, grip the pillow, the sheets. Your goosebumps all over your legs. How your lips part. How you wait for every thrust. The way you tell him how good it is. Your pulse. Your own sweaty back, letting his hands on your waist slip and slide a little with the rhythm.

How he’s struggling not to moan his soul out and chokes back. How you’re softly moving to glide off, he’s gonna lose his mind. How much you’re enjoying him and how cute you tell him he is. Whatever you’d ask of him, he’s so ready to fulfill it. You having the absolute hots for Levi is probably gonna preoccupy him for the whole night while you’re sleeping and he sits in the chair.

He’s been shooting grumpy cat level eye daggers with extra Ackerpoison at the corps couples for walking around showing any signs of this. Making all those lovey-dovey faces or going to the back of the barn together. Levi has chased them with his favored broom to whoop-diddly-doop those horndog soldiers back on track, swirling his weapon of choice around to send a sweeping cloud of dust after them.

Whereas now… he has to deal with the fact that he really loves all that horny stuff. Cognitive dissonance 101 is striking him out of nowhere. I mean he’d not fuck in the barn, that one is truly disgustingly shittily bastardly filthy or however he’d word it, but you get the gist. He caught feelings and caught pleasure — and that’s such a good thing.

His problem is, Levi wouldn’t know how to fawn right back at you. Except saying „good job“ like he’d praise a cadet, but he decides that’s not something to say during sex. He’s very right about that indeed. So instead: He will always reply to you accordingly and with Levi-typical honesty.

If you say you love how he kisses your neck from behind, he will tell you he’s enjoying it as well because damn he loves that spot indeed (titans can tell you a story about it… Levi has such a neck fixation, that fucker). And: Letting actions speak the loudest with him. He’s a practical guy. Levi’s hands can to the most complicated reverse grips and all that crazy human Beyblade shit. Getting you off at his fingertips is gonna be his easiest exercise ever once he gets into it.

He doesn’t even do it to show off at this point. Levi is just that kind of a sex machine and eager to please, not to mention god, is he obedient and a giver in disguise. If Levi were offered the most luxurious, expensive tea available versus your breasts to suck on for a week given he’s free of titan duty… that cup is gonna turn cold. He loves the skinship and he loves giving you a fuckton of orgasms, as many as you like and as many he has time for.

Self-explanatory, this is something he will not feel one bit of regret about. Hours touching you is the farthest from wasting time to Levi. The less he holds back with his love, the more secure things become. He doesn’t feel the misery he thought he’d run into, nor does it feel like a reckless act that’s only something feeble.

The new soap every other week on his table alone reminds him you’re here to stay and like his every quirk, and make this a private thing rather than something to parade around. You never lied saying „Levi, you’re mine.“ He does wrap his head around the fact that all of this is happening with time.

Levi finds your relationship meaningful because it gives him feelings and exactly that emotional harbor he never had before, and he gifts you the reverence of your lifetime since Levi doesn’t half-ass anything. You reassured and guided him so much, he looks up to that, it breaks down his prejudice against loving more and more. That’s how you’ll feel intimate in all kinds of ways for very intense hours he can spare to make the most out of it.

From the light touch at his arm to making out until the candles burn down. And if you tell Levi to sell the deal and dedicate his heart, how can he not take that as a serious order. He has to be guarded to put his guard down, and that’s what you can offer him, and he will create something lasting out of it. Promise is promise to him, we all know.

RELATED: sub!levi hc (tea shop au) | life after war (levi’s happy end)

multifandom mlist | levi writings on ao3

1K notes · View notes

stutterfly · 4 years ago

Text

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.

#smutcentralnet #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #bts fluff #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 4 years ago

Text

You Can Hear It In The Silence

Summary: Sneaking around can be fun, but sometimes the silence is just too quiet, or falling in love with your best friend.

Pairing: Spencer x Fem Reader (SMUT) MINORS DNI

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Smut Minors DNI (It’s smut, nothing kinky but very romantic and soft) oral (both receiving), kissing, lovebites and tame scratching, penetrative sex, unprotected sex in a committed relationship(like last time, let me know if I missed anything)

Author’s Note: Minors please DNI, I have a lot of other fluff pieces that are totally acceptable for you guys to read. I hope that this isn’t too schmaltzy because that just gives me agita. This is based off You are In Love by Taylor Swift and maybe a little bit of Dress

You Can Hear It In The Silence

It’s a blurry line, going from best friends to dating. There’s nothing like playing that dangerous game of stolen glances and surreptitious touches in a dark room. Eyes ranking over figures decked out in soft cardigans and tweed blazers or black dress pants and silk blouses, desperately wanting to see more, touch more, taste more. The senses could only sated for so long before the desire for more bubbles to the surface.

Across the table, Spencer watches as Y/N sips the red wine JJ brought over. It’s hard to not watch her; to not completely hone in on the way her eyes are light with laughter, or the way her hair cascades down her shoulder, blending into the dark green color of her dress. Spencer kills himself trying to not look at her because he knows if he does, he’s done. Or rather, he knows that if he lets himself love her openly, he’ll only end up hurting themselves. So, he sits there, in Derek’s backyard trying to pretend that he’s not staring at Y/N. The only thought that comforts him is holding on to the idea that Y/N is doing the same thing. He supposes that’s what happens to relationships that blossom from the shadows of secrecy. In their attempts to not hurt others, they end up almost destroying themselves.

He decides to pretend to find Garica’s cuckoo clock fascinating. He stares at the wacky colored birds and swinging arms entirely too long. In the corner of his eye Spencer watches the next couple of moments unfold. JJ and Garcia drunkenly bounce over to Y/N; they put their arms around her in a fit of giggles and smiles. Garcia’s arm extends around JJ’s neck and she lets out a loud announcement for a “Selfie” or rather what Spencer can only assume is a photograph of the three of them. The phone, even though Spencer does have some disdain for the invention, sure does serve its purpose. In all the light rays bouncing around and the blinding flash, pure magic happens. Spencer is aware that it makes him sound like a total sap, but he’s jealous of the phone. He’s jealous that his eidetic memory may only allow him to remember the Y/N’s notes in the margins of her case file or the annual “Happy Birthday, Genius” on a Hallmark card once a year. What he would give to just be able to capture her in the light of company, not hanging on to fleeting memories in the shadows.

Lost in his thoughts, Spencer does not notice an unusually drunk Unit Chief wandering over to the empty chair next to him. All of his awkwardness, Spencer is not sure if he should acknowledge his drunken boss or stop staring at his secret girlfriend. It’s at time like these that Spencer resorts to reciting Crime and Punishment or 100 Years of Solitude either seem ironically appropriate.

“Reid,” Hotch says, leans in close, far too close for the usual uptight and business-like Aaron Hotchner that Spencer has grown to know.

“Hotch?” Spencer answers, his voice laced with trepidation and anxiety.

“You gotta stop staring at Y/L/N. You’re gonna rat on yourselves if you don’t stop staring at her like that,” Hotch tells him, his breath might smell like whiskey, but his eyes tell Spencer that he’s a lot more sober than he seems.

“Like what?” Spencer counters, choosing to play dumb at best as he could, or at least just slightly clueless.

“That doesn’t work on me, Reid. You should stop looking at her like you love her,”

Spencer looks at his boss, at Y/N, and back at his drink. Was he seriously that transparent?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Hotch. Y/N and I are-”

“Spence! Spencer!,” Y/N shouts as she practically runs over to where Spencer sits with Hotch, watching the rest of the team.

It’s like Hotch isn’t even there anymore, it’s like no one is even there. God, it might sound sappy, but Spencer doesn’t care anymore. It’s going to kill him playing it like he doesn’t care about Y/N, especially considering he’s doing a mediocre job.

“I have a really bad headache, Spence. And I need you to take me home,” Y/N asks him, and Spencer notices an eager glint in her eyes that tells him all he needs to know.

“Keep this between us please, Hotch? Just until we figure it out,” Spencer almost pleads to Hotch who answers with a dismissive wave. He leaves them there to figure out their plans to sneak out of Garcia’s undetected.

“Hotch knows? Of course you know,” Y/N says with a roll of her eyes and a quick wink at Spencer, whose growing embarrassment from the situation is only second to his excitement at the night to come.

“Spence, go say goodbye for me? I’m going to head to your car. You really gotta sell that I’m feeling sick,” Y/N tells him, standing a little too close and dipping her hand a little too low on Spencer’s waist for this to be a friendly gesture to any of their friends that might pass by. She takes a peak around the room and reaches her hand into Spencer’s pocket. He gives her a startled glance, but they both know that the thrill of sneaking around like this is kind of worth it.

As Y/N ducks out of the room, Spencer makes his way to where Emily, JJ, Garcia, and Derek sit at the kitchen table taking shots of a clear liquid Spencer thinks is tequila. Great, Spencer thinks. Him and his secret girlfriend, who as far as the team knows is his best friend, have to sneak out of Garica’s place in front of a pile of loud drunks. Spencer feels his phone buzz, altering him that there is a very impatient Y/N waiting in the car for him

“Uh, Garcia, Y/N’s got a really bad headache. I think it’s an onset of one of her migraines that she gets from red wine,” Spencer lies through his teeth, completely terrified from the way Emily glares at him. It’s like she can see right through him.

“So you’re taking her home?” Derek asks, speeding along the process and for that Spencer considers himself forever grateful.

“Yeah, you know we are neighbors after all,” Spencer reasons.

The awkward silence in the kitchen is only interrupted by JJ’s quiet humming to the song that plays in the background. Derek and Emily share a knowing glance as Penelope starts pouring the next round of shots.

“I’ll see you guys on Monday, Y/N is waiting for me in the car,” Spencer says without a further glance to his very perceptive colleagues.

“You go take care of Y/N, Pretty Boy!” Derek yells as Spencer walks out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him, perhaps a little too eagerly.

When Spencer gets to his car, he stops himself before opening the door. In the light from the lamppost, Spencer can see his reflection in the back window of his car. He runs a hand through his hair and attempts to fix the crookedness of his tie. Smiling to himself, Spencer gets into the driver’s seat of his car and is greeted by Y/N, who even in the dark makes him feel alive.

“Hey,” he offers nervously. Even though they’ve been together loads of times, there is a tingle of intimidation that settles in his heart everytime she looks at him.

Never the one to shy down from a confrontation, Y/N leans in and places her hand gracefully on Spencer’s neck and her face looms close to his ear. Her voice is low and seductive and Spencer swears he can feel himself melt at the feeling of her being this close and him able to touch her. He brings his hands up to rest, one on her upper thigh, placed bravely under the slip of her silk dress, and the other draws circles around her elbow..

“Spencer, I need you to drive us home,” Y/N tells him a voice that Spencer knows he could never deny.

He doesn’t answer her, because the silence speaks for itself. They can hear all they need to know in the silence. The quiet way that their bodies seem to just gravitate to each other. Spencer’s hand cups Y/N’s thigh and her fingers graze the back of Spencer’s neck. It’s those quiet touches that tell the other what they are too afraid to say aloud.

The quietness settles between them even as they pull into the parking spot. It’s like they’re dance partners, completely a routine of sneaking in the shadows effortlessly. Or like they’re actors in a play, pretending that they’re not dying to play the role in reality. It’s a dangerous game that they play. But all of that is forgotten, pushed to the side as Spencer opens the door and the curtain rises.

Y/N initiates the kiss, pushing Spencer down on the couch. She straddles his waist, her silky green dress spills over her thighs and Spencer is in awe of how the color contrasts against her bare skin. He’s not an artist, but looking at her he’s sure he has laid his eyes on the most beautiful being he’s ever seen. He might not believe in magic, it’s all just science and mind tricks, but he’s nothing but transfixed at the women sitting in his lap.

“Spencer, please get these clothes off,” Y/N commands in a voice that gives away how badly she wants him.

“Wait your turn, Y/N” Spencer says in a teasing tone that brings out Y/N’s sly smile.

“Then do something!” Y/N shouts, getting even more impatient than she was in the car.

“You’re so beautiful like this, I-I mean you’re always so beautiful, but you’re just so-” Spencer stammers over his words, and the only thing he’s sure of is that his insecurity is the biggest turn off. But Y/N continues to surprise him each and everyday, and tonight is no less.

“Slow down, baby. It’s just me. There’s no need to go so fast right now. We have all night,” Y/N soothes, craning down her neck to plant wet kisses down Spencer’s neck. She’s probably leaving marks, Spencer thinks, but his desire to be seen as her’s outweighs the teasing from Morgan on Monday.

The fact that it’s Y/N perched in his lap, kissing down his neck and wiggling around in a way that she can feel everything does nothing to fend off the adrenaline that Spencer’s high off of.

“I need to see your face,” Spencer says holding her by the shoulders. He reaches around her as she leans back to unzip her dress. She stands so it falls to the ground in a pool of dark green fabric. Her body is out in the open to him and Spencer’s flushed face must be on fire by now.

“I need to see your face, Spencer,” Y/N says in a way that Spencer knows that he can’t disobey.

There’s that silence again. That loud silence, filled with lines of unsaid love poems and quiet love songs. The silence that says the perfect things that Y/N deserves to hear, but Spencer is too scared to say. Three months too soon to say, I love you, Spencer tells himself. His mind spins so fast that he feels guilty for neglecting the naked woman standing before him.

“If you’re gonna fuck me Spence, we’re gonna do it in a bed. I love you and all but this couch is not going to handle me when I get a hold of you,” Y/N says as she runs off into his bedroom, leaving Spencer dumbfounded in her wake.

Spencer swallows down his fears and anxieties. He sheds his clothes off during his walk to the bedroom. Y/N lies down on his bed and Spencer won’t let the silence speak for him this time.

“How are you this perfect, Y/N?” Spencer asks as he crawls in between Y/N’s legs. He rests his hands on her upper thighs and looks at her like expects her to answer his question. Spencer dips his fingers down to the place Y/N wants him the most. In the low light from Spencer’s lamp he can see how his fingers glisten.

“You took too long at Penny’s Spence, I had to start without you,” Y/N explains, a slight flush to her cheeks reminds Spencer that she too is just as affected by him as he is by her.

“You touched yourself in my car?” Spencer asks pressing a firm kiss on each side of Y/N hip bones. He dances his long fingers up to her stomach, where her own hands sit as if she’s shielding this part from him.

“Yeah,” Y/N tells him, slightly breathless from the small kisses Spencer places on her stomach and back down to the softest part of her inner thighs. He tells himself that he’s got to slow himself down before he loses it at the site Y/N wriggling and moaning at his smallest touches.

“I left you a present in your glove compartment, Spence,”

“Huh, who knew I had such a naughty girl,” Spencer says with an unfamiliar bravery in his voice. Unsurprisingly, Y/N picks up on this and decides to see how far she can take it.

“I have needs, Spencer. Do you think you can take care of them?”

Spencer doesn’t respond, but ducks his head down to drag his tongue across her clit, feeling how wet she is. He refuses to break eye contact and realizes how obsessed he would get if she’d let him do this for the rest of his life. Spencer’s eyes carefully watch how Y/N’s facial expressions morph in intense pleasure. It’s like a science experiment. When he plunges his tongue into her, she closes her eyes. But when he blows softly on her inner thighs then leaves hot, wet kisses her fingers come up to latch onto his scalp. He peers at her and waits for the way she moans when he slips one, then two fingers in her. He curls them up in such a way that he knows drives her crazy.

“Oh my God, Spencer! Please,” Y/N cries, twisting in the sheets. He continues at the pace he’s set, chasing the blissful feeling of her coming undone because of him. The moments leading up to her release, Y/N tears her hand away from Spencer’s head and connects her palm into his. Holding her hand, Spencer whispers praises and presses small kisses into her pussy.

“Come here and kiss me now, baby. I need you,” Y/N whispers, grasping onto whatever parts of Spencer she could touch. Her fingers move to cup his face and she holds him like he’s made of glass. In between the soft sheets and even softer touches, Spencer knows what it’s like to feel precious. Y/N cranes her head forward to attack Spencer’s neck with kisses. She relishes in the soft and supple skin of his neck. Once again, Spencer finds himself not caring that she’s going to leave marks.

“How are you this perfect, Spencer?” Y/N asks Spencer, who for the first time in his life does not have an answer for a question.

He closes his and lets himself float around in the fuzzy feeling in his brain. All he can focus on is Y/N’s mouth. The way her praises make him believe in forever and the way her kisses litter his cheeks, eyes, chest.

“You’re the perfect one, Y/N. I don’t even compare,” Spencer says as he watches Y/N twist underneath him and somehow maneuver herself so he lies beneath her.

“None of that, Spencer” She tells him sharply. Y/N drags her nails down Spencer’s chest, not leaving scratches, just light discoloration. Her head and mouth is dangerously close to where his hardened cock lays leaking between his legs.

She grasps around the base and just gingerly touches him that Spencer is sure he’s going to be blinded from the pleasure. Suddenly he feels almost self conscious. His anxiety is not unknown to Y/N, who lays a comforting hand in his, mirroring her earlier motion.

“You don’t have to Y/N. I mean if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to think just because I’m your boyfriend and I did it for you-” Spencer rushes out, terrified of what Y/N’s reaction will be.

“Look at me, Spencer. Do you want me to suck your cock, baby? Look at me,” Y/N says in a voice that Spencer doesn’t recognize and doesn’t dare ignore.

“Yes,” he breathes out, his voice shakes as he feels Y/N’s mouth take in his tip. He hisses at the sensation. The smallest movements set him on fire. Spencer’s large hands come up to hover over Y/N’s shoulder blades.

“Don’t be quiet, baby. I want to hear you,” Y/N says before she deepens her hold of. She releases him to glide her younger down the side, sending shockwaves of pure pleasure in Spencer’s entire being.

“You like that, Spencer. You like my mouth on your cock, baby?” Y/N eggs him on.

Even though he’s lost the ability to speak, Spencer’s moans bounce around the room. He knows he’s a whimpering mess below Y/N, but he’s chasing the feeling of release shamelessly.

“Y/N, Y/N. Baby, you gotta stop. Or I’m gonna cum right now,” Spencer chants, tightening his grip on Y/N’s hand. He forces himself to calm down to focus on Y/N, but it’s a little difficult when all Y/N is focusing on him.

Spencer sat up, his back against the headboard, and he pulled Y/N forward so she rested in his lap. She grins up at him, and Spencer can feel his heart squeeze at the look. She’s going to be the death of him, but at least he’ll die a happy man.

Much to Y/N’s pleasure, Spencer lets out a lewd moan as she grinds down, pressing her wet pussy to his throbbing cock. He feels a little ridiculous getting so worked up and she’s not even inside him yet.

“Please, Y/N. I need you, I’m not going to last long,” Spencer utters. He says her name like a prayer, it’s a hymn to her ears.

“I got you, Spence,” she tells him, sheathing his length into her.

Spencer pulls Y/N in closer so that their chests are flush together. Among the chorus of moans and mumbles of praise, Spencer reaches down to hold Y/N’s hand. He’s not a believer in soulmates. He was sure that he’d never find his match. Never find the one person who’d share his dreams and become his dream. But sitting there, Spencer cannot deny that he’s tethered to Y/N. Their hands link together and mouths refuse to let go, searching for any exposed skin.

“Spencer,” Y/N groans, leaning her forehead into his. She looks into his eyes and Spencer dares to wonder if her eyes are glassy because of him. It’s magic how someone like her can make a believer, a dreamer out of a man afraid of living.

Spencer closes his eyes in pure ecstasy. Y/N sucks along the tender skin of his chest, causing him to flush at her ministrations. He can feel her tighten inside him, so he snakes his fingers down to stroke her clit, exciting moans and more fervent kisses along his chest and up to his ear.

“Just like that, Spence. You’re so perfect my sweet boy,”

“Y/N, cum on me, cum on me baby,” Spencer cries, finally able to let go as he feels himself come undone underneath Y/N.

Spencer’s whimpers and constant moans set Y/N over the edge. She mewled into Spencer’s shoulder, kissing and nipping the sensitive skin. As her orgasm rakes over her body, Y/N tugs on Spencer’s hair, suddenly quite happy he’s keeping it almost shoulder length.

Both of them feel their bodies come back to life, their breathing steadies and their hearts seem to beat a little bit slower. Gone were the array of moans. Gone was the burning desire to chase their release. Gone was the sound of praise. All that stands between Spencer and Y/N is the silence. The silence that says quite enough for them.

The silence that’s braver than Spencer.

He’s quiet as Y/N flops to his side, entirely spent and tired from the company of friends and strenuous activities that just transpired.

“I know what you’re thinking, Spence” She offers, turning to her side to look at him. He gives her a straight faced smile, unsure of how to approach the subject. He knows that she knows what he’s thinking about, sometimes even before he’s thinking about it.

“I meant it, Spencer. I really do love you,” Y/N professes, finally breaking the silence. Spencer swallows as his eyes scan the girl before him.

“You’re my best friend, Y/N,” Spencer says quietly, and suddenly realizes that it’s probably not what a girl who just confessed her love for you wants to hear. But he knows that Y/N understands-- she understands him.

“What I mean is, I want midnight coffee nights with you. I want small talk and deep conversations and everything in between,” Spencer says quickly. “I want you in secret Y/N, but I want you in public too,”

Spencer watches his confession settle into Y/N’s face. He’s scared for the rejection, for the daylight to break on his dream.

“I’ve waited for you to say that for so long, Spence,” She says, leaning in to close the gap between their naked bodies. Spencer pulls her in to rest his chin on top of Y/N’s head. It’s comforting being there, feeling her heartbeat in the tune of his own. He feels safe, wrapped up around in Y/N.

They’re sweaty and smell like sex, but Spencer doesn’t care. His hair is messy and he’s exhausted, but Spencer doesn’t care. His neck and chest are littered with lovebites and marks, but Spencer doesn’t care. After months of running around in the shadows, months of letting the unsaid say what he desperately wants to say, months of being patient but dying with anticipation, Spencer doesn’t care. Spencer doesn’t care because on Monday morning, Y/N won’t drop his hand when they walk into the bullpen.

THANK YOU FOR READING!!

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