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kennahjune · 1 year ago

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Part 2 of my s3 Steddie :D

Tag list: @anaibis @marklee-blackmore @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @swimmingbirdrunningrock @clumsiluni @just-a-tiny-void @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @mugloversonly @skyewaytohell @lololol-1234 @conversationswithamillennial @maya-custodios-dionach @nuggies4life @luthienstormblessed @blu3stars @samsoble @finntheehumaneater @thatonebirthstone @bird-with-pencils @swiftielouie55 @queenie-ofthe-void @paintsplatteredandimperfect @monsterloverforhire @krazyperson @literatelobster @jaytriesstuff @hippieg1rl420 @beawritingbooks @nightoffury @irregular-child @colidamae @stevieboyscoffee @martinskis-lydias

Holy shit!! I’ve never made a tag list before?? Thank you guys sm for being so into it!! And without further ado;

…

Steve woke up with the initial thought of “what the fuck”. So he could automatically assume his day was going to go great.

Out of his room, down the hall, down the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen is where he finds Jonathan and— oddly enough— Robin.

Steve was used to finding Jonathan with him after one of his “episodes”. Usually he or Nancy will help him through it the best they can, laying with him or sitting with him wherever he is.

The idea of Robin in his house doesn’t even occur to Steve as weird until Robin says, “Sorry for the intrusion, uh… you really freaking worried me, man.”

Steve blinked— then, without taking his eyes off of Robin, asked Jonathan “Where did I have my episode at last night?”

Jonathan had the decency to look sheepish about it. “Uh— pfsshh, you had it at work, Steve.”

“And how bad was it?” He looked at Jonathan.

“You collapsed and had to be carried to the break room to rest. And the fact that you don’t seem to remember much of anything is also saying a lot.”

Steve stood there, thinking long and hard about yesterdays events.

“I remember Billy coming in and saying something about Max. Then he said something about Dustin that pissed me off. I don’t know. After that… who the hell?..”

Munson.

Holy shit.

Jonathan must’ve clocked the moment of realization cause he walked over and patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, man.”

Steve groaned and hurried his face in his hands. “That’s so embarrassing!” Was his muffled complaint. Robin— the asshole— had the nerve to snort at him.

“Hush, Buckley! Ugh I hate this.”

Jonathan was rubbing his back now, barely hiding his own snickers and laughs. “Come on—“

“I have to go,” Steve said quickly and went to turn around to leave.

“Where are you going? This is your house!” Robin retorted.

“I have to go apologize!”

Jonathan snagged Steve’s wrist and prevented him from going any further. “Go sit down, Steve. You can apologize later.”

Steve begrudgingly obliged, sitting at the small kitchen table that was usually used for his dads drinking. He crossed his arms and put his head down. He’d fucked up his vision again when he spun around too fast to leave. Jonathan sighed and came up to rub his back again. Physical touch helped Steve a lot during times like these. Especially during the vertigo.

Robin took the seat next to him. “So, two concussions? If you were having such a bad time why didn’t you just call in?”

“Cause I’m constantly late to work and the only reason I haven’t been fired and kicked on my ass is because you keep covering for me so I figured I had to return the favor,” he replied in one breath.

They were silent for a couple of minutes, just basking the each others presence. Until Jonathan stopped rubbing Steve’s back, let his hand rest there, and then patted between his shoulder blades twice before going over to the pantry.

“You need to eat something before you do anything. Robin can you get him a cup of water, please?”

Robin nodded and stood to get it. Steve groaned. “I can get my own water, Jon.” but he’d made no attempts to move from his seat. Jonathan muttered something about toast.

“Considering the fact that yesterday you just about passed out on your feet and how a few minutes ago you nearly fell over just by turning too fast, I’d like to differ.”

Steve huffed, knowing he was right. He heard the toaster start and glass was set down gently in front of him. He lifted his head and eyed the water.

“I didn’t poison the damn thing, dingus.” Robin tapped her fingers on the table.

Steve snorted and finally took the glass. He was done with it in seconds.

“Christ,” Robin muttered while refilling it for him.

When Steve was just about done eating his toast and downing another cup of water his house phone went off.

“I’ve got it.” Jonathan stood.

Steve shrugged and stood himself— slowly this time— to put his dishes away. Robin remained seated and watched him.

Jonathan huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Steve furrowed his eyebrows and walked over, trying to hear the conversation.

“Yeah— no I’ve got it, don’t worry. I love you to. Bye.” Jonathan hung up and sighed heavily.

“You alright?” Steve leaned on the wall next to him.

“Yep. Great. That was my mom, by the way. And apparently the kids are all on the loose in Forest Hills, looking for Eddie.”

What the fuck?

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah.”

“So…” Robin stood. “I’m going with Steve?”

…

Max was curious. They all were. Just who the hell was Eddie Munson? Steve had never mentioned him before, but from the looks of it both Jonathan and Steve knew him.

Will had wanted to ask Nancy about him, saying how Jonathan said they all went to school together, but Mike refused to ask Nancy about any of this other than asking about migraines.

So they were on their own.

Max took her skateboard and the boys took their bikes (Will riding with Mike) and the four of them made their way to the trailer park.

Max was running on borrowed time, telling Billy that she was going over to the Byers’. And if that’s not where she is in the next 2-3 hours when he comes to pick her up then she’s done for.

But it’s fine. They figure out where Eddie Munson lives in no time. It’s not a very big trailer park, and “Eddie Munson” seems to be a pretty recognizable name. A nice old lady named Miss. Bottomette pointed them right down the street from her own trailer.

The four of them made their way over, dumping their bikes (and skateboard) in the yard— not bothering with kickstands. Max and Mike shoved their way in front of the other two, both going to knock at the same time.

Mike gently shoved Max to the side when the door opened, now all three of them being behind him. Standing at the door wasn’t Eddie Munson, unless he’d aged 50 years in past 24 hours. The new man was a lot older, and was just a bit taller than Mike. He looked the four of them up and down before leaning on the doorway and crossing his arms.

“What can I help you kids with?”

Will gulped. He didn’t like adults and especially not ones with heavy western accents that look like they’d kill him if he so much as breathed wrong.

“Um— we’re just looking for an uh, an Eddie Munson, sir,” Max tagged on from behind Mike. Will reached over subtly and grabbed someone’s hand, he thinks it’s was Lucas’. Why the hell was this guy so scary?

The man had a gleam in his— something like amusement. It kind of pissed Mike off but he knew better than to get pissy with an adult he’d just met. Especially with how Will was reacting to him.

“Well,” the man chuckled, “I’m not sure what you kids need with ‘im, but he’s not here right now. So why don’t you go back home, huh?”

He went to close the door but Mike spoke up. “Wait! Please— we uh— we really, really need to talk to him. Even if it’s just for a couple of seconds!”

“If he’s not here do you know where he is?” asked Lucas.

The man studied them all closely, his eyes raking over them each individually. As if they were threats. Mike nearly scoffed to himself.

Finally the man gave in and sighed. “Why do you wanna see Ed so bad?”

Max tapped her foot really hard on the wooden porch. When everyone jumped and looked at her she put her hands up. “Sorry! Got excited.”

Lucas spoke up this time. “We, um— wanna thank him? And ask him a few questions I guess. He helped out one of our friends yesterday and we really really just want to talk to him, please. Sir.” he tagged on the “sir” like an after thought.

In the next few moments, they found themselves piling into the very small, very cramped trailer living room.

“I’m Wayne, by the way. Wayne Munson, Eddie’s uncle.” he finally introduced himself. He raised his eyebrow at them. Oh yeah, they have to introduce themselves as well.

“Oh! Um— I’m Lucas. Lucas Sinclair.”

“Er— Max Mayfield.” she crossed her arms.

“Mike Wheeler.”

“Um, uh—“ Will grabbed Mikes hand “—Will Byers.”

Mr. Munson’s eyes seemed to study Will extra hard. Mike gripped his hand and squeezed to let him know he was there. Even Max and Lucas moved in slightly closer to Will. They didn’t understand why this guy seemed to come off so mean.

“Hey Uncle Wayne! What’s taking you so long at the door, man?” The man of the hour showed his face at the end of a small hallway. His brain seemed to short circuit at the sight of all the kids in his very small and very cramped living room.

“Um, hi?” Lucas greeted awkwardly.

Eddie leisurely made his way into the room with him. “Aren’t you Harrington’s kids from last night?”

“We’re not his kids,” Mike grumbled under his breath. But he couldn’t deny the spike of joy that came with the title.

Mr. Munson looked at Eddie like he’d lost his mind. “Harrington’s kids?” he put extra emphasis on “Harrington”, as if it was actually so weird.

Max rolled her eyes.

“Yes, Harrington’s kids,” she said under her breath with heavy sarcasm.

Lucas shot her a glare and she grunted.

“Well—“ Eddie clapped his hands “—what can I help you kids with?”

Mike and Max eyed each other, trying to decide who was going to start. Turns out; it was Will.

“We wanted to talk to you about yesterday,” he spoke up timidly. Mike squeezed his hand.

“Ok,” Eddie accepted. “Hit me. What’s up?”

Lucas was the first this time. “Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

…

When Wayne went to get the door Eddie didn’t think it’d take 20 minutes. And he also didn’t think that going out to check on him would lead him to finding four little kids in his living room. More specifically Steve Harrington’s kids.

He should’ve known it was to be bombarded with questions.

“Why were you so willing to help Steve?”

Well shit.

“Cause I’ve had an undying crush on him since he first came to the high school in his freshman year and I wasn’t going to turn up a chance to help him out and maybe talk to him and then I realized it was actually a lot worse than I thought so I stuck around to make sure he was ok.”

Yeah absolutely not.

“Because he needed help. The guy couldn’t even stand on his own.”

Lucas eyed him but handed it over to Max.

“Why were you so chill about his migraine? I mean you said it yourself: he could barely stand on his own. Most people would’ve left the moment someone else got there if not before.”

Little Red held a strong point.

“Cause I knew he needed help. Simple as that.”

No. Not “simple as that”.

“Did you know him in high school? Back when he was dating Nancy?” Little Wheeler asked.

Now this; this was a conversation he really didn’t want to have. He sighed, maybe a little harsher than intended, and answered “Yes. I knew him in high school and when he was dating your sister.”

At this point Wayne had left to the kitchen. But Eddie knew he was listening in, making sure they didn’t cross any lines.

“So if you knew him in high school, when he was an asshole— don’t kick me he was!— then why were you so nice? Cause most people he talks to from high school seem to hate his guts.”

“Jonathan doesn’t hate his guts!”

��I said “most people”, Will!”

Well golly damn they hold a lot of good points today. Before he got to answering the question there was another knock on the door. Max flinched and moved closer to Lucas.

“I got it,” Wayne said as he made his way over.

When he opened the door Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, and Jonathan Byers were all there on the porch. Wayne looked back and forth between the two groups before sighing and saying, “Why don’t we all step outside? Trailer ain’t big enough for all of ya.”

So that’s where they all went, outside on the front yard. Wayne sat on the porch steps while Eddie hung back.

“What the hell was the point in this?” Asked Steve, scolding the kids.

“We just wanted to ask him some questions!” defended Lucas. Will hung back by Jonathan but nodded his head.

“Questions.” Steve deadpanned.

Max huffed and Steve’s glare turned on her. She crossed her arms and looked away, seeming to close in on herself.

Steve sighed and pinched his nose, turning around and grunting before turning back around. “Ok, here’s the game plan.” he clapped his hands. “You four—“ he pointed at each of the kids “— are going to apologize to Mr. Munson and Eddie.”

The kids all started to grumble and protest.

“AND THEN—“ he continued loudly over them, making them shut up “—you are going to all go home to your own houses. We will talk about this tomorrow when I don’t want to fucking strangle you.”

“I can’t.” Max huffed.

“Cant what?” Steve asked.

“Go home. Especially not with you. I told Billy I’d be at the Byers’ and he’s expecting me to be there in the next half hour.”

Steve’s entire face dropped and he rubbed a hand over his face. “Max.”

She folded her arms and looked down. Steve sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “Ok, it’s fine. Change of plans; we’re all going to the Byers’! You four go apologize now and then load your bikes and board into my car as best you can.”

Eddie stood through their half-assed apologies while Steve stood back conversing with Jonathan. When the kids made their move to get their bikes and skateboard Eddie moved over to stand next to Steve. While the kids loitered around for a moment. Steve turned on him when he noticed his approach.

“What were they bothering you about that was so important Max lied to Billy?”

Eddie smirked and answered “oh you know; questions.”

Steve groaned.

They stood in silence while Steve watched Jonathan quietly scold Mike and Max for something.

“You can use my van.”

“What?”

“My van. To bring their bikes? There’s no way in hell they’re all fitting into your’s or Byers’s car.”

Steve watched as Mike and Lucas argued about the bikes while Max and Will talked behind them. He sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face in agitation. Steve placed his hands on his hips again and hit the inside of his cheek. Eddie watched him closely, finally noticing the ruffled hair and the plain gray t-shirt and way to short basketball shorts.

“Did you come over here straight from bed?” he asked.

Steve looked at him, squinting in the sun. “Yeah? What of it?”

“Dude it’s like 2pm.”

“Migraines knock me out.” he shrugged.

Another moment of silence went by until Steve sighed. “If you really don’t mind, letting us use your van would be great.”

Eddie watched Mike’s bike fall out for the fourth time and nodded. Just in time for Mike and Max to both call out in a whiny tone “STEEEEVEEEE!!”

Steve huffed and whined back “WHAAAAAT?” Eddie snickered.

“The bikes aren’t going to fit!” Lucas yelled, throwing his bike on the yard.

“Yeah I realized that. Thankfully, Eddie’s very nice and has offered to let us use his van.”

Mike and Lucas’ eyes lit up. “Can we—“

“Absolutely not.” Steve shut them down. “You four are going to ride with Jonathan and Robin back to the Byers’ while I run around with Eddie to drop off your bikes.”

Eddie nodded, not knowing what else to do.

Mike huffed.

“Steve,” Max called out quietly. “You’re not dropping mine off, right?”

Steve’s face softened and he smiled at her exasperatedly. “No, Max, you can toss your board in Jon’s trunk.”

She nodded and looked hesitant to walk away. The boys had already gotten in the car, and with one look around Max gave in and quickly hugged Steve. He patted her back and ruffled her hair and then she ran off to the car.

With final goodbyes and a promise to Robin to just call in sick next time, Steve and Eddie were left alone, Wayne going inside to take a nap.

Steve clapped Eddie on the shoulder. “Looks like it’s just me and you now, Munson.”

Oh boy.

…

Guess I am gonna need that part three 😭😭

I’ll take tags for part 3 if you guys want :)

Part 3 :)

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bangtanficsforyou · 3 months ago

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Hello, Love! (JJK)- 03

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don’t know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister’s fiance wasn’t it.

Word count: 6.2K

Warning: for this chapter; there's some heavy mentions of drugs. Except, for that, there's so much happening 😩.

Fun fact: the picture in the middle is actually a screenshot of a scene from the movie this series is based upon 🤭

Series Masterlist

“Any update?”

“Sir, we haven’t heard anything back yet.”

Jungkook sighs, having expected that answer. “Keep trying to contact them, and as soon as you hear anything back from them, let me know.”

He emphasizes the word anything because at this point, he genuinely believes rejection would be better than being kept hanging. At least, a rejection would help him have a practical understanding of the scenario and remaining options.

“And how are the preparations for the party going?”

“Sir, we have arranged most of the things, if you like you can pay us a visit and inspect things yourself,” his manager replies.

“Yeah, maybe after my meeting with Mr. Han, I’ll drop by at the hotel,” Jungkook nods to himself, thinking that, that will be the ideal way to go about things. “Remember, everything should be perfect. If everything goes as planned, I’m sure Riya will be impressed.”

“Don’t worry sir, we will look after it.”

You wake up to the sound of your alarm.

You look around, taking in the room, and notice the soft blankets that are currently wrapped around you. For a moment, your mind feels blurry, having no recollection of last night whatsoever. However, once the memories come back to you, you relax into the soft mattress and sigh at the comfort.

Your eyes start drifting again and you feel this weird sense of giddiness at the thought of having slept so comfortably after ages. Unfortunately, you are stopped from going back to the world of dreams by a constant dribbling of a ball against the floor.

You frown and raise your head slightly to figure out what is causing the noise. From the slight space that the open door leaves, you see a young kid playing with a small ball.

The sight causes you to jolt awake.

You quickly grab your handbag, which was thankfully lying right next to your bedside. You shuffle through your bag and heave a huge sigh of relief upon finding the item you were looking for; a golf sized ball.

It’s safe, you think to yourself and put the ball back in its place.

Knowing that the drowsiness you were trying to lean into, is gone, you decide that it would be smart to utilize the time to reply to any texts or e-mails you might have received.

However, your face drops when you see the notification of several missed calls on your home screen. Your entire body freezes in panic, and you feel an overwhelming sense of fear take over your body.

You gulp and press the ‘call back’ button.

You don’t think that the call goes past even one ring before it’s picked up on the other side.

A very panicked and worried voice greets you. “Y/N, yǒu gēngxīn ma?” Y/N, any update?

You shake your head, “hái méiyǒu.” Not yet.

“Qǐng jǐn nǐ suǒ néng. Xùnsù de. Fǒuzé yīqiè dūhuì huǐ diào.” Please do whatever you can. Quickly. Or else everything will get ruined

“Wǒ zhèngzài jìnlì. Bié dānxīn, wǒ huì xiǎng bànfǎ de.” I'm trying my best. Don't worry, I'll figure something out.

As you cut the call, you’re left with nothing but a pile of emotions that you have no idea how to deal with. You rub your temples and try to take a few deep breaths in hopes that this feeling of being paralyzed would pass.

However, you give up within less than a minute, and at the very next moment, you find yourself shuffling through your bag again.

Open app

bangtanficsforyou

Hello, Love! (JJK)-03

New

4 days ago

Genre: fluff, angst, probable smut (we don’t know yet lololol)

Rating: 18+

Summary: You had a plan when you returned home, seven years later. However, falling in love with your sister’s fiance wasn’t it.

Word count: 6.2K

Warning: for this chapter; there's some heavy mentions of drugs. Except, for that, there's so much happening 😩.

Fun fact: the picture in the middle is actually a screenshot of a scene from the movie this series is based upon 🤭

“Any update?”

“Sir, we haven’t heard anything back yet.”

Jungkook sighs, having expected that answer. “Keep trying to contact them, and as soon as you hear anything back from them, let me know.”

“And how are the preparations for the party going?”

“Sir, we have arranged most of the things, if you like you can pay us a visit and inspect things yourself,” his manager replies.

“Don’t worry sir, we will look after it.”

You wake up to the sound of your alarm.

You frown and raise your head slightly to figure out what is causing the noise. From the slight space that the open door leaves, you see a young kid playing with a small ball.

The sight causes you to jolt awake.

It’s safe, you think to yourself and put the ball back in its place.

Knowing that the drowsiness you were trying to lean into, is gone, you decide that it would be smart to utilize the time to reply to any texts or e-mails you might have received.

However, your face drops when you see the notification of several missed calls on your home screen. Your entire body freezes in panic, and you feel an overwhelming sense of fear take over your body.

You gulp and press the ‘call back’ button.

You don’t think that the call goes past even one ring before it’s picked up on the other side.

A very panicked and worried voice greets you. “Y/N, yǒu gēngxīn ma?” Y/N, any update?

You shake your head, “hái méiyǒu.” Not yet.

“Qǐng jǐn nǐ suǒ néng. Xùnsù de. Fǒuzé yīqiè dūhuì huǐ diào.” Please do whatever you can. Quickly. Or else everything will get ruined

“Wǒ zhèngzài jìnlì. Bié dānxīn, wǒ huì xiǎng bànfǎ de.” I'm trying my best. Don't worry, I'll figure something out.

However, you give up within less than a minute, and at the very next moment, you find yourself shuffling through your bag again.

“Auntie, I only drink black tea,” one of Jungkook’s distant cousins declines politely.

Jungkook’s aunt only smiles in response and moves to the next person, offering them the milk tea.

“I am sorry, but I will have coffee,” comes the response.

Another polite smile from Shweta.

“I only drink black coffee.”

“Oh,” she responds and again moves on to the next person who so happens to be Jimin.

“I will have—“

“Shut up and drink it,” Jimin’s words are cut off immediately.

Jimin without a single protest picks up a cup and starts sipping on the tea. No matter what age, he knows better than to disobey his mother when she is annoyed.

“What’s wrong with a simple milk tea?” she mumbles to herself on her way back to the kitchen. “Back in our day,—“

Her words come to a halt when a loud bang of a door opening with more force than required, resonates through the entire living room. The sound catches everyone’s attention and the usually loud room goes quiet.

And then you walk in through the door.

You walk in without any awareness of the eyes on you and make your way straight to the dining table. Pulling out a chair, you take a seat. You grab a bottle of water and instead of pouring yourself a glass, you start drinking directly and empty the bottle.

Then, you look at the breakfast that has been arranged on the table and take two slices of bread and start spreading butter on them. Once done you look around for the salt pot and find it resting on the table, away from your reach.

“Salt.” You speak the one word sentence to the old lady that has the container right next to her.

Everyone in the room breaks out of their trance of watching you and albeit a little weirded out, go back to what they were doing.

The old lady passes you the salt pot and she too, returns back to the conversation she was having with Jungkook’s mother (who is also sitting at the same table, a few chiars away) before your wild card entry.

“It is too hot today to go out shopping. Can we not go some other day?”

“I know, but there are absolutely no chances of the weather getting better any time soon,” Jungkook’s mother replies, sighing at the thought of having to step out in this heat. “Plus, we don’t have much time.The wedding is right around the corner.”

The older lady hums in understanding. “But we should visit a few shops first just to compare the prices and quality of clothes.”

“Don’t worry about that,” reassures Jungkook’s mother. “We will go to Mr. Roy’s showroom in Amy Avenue. They will give us everything at discounted rates and we won’t have to worry about the quality at all.”

“But who will take us there? The place is pretty far!”

“What a coincidence!” You speak up suddenly, mid-chew. “I’m also going there. You guys can come with me.”

Another round of silence falls in the room.

“But dear, who are you?”

You look up at the old lady upon hearing her question.

First blink.

Second blink.

Third blink.

“Who are you?” You shoot her question back, instead of answering her.

The lady frowns, finding your tone rude. “I am Jimin’s grandmother.”

“I am Jimin’s friend.”

Jimin’s eyes almost pop out of his sockets at your sudden declaration. This is the first time he is getting to know about your existence. How can you be his friend?

Jimin’s mother steps out of the kitchen quickly at the mention of her son’s name. “You are Jimin’s friend? He never mentioned you before.”

You simply shrug as if to convey that it is not your business to wonder about the strangeness of Jimin not mentioning you before.

“So where do you stay?” Aunt Shweta queries further, finding her curiosity spike at the information of her son having a girl friend she has never heard of before.

“People’s Republic of China.”

“Make sure—“ Jungkook’s sentence is cut off mid way when the sound of your voice reaches his ears. “I’ll call you later.” He promptly cuts the call and rushes out of his room.

“Ch-China?” Shweta is perplexed, thinking she is hearing things wrong. “Jimin has never stepped out of this city.”

Jimin looks around in confusion having no clue whatsoever as to what he’s supposed to do. It is then that he sees Jungkook rushing out of his room. The moment his eyes lock with Jungkook’s, Jungkook puts a finger on his mouth asking Jimin to stay quiet and play along.

Jimin glares at Jungkook, realizing that he has somehow become the scapegoat, again.

“How did you two meet?” This time the question is aimed at Jimin, as his mother seems to be totally confused by this revelation. Since, when did his son start making girl friends from other countries? And how?

Jimin gulps, knowing he will have to face the MID (mother-investigation-department) later. “O-online?”

Jimin’s words come out more as a question than as an answer and this only heightens his mother’s confusion.

“Online?” She asks, reflecting her son’s unsurety.

Jimin looks at Jungkook who is thankfully hidden from Shweta’s view and as Jungkook nods, he looks back at his mother. “Yes, online.”

Shweta looks at Jimin with a look that clearly says that he has got a lot of explaining to do. She then looks back at you to ask you something, but decides otherwise upon realizing that you seem entirely focused on eating your breakfast.

And that marks the end of the conversation.

Everything resumes back to normal. Shweta heads back to the kitchen. Jungkook heaves a sigh of relief. Jimin convinces himself he shouldn’t murder Jungkook right before his wedding.

However, unbeknownst to everyone, two people in particular have taken a certain interest in you.

One, Tae Oh, Jungkook’s maternal cousin.

Two, Jeon Baek Hyeon, Jungook’s father.

There are a total of three cars. The one in which you’re currently seated in has you in the passenger seat, with Tae Oh and Jungkook’s mother in the middle row.

Jungkook takes a peek inside the car and sees that his mother is on the phone with someone while Tae Oh is listening to some music with his earbuds plugged in. He takes this opportunity to speak to you.

“Listen,” he whispers. “Please don’t let them know who you are.”

You look at him, over the rim of your sunglasses, which rest on the bridge of your nose. “Who am I?”

Jungkook looks at you as if the answer to that question should be obvious. “You’re Riya’s sister.”

You nod at him and with a click of a button, pull the windows of your seat up.

“I-Wha?—”, Jungkook knocks on the window, asking you to pull it back down.

You look at Jungkook and then look at the driver who is currently in the process of turning the engine on. Then you look back at Jungkook and shoot him a two-finger salute as a way of bidding him goodbye as the car takes off.

Jungkook stares at the now moving car and wonders as to what turn of events will this shopping day-out take.

In the fifteen minutes that the car has been on the road, you have finished an entire bottle of water. A fact that Jungkook’s mother finds concerning.

“Dear, are you okay?” she asks wondering if you’re drinking so much water because you’re not feeling well. With the sunglasses that you have on, she cannot even read your expressions properly.

You look at her through the rearview mirror. “I’m as okay as a squirrel with an acorn stash for winter.”

Jungkook’s mother is confused by your choice of words but decides that you must be intending to convey that you’re alright. She nods, although the worried frown on her face refuses to go away.

Tae Oh on the other hand, keeps stealing glances at you, through the rearview mirror. You’re the prettiest girl he has ever seen. When he realizes that you’re humming some song to yourself, he decides it’s his time to shine.

He clears his throat. “Auntie, you know right I was about to be the next big music idol?”

“Is it so?” Jungkook’s mother queries. As someone who is trained in classical music, she finds herself interested in this conversation.

“Yes,” Tae Oh confirms. “Unfortunately, the judges didn’t have the depth to understand my style of singing.”

“What song did you sing?” You ask, now looking back at him through the rearview.

“Wannabe,” he replies, feeling shy now that you’re directly speaking to him.

“By spice girls?”

“Yes,” he replies, sounding proud and confident about his ong choice. “Would you like a demo?”

“Sure.”

The clearing of his throat is the only warning Jungkook’s mother gets.

"Ha ha ha ha ha—YO, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!"

He starts aggressively beatboxing, but it’s not beatboxing so much as random noises that sound like a train derailing. He keeps going anyway, hands waving like he's orchestrating a symphony.

Suddenly, you join and start "beatboxing" along—by loudly spitting sounds that vaguely resemble a wet cat sneezing."Pfffsh—tch-tch—PFFFssh-tch-tch!"

Tae Oh, not realizing the absolute disaster unfolding, presses on, getting way too into the song. He sings the next line, stomping his foot like he’s a rockstar who just broke out his big hit. "So tell me what you want, what you really, really want!"

You are nodding along aggressively. "I’ll tell you what I want—what I really, really want!"

You both are absolutely butchering the rhythm, singing in completely different beats. Tae Oh continues dramatically, as if he’s hitting the high note of a power ballad. You are adding extra "ha’s" where they don’t belong. "I WANNA, (ha), I WANNA, (ha), I WANNA, (ha)!"

You try to match him but totally miss. "PFFFT—ha ha—PFFT—zigazig ahhhhh!"

Jungkook’s mother watches in utter disbelief, frozen in shock. Nothing could have ever prepared her for this. It's like a car wash you just have to see through to the end.

You both try to keep the song going, but at this point, you both are so off-key and off-beat that it’s devolved into a chaotic mix of random noises and misplaced beats.

"If you wanna be my lover—YOU GOTTA GET WITH MY FRIENDS!"

“Because—“

"FRIENDSHIP NEVER ENDS!" You both belt out, together.

“Nice try.” You give Tae Oh a nod of approval as the duet comes to an end, who smiles back shyly at you.

Jungkook’s mother reminds herself to close her mouth which was wide open during the entirety of your performance.

On a brighter side, at least now she’s assured that you aren’t feeling sick.

Jungkook sits in a sleek, modern reception area, fidgeting with a notepad in his hands. Dressed in a crisp suit, his leg bounces nervously as he mentally revises his speech for the upcoming meeting. His lips move slightly as he murmurs the rehearsed lines to himself.

"Right. I just need to be clear, confident... just ask directly, no big deal..."

The door to the office opens. A tall, authoritative man, Mr. Han, steps in, his eyes scanning the room before landing on Jungkook. Jungkook stands, straightening his jacket and putting on his best business smile.

"Jungkook, I presume?"

Jungkook bows slightly. "Yes, sir. It’s an honour to meet you."

They exchange firm handshakes. Jungkook gestures toward the chairs, and they both sit down. Just as Mr. Han opens his mouth to begin, Jungkook’s phone buzzes loudly. He glances at it – and realizes it's Riya. His brow furrows. He hesitates, then looks at Mr. Han.

"Sir, if you could please excuse me for a minute."

"Oh yes, absolutely."

Jungkook receives the call and speaks in a hushed tone. "Hey, Riya, I’m in the middle of—"

"Which guesthouse did you drop Y/N at?"

Both Riya and Jungkook speak at the same time, although somehow, Jungkook’s words get drowned out.

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard. "Uh... I brought her to my place."

A beat of stunned silence follows on the other end, as Riya waits for Jungkook to add that he's joking. When he doesn’t, she loses her cool.

"What?! You brought her home?! She’s a drug addict, Jungkook, you cannot trust her with anything!" she exclaims. "Where is she now?"

"Relax!" Jungkook speaks calmly, even though the revelation of you being a drug addict shocks him. But he can’t sound panicked, not while sitting right in front of Mr. Han. "She’s just taken my family shopping at your dad’s showroom in Amy Avenue."

Riya gasps sharply, followed by a barrage of words. "Shopping?! Jungkook, you idiot! Alpesh Uncle is at the shop today—if he sees her, we’re in serious trouble!"

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he realizes the gravity of the situation. Panic begins to creep in as he nervously rubs the back of his neck.

"Alpesh Uncle... oh no. Okay, okay, don’t worry! I’ll fix this."

"You better fix it."

He quickly ends the call, his heart racing, and looks back at Mr. Han, who’s been politely waiting. His expression has shifted from professional to slightly puzzled.

"Is everything alright?" Mr. Han asks.

"Sure, sir," Jungkook forces a tight smile, though his mind is racing. "How is Mrs. Han?"

"Mrs. Han?" Mr. Han looks perplexed by the sudden change of topic but answers anyway. "There’s some medical issue, you know, with her gall bladder. But the doctor was also wondering if it’s related to her knee—"

Jungkook nods, trying to seem interested as Mr. Han goes on.

"—there’s a lot of pus that's collected there—"

"Sir, can I meet you after two hours?" Jungkook suddenly blurts out, unable to hide the stress building inside him.

"Today? I’m sorry, Jungkook, but I’m really busy today."

"Sir, can you give me six million dollars?" Jungkook cuts to the chase, knowing why he's really there. But before Mr. Han can respond, Jungkook starts gathering his files and stands up. "I’m sorry, sir, I have to leave. It’s an emergency."

Mr. Han stares at him in utter confusion as Jungkook rushes out of the room, his footsteps echoing in the hallway.

Jungkook bursts through the hotel doors, adjusting his suit jacket as he hails a taxi. He jumps inside, running a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the chaos he's just unleashed.

The sun hangs high over Amy Avenue, casting a warm glow on the busy street. Lively storefronts line the avenue, and the air is filled with the sounds of chatter and laughter. In the midst of the hustle, is you, who leads Jungkook’s family in a single-file line, a colorful chain of chaos and utter confusion.

You stand at the front, a beacon of energy and casual confidence. Your dark hair sways as you turn back to check on the group, your hands raised to maintain the chain. The family follows your lead, though not without fair share of difficulties.

"Come on, everyone! Let’s stick together! Hold hands tight!" You shout.

Behind you, Jungkook’s family members talk animatedly among themselves. The line weaves slightly, and a few members begin to pull away from the chain.

"Hey, don’t pull so hard! I’m not made of rubber!" Aunt Young grumbles.

"Watch out! We’re going to bump into a car!" Uncle Choi says, nervously.

The street is bustling, and the noise only adds to the jovial confusion. You glance over your shoulder, your eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Just a little further! We’re almost at the showroom! You’re all doing great!"

You look at the entrance of the showroom which although is now visible, still remains a few meters away. You turn around and face your followers and address them. “You see that? That’s our destination. A few steps more and we will get there. Don’t stop now.”

You speak like a coach motivating their team on how to win a champion’s trophy.

As you all approach the entrance of the showroom, Alpesh Uncle steps out. Adjusting his glasses he squints at the screen of his mobile. “Lord knows, what happens to the tower.”

“C’mon, c’mon. Just a few steps more.” With the volume at which you’re speaking, it’s all thanks to the hustle of the market that your voice doesn’t reach Alpesh uncle.

“Hello? Hello? Is my voice audible?” Alpesh uncle speaks loudly into the phone but when he is met with silence, he removes the phone from his ear and waves it in the air in a zig-zag motion, hoping that it will catch the tower.

“Very good! Very good!” You encourage with your back facing the showroom, motioning your hands for the line to keep moving forward.

Alpesh uncle is about to go inside his showroom, having given up on trying to find the mobile tower when he spots Jungkook’s mother in the crowd. “Ah! Look who it is!” He exclaims cheerfully, and starts climbing down the small flight of stairs that connects the street to the showroom.

Now, the entire family’s attention has shifted to Alpesh uncle, the line has broken as everyone comes forward to greet him and you’re about to turn around when you feel a firm hand grip your arm and yank you with a swift tug.

Before you can react you come in contact with a hard chest and you look up to realize that it’s Jungkook, whose attention is fixed on his family and Alpesh uncle greeting each other, having totally missed your sudden disappearance.

“Let go!” You snap trying to free yourself from his grasp but his arms only tighten around you.

“Shh,” he looks at you, a sense of urgency in his eyes as he waits for Alpesh uncle to go inside along with his family. “Alpesh uncle is here and you cannot be seen by him.”

“But I need to go and talk to him,” you argue, although Jungkook pays no attention to your words even though you keep squirming in his hold. “Let me go!”

Jungkook watches as one by one everyone starts getting inside. He sees Aunt Young and aunt Shweta discussing among themselves and looking around, most likely searching for you, before they, too go inside.

It is only when he’s sure that it is safe that he releases you.

That was a close call.

Jungkook stands outside Riya's vanity van, his hands gripping the door frame as he leans in slightly. His eyes flicker to you, who sits a few feet away on a folding chair, quietly eating from a plate of food meant for the cast and crew and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of frustration. “There were full of mosquitoes there, she wasn’t eating—”

“So you could have gotten her food. What was the need for you to bring her home?” Riya argues, from where she’s currently sitting inside the van with her hairstylist brushing her hair.

“She’s your sister, Riya,” Jungkook points out as if that should make it obvious why he brought you home.

“Exactly! She’s my sister,” Riya agrees to Jungkook’s statement but refuses to acknowledge the emotion behind his words. “Just do what you’re told to do.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing there is probably no point in having this conversation. Not to mention the fact that he still remains unaware as to why you were supposed to remain hidden from Alpesh uncle. He somehow figured that no one from your family except for Riya knows about your return, but he has absolutely no idea why Alpesh uncle spotting you would have been such a big deal.

However, a shooting set is definitely not the place for that kind of conversation.

“Have you managed the funds yet?” Riya asks.

“I’m on it,” Jungkook replies, not mentioning that he left a very crucial meeting like a bride leaving the altar, right after receiving Riya’s call.

“Then please just focus on that.”

Jungkook sighs again and with a nod, takes his leave.

As he’s walking in your direction, he notices that you’re entirely focused on eating and he takes this opportunity to verify something.

He quickly changes his direction of walking and walks towards the parking lot. He unlocks his car and finds your bag lying on the passenger seat. He only has to unzip the first chain to find several small containers filled with pills.

A sick feeling spreads through his body and he quickly zips back your bag and places it exactly where it was before.

Slowly things start making sense to him.

The day when he met you at the hotel; you were completely absentminded and hardly bothered to pay heed to basic social cues. Whereas, when he drove you from the hotel back to his house, you were rather normal. You even remembered the fact that you both had met seven years ago.

Your odd behaviour could all be explained by you being under the influence of these pills.

Jungkook rubs his temples, feeling a headache surfacing.

After a few moments, he takes a deep breath, locks his car and heads back to the shooting set.

“Eat quickly we need to leave,” he takes a seat right next to where you’re sitting. However, now that he knows what he knows, it is like he has started to put the puzzle together and for some reason, a suspicion occurs in his mind when he realizes that you’re wearing your sunglasses. “Can you remove your sunglasses for a second?”

You stop eating and look up at him. “Why should I?”

“Just remove them,” Jungkook deadpans, running thin on patience.

You shrug and remove your glasses. Letting them hang from your shirt, you resume eating.

Jungkook watches you closely, and his suspicion is proven right when he notices that you’re blinking your eyes quite frequently. He does not recall this being the case when you were your normal self.

So, this fast-frequent blinking thing is a characteristic of the Y/N that comes out after popping the pills.

“Do you take drugs?” He asks you.

“Nope,” you reply, popping the ‘p’, not being phased by the question at all.

“Then what are those tablets that you take?” Jungkook refuses to back down.

You look up again, even in your high state looking slightly taken off guard. Although, nothing that derails you. “They are medicines,” you reply matter-of-factly, looking straight into his eyes.

Jungkook stares right back. “What medicines?”

“Dichlorosystrin, zincodestrin and oxidisulphide.”

“Are you ill?” he counters, trying to get you to admit that you do indeed take drugs.

“Nope.” You pop the ‘p’ again. “I feel weird sensations in my body and these pills control them.”

“What kind of sensations?”

“Sensations such as shivering, palpitating, irritability, trembling, sheepishness—”

“Just finish the food and then we will leave,” Jungkook cuts you off with much annoyance, understanding that you’re high and no matter what he says right now, you will always have an answer. You aren’t even in the right state of mind to understand the seriousness of the conversation.

You and Jungkook walk through the gates of the banquet hall of the hotel, where Jungkook is organising the surprise party for Riya. Jungkook walks a few steps ahead of you, while you follow his trail.

While Jungkook is scrolling through his phone, checking his mail, you rip open a packet of chips. The sound of which annoys Jungkook to no end.

You take a chip out and munch on it loudly. Jungkook turns around and glares at you. You almost collide with him not realising that he has stopped walking. However, upon noticing Jungkook’s glare, you look to your left and right, checking if it’s really you, he’s glaring at.

Before, you can ask him what’s wrong, he is walking again.

You don’t think much of it, resume your munching and follow Jungkook.

However, it couldn’t be more than ten steps before Jungkook is facing you again, causing your steps to halt as well.

“So you are sober now?” Jungkook snaps, unable to hold it in any longer. “Do you have any idea how many side effects those pills have?”

“There are plenty of them,” you reply, without missing a beat. “Memory loss, definitely a gain in appetite which is reduced considerably when you eat, increased thirst and if I pop in a lot of pills, my heart would race to 300 and when so much blood is being pumped, there will be nosebleeds and—“

—“and?” Jungkook waits for your next words with a bated breath, hoping you won’t say what he thinks you’re about to say.

“—and hypoglycemic shock, then coma, then death.”

Jungkook releases a breath, a mix of disbelief and sheer horror coursing through his veins. He looks at you and the look of pure calmness on your face as you say these things astonishes him to no end. How can you know about all of this in great detail and still choose to pop those pills? Most importantly, how can you speak about all of this so casually? You aren’t even high now!

“You’re addicted to those drugs,” he says, as if explaining the seriousness of the situation to you.

“Nope,” you deny. “I have formulated them 15 days ago. It takes 21 days to get addicted.”

Jungkook scoffs. “That’s what all drug addicts say,” he resumes walking, feeling undeniably frustrated that no matter your state, you refuse to take this seriously.

“I’m not a drug addict,” you mumble, voice soft and for the first time since he has met you, vulnerable. “I haven’t touched them in seven years.”

Jungkook looks back at you and some of his annoyance melts at the childlike expression on your face. He huffs and decides it’s for the best to focus on why he’s here.

“Jun!” Jungkook calls for his manager, who comes rushing towards him. “Is everything ready?”

“Almost, sir.” Yeonjun, or Jun as Jungkook likes to call him, replies.”Only the swing is missing it’s seatbelts. That will be organised by this evening. So we cannot make the swing fly yet. Except for that you can test everything out.”

Jungkook nods and stands nervously in front of the crew, his eyes darting from the large red swing (which looks like a loveseat) to the sky, where fireworks were meant to bloom on the big day. This is supposed to be a perfect dry run for Riya’s surprise, and he wants everything to go smoothly. He tugs on his shirt collar, feeling the weight of the moment and takes a seat on the two-seater swing.

“Jun, be Riya for the time being,” Jungkook pats the space next to him, motioning for Jun to take the seat.

“S-Sir, me?” Yeonjun is slightly taken off guard by his boss’ words.

“Yes you, Jun,” Jungkook confirms, with a small flicker of amusement.

Yeonjun follows his instruction and takes the seat. He crosses his legs, places his hands on his lap in a very ladylike manner and looks at Jungkook with a loving look.

“Okay, you didn’t have to go the extra mile,” Jungkook tries to seem stern but the wide grin betrays him.

Yeonjun only looks away and flips his non-existent long hair to the other side.

A loud cackle coming from you grabs both Yeonjun and Jungkook’s attention.

“Ma’am, you’re finding this very funny,” Yeonjun says with a grin of his own, breaking from his character. He also takes this as an opportunity to invite you to be in his place. “Why don’t you come and sit here?” he gets up and offers you the seat.

“There’s no—”

“Sir, it’s better this way,” Yeonjun insists. “Let the lady try.”

You look at Jungkook wondering if it’s okay with him. Only to realize that he’s also looking at you with the same look.

You put aside the chips packet and dust your hands, and make your way to the swing. The moment you’re seated Jungkook explains to the entire crew the planned sequence.

“Listen carefully, the music comes on first, then the drapes, then the flowers, fountains, then the crane will lift the swing up and finally the fireworks. Okay?”

Numerous ‘yes,sir’s are received from the crew.

“Cool. Let’s go. ‘Riya’,” Jungkook looks at you and only then does he realizes that you’re not listening to any of this. Instead you’re examining the ropes that attach the swing to the crane very carefully. “Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“We’re about to start.”

“Oh, Okay,” you nod and get ready for whatever it is that is about to happen.

Now Yeonjun takes over as he addresses the crew working under him. “First play the music,” he instructs, to which the guy inside the crane, who’s responsible for all the buttons and keeping things in sync, shoots a thumbs up.

You look around and notice the two large speakers that remain hidden from the party section and expect them to blast any second now. However, moments pass and nothing happens. You look at Jungkook who with each passing second looks more and more impatient and give him a reassuring nod.

The guy inside the crane repeatedly presses the button that is supposed to be connected to the speakers but the speakers remain dead.

Jungkook loses his patience and yells at the guy to be heard over the distance. “What is wrong? Start the music!”

At that very moment, a strange metallic groan echoes from the crane above.

“Why is the swing…?” Jungkook begins, but before he can finish, the swing lurches upwards, leaving the ground behind.

“Whoa, wait!” Jungkook yelps, one hand tightly gripping the rope of the seat as it lifts into the air. While the other instinctually comes in front of you, in a protective manner, trying to work as a makeshift belt. You do not notice that however, as you burst into laughter, your head thrown back in sheer joy.

“This wasn’t part of the plan!” Jungkook panics, eyes wide as he sees the ground getting smaller beneath them.

“This is awesome!” You exclaim between giggles, your hair flying in the breeze. “This is awesome!”

Jungkook isn’t listening. His breath quickens, as the swing refuses to be still. One moment it moves to the right. The other, it moves to the left. “Get us down!” he shouts.

Oh you don’t remember the last time you had so much fun.

Now the music starts to play.

“A little unsaid, a little undone,”

The swing rotates a complete three-sixty and you holler in excitement.

“Fleetingly it stays, in a twinkle it’s gone”

The crew starts putting a blanket underneath just in case either of you fall.

“Such a silly feeling.”

Just as Jungkook thought things couldn’t get worse, one of the drapes that is supposed to cover whoever is sitting on the swing from getting wet by the fountain, comes loose. It gets caught in the wind and wraps itself around his face. Blinded, he flailed his arms. “Help! I can’t see! I can’t see!”

“Hold still, hold still!” You say, unwrapping the cloth with care. As you peel it away, you notice the look of panic and distraught on his face. “You’re okay. Look at me. You won’t fall”

Jungkook, heart pounding, blinked rapidly, his vision clearing as your calm yet excited face came into view.

“There, better?” you query, your voice steady now.

Jungkook nods, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He leaned back into the swing, still slightly nervous but trusting your calmness. “You’re way too comfortable with this,” he mutters.

“Well yeah, I wasn’t expecting this,” you express, the laughter in your eyes contagious.

By now, although the swing is in the air, thankfully it has stopped moving.

“Well, are we getting down anytime soon?” Jungkook hollers to the crew below.

“Sir, we are trying,” comes Yeonjun’s reply. “The machine malfunctioned.”

You two hang in air in silence, both carrying two completely different moods. The quiet however gets disrupted when the fountains start, which is then followed by confetti of petals. With no drapes to cover the both of you, you two get wet.

You enjoy the flower petals falling on you, whereas Jungkook only feels cranky at his entire plan turning out to be a major disaster.

When the fireworks take off, you gasp and look behind you where the sky is lit with all sorts of beautiful colors.

The gasp catches Jungkook’s attention and he looks at you. You’re grinning wide, with your mouth parted and your eyes reflecting the fireworks. Although, he thinks the sparkle in your eyes might have everything to do with the joy you feel inside.

You notice Jungkook looking at you and can’t help but explain the rush of emotions you’re feeling. “I feel new sensations, as if fountains of cool water are breaking out underneath while fireworks are going off above, while we are swinging through it all.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” he smiles at you reluctantly. “But this whole thing is a mess. Nothing went according to plan.”

“Isn’t that the best part though?” You quip. “Had everything gone to plan, it wouldn’t have been much of a surprise. You too got a surprise, thanks to this mess.”

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth tug upwards and you can’t help but grin wider in response.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” He says but the tension in his voice has melted, replaced by something much lighter.

“Not as impossible as the chances of this being a success on the day of the party,” you say in a low voice, as if the words are not meant for Jungkook’s ears and look around innocently.

Jungkook lets out a laugh, this one free and genuine. In this moment, for some reason, the thought of all his efforts of impressing Riya, going down the drain doesn’t scare or disappoint him.

One thing he’s slowly learning about you; high or sober, you always have an answer .

A/N: *clears throat* just note the line about her mentioning this sensation about fountains of water underneath and fireworks above. Will come in handy later 🤭💓.

Also, I'm dropping my new fic "All that Sparkles" (Ceo Tae, Arranged marriage au) on my Patreon tomorrow! So if you'd like to check it out, you're most welcome 🤗❤️.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook au #Jungkook series #Jungkook ff #jeon jungkook #BTS fic #BTS au #BTS smut #BTS fluff #BTS angst #Fic:hl #Fic: hello love

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nevadancitizen · 7 months ago

Text

-> CH. 3: ANDROID AUTOPSY (OR IS IT NECROPSY?)

synopsis: you start to work on the autopsy of the ortiz android. connor tries to establish a friendly rapport with both you and gavin. but gavin is, as always, a fucking cunt.

word count: 2.4k

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

notes: connor looks so fucking funny while he's falling in the break room scene 😭😭 like i hate that he's getting hurt but his face is EMOTIONLESS LOLOLOL

HoFS taglist: @catladyhere (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask!)

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

When you walked into work ten minutes ago, you expected something to be wrong. That’s just how it goes these days, with deviants running rampant in the streets and all.

But not this. Not the deviant from last night, deactivated in his holding cell. Apparently, he rammed his own forehead into the wall and didn’t stop until he died. Thirium stains the wall, the floor, and his already-bloody uniform.

You sigh, holding a hand to your forehead. “Блять…”

“I recognize that one,” Chris mumbles as he unlocks the cell.

You slip on your bib apron and tie it in the back. “Yeah, most Americans do.”

You walk into the cell and gently put your hand on the android’s shoulder. He doesn’t move. He really is dead.

“I fucking hate this job.” You grunt as you pick him up in a bridal carry. Thirium stains your apron as he slumps into your front. “Goddamnit. I’ll slap whoever triggered the deactivation so hard they’ll remember it ‘til the first of next month.”

“Sure you will.” Chris locks the door as soon as you exit.

You huff out a light laugh. “Accompany me to the autopsy room?”

He smiles. “Anything to get out of being in Gavin’s company.”

You and Chris mostly walk in silence to the autopsy room. There’s early morning chatter and the scent of coffee floating through the air. People give you a wide berth when they see the limp android in your arms.

But the walk is short. The door before you reads ANDROID AUTOPSY ROOM. You adjust the body in your arms and press your right hand to the biometric scanner. It beeps once and the door opens.

“And this is where I get off,” Chris says.

You smile and bend at the knee, mimicking a curtsey. “Thank you for accompanying me. And if Gavin burns his tongue on hot coffee again, please! Feel free to get me right away.”

Chris laughs. “Yes, Officer!”

You laugh in kind and enter the autopsy room. The door shuts automatically behind you. Inside is a long steel table and lots of electronics – screens, wires, outlets, cords. You set the body on the table and get to work.

You flick on the power switch and the computers come alive, one by one. The screens come on and quiet music starts playing – a string piece accompanied by softly-sung Russian.

Once everything has come on, you move over the android and press just behind his ear. With a soft click, the plastic flicks open and a small port is revealed. When you open your left hand, the wires of your polymer glove snake out and plug themselves in.

The screens light up with reports on the biocomponents – percentages, damage reports, the like. Your eyes flit over the numbers, trying to decipher what was abnormal.

You unplug and the wires slither back into your glove. You sigh and start filtering through the data, finding what was important and worth noting down. You work that way for a while – looking over numbers and biocomponent data and listening to music.

After a while, you feel a buzz in your pocket. You pull out your phone, read the text that just came through, and send a quick one back.

Chris: Connor just came thru. Said it was looking for you and Hank. Sent it your way You: you sent an ANDROID to an ANDROID autopsy room?? Chris: Humans are in human autopsy rooms all the time dumbass You: true. just hope connor doesn’t freak. hank here yet? Chris: What do you think? You: axaxa you’re right ))

You look up from your phone as there’s a knock at the door. You get up and unlock it, revealing who’s behind it – and, of course, it's Connor.

“It’s nice to see you again, Officer.” He smiles. “May I come in?”

“Nice to see you, too. And, uh…” You move to the side, gesturing inside. “Yeah, sure. I know a deactivated deviant isn’t the most welcoming sight, but…”

“It’s okay.” Connor moves inside, rubbing his hands together as he observes the room. “I’ve seen plenty of them.”

“Ah.” You move back over to the computers. “I’m not sure whether to be impressed or concerned.”

“Impressed, Officer.” Connor stills in place, his eyes flitting over the computers and the numbers on them. “I’m the one who deactivated most of them.”

“Oh. Okay.” You glance over your shoulder at him – you’re not used to having someone else in your workspace. You gesture to a chair that’s tucked into a corner. “Uh, you can sit. If you want.”

Connor nods. “Thank you.”

He moves over to the chair and sits, folding his hands in his lap politely. His eyes are still on the computers, quietly watching as his LED flickers yellow and processes the data. The only sound is the soft music and your footsteps as you move between screens, noting down abnormalities.

Connor cuts the semi-silence. “Where are you from, Officer?”

You glance over at him, then back to the computers. “Chelomey, Russia. Why?”

“I want to establish a friendly rapport. It’ll be easier to work together if we know each other better,” Connor says. “I’ve heard Chelomey described as ‘the first city of the skies.’ It’s on the first successful flying platform – the Icarus, correct?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “That’s right.”

“How was that?” Connor asks. “Living there, I mean. What was it like growing up?”

“Eh.” You shrug. “Got a nice Makarov Pistol when I was ten. Never had a snow day in school – we were just above the clouds. Was surrounded by children of astrophysicists and bioengineers.”

“You say that like they’re a separate group of people,” Connor says. “What are your parent’s career paths? If it’s not too intrusive to ask.”

You turn, leaning back against the autopsy table and facing him. “Sounds unrelated, but – do you know how the Icarus Platform works?”

Connor furrows his eyebrows, his eyes flitting to the floor as his LED turns yellow and flickers. After a moment, he looks back up at you. “The engines operate on the principle of the Archimedes Screw. The propellers don’t interact with air currents, but directly with Earth’s magnetic field instead.”

You bring a hand to your mouth to stifle a laugh. “Did you just look that up?”

“No.” Connor’s gaze immediately falls to the ground. “Yes.”

You cough to hide your laughter and turn away. “Okay, okay. Don’t worry – I won’t tell anyone. I didn’t expect you to know anyway.”

Connor clears his throat. “Please, let’s return to the topic at hand.”

“Yeah, okay.” You scratch the side of your nose and smile. “The engines take up a ridiculous amount of energy, yes? So there are nuclear reactors on the platform to supply a continuous energy flow. My parents worked in the northern reactor together.”

You shrug. “Not much more to them. Named Olga and Yegor. Nice people. Doubt you’ll ever meet them.”

“True,” Connor says. “I doubt they would let an American-made android into the USSR. I also doubt that the travel ban to and from the USSR will be lifted anytime soon.”

Your head dips in a nod. “Maybe if you were manufactured back in my home. But there’s a chance that, if you were, you’d be dancing ballet in the Maya Plisetskaya Theater.”

“I feel like that’s a metaphor.” Connor’s eyebrows furrow. “But I don’t understand it.”

“It’s not.” You laugh, hiding your smile behind a hand. “There are specialized robots that dance ballet in the theater – I went once, not my style. Just a chance that, with how nimble they made you, you could’ve been a ballet bot.”

“There are robots made specifically for ballet?” Connor asks.

“Well… they’re…” You cringe a little. “Multifunctional?”

Connor shifts so that he’s sitting on the edge of his seat, his elbows on his knees and his hands together. He seems intrigued. “Multifunctional how?”

You look away and cover your mouth with a hand. You can feel your face start to warm. You really don’t want to talk to Connor about this. He obviously knows about sex and prostitution, because it might be involved in the cases he’s handling. But you don’t want to talk to him about either of them!

You bite down on the inside of your lip, hard, to dismiss wandering thoughts. (Because, honestly, you shouldn’t be wondering what his model is capable of doing! Not when he’s right there in front of you!) You swallow thickly and try to talk.

“Господи, khm…” You groan quietly. “It was also a, uh, brothel? Kinda? The clients were human, but the whores were… not.”

“Oh.” Connor looks down at his hands. He rubs them together, almost like a nervous tic. (But androids don’t have nervous tics. Do they?)

“Yeah.” You scratch your cheek, trying to ignore how warm it is. “I’m, uh… I need a coffee. And I can’t leave anyone alone in the autopsy room if they’re not authorized to be.”

“I understand.” Connor stands. “I’ve been meaning to explore the office. May I accompany you to the break room?”

You nod. You really hope he’ll continue to act like the past half minute didn’t happen.

As soon as you have all the computers in standby mode, the music paused, and your Thirium-stained apron hung up, you lead Connor out of the android autopsy room. The walk to the break room is short, and he adjusts his pace to match yours as you walk.

Internally, you really hope that Gavin isn’t there. Maybe he got hit by a car coming back from O’Mansley Donuts.

But, of course, hopes are meant to be dashed. And that dream is crushed when you hear Gavin scoff as soon as you enter the break room.

“Fuck, look at that…” he says. You tense as soon as you hear his voice. “Our friends, the plastic detective and the werewolf, are back in town!”

“Please, not today, Gavin.” You spare a glance at the poor officer that Gavin has trapped in conversation. Then, you move over to the counter to find a spare paper cup and the coffee pot.

“What? I just wanted to congratulate it on its good work last night!”

“Thank you, Detective Reed.” Connor nods politely.

You scoff under your breath and internally curse him for being programmed to be so nice. As you pour yourself some coffee, you wonder: would it really kill him to tell Gavin to fuck off?

When you turn around, hot coffee in hand, Gavin is standing a few feet away from Connor. You lean back against the counter and decide to let this play out.

“Never seen an android like you before.” Gavin looks Connor up-and-down. “What model are you?”

Connor stands, unfazed. He doesn’t even blink. “RK800. I’m a prototype.”

“A prototype!” Gavin parrots. He turns to the other officer, gesturing at Connor vaguely. “Android detective!”

He looks back to Connor – looks up at Connor. It would be funny if you weren’t so on edge.

“So machines and commies are gonna replace us all.” His eyebrows raise. “Is that it?”

Connor stays silent, just looking at Gavin.

“Hey.” Gavin clicks his tongue. “Bring me a coffee, dipshit.”

“Gavin,” you cut in, a warning unspoken in your tone. Connor blinks once and tilts his head slightly to the side.

“Get a move on!” Gavin snaps.

You set your coffee on the counter and hurry over. You put a hand out towards Gavin – again, a silent, unspoken warning.

“I’m sorry,” Connor says. “But I’m not permitted to take orders from you.”

“Oh! Oh.” Gavin cracks a wicked, sarcastic smile before driving his fist straight into Connor’s solar plexus, quick and unpredicted.

“Вот чёрт!” You immediately move to catch Connor as he almost collapses, wrapping an arm around his front and steadying him with your other. He recovers after a few moments and blinks hard before pulling himself away from you. He adjusts his tie (which, honestly, didn’t need readjusting) and sighs sharply.

“Are you okay?” You ask. You’re tempted to hold a hand out just in case he collapses again.

“Is it okay?” Gavin laughs sarcastically. He jabs a finger at Connor. “If Hank hadn’t gotten in the way yesterday, I would’ve fucked you up for disobeying a human.”

He steps backwards. “Stay outta my way. ‘Cause next time, you won’t get off so easy.” Gavin’s eyes turn from Connor to you. “Same goes for you, werewolf. If you stay in my way, I won’t fucking hesitate to trample you.”

You narrow your eyes. “Last I remember, wolves eat pigs.”

Gavin just scoffs and turns to the other officer. He exchanges a glance with her, and they both walk out together. He gives Connor a way-too-forceful shoulder-check on the way out.

You turn to retrieve your coffee from the counter, then lean back against it. “What an asshole.”

“Is Detective Reed usually like that?” Connor asks. “That… aggressive?”

“Yes.” You blow the steam off your coffee and take a sip. Way too bitter, but you don’t have any other choice regarding caffeine.

Connor moves beside you, facing the entrance of the break room. “And what did he mean when he called you werewolf?”

“There was a Russian serial killer called The Werewolf.” You look down into your coffee. “He was a cop. It spread, and now corrupt cops are just called werewolves. Gavin thinks he’s smart, calling me that, even though I’m not technically a cop.”

Connor hums. When you glance over, his LED is flickering yellow. You choose not to comment on it.

“Are you okay?” You ask. “Like, actually. Gavin punched you pretty hard.”

“Androids don’t feel pain,” Connor says. “The impact disrupted my Thirium pump for a second, but it quickly regulated itself.”

“Good.” You take a sip of coffee.

Connor turns to look at you. “Why are you concerned, Officer?”

You glance at him, then look down into your drink. “I don’t know. Just don’t need Gavin putting sticks in our wheels, that’s all. And putting you out of commission would be a major problem.”

You can see Connor still looking at you out of the corner of your eye. His eyebrows draw together a fraction of an inch, then he looks away.

You turn the other way and choke down another sip of bitter coffee.

#riptide writes 🌊#head of false security #dbh connor x reader #connor rk800 x reader #rk800 x reader #connor x reader #detroit become human #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #dbh x reader #detroit become human x reader #dbh connor x you #connor rk800 x you #rk800 x you #connor x you #dbh x you #detroit become human x you #connor rk800

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ashtonisvibing · 6 days ago

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................... hm-

omg lads it's cwimas

i feel obligated as an artist to draw at least a little something (even if it's a colored sketch) festive

and i wanna draw a fursona and leif, but i am,,,,,, indecisive-

the shortest i can leave this is 1 day, but in actuality i'm gonna leave this going until... 3pm EST (of course i'll end it sooner if i look and see that votes have pretty much stopped)

#ashton is talking #i should've given myself my own button ignore my vote on eeper #but uh- anyone wanna do a last minute vote so there isn't a three way tie #it's either that or i let fate pick between the three votes lol #i do wish i could see who voted for what #i'm shocked kibby has no votes since it's the fursona i draw the most #(NOT SAYING YOU SHOULD FEEL BAD FOR NOT VOTING FOR IT i couldn't care less lololol)

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hexgaywire · 7 months ago

Note

hello! (◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉI hope you're having a great day! i wanted to ask if it's okay to make a request (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

I'd like to request where reader is also a streamer and whenever a collab horror stream with vox and hex and (separately), reader's heart beat always speeds up at the start (the game is not on yet and chat can see since she's already set up her heart beat monitor) like at some point chat notices it's a recurring thing that only happens during horror collabs with vox or hex and the chat kinda outs reader to them, and their reaction to that information.

i dunno if that makes sense exactly 😭🥹 (also please do not mind the request it if you're not up to writing 🥹 it's just me projecting how how my heart beats absolutely fast when i hear these two 😞)

I'm here to deliver Hex and Vox brain rot! One thing about me I will always write for Hex if given the opportunity. To preface I have not watched a Vox stream in a moment so I apologize if he seems a little OOC. Mentally I'm still in his ASMR era. Also shout out to Hex Haywire for currently, as of writing this, unable to go live on YouTube bc he posted horny on main.

»»————-　☾　————-««

Heart Monitor Shenanigans with Vox and Hex

Rating: SFW

Pairing: Streamer/Vtuber Reader / Vox, Hex (separate)

Warnings: Implied hidden crush. That's it that's the intro.

»»————-　☾　————-««

"Are you excited chat?" Vox entertains your combined chats as you struggle to set up your heartbeat monitor; horror game menu lopping every couple minutes that ticks by. "I'm so sorry guys, this happens every time. I even tested it out a couple hours before the stream so we would have this issue." You sheepishly say. " That's quite alright, Y/N, your chat is lovely and so are my Kindred. They get a Zatsu, a collab and a heartbeat monitor all in one stream." He chuckles. Finally after restarting the program and refreshing it on OBS your heartbeat monitor springs to life. " Thank God!" You exclaim. "Thanks for your patience everyone!" "We are finally ready? Let's gooooo! No 'Shupport' needed, nice work Y/N!" Vox praises you. Your heart jumps in your chest at the praise.

> Ayo why is Y/N BPM so high lololol

>Y/N!!!! You do this every collab with Vox

> That's kinda high....

You watch in horror as your chat blatantly drags you under the bus. You cough awkwardly and quickly try to divert the conversation. "With the scuff out of the way, why don't we get started?" You glance over at Vox's POV and his chat and man the Kindred's are also throwing you under the bus.

> Y'all are seeing what I'm seeing right?

> Love how the game hasn't even started yet and their heart rate is off they hearts HAHA

> My tsundere oshi and oblivious oshi

Vox, you can tell, is trying his best not to tease you you can tell by the tone in his voice. "Thank you for the Supa, remember to follow rules chat, this is a collab Y/N is a guest." Vox starts the game and also tries to take the attention of you, which makes your heart rate spike again. The chat goes nuts. Both you and Vox continue as normal though and begin the game.

"Thank you all for watching and thank you to Vox for the collab! I can't wait for the next one!! Say bye chat!!!" You say enthusiastic as you both prepare to end your streams. Once you end stream Vox immediately starts to haze you. "So are we gunna talk about the high BPM or was it just the anxiety of the monitor not working?" He asks smugly. "It's uh gotta be the anxiety thing..." You mumble. "Yeah, I think Kyle said the same thing last time though, Y/N... " " Vox I-" " I'm teasing you, it's fine. Honestly I find it flattering." You roll your eyes but the heat rises to your cheeks. " Thanks for the collab today, we'll definitely have to do this again soon." " Hey maybe next time we can do an off collab? " Vox suggests. A million thoughts run through your head and before you can respond Vox cuts in. "Think about it. I'd love to do it sometime. Have a good one Y/N! " Vox leaves the call. You sit there staring at your monitor which once again, spikes.... You don't know if your heart can handle an off collab.

»»————-　☾　————-««

"Chat I think Hex forgot about us." You sigh dramatically. You frantically message him over Discord for the third time asking him if he's awake. Hex wasn't streaming his POV and did warn you he might be a few minutes later but as you sit here, dedicated sicklings and your own chat, anxiously waiting.

"I'm giving him 5 more minutes then we are jumping in without him." You huff. You hear the discord " join" noise and you don't register it until you hear his voice. "You'd really start without me?" His voice as raspy as ever cuts in. Your heart pounds in your chest, partly because you weren't expecting him to join so suddenly. "H.. hex Haywire everyone!"

> Hexy!!!! Welcome

> Hi Hex!

> Woah morning voice TSKR

"Sorry for the wait... I over slept..." He admits. "You're stupid." You giggle. "You leave your collab partner and your chat, alone, unsupervised, we could've been planning to overthrow you." You joke. " You wouldn't do that, you're too sweet." He yawns. " Right chat? Aren't they the sweetest." You can see your heart rate monitor skyrocket.

> They are the sweetest!!! So true Hex

> Sus monitor

> Y/N Did you forget you have a monitor on? Www

Man the sicklings don't let anything slide. "Let's uh... Start the game." You cough awkwardly.

"Sicklings please remember to thank y/n for streaming their POV today." Hex hums out. " And thank you to Hex for coming on! Everyone say bye to Hex!!! Thank you all for coming to today's stream and I'll be back tomorrow with some more Stardew Valley! Byee!!" You say as you mute your OBS and change to your ending scene. "You're resting heart rate is concerning Y/N." Hex comments nonchalantly. "I.... pump blood really fast?" You try to avoid this topic like the plague. "Listen thanks again for breaking your sleep schedule for me, next time we'll stream in your time zone." You say. "Next time huh? Already excited for the next one." You can hear the smugness in his voice. "So what." You huff. He chuckles. "Just let me know, you know I love collabing with you. Good night Y/N" Hex hangs up and you're left with a huge grin on your face.

»»————-　☾　————-««

Psst down here... My requests are open 🗣️

#nijisanji en #luxiem #nijisanji #hex haywire #xsoliel #hex haywire x reader #hex haywire x you #vox akuma x reader #vox akuma #my writing #vox akuma x you #sfw

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dollcherray · 6 months ago

Note

GOLDHEART X READER ANY KIND ANGST/FULFF/FREAKY/ONESHOT/HEADCANONS/ANYTHING WILL DO IM THE LAST GOLDHEART SIMP ALIVE SOS FEED ME IF YOU PLEASE GRACE ME WITH A MIRCALE

🥭🐐

✧₊⁺ 24K MAGIC ᯓ★

ᛝྀི GOLDHEART X READER

⋆.˚ Notes: DON'T WORRY BRO IM HERE TO FEED YOU, EAT BRO EAT!!! reader is gn, this might be some of the few healthy hcs i've done, i wrote this betting that Goldheart has a decent personality since we don't know anything about him, this was hard to write but anything for my cuties, you have awaken something in me anon.

꩜.ᐟ Type: Headcanons, Fluff, romantic.

๋࣭ ⭑ Song: Light shower

۶ৎ I think Goldheart would be a pretty decent boyfriend compared to the other heros (we all have seen that they all are a bunch of assholes) so i think there would be little to no problems in your relationship, i headcanon him to be pretty patient so you guys would have almost no fights.

۶ৎ Goldheart would give you everything you want, clothes, jewelry, you name it, he's like one of the most famous heros if not the most, so he won't have any trouble giving you what you want.

۶ৎ Although he might be a little protective of you, since you are his partner alot of people would have their eyes on you, especially villains, so sometimes he can get a little possessive.

۶ৎ He does that out of pure worry, he has no ill intentions but sometimes it can get a tad overwhelming, However, worry not, just talk to him about it and he'll understand and try to be a little less protective to not make you uncomfortable.

۶ৎ His love language is definitely quality time, so you two go out alot although you guys have to go to less populated places to have dates because the last time you two tried to have a date in a restaurant every 5 minutes Goldheart had to give autographs to some kids that kept popping up.

۶ৎ Everytime Goldheart defeats an villain he always says "shout out to my partner" or something like that, its corny but pretty cute if you think about it.

۶ৎ This man definitely calls you "sunshine" or "honey", its like his 2 favorite nick names but he has a list of nick names for you because he is a silly romantic (istg this fucking cutie.)

۶ৎ He is very supportive on (almost) anything you do, you want to try a new sport? go for it champ, you want to dye your hair a new color? he's already buying you the hair dye.

۶ৎ I think he's a pretty good listener so you can sit with him talking about your interests for HOURS and he would carefully pay attention to you, he thinks its pretty cute when you start to info dump him with your interests.

۶ৎ Golden retriever boyfriend lololol.

#villainous x reader #villainous goldheart #villainous #romantic #x reader #gn reader #fluff #villainous fanfic #୨୧ cherry works #۶ৎ r e q u e s t

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stars-over-ice-cream · 7 days ago

Text

hello and happy holidays!!! my secret santa was (surprise surprise lmao) @klance-daydreams :)) kd i hope you're having a great time and that you enjoy reading my fic lololol this was so much fun it even has two parts!! ty for organisning this <3

part one | part two

For the record, Lance blames this entire situation on Keith. After all, it’s his fault that Lance’s tongue is positively burned to a crisp, and it’s his fault that around fifteen cups of hot chocolate are missing from the kitchen.

“You need to take a course for damage control,” Pidge mutters, handing him a mop. Lance stares at it, shuddering.

“Pidge. Please, don’t make me go out there.”

“Hunk’s an angel, I’m busy taking inventory, and no one else is here right now,” they count off their fingers.

“I’m an angel too and you know it,” Lance mutters.

“You burn kitchens. The only thing Hunk burns is a crème brûlée.”

Lance ignores the urge to fangirl over Hunk’s cooking—there are more pressing matters at stake, believe it or not, like who should be the one to face the chocolate war zone outside.

“What about Keith?” he asks. “He’d love to be sacrificed.”

“What if you two went out together?" Hunk proposes, clasping both his hands together.

Lance almost short-circuits, replying in what feels like a delayed reaction. "Ew!"

His voice comes out high-pitched and wavering. He’s all for blaming this on the mess outside, it’s probably making his brain lag more than usual.

“What?” Hunk asks innocently. “What I meant is, uh, you two would be very efficient cleaners out on the battlefield. Not as in went out, like, on a date. Obviously.”

Lance doesn't like that look in his eyes.

"I'm revoking your access to my Netflix," he threatens, as Keith’s voice just so happens to echo through the kitchen doorway.

“Lance, if you’re blaming me for your pathetic heat tolerance, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Speak of the devil." The brunette rolls his eyes as a slightly miffed Keith swings the door open.

Despite being inside for at least an hour, his nose is still red from the below freezing temperatures outside, and his whole face actually seems slightly flushed, the more Lance thinks about it. A scarf dangles from his shoulders like an afterthought.

Lance raises his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t you have taken that off, like, last century?”

It’s a low blow, but Keith set the bar when he decided to—what was it again?—oh, yeah. Chug three boiling hot chocolates in the span of two minutes. Then, with a stupidly pretty grin that Lance couldn’t say no to and eyes that seemed tipsy, challenge him to do the same. And because he’s such a trendsetter, which is a given, at least four other groups try the same task.

The result?

Altea Cafe, trashed. Hot beverages spilled on the floor, tables, even on the walls. Someone had the nerve to call it abstract art, as if they were doing Lance and his lot a favour.

“Very funny," Keith says.

“I do that sometimes.”

Giving him a signature scowl, Keith turns to Hunk and Pidge with a considerably nicer look on his face. “For the record, I’m sorry for the mess.”

“What?” Lance says. He does his best to ignore the curiously smug look on Pidge’s face—he knows that his mouth has been talking nonstop around Keith, but it doesn’t mean anything. Or at least nothing that Pidge and Hunk keep insinuating.

Keith stares at the blue-eyed boy, deadpan. “For the record, I’m sorry for the mess. I know an otorhinolaryngologist, if you want.”

Smartass.

Lance can’t deny that long words suit him, though. It just fits with the three piercings on his ears, the quick quips of his tongue, the sharp cut of his jaw. Long words are Keith’s thing, Lance decides. And it’s not because it makes his throat a little dry.

“Grab a mop and start cleaning, if you’re so sorry,” he says, suddenly fully aware that he’s probably been staring. Chucking an old mop over, it lands a metre from Keith’s feet.

“Impressive,” Keith says, sarcasm dripping off his tongue.

“As if you can say much!” Lance snaps. “Last time I checked, the mess outside is all because of you, so.”

Unaffected, Keith says flatly, “You were the one who dropped at least three cups from ‘adrenaline,’ and then proceeded to—”

“Nope! Sorry, I’m not fluent in lies and slander.”

Pidge snickers, exchanging looks with Hunk, who in turn clears his throat.

"Maybe you two would like taking this outside?" he offers, and if Lance hadn't known him for three years, he would've thought that Hunk was trying to be genuinely helpful.

Alas, he's actually playing the matchmaker card.

"No thanks," Lance says through gritted teeth. The last thing he needs is for his frankly embarrassing attempt at sweeping under tables to be seen by, well, him.

Him, at this moment, is a pain in the ass. But other times—when he’s not spouting libel against Lance like it’s his job—he can actually be quite nice. And pretty. And funny. And kind of hot.

Lance could go on about him for a while, really. It's a scientifically proven fact. Hunk once recorded a fifty minute swoon session for Lance so that he could realise just how far gone he is.

“Whipped,” Pidge snorted after Hunk texted them about it.

So, yeah. The severity of Lance’s romantic attraction is well known in his friend group, and yet he’s still subjected to knowing looks and waggling eyebrows with no mercy.

It’s honestly ridiculous! One day, Lance is going to explode with embarrassment. How much can a guy take? High doses of Keith Kogane—aforementioned pain in the ass—and relentless teasing have probably been proven fatal, after all. It's a lethal combination.

Lance would know, seeing as sometimes, it actually does feel like he's fighting for his life. Even though he’s come to the conclusion that if he ignores Keith for long enough the crush will magically disappear. Despite what his friends think, it is a phase. Just like his thankfully short soft spot for Nyma, or Allura.

He just has to get over himself.

Interrupting his thoughts, Pidge says, "Lance, you must've got Keith really worked up if he's taken his hands out of his pockets."

"Hm?" he asks, neck craning to see the ever rare phenomenon.

"—anyways, all I'm saying is, if you weren't so loud about it, no one would've heard about the challenge, right?" Keith's saying to Hunk, hands widely gesturing.

Lance doesn’t find it cute. At all. But that's where he and Pidge disagree.

“Dude, you’re staring,” they mock whisper.

“No I’m not!” Lance shoots back, heated. Just to give himself something to do, he pulls himself up onto the counter.

Keith seems to have finished his recounting of the hot chocolate challenge, and he turns to Lance, eyes piercing, locking onto him with absolutely no precision—almost dazed, blurred. They’re so bright yet dark at the same time, nothing like what Lance has seen before, and the realness of the moment catches up to him in a heartbeat.

His throat is giving up on him, Lance is pretty sure. Go figure.

“What did I do now?” he asks defensively, forever on autopilot, preparing for another verbal jab. “Did I, like,—”

And that’s when it happens.

The voice crack.

Lance cringes so bad he nearly falls off the counter. He said goodbye, hell, he yelled goodbye to voice cracks in middle school. Hunk stifles a laugh, turning around to the cupboard, and Pidge closes their eyes, sighing as if to say you’re fucking kidding me.

And Keith?

He snorts, staring at Lance’s truly and deservedly red face, and starts giggling. Throwing his head back and laughing, the scarf almost unwinding itself from him because he’s shaking that much.

What the fuck.

Keith turns around to face Hunk as if to say, you heard that too, right?, and the few seconds of silence dissolves into what Lance would officially clarify as hysterics. Great, lovely, absolutely perfect! At this rate, he’s going to have to give him back to Shiro with a no return policy: Lance cannot, and will not, look Keith in the eye again. Ever.

It’s a matter of respect and dignity, and Lance really doesn’t appreciate the Pidge inside his head doubting the fact that he has any left. Whatever. This entire day has been a shitstorm, and if he even glanced at the cafe it would only be physical evidence of that.

But the worst part?

Mortifying as it is, Lance can’t find it in himself to look away from Keith’s face. The kitchen’s overhead lights catch a glint in his eyes, and all of a sudden Lance deems his laugh the best sound he’s ever heard, even if it’s an outcome from possibly the most embarrassing moment of his life.

As the seconds wear on, Keith’s laughter doesn’t really subside (which is a pro and con for Lance, the more he thinks about it) and soon he’s wheezing, doubled over. Honestly, it’s a wonder he hasn’t collapsed yet. Pidge has their phone whipped out—who needs paparazzi when you’ve got a gremlin with a penchant for blackmail?—and Hunk is batting his eyes at Lance, gesturing at his cheekbones, mockingly swooning.

“Shut up,” Lance would’ve hissed, if it weren’t for the fact that he doesn’t trust his own tongue anymore.

“It’s official,” Pidge says. “You’re a safety hazard. Look at Keith, Lance—” Lance wants to cry, that’s literally all he’s been doing—“you’ve broken him.”

“I think you should do something,” Hunk suggests. “To make up for his… malfunction.”

“I’ll apologise to Shiro when he comes around,” Lance replies, wondering if he should text him in advance. It might cause a little bit of whiplash, after all.

“Uh, no,” Hunk says, affronted. “You should make it up to Keith.”

“Maybe us, too,” Pidge says wryly, “we deserve financial compensation for listening to that voice crack.” Lance scoffs. “But seriously, Keith.”

“You guys are making this into such a big deal,” Lance says. “I didn’t even do anything!”

His two apparent ‘best friends’ give each other a Look, and it’s almost like clockwork, the way they subtly try to leave.

“Would you look at that?” Pidge yawns, staring at their watch. “God, I forgot. Me and Matt have to get dinner ready. Oops.”

“It’s four in the fucking afternoon, Pidge.”

“Dinner takes a lot of time to prepare, Lance,” Hunk reasons. Traitor. “And I have a date with Shay, too. Guess I’ve gotta go.”

“Guys, please,” Lance almost begs, “I can’t be alone with Keith! Not when he looks drunk off his ass!”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he is,” Pidge mutters. “It’s, like, the only cure for crushing. Not that I would know.”

“What?”

That’s the second time—nope, scratch that, third time—today that Lance has nearly lost it. What do they mean, ‘only cure for crushing’? Is that the Pidge way of letting Lance know his crush on Keith is, well, unrequited? That he’s in love with someone else?

Christ. Well. Thanks, Pidge.

The door slams behind the two, a quick and cheery ‘bye!’ being Lance's only answer to the question.

He turns to Keith out of pure confusion, only to find the raven head slumped against one of the counters, sitting on the floor with his eyes closed.

Yeah, hands down, this is the weirdest day of Lance’s fucking life.

Keith hums, and Lance wonders whether he’s actually drunk—that would explain a lot, like his flushed face and skewed behaviour.

He doesn't really know what to say. Or do. It's awkward, and the silence only paves way for what Pidge said: it's, like, the only cure for crushing.

"Hi," Lance says, because if he thinks about it too much he will probably start crying, the tightness of his throat tells him that much. Hopefully he'll be blessed with Keith saying something dumb instead as a distraction.

"God, I sound like a loser," Lance mutters after a few moments of no reply. "What say you, Kogane?"

Nothing.

"You're dry as fuck."

Rinse and repeat.

"Practically burnt toast."

Once more with feeling, he supposes.

"But Keith, the thing is, expired bread grows mould, not ugly mullets."

The asshole doesn't stir at all—and no, Lance definitely isn't upset about it. He just thinks that it's too smart a line to be wasted on an unconscious Keith.

It's stupid that he's getting ghosted by him in real life. Embarrassingly stupid.

So, like a good Gen Z, he gets out his phone.

part one | part two

#voltron #klance #klance secret santa 2024 #i have to go rightttt now so ill add links in later ack #tyty kd !!!

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