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miss-kittys-magical-library · 3 years ago

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Waiting For A Star To Fall

Nikolai x Selina

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: minor angst and fluff, oral sex (m/f receiving), brief thigh riding, penetration, use of sex toys, language gif by @vousnavezrienvu

A/N: Selina and Nikolai's first date turns into more than they ever imagined.

This took a stupid amount of time to write and became a pure labor of love. Thank you @magic-multicolored-miracle and @neuroticpuppy for being with me the ENTIRE way. And @bisexualnathanyoung and @forenschik for being my guinea pig

September 1992

Selina’s phone rang, but Sunny beat her to it as he threw himself over the arm of the futon in her minuscule apartment. His elbow rammed into the wall, and Selina insisted he deserved it.

“Hello?”

There was a momentary pause. Selina stood cross-armed with a frown on her face.

“I don't recall anyone with that name living here. It's just my sister, myself, and the guy from the sixth floor who was murdered in 1985.”

“SUNNY!!”

He waved her off, “Why would I be fucking with you? You called here. My sister didn't give you this number, she's a virtual nun! She's not one to take up with strange foreign men.”

Selina launched herself at her little brother. He held the cordless phone above his head and levitated the ten feet towards the ceiling. His legs curled up underneath so she couldn't grab him by the ankle.

“UNFAIR!!”

“EVOLUTIONARY ADVANTAGE!” he shouted and stuck out his tongue. “You were saying?”

“You aren't evolution! You're a science experiment that was implanted in our mother by The Men In Black.”

“Low blow.” Sunny flipped Selina off and went back to the caller. “I mean that may or may not be the woman you ravished lakeside. I know my sister is her own woman. You scandalized her though. I think you made her feel.. feelings. Rude.”

“NICKLAUS ELTON KOSTAS GIVE ME MY PHONE!”

He held up his hand. “HEY! I can speak Russian you know.” And then Sunny did for the next several minutes occasionally glancing down at his sister.

Finally, he came back to the couch and held out the receiver to Selina. “It's for you. He's very perturbed, and Slavic. And sexy.”

She yanked the phone from her brother and flipped him off. “Klaus should've left you in 1989.” Her voice softened and her cheeks flushed as she finally answered, “Hi.”

Sunny hovered a few feet off the ground as Selina blabbered on in flirtatious Russian. He sneered and poked fun at the way his sister wound her finger up in her hair and then released it. When that didn't work, craving her attention, he began to hold an imaginary conversation with an exaggerated Russian accent.

Selina threw the first thing she could at her little brother. The remote control sailed across the room at Sunny who simply held up his hand, palm towards his sister. The remote hung in the air like he did. Then he narrowed his eyes which caused the object to lower to the floor. Selina sighed and returned to the conversation.

“Wait, you wanna take me out?” A pause. “You don't have to repay me. I'm just practicing for when I'm ethically obligated to save someone.” Pause. “Arsonists and thieves too!” Selina smiled wide as the flames licked her cheeks and ears now. “How attractive you are doesn't alter Samaritan laws, Nikolai.”

Sunny rolled his eyes flabbergasted at how his sister’s entire demeanor changed the moment she began to speak to the Russian from Sway Lake. She was being coy. Dare he say seductive as she ignored everything he managed to garner attention.

Sunny had always been the object of his sister’s devotion. EVERYONE’S devotion really. As the youngest of eight “children,” it was his birthright. Now here he was, slowly becoming Selina’s third favorite person. Not a single soul, no matter how rakish or good in bed, would ever replace Leon.

“Sure. Yeah, I’d like that.” Selina had a dopey grin on her face. “Tonight?! I mean can you even get reservations?” “Trust you? I don't know why I should, but I guess I will. I'll meet you there. Do svidaniya, Nik.. KOLYA.”

Selina hung up the phone and threw a pillow this time at Sunny. He crashed to the floor having been caught off guard and rubbed his ass.

“Just be HUMAN FOR FIVE MINUTES.”

“I AM HUMAN!! I'M JUST.. Super.”

“Super egotistical.”

“I can't help that the love of our parents turned me into a badass.”

“I just pray Reginald never finds you. You're the success to his failure with Klaus.” Selina meant that last bit with her entire being. “Now get out, I've a date tonight.”

---

“Nikolai, I can't run that fast in these boots!” Selina yelled as she desperately tried to catch up to her date. She could hear a fast-approaching man behind her yelling obscenities in a dialect she wasn't familiar with. Bulgarian or Lithuanian maybe.

He stopped at the corner. “We are wearing the same ones, look how fast I'm moving. I think it must be the several rum and cokes you had. Come,” Nikolai held out his hand, “we will go faster together.”

Selina rolled her eyes but linked her hand with his. Nikolai took off, and she started to laugh. The exhilaration and adrenaline coursed through her veins. Never in a million years would she have imagined dining and ditching.

Nik was so calm as he spoke to the waiter in the dialect they were being bellowed at. He never blinked. Then the waiter nodded, took something from him and walked away. Nikolai stood and clasped Selina’s hand and began to make his way towards the door.

“Nikolai, shouldn't you pay?”

There was a slight shake to his head. He never looked back, just kept going with Selina tight to his side. They made it to the door before they both had to give chase.

Selina swung out into the street. She waved and whistled loudly at an oncoming taxi. To her shock, it stopped to pull over for them. Nik was incredulous but had no choice except join his date as she yanked him inside the cab.

“Bleecker and Christopher, please,” she instructed the taxi driver. Selina turned to the Russian beside her, “Are we going to break the law EVERY time we're together?”

“Yes. Like a new Bonnie and Clyde.” Nikolai lifted the hand Selina hadn't realized he was still holding. His lips brushed the back of it, “Without being shot to death by the FBI.”

Selina's heart pounded in her ears. She couldn't remember seeing anyone look attractive in the color orange. Yet here was the man beside her, currently with a look she could only describe as voracious, pulling it off. Her cheeks grew hot under the weight of his stare.

“What?!” came out in an embarrassing giggle.

“I cannot look at something beautiful?”

“You don't have to lay it on THAT thick. I'm taking you back to my apartment already.”

“I'm not trying to trick you, Lina. I think you are beautiful. I almost blew my own mission. Especially under the moonlight. You made me forget what I was doing. Your willingness to allow me to do unspeakable things to your body helped,” he teased.

Selina decided to play coy as the taxi stopped in front of her building. “Let's see what happens under this month’s full moon.”

---

Selina and Nikolai on the fire escape outside her living room window. Selina a few beers in and a few steps above. Nikolai nursing a beer of his own while settled between her knees. His arm under her knee to snake around her calf. His fingers mindlessly stroked her ankle to the naked foot dangling in his lap.

They had fallen into a contented silence after nearly two hours of talking. Sharing stories in Russian and English. Nik’s curiosity about the photos and books and records she owned was endless. Selina had a hard time keeping up and answering as he flitted along from keepsake to keepsake.

Yes, that's Elton John. Somehow he and her parents were old friends. He dedicated “Your Song” to her parents every concert they went to. Selina could never figure out why.

The somehow dower, yet smiling man, with a giant cigar in his mouth that tossed Selina in the air while little Sunny hung from his back was her Godfather, Tom. He had been a CIA agent that now lived in a cabin with his beautiful French wife, Ella. That's where she had been staying up at Sway Lake. Yes he did always look like a lion with a thorn in his paw, but he was soft and kind and loving.

The Lady Godiva on the horse was her mother, Honey, back when she frequented Studio 54. Selina recalled her hair rivaled only Cher’s at that stage. Raven colored and long enough to hide her naked body (barely) as she sat side saddle on the white mare. Her head resting against the back of an equally nude man. Her one arm wrapped around his thin waist.

Nope, Nik was totally not imagining things. The man holding the reins did strongly resemble her brother and himself. That was HER papa, Leon. His hair in perfectly wild curls to his shoulders. His face full of confidence and sex.

The questions began to wear Selina down. No one had ever been this inquisitive or interested in her life. Her family. Her. The endless questions, punctuated by making out until their lips chapped, about her personally. Then, between an anecdote about Luther and rollerskating and tongues fighting for dominance they stopped.

Now Nikolai lifted Selina’s foot and kissed the top of it. Then his mouth made its way up her shin. When he reached her knee, Nik turned abruptly to face the woman behind him. He set the bottle down on the windowsill before kneeling on the stairs. He slid the hem of her dress up, fingers hooked into the fabric of her panties to tug them off. He kissed her inner thigh before letting his tongue trace painfully slow along her sex.

Selina could only grasp the railing. Her fingers curved around the cold metal and she cried out in pleasure as Nikolai slipped his tongue inside of her.

It slid in and out before eventually discovering her clit. His hands on her ass so that he could pull her onto his face. Encourage her to ride him as his tongue flicked in circles and then snaked in and out.

Selina started to lose herself. Her free hand tugged at Nik’s hair while her hips bucked and the spark grew. She twitched and cried out louder as his mouth and tongue worked faster. She opened her eyes to look down at the man keen to make her cum.

Almost as if he could feel her eyes on him, Nikolai looked up at Selina. She felt strange, shameless and used her own thumb to wipe away what was on his lips. She sucked on it briefly then grabbed Nik by the shirt towards her. Wanting for a kiss.

Selina revelled in the way she tasted on his lips and inside her own mouth. Like beer and bitterness. She had never done that before Nikolai and the lake. She wanted to do it again, and every time he went down on her. She wanted to put him in her mouth. To suck and lick and make him bend and writhe.

She could, she thought, now. Selina pushed Nik away at arms length meaning to have him sit on the stairs so she could give him head. Her fingers deft at the belt buckle and buttons on his pants. She laughed full of nerves as he fumbled, THE OVERCONFIDENT RUSSIAN FUMBLED!!

Nikolai fumbled with the buttons on his dress shirt before he finally came loose. He yanked his pants and boxers over his hips and held his cock in his hand. Nik parted her legs and started to push inside, but Selina held up her hands.

“What are you doing?”

“Do you not want me to have sex with you?” He was more shocked than angry.

Selina ran her hands over his chest and stomach then up around his neck. “I very much want to fuck you.” Nikolai huffed, but Selina continued, “I mean I've seen you naked and can't get over how fucking sexy you are.”

“Then what is wrong? Not here? Maybe this is not comfortable for you. We’ll go inside.” He stood and held out his hand.

“It's probably the same as fucking on a bunch of sticks and acorns.”

Nikolai sniffed again at the use of the word “fucking.” “Then what is wrong?”

Selina stood and climbed in through the windows. Her date followed. “There's an international health crisis. A incurable disease that passes mostly via sex and fluids?” she shouted from her room as she rummaged through drawers.

“Do you mean The..AIDS? Is that not for,” he chose his words carefully, “The gay men?”

Selina could tell Nik was more confused than anything. She heard this all the time at the clinic where she volunteered. “Or you could be bisexual or pansexual like my brothers. Contract it from a man and pass it to a female partner.”

She appeared in the living room now with a small foil package. “Or an IV drug user, also like my brother, and get it that way.”

Selina started to unwrap the condom without noticing that Nikolai was standing completely nude in her living room. “This is usually where most guys bail. They're not interested in protection or rubbers. Mostly just a pump and..” she looked up and paused in her tracks. She was distracted by his body and neck and eyes and jawline. “Christ on a cracker.”

“What?” he chuckled.

“Sorry! I know. I know. AIDS talk is a bummer. I get this close to just.. sitting on a dick and I panic? Everyone in my family got the sexual confidence memo but me.”

“Why are you panicking now? You did not freak out by Sway Lake.”

Nikolai couldn't help the teasing in his voice. He reached out for Selina to draw her close to his body. His knee inside of her thighs just like that night.

Now he unzipped and helped her out of the dress. “I think it's very sexy when you talk like a nurse. So smart and commanding.” His hands ran over her bare back and down to her ass as he brushed his nose along her neck up to her ear. He nipped at the lobe, “That can be very erotic putting a condom on.”

“Nik,” Selina could only squeak out. Her body involuntarily started to rock back and forth.

“It's Kolya. In Russian we use end of names,” he breathed in her ear. “Like your sister, Vanya. Little Ivan.”

“Ok,” Selina didn't want to hear about Vanya right now. Or Klaus. Or Diego. Instead she got down on her knees. The condom was still in her hand as she used the other to hold his erection towards her mouth.

“Lina, what are you doing?”

She looked up through her bangs, her tongue darted out to trace around the head of the cock. “Sucking your dick. What else does it look like?” She took it fully in her mouth, letting the tip hit the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” he mumbled in Russian. “Dorogoya, stop.”

Selina sat back with a popping sound, “Did I do it wrong? I'm like, the LEAST experienced person in this family.”

“You don't have to be an expert. A blow job is a blow job, we can practice another time. I want to be inside of you. And I have been very patient.”

Selina stood, but Nikolai lifted her completely off the ground. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as they stumbled towards the futon. Mouths and tongues at war as Nik sat her down on the cushions. Selina held eye contact as she expertly unrolled the condom down the length of his cock. She kissed his stomach as he noticeably shuddered.

Nikolai let his fingers caress Selina’s bottom lip before crawling on top of her. She still held his erection in her hand as he threw one of her legs over his shoulder. He held her bent knee to the side as she taunted him with her sex. Guiding it just inside before digging her nails into his ass so that he buried himself to the hilt.

Selina clawed at his back as Nik started to undulate. Over and over, further inside each time. Their bodies rocked wildly as Selina’s muscles started to shake from the position she was in. She clung to him desperately as he searched for her neck and chest with his lips.

Nikolai’s mouth devoured one of her breasts. He sucked and bit at Selina’s nipple. She cried out in shock at the sensation. The sound egged him on to go harder.

“So you like that too?” His voice raspy in her cleavage. His suckling and biting increased. She mewled in reply.

Selina was worried that it wasn't working. That she couldn't or wouldn't orgasm. Not like she did when he went down on her. How she hung from the cliff.

She WAS being pleasured. Nikolai was hitting the right spots, but she was so nervous about what she looked like under the lamplight. His rhythm and pounding, it was pounding, into her was unmatched. She cried out with exaggeration to indicate she had cum hoping he wouldn't notice.

“Fuck!” he cried out and propped himself up by the back of the futon.

Nik’s body arched while his hips made circular motion. He spasmed and shuddered as his body immediately went into shut down mode. His face covered in a sheen of sweat as he pressed his forehead into Selina’s neck then pecked it a few times.

“I.. am sorry, Lina.” There was disappointment in the Russian’s voice as he held the condom so he could pull out.

“For what?” Her arms and legs still enclosed around his back and hips.

“You did not.. cum,” Nik’s eyes searched the woman below him. “I should have tried better. I just was so turned on by you.” He swept the damp hair away from her forehead.

“You were fine! It was good. Really good. I got in my own head is all. Maybe next time?”

“You mean later tonight,” he winked then pecked the tip of her nose. “I won't leave until you are honestly screaming my name.” There were four dimples Selina counted in his smile.

“Then we’ll sleep on it first.”

----

Selina tip toed out to the kitchen both starved and thirsty. She thought about Nikolai's playful threat about not leaving until she got off and chuckled to herself. Then she peered around the wall to see him asleep on the futon. His mouth slightly agape and one hand under his cheek.

Would it be so bad with him around all the time? She thought as she cracked open a beer. To not be alone when she came home from a shift? How nice it would be to have conversations with someone not “related” in some form or another.

And Nikolai was interested in Selina. He still dodged questions about himself, answering straightforwardly with no details. She knew it was because he didn't trust her just yet. It wasn't like she didn't have secrets of her own, but the more open she COULD be, the more she knew Nik would reciprocate. It had to be lonely with only one confidante.

Selina turned around and jumped a mile in the air. “Motherfucker!”

Nikolai was casually leaning against the doorway watching her contemplate life and drinking a beer. “She IS very sexy,” he replied with a cheeky grin.

Selina rolled her eyes and walked towards her kitchen table to keep distance between herself and the Russian. As if she were daring him to chase her. Nik made her feel so contradictory. In control and submissive. Safe yet dangerous. Lustful.

There was no opposite to that, she realized. The light from her small kitchen window illuminated the lines and definition of his chest and shoulders. The collarbone that met in the middle and moved up into his thick neck with its Adam's Apple bobbing along as he swallowed. A sharp intake of breath before he clenched his jaw.

Selina’s heart pumped into her ears as he casually reached across the table for her, but she ducked out of the way. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as they danced around for only a few moments until she allowed him to grab her by the elbow. Her world stood still as he took her in his arms, back to his chest.

“I have been thinking, rypka, about our little challenge,” Nikolai settled one hand on her breast which he massaged lightly paying close attention to her nipple. His mouth somewhere behind her ear as his other hand dropped to her sex.

A finger found its way inside of Selina and she lost the air in her lungs. It curved and hooked before making a lazy swirl around her clit. “Already?” was all she managed. Her nails closed around his wrist and urged him on.

“I would like to try a different way of having sex with you. I just don't want you to be offended.”

Nik let go of Selina and placed her arms on the tabletop. He spread her hands out; bent her forward so that her top half was pressed into the wood surface. Then he grabbed her hips so that her ass was flush with his hardened cock.

“No anal,” she moaned. “Wear a condom,” another instruction. “Bathroom shelf.” She grazed against him.

“If you insist,” Nikolai replied in Russian. “I will obey.”

There was a playful slap on Selina’s ass, and she felt herself swell and throb. A first time for everything. If she enjoyed it, wet from the sting of being struck, it was.. genetic.

Her brothers, father, even Honey mentioned the occasional pain got them going. Klaus and Sunny with varying degrees of punishment. She knew from eavesdropping or snooping that her parents preferred it light: spanking or hair pulling. Maybe she did as well. Too vanilla to ask. Inexperienced to what she wanted from a partner.

“Do it again?” Selina tried not to sound desperate as Nikolai tore into the condom wrapper. She almost presented herself to him as she felt the smooth surface on her cheek.

“What?” he was distracted. There was a strange snap of latex as he adjusted it. Then taunted Selina with the head of his cock. He rubbed it along her slit, marveling at how easy it was to slide in.

“Hitting me?” she asked timidly.

“Why would I hit you?” Nikolai was offended. His hand flat on Selina's back as it traveled to her neck and hair. His fingers combed and intertwined with her dark waves then lightly tugged.

Selina braced herself as he lost himself up to the hilt. Nikolai's pelvis met her ass and pulled out to just the tip. He repeated this until he gained friction. Her head and hips were his anchor so he could thrust quicker. Their bodies make a clapping noise.

“My ass. Like you did. Hit it.” She was willing to try anything. Wanted to cum for him. She knew she could, she did it alone all the time.

“Really?” Nik was surprised. His pace was even faster and the table started to creak under the motion. “Did you like it then?” His hand cracked her flesh but only slightly harder than before.

Selina cried out. Her sex ached and was swollen. Nikolai did it one more time, but she could tell it wasn't really his thing. Sensed that it bothered him to be serious about erotic corporal punishment. Playing was different. His hand did tighten in her hair to bend her head back.

“I don't know,” was all he mumbled in Russian.

The hand that spanked Selina now encompassed her own on the table. He bent to kiss her shoulder as he found his breakneck rhythm.

“Then just go harder,” Selina found her voice now. She relaxed and allowed her body to take how deeply he penetrated her. His cock at that angle hitting a spot she found mythical.

Nikolai railed into Selina. The table and their bodies shook almost violently as he pounded into her. His shaft lost until she felt a pressure in her womb. He stood straight and clutched at the thick of her hips. Her curves she inherited from her mother. They cushioned her as his body and cock pleased her. That spark and wave rolled over Selina like on the couch.

They weren't quiet. Both forgetting about neighbors as Selina mewled and screamed out. Nikolai growled and uttered obscenities in his first language. They were certain this would be it, that Selina would orgasm and Nik would feel satisfied that he could please her.

Instead, his body violently shuddered as he exploded inside the condom. His muscles and adrenaline gave way to Nik almost collapsing on top of Selina. He faltered prior to catching her up in his arms again. He held her and whispered apologies to her as they kissed.

“Kolya,” she whispered back. “It's fine. I was really close. We have other times to experiment.” Selina swept his damp curls back.

Nikolai leaned into her hand, “You want to keep being with me?”

“That's what dating is,” she laughed under her breath. “I like being with you. I wanna know more about YOU though. Come on,” Selina took his hand. “Let's actually go to bed and talk.”

---

Selina reached blindly for Nikolai after her alarm went off. Sitting up, she slammed the clock and turned to see an empty space on the side of the bed he had fallen asleep on.

She knew he wasn't obligated to be there when she woke up. This time waking up alone left a weird knot in her stomach.

“Fuck,” she tossed herself back and threw a pillow over her head to scream. Her arms and legs failed around like a toddler throwing a fit.

How long was enough before she called him? Would he just disappear now? Klaus called it, funnily enough, ghosting. Why did everything Nik say tread a weird line between romantic and calculating? And why did Selina want him to keep saying things, anything at all, to her?

How does someone know they're falling in love? How did Honey and Leon? Klaus and Dave. Allison and Ray. Diego and Patch or Lila. Vanya and Sissy. Uncle Tom and Aunt Ella. Poor Luther.

Selina’s family had a knack for impulsive behavior when it came to attraction. Her mom moved to a foreign country with a man she had slept with for money. Klaus fought in Vietnam for a closeted man that kissed him once. Sunny went home with, to Selina’s chagrin, anyone who showered him with the simplest of affection. And Selina had laid down and spread her legs for a Russian committing arson.

“Lina you are awake?” Nikolai asked from the other room.

She threw a bathrobe on and wandered into the kitchen. “You came back.”

Nik was reaching above her tiny sink for coffee mugs and plates. “Did you not want me to?”

He set the dishes out and opened a box to pull out some pastries and bagels. Then poured coffee and handed Selina the cup.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he offered her the plate. “Greek, Italian and Russian,” a satisfied grin flashed across his face.

“Well that was kind of you,” she smiled back and helped herself to a cannoli and Russian tea cookie. “Yes, I wanted you to come back. I think I kinda always do?” she questioned her own intentions with a mouthful of pastry.

Nik leaned over and kissed Selina. His tongue darted out to taste the sweet ricotta filling on her lips; she reciprocated. Her own slipping to the back of his mouth to catch him off guard. Nik steadied himself on her hips.

There was a muddled sound of pleasure when Selina’s fingers unbuttoned Nikolai’s shirt in expert time. Their mouths never separated as she went to work on his belt and pants as he struggled to take his boots off.

“This was not my plan for this morning,” Nik breathed heavily in Russian.

“I'm just really interested in us reaching that goal,” Selina helped him out of his clothes.

Kissing again, they could feel their lips start to chap already as Selina began backing Nik into her room until he hit the foot of her bed. As he leaned back, she climbed on his lap. Her hands seized his cock and settled it in the folds of her sex. Selina rolled her hips.

“What are you doing!?” Nikolai could only cry out. Astonished by the lack of a condom.

“I'm sick of being the safe one,” she raised up on her knees so that she was above him. Her hands on his face and neck as she snaked her tongue to the back of his teeth again.

Selina shoved him back on the bed and threw off her robe. She straddled Nikolai like a woman possessed, took his hands and placed them on her breasts as she rode him. Still not penetrated.

Nik lost himself for a moment. He massaged the breasts. One hand teased a nipple, pinched it, before sitting up to devour it. Selina held him to her chest, clung to the hair on the back of his head and pulled in her excitement. Her fingers found the gnarly scar and she rocked harder on his lap.

“I want you to fuck me until I cum.”

Nikolai looked up and held her back, “It is not fucking at this point. Not for me, Lina. Also you must not compromise your principles for anyone. I do not want this for you.”

Selina groaned with exasperation. Her walls were swollen and slick and wanting. “It's not a compromise, Nik. Everyone jumps in my family and trusts they’ll fly while I stand on the cliff pacing back and forth.”

He blinked, mouth just slightly agape. That face. Selina knew that face. She loved that face. She loved this face. “Lina, you are extraordinary. You don't need to have a big life just yet. It will happen.”

“Kolya,” her words softer now as she relaxed, “I love you.”

“Do you?!” a dopey grin spread across Nikolai's face. “It is the same for me I think? I've never done this, you know. “That I love you.”

He kissed Selina before turning under her to rummage around the nightstand drawer. “Now we will go back to the way you prefer? If I need to I will get..” he stopped and held something aloft. Now his smile and dimples were devilish.

He studied it before making it buzz with a push of a button. “Pocket Rocket?! Lina, are you secretly naughty?" he giggled.

"I don't think it's a secret to you anymore,” she reached for it. Her cheeks turned red.

"Who do you fantasize about when you use it?" Nikolai held it to Selina’s breasts. He watched with fascination as her nipples hardened. He let it travel over her stomach and back up.

Selina moaned and twisted. "You're just trying to get me to say you, but I've had it since I turned twenty. So mostly you know.. Keanu Reeves..”

“But not me?" his eyebrow cocked. Nikolai traced the vibrator along her hips and over her pelvic bone.

"Once in a while,” her words came out breathless.

"As a Russian, I'm already superior at using it because rocket?” he waggled his brows now. “We can now? With you on top?”

The toy found her slit and slid inside easily. It buzzed and made the air rush out of Selina’s lungs. She dug her nails into Nikolai's chest while he started to use the vibrator to have sex with her. Found a pattern of in and out while she bucked and writhed.

Selina reached back to anchor herself on one of Nik’s thighs. It allowed him better access to her clit. He Marveled at the way she agonized under his hand as it manipulated her. His free hand on her ass to coax her faster as SHE undulated now as he had done on the couch. Her hips danced separately from her upper half.

Nikolai rolled Selina on her back all of a sudden. Her hair hung off the bed as he propped up on an elbow. He worked the vibrator in circles. In and out of her slick walls before going after the clit.

Selina got tangled up in the sheets as she felt a warmth spread from her stomach to her sex. Her thighs started to tighten around Nik's hand as she thrust her hips off the bed. Eyes clamped shut as the first wave washed over her body. Neck exposed for him to suck and bite which urged another orgasm to burn through her.

Nikolai was stunned by her silence. Selina’s mouth opened in a silent cry as she came a third time in succession. This last time she managed a strangled scream of his name which he swallowed with a kiss.

A shiver ran through Selina while she relaxed. Her fingers traced patterns along Nikolai's bicep as her eyes closed. Cumming was like a sedative. Nikolai cupping her face and drawing it to his for a lazy kiss was a sedative. The rain she had no idea was pouring in buckets outside her window was also a sedative.

The vibrator continued buzzing until it didn't. The room grew quiet save for the breaths that came from Nik’s nose. Still heavy with his still hardened bulge pressed into Selina’s hip. There was no move to get on top of her. To have sex with her so he, too, could cum. She started to idly jerk him off.

“Lina stop,” he gently took her hand. “This was about you, not me. It'll go away eventually. Like I will,” he said that last bit with a challenge in his voice.

Selina curled on her side towards Nikolai. “Or maybe don't go?”

“Ty khochesh', chtoby ya ostalsya?” You want me to stay?

“Po krayney mere, yeshche odno polnoluniye.”

At least one more full moon.

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#robert sheehan #robert sheehan character fic #robert sheehan imagine #nikolai x selina #song of sway lake fic #robert sheehan smut #moonbrella lake

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deltaengineering · 3 years ago

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Spring Anime 2021: Embarrassment of Riches

So this current anime season absolutely stinks, which just makes the last one look even more impressive. Well, maybe not all of it...

Zombieland Saga Revenge

First off, you don't need to tell me that the following is a severe outlier opinion. We good? Ok. ZLSR is, in a word, subpar. I liked S1 back in the day, but it was already in the process of getting lazy towards the end. S2 continues this trend and is basically just another idol show. And as someone who actually does watch other idol shows I have to say that it's not a particularly good one of those either. The zombie gimmick has mostly stopped mattering and we're just doing what every idol show does, only with the odd occasional sight gag. The alleged subversive qualities mostly amount to a flashback for Yuugiri, which is admittedly the best part of the show but feels like it barely has anything to do with anything. Apart from that, it's a bunch of generic idol plots, rehashed character beats, shoddy attempts at twists (while not connecting to any setups from S1), and the obligatory "idols give us hope" ending, which is terribly hackneyed and flat out bad. Tae gets further memed into the ground, because of course she does. And there's stuff that was simply never good to begin with, like Kotarou and his comedy schtick, which gets truly insufferable now that there's no qualities to distract from it. It really makes me think that S1 wasn't even all that good to begin with and seems like an attempt to turn this surprise success into an easy money longrunner with no edge and no ambitions. "The idol show for people who don't watch idol shows" indeed, but not the way you mean it. 4/10

Bakuten

But not to dwell on the failures, with the second show we're already above the cut — barely. This one got my attention with its really impressive performance scenes early on and it totally sticks to that, which is even more impressive. But besides that? Well, this is by far the most predictable show in a season where I watched an unambitious Kiraralike and put ZLS on blast for having no ideas. The characters are a mixed bag, some are cool (Shida, Asawo), some are very annoying (Mashiro), but those are the supports. The main cast is extremely one-dimensional, which is fine until they try to heap a ton of pathos on their lead, which doesn't go well. But I guess execution matters, and Bakuten is slick enough to get by. Writing this down in stark daylight I feel like I overrated this show somewhat (I actually put it over the next one originally, which definitely doesn't hold up when thinking about it), but I was indeed mostly entertained. 6/10

Yakunara Mug Cup mo

Yeah. Of course Mug Cup definitely doesn't invent or subvert anything either, but it's a pretty good Kiraralike that's always entertaining to watch. Explaining the qualities of such a nothing genre is as difficult as ever, but it mostly comes down to me liking the characters and it having nothing to annoy me. It's shorter than normal, which is a plus for slim shows like this. And yeah, you can make an excessive amount of dick jokes with the clay fondling. That helps too. Looks are just fine, pleasant but nothing out of the ordinary. Comfy low-effort anime. 6/10

Vivy: Fluorite Eye's Song

This one is decent, but sadly still a major letdown. Because the first few episodes of Vivy were excellent and kicked ass, but then it became increasingly clear that the writing can't cash the checks the ideas wrote while the action starts running into severely diminishing returns. Vivy just keeps slowly getting worse and worse as it goes on, not by a huge amount each episode but by the end there's a pretty sizeable gulf between potential and result. Going into detail would probably be a little much for this venue because there's a lot, but from the top level view the issue is that while Vivy has good fundamental ideas and steals at the right places, it just isn't a smart show — it's schlock, and by the end, poorly thought out schlock that tries to smooth out every problem with liberal application of the big feels hammer and le epic twist at that. Yeah, couldn't tell that the Re:Zero dude was aboard here, for sure. That said, it still works pretty well as entertaining schlock that is not to be taken too seriously, and the characters are generally just very fun to watch even when they're doing stupid things. Still, I can't in good conscience rate this higher than Beatless, a show that looks like butt but properly executes on its ideas. 6/10

Super Cub

So this is 100% a Honda commercial, and I got really mad a Yuru Camp last season for being a blatant shill. Yet I'm feeling this, what gives? I think the main difference is that Super Cub is specifically a commercial for one product (and a very iconic product at that), while Yuru Camp is so all over the place that it ends up mostly a commercial for consumerism in general. And when Super Cub goes too hard on the product (which it does), it's at least pretty entertaining. That's something about Super Cub in general: It goes hard. Your regular Kiraralike this is not, because it's uncommonly slow, focused and moody - yes, it almost measures up to Yuru Camp at its best and demolishes it at its worst. Also, it's just extremely amusing to see sadblob Koguma grow a huge grizzly biker beard and become a badass outlaw dad to her goofy wife and cute daughter, all thanks to the power of afforable personal transportation. Needless to say, that can get unintentionally silly, but Super Cub has so much charm that it doesn't matter — it's great when it's good and still funny when it's not. 7/10

Shadows House

Shadows House turned up with a lot of potential, and I have to say it at least delivered on most of it. It has some problems; notably I'm not a fan of how the entire middle turned out to be a tournament arc of sorts that seems curiously inspired by Resident Evil memes, crest-shaped intentations and boulder punching included. I also think that this is a show that would be perfectly fine without explaining much, but I guess it is a shounen manga after all so we got dumped on eventually anyway. At least that came late - close relative Promised Neverland didn't show that much restraint. Shadows House is generally well written though, with great characters, interesting interactions and a great hook. But what really makes it memorable is that it's exceptionally good at the cute/creepy contrast, something that is often tried but rarely works as well as here, with great character designs and very appropriate production. I hope this gets a sequel, because it seems like it's just getting started. 7/10

SSSS.Dynazenon

Coming in with a fondness for Gridman, Dynazenon didn't have to do much to convince me. The surprise though is that it's not a rehash even if it's basically the same show, a character drama where occasionally huge and goofy fights break out. Dynazenon is Gridman done better, and the interesting part is how it accomplishes this - mainly by being far more conventional. I do appreciate that Gridman went for something weird and almost experimental, but that only really paid off towards the end while most of the show was a distraction/holding pattern. It just didn't feel like there was enough material for a full series there, more like a movie maybe, if even that. Dynazenon fixes this by just being a TV show, with an actual cast of characters that each have their own arc. And by spreading the material this way, Dynazenon ends up having a lot more nuance than its intensely focused predecessor, while having the same themes and not actually being any deeper. In a way, Gridman ends up looking like the spinoff in retrospect, while Dynazenon is the full package. 8/10

Thunderbolt Fantasy S3

So how good was this season? So good that Thunderbolt Fantasy doesn't end up at the top, that's how. And all the elements that made Tbolt such a sure thing are still there, big hammy puppets doing stunts and scheming never gets old. However, I do have to note that at this point, the writing appears to have gotten too comfortable. I don't expect it to ever top the amazing S1 ending, but at this point it's like Tbolt has stopped trying to deliver on endings at all and seems in the process of retooling itself into a longrunner instead. Barely anything gets resolved in S3 (the climax is that the climax of S2 is resolved again, for good this time... maybe), and everything else is just setting up plotpoints for the next season. Tbolt is truly lucky that it doesn't actually need to resolve anything to be a great time, but at this point I have to say that I'd appreciate it if they wrapped it up with S4. 8/10

Nomad: Megalobox 2

Speaking of sequels to shows I liked, Nomad doesn't so much improve upon its predecessor but steamrolls right over it. This is a tall order, since Megalobox was surprisingly good for a sports shounen and had a real nice, heartwarming ending that Nomad instantly negates for purposes of drama and everyone being extremely miserable. That sounds like a pretty terrible idea - and it would be, if Nomad wasn't as excellent as it is. To call it not the same show would be an understatement, because it's a true sequel, not just the same characters doing their thing some more, or new characters doing the same thing as the old ones did. Indeed my biggest problem with Megalobox was that it still closely adhered to its genre template and was very predictable; Nomad fixes this issue thoroughly. Nomad is about questioning what being a hotblooded shounen protagonist eventually leads you to, and how to fix everything you screwed up by being one. You could call it a deconstruction, but that term has been so abused for cynical, edgy "thing you like actually sucks" takes that I feel like it doesn't really fit here. Nomad isn't cynical at all, it's just a character drama about some boxers past their prime, and it being a sequel to a show that is indeed rather formulaic just enhances the experience. My biggest issue with it was that I really like what they did with Joe in this story, so the big focus on Mac's backstory felt like a distraction for a long time. But in the end that turned out to be absolutely necessary to make the ending work. The ending's just great, by the way, and I shall say not more about it. 9/10

Odd Taxi

Yeah boy, here's the show that has apparently become somewhat of a "greatest show you didn't watch" meme, which I can feel smug about because I don't need YouTubers to tell me what's good and followed this from day one. Anyway, Odd Taxi is indeed great, the greatest show in a few years even. What starts out as seemingly a relaxed hangout show in the vein of Midnight Diners quickly turns into a psychological murder mystery while never losing its quirky humor. The character writing is outstanding, with even small bit players being on a level that the average anime wishes it could have for leads. And the rollout of the mystery is exemplary, with answers given and new questions raised every episode with a satisfying and logical payoff in the end. This is also the rare anime that has rock solid production from the first to the last second; it's never really flashy but excellently done and highly consistent nonetheless. And the music just owns. I have a few complaints, mainly that there's a few logical weaknesses in the story (which wouldn't even register in a lesser show, but sticks out here since the rest is so immaculately constructed) and that the ending overextends on the emotions when the rest of the show is so reserved and dry in comparison. But those are only the reasons why I didn't give it perfect marks, and I almost did that anyway. 9/10

#Zombieland Saga #bakuten #yakunara mug cup mo #vivy: fluorite eye's song #super cub #shadows house #ssss.dynazenon #thunderbolt fantasy #nomad megalo box #odd taxi #anime #review #spring2021

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legionofpotatoes · 4 years ago

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we decided to watch all story cutscenes from the new resident evil village videogame on a whim, since it’s not really our cup of tea gameplay-wise but seems to be this massive zeitgeist moment that made us morbidly curious. And I know how much everyone cares about my thoughts on things I know very little about, so. let’s get into it huh gamers. and yeah spoilers?

for context, I’ve only played resident evil 4 and a small portion of 5. I also read the wikipedia entry for 7’s plot recently. all this to say I was only vaguely aware of how tonally wacky the series was going in

I also completely gave up following the plot of the mutagens’ soap opera, so that paid off in spades here as you might imagine

anyway so that baby in the intro. that baby’s head is just massive. humongous toddlerdome. when ethan finds the baby’s head in a jar later on. there is no way that head would fit into that jar. bad game design. no not even game design. basic stuff. one hundred years in prison for jar modeler

if I see a single functional hetero marriage in video games I will cry tears of joy. I understand their misery is kind of The Point irt them badly working through the hillbilly romp trauma but like. sheesh. at least set that up as an emotional story goal the plot will help resolve. but nope they start off miserable and it goes nowhere

I know I know the mia thing has a huge wrinkle in it but like. not really in terms of dramatic function?? set up a happy end to the re7 nightmare (miranda can keep up appearances for all she cares) and then take that all away from angry griffin mcelroy for manpain. it will still absolutely work to set up the dramatic forward momentum. why throw in this cliche Hollywood Tension in their marriage if you’re not going to address it oh maybe because it’s normalized as automatically interesting because nuclear families are a self-propagating pit of a very narrow chance at emotional happiness relying on social stigma to preserve their empty function oops my baggage slipped in yikes abort mission

I called him griffin mcelroy because I saw his face on twitter and. yeah. I will continue to do this occasionally. my house my rules

... fuck the reason I’m hung up on this is specifically because the rest of the game is so tonally dexterous (which is a shining point to me! more on that later!), and yet they felt weirdly compelled to create the aesthetic trapping of a family-at-odds trope without following it through too well. a sign of both the good and the bad stuff to come

but listen the real reason why I wanted to talk about any of this is to nitpick the fascinating backwards-engineered nucleus of the entire thing; in that this game essentially creates a melting pot of just SO many disparate horror tropes and then makes a no-holds-barred unhinged effort at weaving thick lore to piece them all together. it is truly a sight to behold. like straight up you got your backwoods fright night situation, your gothic castle vampires, your rural-industrial werewolves, and don’t forget your bloated swamp monsters over there, with then a hard left turn into robotic body horror, and the entire ass subgenre of Creepy Doll writ large, and the bloodborne tentacle monsters, and a hellboy angel bossfight, which rides on the coattails of a mech-on-mech pacific rim bonanza, and just jesus henry christ slow down

almost all of these are textural hijack jobs that don’t really get into the metaphor plain of any of those settings but the game sort-of makes an argument that the texture IS the point and revels in it. It is kind of admirable almost. The same reason why the intro felt boxed in and unmotivated is also why the rest of the game just blasts off of its hinges to the point of complete and self-indulgent tonal abandon. I kinda loved that about it. lady dimitrescu made sure to hold her hat down as she bent forward in mahogany doorways and then suddenly she’s a giant gore dragon and you settle in your temp role as dark souls man with Gun to take her ass down. Excellent??

this rhino rampage impulse to gobble up every horror aesthetic known to man comes to head when the game wrestles with its FPS trappings in what is the most hilarious solution in creating visceral player damage moments. Since most cinematics and the entire game is in first person, that leaves precious little real estate for the devs to work with if they really want to sell griffin’s physical crucible. To wit. This dude’s forearms. Specifically just the forearms. They are MASSACRED throughout the story. The poor man lives out the silent hill dimension of a hand model. by the end cutscene he looks like a neatly dressed desk clerk who had decided to stick both his grabbers into garbage disposal grinders just a few hours prior. like in addition to everything else it manages to rope in that tinge of slapstick violence into its general grievous genre collection except this time it IS for a lack of trying! truly incredible

but wait his miracle clawbacks from everything his poor paws go through are retroactively explained away, yes, but far too vaguely and far too late to console me as I sat and watched everyone’s favorite baby brother reattach an entirely severed hand to his wrist stump by just. placing it on there. and giving it a lil twist ‘n pop terminator-style. and then willing his fingers back into motion right in front of my bulging eyes. this game just does not care. it does not give a shit. and boy howdy will it work to make that into one of its strongest suits

cause generally speaking resident evil was THE premiere vanilla zombie content destinaysh for like a decade, right? and as the rest of the world and mainstream media started encroaching and bloodying its blue ocean it went and just exploded in every single conceivable horror trope direction like a smilodon on catnip. truly, genuinely fascinating franchise moves

yeah the big vampire milf is hot. other news; grass... green. although I do love the implication that her closet is just identical white dresses on a rack. cartoon network-level queen shit

apropos of nothing I’ve said there’s also this hobo dante-devimaycry-magneto man, and I can’t believe this sentence makes sense. anyway he made that “boulder-punching asshole” joke referring to chris redfield and it was probably the only easter egg that really landed for me and boy did it land hard. I have not seen him punch the boulder in re5, mind. I had only heard about how funny it is from friends. and here this dude was, probably in the same exact mindset as me, trying to grapple with that insane mental image. with you on that ian mckellen, loud and clear

I advocate vehemently against the shallow pursuit of hyper photorealism in art direction but I gotta admit it works really in favor of immersive horror like this. the european village shacks especially gave me super unchill flashbacks to my rural countryside retreat in western georgia. I could smell the linoleum dude. not cool

faces are weird in this game. can’t place it. nice textures, good animation, but the modeling template is... uuh strange? and the hair. it has that clustered-flat-clumpy look that harkens to something very specific and unpleasant but I just don’t know what. sue me

griffin’s mental aptitude to take all this shit in stride and end every seemingly traumatizing bossfight involving some fucking eldritch being yet unseen through mortal eyes by essentially throwing out an MCU quip is just. What the fuck dude? I mean that was funny how you casually yelled the f-word at a god damn werewolf that you considered a fairy tale an hour ago but are you like, all right?? it was swinging a sledgehammer the size of a bus at you, ethan

oh oh the vampires are afraid of cold and your last name is winters. I get it haha

Pro Gamer Nitpick: boss fights seemed a bit unnecessarily long?? idk why the youtuber we picked decided the ENTIRE propeller man fight counted towards the vital story scenes he was stitching together, but man mr big daddy lite there really had some get up and go huh??

why are they saying dimitrescu.. like that. is it really how you say that word or is the english language relapsing into its fetish for ending every single word with a consonant at all costs

I’m not saying it’s a dramatic miss of a twist in context of all that’s going on, but the “you died in the last game actually and have been DC’s clayface ever since” revelation is low-key. it’s. it’s just funny to me, I dont know what to say. century-old god-witch fails her evil plan after she mistakenly removes heart from what was definitely NOT just some white guy with eight fingers after all

chris realizing he’s about to become the player character and immediately swapping out his tsundere trenchcoat for the muscletight sex haver sweater

the little bluetooth speaker-sized pipe bomb he taped to his knife was nuclear?? really??? I must have missed something because that is just too good. I buy it though I totally buy it. chris just got them fun-sized nukes in his car trunk for, you guessed it, Situations

anyway this is all for now just wanted to briefly touch on how unexpectedly funny and tonally irreverent this seemingly serious game turned out to be. did not articulate any cathartic story beats whatsoever but my god it had fun connecting those plot points. he just fucking put his severed hand back on his stump and it Just Worked todd howard get in here

#text #another one in my bulleted review series with no rhyme or reason #sorry resident evil fans this could be a painful read pls turn away #i know almost nothing about it but i am gonna be super fake familiar and critical of this one hey ho

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imaginedcreaderinsert · 4 years ago

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Jason’s Room — Jason Todd x Reader (+ Dick Grayson)

SUMMARY: “Yeah?”You hear music; it’s loud, deafening probably, but you don’t have to worry about waking up your partner.Dick is out patrolling, and the bed is now cold. You try and warm yourself up in the duvet. Still doesn’t help, but there’s a rush that slowly burning up your body.No one talks, but you’ve seen the caller ID; enough to make you worry after checking the time, see if it was an emergency. But Jason seems to be frozen.“Jay, I saw it was you. Everything alright?”

WORD COUNT: 2140.

TW: Angsty, toxic relationship implied. Some cheating can be read, but is not acted on. Jason Todd is not portrayed as a good person on this one.

A/N: I have no excuse for writing this, other than really wanting to, which I think it’s a good step, seeing as I’ve abandoned writing for my own pleasure completely. So yeah, just have this.

LYRICS COMPLETELY TAKEN FROM “Marvin’s Room”, by Drake.

Bitches in my old phone

I should call one and go home

I've been in this club too long

He’s really so fucking drunk. He shouldn’t be allowed to go out on nights like that, but he still does.

(Maybe clinging to the idea that someone will call him up and say “hey, don’t go, I know you’re bad, let’s talk?”.

He’s stupid, really stupid. Stupid enough to-)

No, he’s already drinking up another shot, from that lined up column of alcohol in front of him. Jason’s pretty sure he’s at a new club, but he can’t say for sure: nothing is familiar and yet everything echoes in him for a reason: faces, blurred-out expressions of joy and a world going too fast around him; music beating too hard in his chest, making his heart almost leap out of it; laughter that he’s not sure that’s coming out of him really, even as he feels his smile growing, a charismatic and cocky attitude coming out of him.

He could have anyone he wanted; Jason knows he doesn’t have the suave attitude of the family, and yet “the bad boy” always attracts a certain crowd of girls he feels like he could go in for that night.

Jason knows he could, but doesn’t. His hand moves up and down this gorgeous girl at her side, a bronzed goddess, but his eyes move to check up his phone: no new messages or calls.

It’s obsessive really. It must have been the third time he’s done that since his last shot, but… It’s infuriating to know he’s not needed.

(He is; there’s always that stupid booty call, the fucking vigilante stuff he feels less and less like going in for – it now means something different, something that wrecks him up inside – or the casual reaching out he’s not really interested in deepening.

Just not by that one person he hasn’t heard anything from in the last weeks.

And you said you’d call by now (“in a week or so”), and yet--)

The woman that I would try

Is happy with a good guy

But I've been drinkin' so much

That I'ma call her anyway, and say

“Yeah?”

You hear music; it’s loud, deafening probably, but you don’t have to worry about waking up your partner.

Dick is out patrolling, and the bed is now cold. You try and warm yourself up in the duvet. Still doesn’t help, but there’s a rush that slowly burning up your body.

No one talks, but you’ve seen the caller ID; enough to make you worry after checking the time, see if it was an emergency... But Jason seems to be frozen.

“Jay, I saw it was you. Everything alright?”

“Fuck, I-Fuck, no, I’m-Agh, I’ave to get out of ‘ere… Excuse YOU!” He drags out the vocals; tone is sleazy, lazy, and you would recognize that anyone, of course.

“Are you drunk? Jason?”

You feel incredibly naked, even with your thick pajamas out; you’ve lived this out too many times, and you can almost see him climb your bed.

It’s been a long time since he’s done that, but it’s something you will always remember: the creaking of the wood, springs of the bed, rustling of sheets as he tossed sheets here and there all night.

(The stupid “I love you’s”, the lazy and very drunken make-outs, while groping each other).

“Jason, are you okay or not?”

I know you still think about the times we had

I say fuck that nigga that you think you found

And since you picked up, I know he's not around, oh oh

I'm just sayin' you could do better

Cause even if those VERY BLURRY nights that you can’t almost remember were nice, there were also the others; those which kind of made you hold onto Dick tighter in bed, at dawn when he sneaked in, cold skin, occasionally bruised. He felt so precious and delicate under the first rays of sun, as his dreams started to die under his eyelids, barely any movement in his body save the soft breathing out of his mouth. Too precious, and too yours.

You loved him entirely and completely. He made you feel so happy you wanted to cry at times; there was nothing lacking, not the sex, not the affection.

But Jason doesn’t think the same.

What about the rush, what about the times you’ve had?

“Why you pick up?” I know he’s not there, he implies, but doesn’t say. She knows too. “It’s late. Thought you were now reformed; no phone after 2AM or something like that, right?”

“Some of us have jobs. Unfortunately, I don’t have a fortune to fall back on”.

“Ouch.”

It’s very easy to just talk. They laugh, and she gets up on bed; Jason can picture her, duvet up to her chin, propping up her pillow (the best he’s had), to talk better, while still charging the phone. He hears the rustling on her side, meaning she’s staring at the side he used to sleep in. She always loved to sleep tucked into his chest.

“You still haven’t answered.”

“Right back at ya’. Are you okay?”

A really difficult question for a drunken and very honest man at 3AM in the morning.

If he was a better man, he would wish her a goodnight and hang up; no more talking, no more suggesting, no more playing with fire. If he was a better man, he probably wouldn’t be drunk-texting girls to “cheer him up” after this call, and he would just go home, sleep it off, and go at it again another night.

But he really is not, and it’s too late to go back now. That’s at least what he tells himself, what he tries to entitle himself into: he feels too much, he’s had it bad the last couple of weeks without you. So, he is owed that.

And that is his mistake, for no one is entitled to anything over anyone, no matter their own personal suffering.

“I guess.” Vague; but enough to let her get out, not dig in. Which is really a trap when he knows of your good nature, but he tells himself that it’s your choice (your fault!) for asking about it.

“That’s… Comforting, I guess. Friend calling at 3AM, probably lost and unaware of where he is right now, fucking drunk and in a completely safe neighborhood, I’m sure…”. There’s a sigh. He hates hearing you sigh; it’s always cause you’re so tired of him, he knows, he knows. And he hates himself for it, makes him feel so useless. “Just send me your location, I’ll guide you home.”

‘But aren’t you on Blüdhaven?’, he naïvely wants to ask, just to almost punch himself right after. She means the safe house or whatever place is near, that she might have still saved as her favorite or most usual locations at Gotham.

Tell me, have you heard that lately?

I'm just sayin' you could do better

And I'll start hatin' only if you make me

“So, why you pick up?”, he asks again, just enough sober. His stomach is in knots from the alcohol (and not waiting for your answer, just hearing your voice and talking to you). He’s on a taxi, and the yellow lights on him are making him sleepy. “I answered.”

It’s 4.38AM. Sending a cab there was easy enough once you had his location and Jason swore he wasn’t moving anymore. Bless technology, you think to yourself now a bit irritated for wanting to sleep and not being able to. Your lids are heavy, and the sheets too soft.

“Obviously cause’ I��m an idiot who forgot to silence their phone.” It’s a half-joke. If you had done just like Dick had suggested, you would not be having that conversation. You change sides in your bed, now looking outside, to the window; Jason’s sigh is audible. You almost feel a heavy and ghostly arm bracing you from behind. “If the info is correct, you should be arriving home soon. Wanna hang up?”

“I miss you.”

A beat.

Breath knocked out of your lungs and silence only interrupted by your dramatic mouth breathing. You literally forgot to breathe; that’s how being with Jason used to make you feel.

As exciting and exhilarating every night out or in with him was, it was not good for you. The nights that were good, but the bad ones, really made your feel like shit. And if someone loves you, they will never hurt you. You know, you so know, how bad he’s had it: but that’s not an excuse for his shitty behavior, his stupid harmful jokes or the way he made you feel.

“Jason, it’s been a long week, I know.”

“No, I know, I know-I’m not-I’m not trying to-“. A sigh. His sighs always broke you: too tired, too broken. Jason always had a way with words, but you managed to sometimes kill that off too. “I don’t want to start out anything. I just want to say sorry. I wanted to, but I know-fuck, I really KNOW-“

“Don’t scream, please.” Firm. Cold.

He’s losing you.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m an ass.” He laughs; it’s self-deprecating and you hate it, but you really don’t have the energy right now. “I…”. Nothing comes out. There’s a long silence. Inhale, exhale (“Jason, just breathe, please”): “I love you. Probably more than I would ever admit to do, and you mean so much to me, but I fucked up big time. And I know, I know-” He emphasizes, without elevating his tone. “-I know you’re so happy with him, fuck! It’s disgusting. It’s fucking bizarre to see you two together.” Poison that he spits, that’s eating him out; acid destroying everything inside, every little nerve of sanity still inside. “And yet, I can’t stop-I really think I don’t want to stop thinking on whatever we had, on the kiss we shared-“

“Jay, that was not-“

“No, I know. I know, but we shared it, and it brought me memories, and you closed off! Fuck, I had you to myself, we were-fuck.”

He curses out for a bit. You let him vent, sighing and putting your hand over your eyes, as if to stop everything from happening. No more 3AM calls.

Had it been pretty shitty of you to get with his “brother”? Maybe, but it wasn’t on purpose or with a malicious intent. It really had been pure coincidence that you had hit if off on one of the galas where Jason stood you up, with a considerable hangover and too sick to move anywhere. That, with the argument you had been having more and more often… Jason wasn’t sure you were even going to show up, but there they had met, and he regrets it every day.

(But sometimes…

Sometimes they look so perfect that he thinks they might just have been destined to happen, one way or another. If it was not in a gala, maybe a rescue, maybe a touch on the street, a crush, a rude Gothamite exchange of words as you clashed onto each other.

Whatever. It just happened and now you two were together.)

“Jason, I was never… “Only yours” to have.”

“On that we can agree. We never really settled, and I didn’t ever treat you nice.”

Not like she wanted; he knew. They were just… Casual friends who fucked every two weeks, who occasionally kissed and got jealous over the other receiving attention from the opposite sex (sometimes same sex). Despite what everyone else thinks, he is quickly to see others social intentions; her whispers on his skin, the brightness on her eyes whenever they would do it with such intimacy, the cuddling… No, he knew, of course he did, that she wanted more.

Jason just wasn’t ready for it. He might never be, but it’s not your fault; never was, never will. And he might just have lost forever the one thing he wanted.

But that’s the thing: everyone wants the chocolate scoop. But what they might need for a change is something they’ve never tried before.

“I don’t know what you’re babbling on about ice cream, Jay. I really…”. She’s tired, he knows. From him, from Dick and his waiting (she never really liked him going on rounds); from just having to bear with all the weight of the world on her naked and frail shoulders. “It’s not the time for this conversation. Can we… Talk another time?”

A beat.

Inhale, exhale.

“Yeah.”. Tired, so tired. Lids closing off,. “I’m here anyways, so I’ll hang up…”. Silence; insufferable silence. He closes his eyes for a second. “Have a goodnight.”

“You too, Jason.”

He’s not there, but he will be soon. He hopes for that, at least; everything will be easier.

#reader insert #Jason Todd #jason todd fanfiction #dcu x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #dcu fanfic #jason todd fanfic #dick grayson implied

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bitterepiphany · 4 years ago

Text

haircuts

Archive Of Our Own

a little aruanixhitch request for somsss <3<3<3 hopefully it helps distract all you manga readers from the pain

Warnings: none

Summary: hitch is a good friend. a fantastic one, in her opinion. so what sort of friend would she be if she didn’t help poor annie out with that boy she has obvious heart eyes for? luckily for her, armin needs a haircut

Annie Leonhardt was not a subtle starer. She never looked at anyone for longer than a few seconds at a time, even during conversations, so Hitch found it rather amusing when she discovered her friend rather obviously ogling a certain blonde head of hair in front of them for more than three-quarters of their advanced biology class.

Hitch Dreyse was tempted to chide the girl for not paying attention in class; their half-yearlies were coming up rather quickly, after all, but she doubted Annie would listen to her. But Hitch was rather curious as to why this boy in particular had caught someone like Annie Leonhardt’s attention. She waited until their professor Hange gave them a few minutes to pack up, leaned over, and rested her elbow on Annie’s shoulder.

“So, Armin Arlert, huh?”

Annie’s reaction was immediate. Her head snapped around to face Hitch, her usually half-lidded eyes stretched wide with shock. A faint pink blush was spreading over her cheeks.

“W-what?” Hitch’s grin stretched wider at Annie’s attempt at sounding nonchalant.

“C’mon Annie, don’t act dumb,” she teased, “It’s pretty obvious when you stare you know.”

Annie flushed a deeper red, turning away abruptly. She began to shove her things in her bag roughly. She stood, brushing her bangs behind her ear. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled, striding away quickly as soon as the bell rang.

“Ooh, Annie, darling,” Hitch crooned at her retreating back, “You’re not a very good liar..!”

Chuckling, Hitch barely caught the vulgar gesture Annie threw at her behind her back. She slowly began to pack her things away.

Hitch and Annie had an interesting friendship, to say the least. While Hitch was bubbly, outgoing, and popular (at least that's what she thought, well hoped people thought of her), Annie, decidedly, was not. Loner, was a pretty good word to describe the girl. She was quiet, unassuming, and pretty much kept to herself. In their freshman and sophomore years of highschool, Annie was one of the few kids who never attended a party, though not because she was disliked or unpopular; rather, she was always invited, but she just never showed up. But following Hitch’s discovery after an interesting English project together that Annie was, underneath that cold exterior, actually quite an interesting person, she made an effort to befriend the girl and bring her to social gatherings.

Hitch was proud enough to have the honour of being the person who brought Annie to the first whole year party of junior year, and since then, they had maintained an unconventional friendship. It had served useful for Hitch, as Annie was pretty smart and, surprisingly, skilled at forging signatures for late notes, and usually only requested a packet of something sweet, like donuts, in return for a favour. Annie had gotten Hitch out of a particularly tough spot after almost being caught in the boys change room one time (Hitch resolved never to go that far for a boy ever again), and Hitch was prepared to cover for Annie if her forging exploits were ever exposed.

One thing Hitch had never managed to get out of Annie however, was boys. Before befriending Hitch and occasionally hanging out with her, when she wasn’t alone, Annie was often in the presence of two other boys in their year; Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Hoover. What puzzled Hitch about this however, was that the three seemed to be stuck in some weird, broken, love triangle. Bertholdt was hopelessly - pathetically, really - smitten with Annie, but she barely spared him a glance on a good day, and Reiner was clearly pining after his best friend Bertholdt, despite how hard he tried to hide it. From what Hitch had gathered, the three were old family friends, so they gravitated towards each other naturally.

Hitch was dragged out of her musings by a sudden bang on the classroom door. She looked up, and saw a certain brown-haired boy bashing his fist against the doorframe.

“Armin!” Eren Yeager called out, “What’s taking you so long man, I don’t feel like lining up for my lunch forever!”

A head of black hair poked over his shoulder and grimaced slightly in Armin’s direction. “It’s only been a minute since the bell went, Eren,” Mikasa Ackerman chided. Armin laughed and apologised, grabbing his bag and joining the duo in walking down the hallway.

Hitch made her way behind them, keeping her eyes trained on the mop of blonde hair as he chatted animatedly with his best friends. Hitch was intrigued at how this small, unassuming boy had caught the attention of her ‘I-don’t-get-along-with-people-so-leave-me-alone-if-I-don’t-know-you’ friend. As far as Hitch was aware, she had never seen Annie and Armin interact outside of a classroom setting.

Armin Arlert was an interesting boy. In the early years of high school, he was quiet, but an absolute genius in the classroom, and it soon became commonplace for him to be topping every subject he took. But it was impossible to resent the kid for it, since he was so damn nice all the time and would happily assist anyone with their studies if they needed it. Though it also couldn’t hurt that Eren Yeager and, more scarily, Mikasa Ackerman, would beat the ass of anyone who dared look funny at the kid. By now, in Senior year, Armin had a little following of kids who he helped study in the library every week.

Hitch knew him as a part of the theatre club. He certainly didn’t look it, but he had a surprising amount of presence on stage for such a small boy. He was cute and short, with his classic blonde bob haircut that hung around his face. Armin had a sweet higher-pitched voice compared to the other boys, and was often cast to play younger characters, but he never seemed to mind, simply enjoying being part of productions.

Hitch entered the cafeteria, glancing around and spotting the person she was looking for. She made her way over and plunked her stuff down next to Annie, who was picking away at a pastry. The other girl looked at her, frowning slightly. She probably expected Hitch to continue teasing her about the Biology class. Hitch just grinned at her cheekily, pulling out her food. Other people filed into the space, and a few friends of hers and Annie’s sitting at the table with them. Hitch winked at Marlowe opposite her, who just looked confused, and waved at Pieck, who stuck her tongue out in response.

Hitch leaned over to the dark-haired girl, glancing at Annie. “I think Annie’s got a crush,” she whispered to Pieck. The girl gasped softly, hand clapping over her mouth.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Hitch nodded, still whispering so she wouldn’t risk a kick to her shins from the blonde girl. “She wouldn’t stop staring at him during Bio…”

Pieck hummed, lips parting to presumably ask who, exactly, Annie was staring at, but was interrupted by a smack, as a pissed-off looking Reiner approached their table, whacking Porco on the side of the head, who spat out his milk, as he passed.

“What the fuck, man?”

Hitch decided then was a good time to zone out their conversation as angry swearing buzzed in her ears. She looked at Annie. Her friend’s head was tilted down at her pastry, but Hitch could see her eyes were angled to look at something on their right. Hitch followed her gaze, very amused to see they were looking directly at the table where Eren Yeager and a certain one of his friends were sitting.

Hitch supposed it wasn’t that surprising Annie had taken an interest in Armin. He was extremely sweet and nice, and very intelligent. Hitch looked at him as he turned his head and laughed at something Eren was saying. Armin wasn’t bad to look at, she guessed. He had certainly grown up over the years, and there was more of a noticeable change that she could see in him after the summer. He had grown a good couple of inches taller, and he had lost some of the baby fat around his face, showing off his impressively sharp jawline.

Well, I suppose a late glow-up is better than no glow up at all, Hitch mused, a plan forming in her mind. She had made up her mind. If Annie was interested in Armin, what kind of friend would Hitch be if she didn’t become the best wing-girl there was in this lousy school?

Glancing at Annie and throwing a grin over at Pieck, Hitch stood, striding over to where Armin was seated. Slipping into the gap beside him, she ignored the break in conversation and bewildered stares sent her way, just focusing on Armin.

He looked a bit confused, but smiled at her all the same. “Uh, hey Hitch! Is there something you needed?”

Hitch glanced back at the other table. Annie was staring at her, eyes wide, a red flush creeping up her neck. Hitch smiled sweetly at her, and winked, before turning back to Armin. “Why yes Armin, there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“See, I saw the posting for the cast list for ‘Dear Evan Hansen’. I saw that you - “ she poked him on the shoulder, ‘ - got the leading role, huh? Look at you!”

Armin blushed, hand drifting back to scratch at his neck awkwardly. “Ah, yeah I guess I did,” he said, eyes glued to the table. He looked at her briefly. “You got Alana Beck right?” Hitch nodded. “Congrats to you too!”

Hitch smiled at him. He really was too pure for this world. “But there’s an issue, mister!” She poked him again.

“T-there is?”

“Yeah,” she frowned, sticking her hand out and flicked his long hair. “This is the problem.”

His hands jumped up to his head, clutching at the blonde locks anxiously. “My hair?”

Hitch nodded earnestly. “You turned 18, what… a couple months ago, and you expect to play Evan Hansen looking like that?” She looked him directly in the eyes. “You need a new look Armin, and I have just the plan for you.”

Hands still tugging at his hair, he looked back at her sheepishly. “I mean, I guess... I -”

“I told you Armin! I told you! That old hair is so middle school!”

Eren’s voice suddenly interjected into their conversation, his friend leaning around Mikasa, punching Armin in the arm. Armin yelped softly, rubbing the spot. It appeared that the hot-headed kid had been listening in, after all.

Armin glanced between Hitch and Eren, looking panicked. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping. “Okay, fine. What do you have in mind, Hitch?”

Bingo. Bless his willing heart.

Hitch beamed, slinging an arm around Armin’s shoulders. “I have a friend, Annie Leonhardt, she’s in a few of your classes I think, and she is a great hairstylist. I can ask her to cut your hair for you?”

Armin’s eyes widened slightly, eyes flicking to where Annie sat, presumably watching them. “Annie? Are you sure she’d want to do that for me?”

Hitch began to stand, ruffling his hair lightly. “Don’t worry, she’ll be at rehearsal tomorrow afternoon, and you two can organise it then, okay?”

“O-okay?”

Hitch smiled, waved, and began walking back to Annie. Her friend glared at her when she sat down. “What did you say to him?” Annie hissed.

“Oh, Annie, who said I was talking to him about you?” Hitch teased, “So you do admit you’re interested in him?”

Annie’s eyes grew even wider, and she began to stutter. “No, that- that’s not what I meant, I just-”

Hitch cackled, resting her hand on Annie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry Annie~, I’ve got you. See, little old Armin has the lead role in the musical, but he needs a haircut. And luckily for you,” she grinned, “I happened to recommend you as the person who can do it for him! So, I’ll be bringing you to rehearsal tomorrow afternoon, and you two can sort it out, okie-dokie?”

Annie just stared at her.

“What.”

“You are free tomorrow afternoon right?” Hitch asked.

“Uh, yeah, but-”

The bell rang shrily, making Annie jump. Hitch blew a kiss in her direction as she began to walk away. “Then I’ll see you after class tomorrow then! Look forward to it!”

Annie just stared, a surprisingly open, shocked look on her face.

****

Annie wasn’t sure why she agreed to do this. But for some reason, she found herself following Hitch as they walked to the auditorium, after the girl ambushed her at her locker and dragged her away. Annie was sure Hitch wouldn’t really try to stop her from leaving if she decided she wasn’t going to follow along, but Annie couldn’t bring herself to walk away for some reason.

Her friend was too damn perceptive for her own good. Even Annie wasn’t entirely sure why Armin Arlert had caught her attention all of a sudden, but she couldn’t seem to keep her thoughts away from him these days. Annie knew what a crush was, of course, but she had never experienced it before, previously content to ignore basically all social interaction so she could graduate and get the fuck away from her restrictive lifestyle.

She had always tolerated the boy more than others in the past years; he was just too nice and innocent and Annie couldn’t bring herself to brush him off like everyone else. But since the beginning of Senior year (or maybe it was the middle of junior year, after his performance in ‘The Book Of Mormon’, she wasn’t sure), he became more present to her, for some unknown reason. Maybe it was the way his face had gotten sharper, stronger looking, or maybe it was how his extra inches of height seemed to fill him out more, defining his lean but toned body, or maybe it was the way she wondered what it might feel like to be cared for by someone who seemed to love so unconditionally.

Stop. Why would he want some nobody like you.

Annie shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts as she and Hitch walked through the auditorium doors. Hitch bounded off, spouting greetings to her fellow castmates. Annie was overcome with that uncomfortable feeling of ‘I am not supposed to be here’. She stood awkwardly, until Ms Ral, one of the assistant teachers for the production, approached her.

“Annie, what are you doing here?”

“Uh...” Annie blanked for a moment. What was she doing here? “I’m here to talk to Armin?” She sounded like she was asking a question. “Um, about his hair.”

“Oh yes, yes that’s you Annie!” Ms Ral broke into a wide smile. “Armin mentioned it to me before. I think he’s in the change rooms right now, but you can talk to him when he comes out.”

Annie thanked her, feeling a little less like a fish out of water in this environment. She contented herself by watching and listening to Hitch and a group of some other girls warm up their voices, getting a bit caught up as they ran up and down scales repeatedly.

“Annie! Hey! Thanks for coming!”

She was jolted out of her stupor by the voice of the boy she came here for. Armin was dressed in a simple black getup, black jeans and a simple black t-shirt. Now that she noticed it, all the people here were dressed in black. It suited him, his t-shirt fitting him quite snugly, defining his lean torso.

“Annie?”

Shit. She was staring.

Pull yourself together Leonhardt.

Annie stood and managed to muster a small smile at him. “Sorry, yeah, you wanna chat about your hair now?”

“Sure!”

He gestured to a quieter corner of the auditorium, and she followed him and sat down crossed legged on a big fuzzy box thing. He sat directly next to her, meaning she had to turn her body to face him. She cursed her feelings for making her feel so damn nervous when she was near him.

They didn’t speak for a moment, just glancing to and away from each other awkwardly. Annie decided to suck it up, asking, “Uh, so do you know how you wanna cut it?”

“O-oh yeah!” he sounded flustered, hand reaching up to run through his locks. “I talked to Mikasa, and she thinks that having it short, kinda like Eren’s, but with like an undercut kinda thing?”

Annie tilted her head, trying to picture it. Not bad, Mikasa. She could see it.

“Yeah. Yeah I think that’ll work… I can do that.”

His eyes brightened almost comically, and he smiled so wide, Annie’s stomach lurched. “Really?” he gasped, “Oh thank you so much Annie, you’re the best!! I’ll pay you, if you want, I don’t want you to do it for free!”

Annie was blushing now at his offhand compliments, and she shook her head. “N-no it’s okay,” she mumbled, ducking her head. He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off.

“I mean if you want to get me something in return, you can… you can bring donuts..?” Her voice trailed off as her cheeks reddened even harder, her eyes refusing to meet his.

“Donuts?”

“...yeah, any kind really...”

Armin burst out in laughter. Annie couldn’t help the small smile that curled her lips as she looked at how damn happy he looked.

“Donuts it is then! I’m free on… uh let’s see,” he pulled out his phone, “I can do Thursday afternoon? Oh… is there somewhere you wanna take me to do it or..?”

“Oh no not really, I can come over to your house if that’s okay.”

Armin nodded tapping something into his phone, biting his lip lightly. “Yeah that should be fine. I’ll have to tell Grandad,” he mumbled, more to himself then anything, “But I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.”

He nodded, looking back up at Annie with a grin. He slipped off the cube. “Thanks so much Annie! I’ll see you Thursday then!” He jogged off with a wave.

Annie found herself waving back, a bubble of warmth growing in her chest. She heard a small ‘whoop’ from behind her as she began to walk to the doors. She turned, finding Hitch smirking at her, thumbs up. Annie frowned. Hitch just giggled, blowing her a kiss and winking as she turned away.

Even her friend’s teasing couldn’t pop that bubble of warmth in Annie’s chest.

****

Armin waited nervously by Annie’s locker Thursday afternoon as she packed her stuff away. He had caught her the other day and they had exchanged phone numbers. They had exchanged a few messages that day.

Thursday, 11:30 a.m. To Annie

hey annie! armin here!

hi armin

just double checking everything is ok for this afternoon?

yeah

cool! just wondering if it’s okay if we walk to my place? it’s only about 15 mins away

fine by me. meet me at my locker after 6th?

great! i’ll see u then! :)

“Ready?”

Armin blinked. Annie was standing in front of him, eyebrows raised slightly. She held a plastic shopping bag in her hand; Armin presumed it held supplies for cutting his hair.

“Oh, yeah, let’s go!”

Annie trailed behind him as they left the school grounds and he led the way to his house. They walked together in a comfortable silence for a while. The weather was pleasant, sunny with a cool breeze blowing at their backs.

Why am I thinking about the weather, of all things?

“Um, Armin?” He turned to the girl behind him as she spoke suddenly.

“I was wondering if you had your license? I wouldn’t ask, it’s only that I don’t, and I live on the other side of town, and I’m not sure how long this’ll take, so…”

“Oh do you need a lift?”

She nodded. “If that’s ok… I can just call a taxi if not, it’s no big deal-”

“No, Annie it’s fine!” Armin interrupted, “I don’t drive much because I love so close to school but it’s totally fine! In fact, I’d prefer to take you then have you go in a taxi after dark…” He rubbed his neck sheepishly at that, feeling a blush creeping up his neck.

Annie didn’t say anything for a moment, but when he turned back at her he saw a similar flush adorning her cheeks. “Thanks,” she mumbled.

Armin was saved from his suddenly scrambled thoughts - a result of seeing her pink face, he suspected - as they approached his house. He waved her up the driveway and unlocked the door, letting her through first.

“I’m home!”

He waited for the usual response from his Grandad, but none came.

“Hmm, he must be out getting shopping or something… okay, come upstairs then, you can drop your stuff in my room.”

Armin had lived with his Grandfather since he was four years old, after his parents left on a trip to Europe, promising to return after six months. They never did. Armin was too young at the time to understand they had effectively abandoned him; there was never a need for a missing person’s case or police searching - any police found them just fine and they simply refused to return home. He was put into his Grandad’s care after that, and Armin had never had the time nor the energy to really investigate or ponder why his parents had left him behind; he had always figured it was a thing to think about when he was older.

But now he had just turned eighteen years old, and any memories he possessed of his parents were just brief flashes of feelings and sound. He had pictures of them of course, but looking at them had never really brought about that sense of yeah that’s my family, the familiarity that came with being raised by someone lost on them and placed instead on his Grandad. His Grandfather had been willing to answer basic questions about his parents if he had them, but always insisted that if it was something Armin really wanted to pursue, he would have to do it himself. But Armin never did.

Maybe one day after I graduate…

They made their way up the stairs of the two-storey house, and Armin let them into his room. Annie stood in the doorway for a moment and just stared.

It was a fairly normal room, Armin thought, with blue-painted walls and the usual furniture; a double bed with similarly blue covers; a desk with a monitor and a PC computer that glowed with multicoloured parts; and a bookcase filled with a range of books. Seeming to realise she was staring, she walked in and placed her bag next to his desk, and slipping off her shoes.

“It’s nice,” she commented.

“Oh, thanks.” They stood there for a minute, awkwardness threatening to bleed into the moment, before Armin broke the silence again. “Should we go to the bathroom? I think Grandad left some stuff in there that he thought might be helpful.”

“Okay.”

As they entered the bathroom, Armin realised that there was something missing that might cause a problem. “Ah, we don’t have a seat or anything…” he ran his fingers through his hair, thinking. “I could probably get one from the dining room, but that might be too tall…”

“It’s fine, we can sit in the bathtub.”

Unsure if she was making a joke or not, he looked at her, bewildered. When they had held eye contact for a good five seconds and her expression hadn’t changed, Armin decided that she was not, in fact, joking.

“I mean if that works for you?”

She just nodded, setting her bag of hair supplies on the edge of the tub. She gestured for him to sit down. He clambered into the bath as gracefully as he could (he came this close to slipping over on his face and making a fool of himself), and sat down. Annie gestured at a towel hanging on the back of the door.

“Can I use this?”

“Yeah,” Armin nodded, and she grabbed it, swinging it around so it rested on his shoulders, acting as a makeshift hairdresser’s cape. She settled behind him, causing him to shiver when she ran her hands through his hair suddenly, pulling it back over the towel.

“So, I’ve got red and lime green, that’s the colours you wanted, right?”

“W-what?” Armin turned around to look at her. She deadpanned. They stared at each other for a few seconds. Then she broke into a breathy laugh, eyes crinkling with pleasure.

“Ah, Armin, that was a joke,” she giggled, hand moving to cover her mouth. “You should have seen your face!”

She continued to chuckle. Armin couldn’t help but join her; her amusement was possibly one of the most beautiful things he had ever heard. He resolved to try and make her laugh as often as possible.

She was still giggling softly as she began to run her fingers through his hair, feeling it out. They lapsed into silence as she grabbed a spray bottle, and she began to work, wetting it down and running a comb through the knots.

“You have really nice hair,” she murmured, “It’s really thick for a boy.”

Armin hummed, slightly lost in the way her fingers felt running across his scalp.

They lapsed into silence after that, the only words spoken coming from Annie as she requested him to move his head slightly to get the right angles. He couldn’t help his initial flinches as he felt her fingers run across his neck on occasion, couldn’t help the shivers running up his spine when her breath brushed against his skin. She would rotate around him, scissors and comb in hand, tilting her head this way and that as she concentrated on his hair, tongue trapped beneath her teeth as she snipped away. Armin was entranced by how utterly focused she became as she worked on him; it reminded him of how it felt when he got drawn into a good book, or lost himself when he was singing a song on stage.

Armin’s Grandad arrived home when Annie brought out the clippers, preparing to work on the undercut he asked for. Armin heard the door close, footsteps moving about downstairs.

“You here, Armin?”

“In the bathroom, Grandad!” he called out.

Annie paused in her work as the older man made his way up the stairs and appeared in the doorway. “Why hello there! You must be Annie, Armin mentioned you were coming over!” He smiled warmly at the girl. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too sir.”

“Will you be staying for dinner? I was just about to whip something up quickly.”

Annie glanced over at Armin. Armin nodded at her in encouragement. “Well, I guess if you’ll have me, sir, I’d be grateful,” she said politely.

Grandad clapped his hands. “Fantastic! I’ll set the table for three then!” His eyes landed on Armin, who was sitting in a pile of his own hair in the bathtub. “Looking good, Armin!” he chuckled, making his way back downstairs.

Annie went back to plugging in the clippers. They settled back into their quiet rhythm, the soft buzz of the clippers and Annie’s soft voice the only sounds permeating the room. Finally, Armin was roused from his dream-like trance - induced by Annie’s soft fingers running through his scalp intoxicatingly - when she unwrapped the towel from his shoulders and ruffled his hair slightly, leaning around him to look at it from the front.

She bit her lip, fingers brushing back his bangs. “I think it’s done,” she murmured.

They stepped out of the tub, and Armin hesitantly turned to face the mirror. His eyes widened, and he had to consciously stop his jaw from dropping. His hair was noticeably shorter, no longer in a bob framing his face. His bangs were the same length, falling over his eyebrows, but the rest of his hair was shorter, and it all fell over a short undercut. The result made him look… older? Less boyish? He wasn’t sure, but he knew that he loved it.

He turned to Annie. She was watching him with a nervous look on her face, obviously trying to gauge his reaction. “Annie,” he ran his fingers through it, marvelling at how different it felt. “It’s amazing! Thank you so much!”

Annie’s shoulders relaxed; she was obviously relieved at his reaction. She smiled softly at him. He felt something catch in chest. Suddenly, he wondered what it would feel like to kiss her. Almost trancelike, he stared at her and took a step forward. Her eyes widened slightly. His hand reached out with the intent to cup her cheek.

“Dinner’s ready, you kids!”

And just like that, the spell was broken. Armin and Annie flinched, the former jumping back almost comically, blushing furiously. Annie avoided his eyes, glancing around at the mess in the bathtub.

Fuck.

“Uh, don’t worry about that right now Annie,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, fingers gliding over the new undercut. “Let’s go have some dinner downstairs.”

“Okay.”

****

After a filling dinner of lasagna, with his Grandad showering Annie in compliments about how good of a job she did on his hair, Armin got permission to take his car and drop her home. Ducking into the fridge while she waited by the car, Armin grabbed the box he was looking for. He made his way outside, and approached the blonde girl leaning against the car door, face illuminated by her phone.

“Here, Annie,” he smiled at her, extending the box in his hands out at her. She took it, peeking inside. It was donuts, and her eyebrows raised in pleasure. “Payment and thanks for doing such an amazing job on my hair.”

“Ah… thanks, Armin.”

They hopped in the car, Armin easing it back across the driveway, and pulling out on the road. He was amused to see Annie eagerly open the box, examine the variety of donuts inside, before grabbing a plain glazed one and biting into it. She hummed in pleasure, eyes closed. It was possibly the cutest thing Armin had ever seen.

“These are good,” she mumbled, mouth still filled with donut.

He laughed. “I’m glad you like them.”

Armin was astonished to see her finish three whole, good sized donuts during the time it took for her to direct him to her apartment block. He pulled into the carpark, and she shifted slightly, balancing her donut box carefully as she grabbed her bags.

“Well, I’ll see you around then?” She stepped out of the car awkwardly, eyes lingering on him.

Unsure whether to walk her to the door of the apartments, he ran a hand through his new hair. “Yeah, I guess,” he replied, feeling awkward all of a sudden. “Thanks again for the haircut, Annie.”

She smiled a bit at that, and waved softly, before turning and walking to the door.

Armin’s mind raced. There were so many feelings that had become un-suppressed in these few hours they spent together, and now he couldn’t help but feel like he was letting some crucial opportunity pass by. Just as she reached the landing, he made up his mind.

Jumping out of the car, he called out to her.

“Annie!”

She turned, looking surprised. He jogged up to her, face burning.

“I- I, uh wanted to thank you again for today. I mean, uh, like this, I guess..”

Before he lost his nerve, he stepped closer, looking into her wide eyes. He leaned forward, and gently pressed his lips to hers. He felt her body tense up, but she didn’t pull away. A few seconds passed, and he straightened. She just stood there, and the look on her face reminded Armin of a deer stuck in headlights.

Shit. She didn’t want that.

He tilted his head up, grateful for the darkening sky that concealed his flaming face. “Uh, well, yeah. Sorry. Goodnight, Annie.” He turned away, feeling like an idiot.

“Armin, wait.”

Armin froze, shocked.

Surely not.

He turned slowly, and saw Annie placing her donuts and bags on the ground. She pushed her bangs behind her ears and strode up to him. Before he could process what was happening, she grabbed his shirt, pulled him down, and kissed him.

And just like that, it all clicked into place. He melted into her grasp, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other coming to rest on her cheek. She tasted sweet, the donut glaze lingering on her tongue. Her lips were softer than he could have ever imagined.

They stood there, wrapped up in each other for what felt like eternity, but was likely only a few minutes. Eventually, they parted, hands still lingering on each other, unwilling to let go. Annie gazed into his eyes, a slightly starstruck look lingering in hers. Armin was sure he looked no better.

“Uh, well, you’re welcome, I guess?” she whispered.

A wide grin split his face. Chuckling, he pulled her in again. And again.

Armin resolved to thank Hitch for her haircut suggestion as soon as possible.

#aruani #hitch dreyse #annie leonhardt #armin arlert #request #these three have the best dynamic #i love them sm

34 notes · View notes

mostlycompetentwriter · 5 years ago

Text

Domesticated

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut, language, some mentions of cheating (but not with the main pairing)

Word Count: 19,922 (I might break this up later on)

Summary: Marriage was something Y/N had been dreaming about since she was a little girl. But now, ten years later, she’s married to her college sweetheart, but their relationship isn’t entirely perfect. There’s the issue of her new boss, aka her ex-boyfriend Seo Changbin, and Chan’s younger brother Felix who insists on calling her Medusa. Yet, through it all, Y/N is positive she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Notes: Y'all are really out here sleeping on husband Bang Chan and I won’t allow it anymore. Because Chan is 100% husband goals.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

I slowly exhaled after disregarding my somewhat passable resume, courtesy of one of those sketchy website builders, to look at the interviewer who waited for my response, pen poised over his expensive notebook. I swallowed hard as I struggled to compose myself under pressure. Because there was a professional answer somewhere in the back of my useless brain, but a dozen other responses, far more honest than his expectations, were waiting on the tip of my tongue.

Such as:

Waiting at home for my husband because all I do is stare at the clock, counting down the minutes until he walks through the door. I kinda miss when we were in college and could see each other sporadically between long lectures, grabbing lunch at the Wendy’s on South Campus. Now, the most exciting thing that happens is the occasional blow job before we pass out on the worn mattress in our master bedroom.

Sometimes Chan will host dinner parties at the house for his expensive doctor friends. He won’t spare me a single glance while I rush to fill glasses with rich-tasting wine, keeping an eye on Han Jisung because he can’t take more than three refills before he’s trying to dismantle the house. I’ll also have to ignore the really old surgeon who Chan admires because he likes to touch my ass when I pass through the living room. Maybe I was suited to be a sugar baby in another life.

On the rare occasion when Chan actually uses his cock, he’ll pant in my ear the entire time because he’s worn out from long hours at the hospital. Chan will cum before me most of the time and I’m lucky if he’s cognizant enough to eat me out so that I can finally fall asleep from my post-orgasmic haze. Heck, I’ll even take his fingers on my clit if it means an assured eight hours of sleep.

Shit, I miss being young.

I cleared my throat, deciding on the professional answer because I highly doubt Seo Enterprises wanted to hire a desperate housewife.

I was sprawled out on the couch in our living room when Chan came home that evening. I barely acknowledged his rushed greeting, watching through narrowed eyes as he ran into the kitchen. “Babe,” came his anticipated whine. “There’s no leftovers?”

“I didn’t feel like cooking,” I said, turning over to bury my face in the throw pillows decorating the cushions. It really wasn’t that comfortable since Chan insisted we get the stiff, fancy leather futon as opposed to the appealing sectional that could actually recline.

“You didn’t cook?”

Chan’s voice was closer this time but I still ignored him, sensing an impending headache. “I had an interview.”

“That was hours ago,” Chan pouted.

I sighed loudly. “The interview went great, honey, thanks for asking.”

“I’ve been at the hospital since 5 this morning,” Chan went on, weight dipping beneath the couch at the opposite end. “I didn’t even have time for lunch because Jisung almost fucked up a patient’s IV.”

“Remind me again why he still has a job.”

“Because he somehow graduated from nursing school and has a license claiming he’s qualified,” Chan said. “Plus, he’s my friend.”

“You have shit taste in friends,” I said, protesting when his hand landed a firm smack against my ass.

“Minho tried to wreck the Corvette when he ran out of cigarettes.”

“Minho is loyal.”

“He still wants to fuck you,” Chan grumped. “Ten years after college and he’s trailing after your ass.”

“Darling, you don’t have to be jealous when I’m wearing your ugly ring on my finger 24/7.”

“It was my mother’s!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Bang Chan,” I snapped while grabbing one of my support pillows from beneath my weight, launching it at my husband’s head. Sadly, Chan dodged at the last minute, much to my chagrin, smirking as he dug his fingers into my sides, forcing loud, high-pitched giggles as we both unceremoniously fell into the spotlessly clean floor. “Channie,” I groaned as he rolled on top of me, pinning my hands above my head before deciding to offer me a sloppy kiss with far too much tongue. “You’re fucking gross,” I said, biting at his lower lip in revenge.

“Yeah? Well, you’re fucking sexy,” Chan purred, nuzzling his head between my breasts.

“Stop it, you oaf!” I grumbled. “My period starts tomorrow. My tits have been sore all day.”

“Maybe I should have a look,” Chan teased, a free hand working loose one of the buttons on my shirt.

“And what good will that do?”

“Well, I am a doctor.”

“You just want to see my tits so you have something to jerk off to in the shower tonight.”

“Shower with me then,” Chan suggested. “I’ll fuck you against the wall.”

“Will you have the stamina?” I questioned. “You poor thing, how can you get it up when you haven’t eaten all day?”

Chan frowned at my mocking tone. “Are you turning down my cock?”

“You’re only half-hard,” I said, lifting my thigh against the tight bulge of his scrubs.

Chan let out a sigh, but his smile was endearing. “What if I order takeout? Then we can fuck in the shower.”

“Channie,” I cooed. “You always know how to talk dirty to me.”

I stand by my belief that email was now an archaic form of communication, but the number of big businesses that forced their employees to make an account @ their company name was ridiculous. But if I wanted to find a job in this big ass city, then I needed to play by the rules. Surprisingly, my most recent application was progressing with far more success than I could have anticipated, and I had read over the new email from Seo Enterprises at least half a dozen times:

Dear Mrs. Bang,

Thank you for taking the time to interview with our staff yesterday afternoon. After carefully reviewing your file with our CEO, he has asked us to schedule one last consultation. Please let us know your earliest convenience.

“That must be a good thing,” Minho remarked, digging his spoon into my ice cream since his bowl was empty and I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him.

“I guess,” I said, formulating a quick reply because I really wanted this fancy, high-paying Secretary job. I mean, sitting at home all day was definitely not high on my list of accomplishments.

“What’s the hurry anyway?” Minho asked as he licked his spoon clean. “Bang has enough money that you could just smooch off him for the rest of your life.”

“That’s not fair,” I said. “I want us to be equals.”

“Wasn’t that the point of marrying a doctor, Y/N?” Minho asked. “Otherwise, you could still be screwing around with me.”

“Except we aren’t 18 anymore,” I pointed out, frowning in his direction. “And says the guy who works part-time at his sister’s pet shop.”

“Hey!” Minho protested, shoving his spoon in my face. “I’m helping the strays. Population control and shit.”

“So what? You’re snipping some dog penises, good for you.”

Minho sat back with a disgruntled sigh. “What do you want to do after this?”

“I’ll bring Chan some lunch since he didn’t get a chance to eat yesterday,” I said. “Interested in accompanying an old friend?”

“Not really,” Minho said. “But I don’t have anything better to do.”

I maintained a long list of places that I truly despised and the hospital was number one. I always tried desperately not to let it show when I visited Chan because it wasn’t really his fault. I had a bad history when it came to hospitals and the memories lingered like the permanent smell of alcohol that Chan brought home with him on his scrubs.

“Did you see that guy in the waiting room?” Minho asked after I checked us in at the front desk. “He was seconds away from bleeding out on the floor.”

“Don’t talk about blood,” I shivered, hurrying to the elevator while frantically hitting the corresponding floor number.

“This reminding you of Freshman year?” Minho asked since he was a total airhead and missed out on the memo where I specifically told him to keep his mouth shut about that stupid Frat Party.

“There are five reasons why I hate hospitals,” I said, holding up my hand in front of his stupid face. “Don’t make me spell it out for you.”

“Is Freshman year one of them?”

“Shut the hell up, Minho.”

A quiet chuckle resounded through the empty elevator while I impatiently waited for our stop. “You’re feisty today,” Minho remarked once the doors reopened.

I ignored the nasty linoleum floors, heels clicking with every step I took in the direction of Chan’s office. “I’m eating with Chan and then we’re never coming here again.”

“Agreed,” Minho said, keeping pace with me while cringing at the gurneys being pushed through the hallways at an alarming rate.

We had almost made it to the end of the floor when I heard a lazy voice call out my name from one of the surrounding rooms. I closed my eyes because I could recognize that voice anywhere since it basically haunted my worst nightmares. He might not know it yet, but Han Jisung was the last person I wanted to run into because maybe, just maybe, he was one of the five reasons why I hated this place.

“Guys!” Jisung gushed, smiling brilliantly. “I’d hug you but I just finished cleaning piss off the floor.”

“Jesus, Han,” I said, wrinkling my nose against the overpowering smell of ammonia. “Is Chan in his office?”

“He was supposed to meet with our new superintendent,” Jisung said, grinning like a complete idiot when he shoved his gloved hands towards Minho who now looked a few beats away from losing his ice cream.

“You’re really pushing your luck today,” Minho growled at him.

“The meeting room is the last room on the right,” Jisung said, finally proving to be useful for once in his life.

I grabbed Minho’s arm because he was close to decking Jisung in the face and I didn’t need the security guards to tell Chan that I let my best friend attack one of his nurses. “Come on,” I said, urging him away from the potential crime scene.

“He’s this close to finding himself with a bloody nose,” Minho complained. “You know what’s funny? I’m pretty sure Han Jisung wouldn’t even know how to help himself.”

“You’re probably right,” I agreed, straightening the collar of my blouse as I peeked in through the tight blinds obscuring the glass wall of the room Jisung had indicated. “There’s Chan...” I started, trailing off when I noticed that he was engrossed in deep conversation with an unfamiliar woman.

“Oh, she’s really hot,” Minho remarked, wincing when I shoved my elbow into his chest.

“Commentary is not necessary,” I said, folding my arms across my chest as I tapped my foot against the floor. Who the hell did this bitch think she was?

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” Minho teased and I swallowed my pride, trying to ignore the way she reached out to touch Chan’s arm.

Thankfully, Chan finally noticed me outside, offering me a cheesy wave which I refused to reciprocate as he said something to the woman. I waited outside the door, attempting my best stern expression even if Chan completely ignored my efforts, encasing me in his powerful arms. “Y/N,” he cooed.

“Chan,” I choked out, struggling against his strength.

Minho snorted at the display. “I’m going to find the cafeteria. Text me when you wanna leave, Y/N.”

I waved him off once Chan eventually released me. I sucked in a few grateful breaths while holding up the takeout bag I had brought. “Is there somewhere we can go?”

Chan nodded, reaching for my hand. “Sorry I took so long, I was meeting with the new superintendent.”

I pursed my lips at that revelation. “She doesn’t look old enough to be a superintendent.”

“She’s around my age,” Chan said and I frowned because that just made everything worse.

The hospital’s staff room was small, the smell of coffee heavy in the air as Chan closed the door behind us. “Nobody should come in.”

“Good,” I said, choosing the only table that looked halfway clean before sitting down with a sigh. “I brought you lunch.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Chan said, gratefully accepting the bag from me while he sat down on the remaining chair. I glared at him from across the table, watching as he dug into the cheap Japanese like it was his last meal on earth. “Is something wrong?” he asked over a mouthful of noodles. Something college Chan would have never done when we first started dating, but I suppose that’s what you get with marriage.

“I saw you were pretty close with your new superintendent,” I said.

“Oh yeah,” Chan replied cheerfully, stuffing even more food into his impossibly wide mouth. “She’s super smart. Like, Harvard graduate smart.”

“Of course she is,” I murmured. “Do you like her?”

“As a boss I guess,” Chan said, still horribly naive to the real problem. I cathartically drummed my fingernails against the surface of the table.

“Are you coming home early tonight?” I asked him. “I’ll fix your favorite.”

Chan’s eyes lit up because, despite the food sitting right in front of him, he always got excited at the prospect of another meal. “Really?”

I nodded. “I’ll put the good whiskey on ice.”

Chan sat back with a dramatic groan. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Where is all this coming from?”

“I’m just being a good wife,” I said, taking on a dismissive tone.

Chan grinned. “Do you want something, sweetheart? You know I’ll buy you anything.”

“No reason,” I chirped. “I just want you to remember how good am I to you.”

“Of course I know that,” Chan said, reaching across the table to squeeze one of my hands. “I didn’t just marry you for your beautiful face.”

“That’s not what you said when we first met,” I reminded him cheekily, enjoying the way his ears grew red. “Should I do a reenactment?”

“That’s not necessary,” Chan said, quickly dismissing the topic. “Did you hear back from your interview?”

“Oh I did,” I said. “They want me to come in and meet the CEO.”

“What for?” Chan scoffed, returning back to his meal.

“Well, I am taking on the secretary position,” I said. “Maybe he wants to make sure I have good phone etiquette.”

“Yeah?” Chan grumbled. “Or, he wants to make sure you look pretty for him so he has something nice to look at all day.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked him because I loved it when Chan got possessive.

“I don’t want some rich bastard drooling over my wife,” Chan said, chopsticks clenched tightly between his fingers.

“Yeah? Well, it works both ways, you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, Chan,” I sighed. “Your superintendent was totally flirting with you.”

Chan put down his chopsticks, eyeing me cluelessly. “No, she wasn’t.”

“Yes, she was,” I immediately countered, reaching down for my purse. “I watched her the entire time.”

“Were you spying on me?” Chan asked with a smirk.

“Minho’s probably waiting for me,” I replied instead, smoothing down my skirt as I stood up from the table.

“Don’t you think that’s too short?” Chan asked, pointing at my lower section as if personally offended.

“Work hard, honey,” I grinned, leaning over the table to peck him once on the lips, offering a cheeky wave on my way out the door.

My palms were sweaty and, despite my repeated attempts to wipe off the nasty residue on my skirt, the condition persisted. Hyperhidrosis, Chan might tell me, nerdy glasses falling down his nose. I grinned at a distant memory, one of the first dates I ever had with Chan. A younger, less confident version of my husband, frantically peeling his suit jacket from his body, complaining about the heat in the restaurant, only to cower moments later when he realized his armpits were totally drenched.

“Mrs. Bang?”

I looked up at the young man bowing in front of me. “Mr. Seo will see you now.”

I nodded, holding my tongue before I let the intern know that he sounded just like a passage from Fifty Shades of Gray. Oh, shit, what if I was about to meet Christian Gray in the flesh? Some sort of young, hot billionaire with the world at his feet, buying up other companies like they meant absolutely nothing.

It was a believable scenario, and I don’t know how I managed to get my feet to work, but I followed the intern with exaggerated steps. “The boss has been looking forward to this,” the intern told me, pausing outside the office door.

“He has?” I wondered, glancing around the grandiose lobby. Did I really make that much of an impression?

“You can go in now,” the intern smiled, politely holding the door for me as I wordlessly walked inside.

Of course, I was expecting something extravagant, considering the layout of the lobby, but I was still deeply impressed by the spacious, but oddly cozy interior. Could you really call this room an office? Considering how massive it was in size. I mean, was it really necessary to basically live in an apartment when you arrived to work every day? Complete with stylish hardwood floors that looked like something out of an edition of House and Home magazine. I’d bet my entire life’s savings that the CEO hired some kind of fancy architect to design the place because those engravings on the mahogany walls were quite difficult to achieve. “It’s nice isn’t it?” a disarmingly familiar voice asked, and I found the dark figure leaning against the desk in the center of the room, sleeves rolled up to show off his impressive arms. “I was surprised to see your application, Y/N.”

Fuck, Christian Grey would have been way better.

“Changbin?”

He met me halfway across the room, now completely visible beneath the low hanging lights, tan skin washed with a comfortable glow. “Shocked?”

“You could say that,” I said, suddenly feeling like I was 18 again in college, lusting after the object of my affections.

“Have a seat,” Changbin offered kindly, extending his arm towards the matching armchairs neatly tucked around the electric fireplace.

“Okay,” I nodded, unable to take my eyes off Seo Changbin as I stumbled over my heels like a complete lovestruck teenager meeting her musician idol for the very first time.

But, holy fuck, Changbin looked good. Why the hell did he not age or turn prematurely gray? I held back a whimper, eyes looking everywhere around the room except at Seo Changbin. How did I not put two and two together when I first got the notification for the Secretary position at Seo Enterprises? I mean, what are the chances that this Seo is my Seo...Or, at least, he used to be my Seo.

“Y/N,” Changbin said, flipping through my file with lazy movements. Where did he get those pants from? They fit him sinfully good, hugging his thighs and if I look close enough, the outline of his...“How are you?”

I startled at the question, drawing my eyes up to meet Changbin’s familiar gaze. “Oh, I’m uh..” I trailed off anxiously, trying to put meaningful words together because he was making the English language harder than it needed to be. “I’ve been alright.”

Changbin smiled and I crossed my legs because that kind of smile could literally drench a girl if he wasn’t careful. “I was really happy to see your name on my list.”

“Were you?” I asked, fingers digging into the cushion of my chair.

“I’m always happy to see a familiar face,” Changbin said. “It’s been a while.”

“College,” I choked out, completely out of mind with anxiety, like the time Minho stole my phone and made me think someone had stolen it, even encouraging me to call the number only for him to hang up every time.

“You’re still beautiful.”

“Changbin...”

“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s all in the past.”

“That’s right,” I said, wondering if now would be an appropriate time to snatch my resume out of Changbin’s veiny hands and flee the premises.

“And you’ve married Bang,” Changbin said, pointing to my wedding band. “Which isn’t surprising.”

“Five years,” I said, trying my best to think about Chan and only Chan despite the literal embodiment of my every erotic high school fantasy sitting right in front of me.

“This would be strictly professional,” Changbin said, holding up my resume. “You were our best applicant, but I thought you should know everything about this place before taking the position. Including me.”

“Is that so?” was all I could think to say in return to his unexpectedly thoughtful comment.

Changbin lowered my resume slowly. “The job is yours, Y/N.”

“I’d still have to talk to Chan first,” I said because there’s no way I could just start working for Changbin without Chan knowing everything about the situation. Unfortunately, I could just about anticipate Chan’s response.

“That’s fine,” Changbin agreed. “You can call us tomorrow.”

I allowed a shaky nod, wondering if Changbin knew how much of an effect he still had on me all these years later.

Chan might be one of the smartest men I know, but he was, at his core, just a man who was quite whipped for his wife. Like all men, he was a sucker for lingerie, which is why I slipped on my best matching set, squeezing myself in the little black dress that I knew he really loved.

The hem barely touched the middle of my thighs.

I was also cooking his favorite meal, the smell filling the kitchen pleasantly as I stood at the stove. My plan was quite simple: dress pretty for Chan and surprise him with his favorite food to soften him up. Maybe then he wouldn’t have a complete meltdown when I broke the news to him about my newest employer.

But I still shivered when I heard the door open. “Y/N!”

“I’m in the kitchen,” I called back to him, attempting several meditative breaths to try and keep myself together.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, freezing in the doorway as he undoubtedly took in the sight of his wife wrapped in a tight black number.

“I’m making dinner,” I said, flashing him an arrogant smile, amused by the way he openly gaped at me while still wearing his oversized doctor’s coat. A result of an excited, freshly employed Chan filling out his form request with sloppy handwriting.

“You look hot,” Chan told me bluntly, eyes glued to my body as he eliminated the space between us with a few quick-paced steps.

“I got the job,” I said, letting out a nervous giggle as I continued to push around the searing bulgogi with a shaky hand. “Consider this a celebration.”

“That’s great, sweetie,” Chan said, standing behind me to wrap his arms around my middle, pressing soft kisses to the back of my neck, roaming hands feeling my body. “I guess the CEO liked you.”

A hellish double entendre. “Yeah, he was really nice.”

“I’m glad it worked out,” Chan said, voice next to my ear. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to get a job or anything. I’m proud of you no matter what.”

Was it his intention to make me feel guilty? “Channie,” I sighed, turning around in his arms. “I have to tell you something.”

Chan cocked a brow. “What is it?”

“The company I’m working for...”

“Yeah?”

“The CEO is someone we know.”

“Is that it?” Chan chuckled, accent thick as those adorable dimples filled out his smile. “Who is it, babe?”

“He used to go to school with us,” I tried, hoping that maybe Chan could just learn how to read my mind and save me the effort of mustering some kind of courage.

“Minho?” Chan teased.

“We’re not exactly friendly with him,” I said.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but I’m not exactly friendly with Minho.”

“You jerk,” I huffed, half-heartedly pushing against his chest. “You really, really don’t like this person.”

“There aren’t many people I really, really don’t like,” Chan said. “Come on, Y/N, just tell me who it is. Are you afraid I’ll be upset with you?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Chan’s smile vanished in a minute. “Y/N.”

“Seo Enterprises,” I said. “The company name.”

Realization dawned across Chan’s face. “Are you saying...”

“Changbin,” I murmured, looking down at my feet. “He’s my new boss.”

Chan let out a rough exhale because he knew exactly who Seo Changbin was and I’m pretty sure he associated the name with deep hatred. “Are you fucking serious?”

I winced at Chan’s tone because he had quickly shifted from sweet, caring husband to angry, sinister Mr. Bang in the blink of an eye. “Yes?”

“The Seo Changbin,” Chan reiterated. “The guy you fucked for like six months Freshman year?”

“That would be the one,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze before immediately regretting the decision.

“Why the hell would you take a job as his Secretary?” Chan demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Normally, I would admire the sight of Chan’s arms stretching the thin fabric of his t-shirt, but now I was just intimidated.

“Because I really wanted the job,” I said. “And I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s a huge fucking deal,” Chan said, glaring down at me. “You think I’m okay with the idea of you working for someone you once told me you were, and I quote, definitely gonna marry?”

“But I’m married to you,” I tried, attempting a sugary-sweet tone that usually broke Chan’s resolve.

Except for tonight.

“Yeah,” Chan nodded, “You are, and I told you I would take care of you. I have enough money to support both of us, you don’t need to work at all.”

“Chan, you know I’m not comfortable sitting at home,” I said.

“I get that, Y/N, but Seo Changbin? I could get you a Secretary job at the hospital.”

“Channie, this is a position at Seo Enterprises. One of their biggest assets is New York Publishers! It’s like the perfect opportunity to get my foot in the door.”

“Y/N,” Chan groaned. “I can’t stand the thought of you working for Changbin under any circumstances.”

“I get it, Chan,” I said. “But it’s different than college. I’m married now, and Changbin is nothing more than my boss.”

“Does he really get that?” Chan asked. “I’m putting my foot down, Y/N. I don’t want you working for him, okay? You can call them tomorrow and say you’ve got something better.”

“But Channie!”

“No, Y/N,” Chan growled. “You can look for something else.”

I frowned once I realized Chan wasn’t going to back down. It didn’t matter that I wanted the job or that I had dressed up and cooked for him. For the first time since we met, Chan was refusing to give me what I wanted. “Chan, you really don’t have the right to tell me what to do.”

“I’m your husband,” Chan said, justifying his unfair demands with such patriarchal reasoning.

“Fine,” I muttered darkly, ignoring the way his hand reached out for mine.

“Don’t be this way,” Chan said, following me as I marched to our bedroom, slamming the door closed behind me. “Y/N!” Chan shouted against the door, knocking loudly on the wood. “This is my room too!”

“Not tonight,” I informed him tersely, opening the door only to harshly shove a spare blanket and pillow at his chest. “Goodnight, darling.”

“This is Y/N,” I said into the phone. “I’m calling about-”

“One moment, Mrs. Bang, we can transfer you to Mr. Seo right away.”

“But you don’t understand...”

“Hello?”

“Changbin!” I squealed loudly into the phone, wincing at my shrill tone.

“Y/N,” Changbin said pleasantly, voice as deep and gravelly as I remembered. “Is this the phone call I’ve been waiting for?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, making myself comfortable at the kitchen counter since I was a notorious pacer when it came to difficult conversations. “It depends on what you’re expecting.”

“I’m expecting to hear a confirmation,” Changbin said. “This is a perfect position for someone with your qualifications.”

“I know,” I groaned. “But I’m calling because I can’t take the job.”

“Really?” Changbin asked. “Can I ask why?”

“Chan isn’t comfortable with the idea,” I said.

“Is that so?” Changbin inquired, innocently enough. “I hope it isn’t because of college.”

“T-that’s not entirely why,” I stuttered because Changbin was apparently intuitive now that he owned some big, fancy company.

“I hope not,” Changbin said. “It wouldn’t be fair of Chan to keep you from a potential opportunity because of something like that.”

“It’s just a lot right now,” I said. “I haven’t had a job in a year. My last position was really good, but the company went bankrupt and I was laid off, so I’m just trying to be careful.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about anything like that here, Y/N,” Changbin said. “This is a great opportunity for someone looking for a fresh start.”

Did he read my Facebook bio?

“I’m sure it is, Changbin, but I can’t do something that would make Chan uncomfortable.”

“But he’s not the one taking the position,” Changbin pointed out. “I can assure you, Y/N, you won’t find another position like this.”

“God, you’re good at negotiating.”

“Take the job, Y/N. I promise you won’t regret it.”

I could blame it on my desperation later, but I actually really liked the position. It promised a lot, especially considering the publishing company attached to Seo Enterprises. That would be my ultimate goal, to spend my days reading promising manuscripts while sipping expensive Starbucks coffee.

“I guess I can’t say no.”

“Then I’ll see you on Monday.”

Message to Channie

I took the job. I’m sorry but the opportunity was hard to pass up.

It only took a few seconds for Chan’s contact name to flash across my screen with an incoming call. I muted the sound like a coward, ignoring him completely while I started the ignition to the Corvette. A one-year anniversary present from Chan who was somehow more excited than I was when he first handed me the car key.

I drove to Minho’s apartment because I didn’t want to go home and I really had nowhere else to go. Plus, at least Minho was a reliable friend who really didn’t care if I crashed on his couch while he shoved cheap wine down my throat. In fact, Minho might be glad to see me since he was constantly complaining about his new hours at the shop.

“You look like shit,” Minho commented when he answered the door, standing aside to invite me inside. I shrugged off my coat, tossing it against the wall before slumping down onto the cheap sofa in Minho’s living room. The only piece of furniture he could afford in his ridiculously small New York apartment. “What happened?”

“I took the job with Changbin.”

Minho’s eyes widened in surprise. “You did? I can only assume Chan is lying somewhere on his deathbed.”

“No,” I snorted. “I took the job even though Chan asked me not to.”

“Savage,” Minho exhaled and I rolled my eyes at him.

“It’s a great opportunity!”

“When do you start?” Minho asked, feet propped up in my lap as he made himself more than comfortable next to me.

“Monday morning,” I said, mindlessly taking the remote to scroll through his limited TV channels.

“And Chan is mad?” Minho repeated, glancing at me for confirmation. “Can you really blame him though?”

“Why?” I frowned.

“I mean, Chan’s been in love with you since high school. He used to trail after you all the time, but you only talked about Seo Changbin.”

“You’re not being a good friend right now,” I said, remembering with perfect clarity the image of a sixteen-year-old Chan, hair untamed and clothes mismatched. Chan was a constant presence in my life, even if I preened after another boy who certainly had no intention of remaining faithful.

“Go home to him, Y/N,” Minho said with far more seriousness than I was used to hearing from my still immature best friend. The same Minho who couldn’t find work for an entire year after graduation because he was too busy sleeping with any woman that walked on two legs, living with various girlfriends while slowly draining his savings account.

“Since when are you the voice of reason?” I grumbled.

“Well, we all have to grow up one day.”

I hated the rare occasions when he was right.

The house was eerily silent when I unlocked the door, spotlessly clean just as I had left it which made me feel bad because it meant Chan didn’t even try to eat anything. “You always make me worry,” I muttered, toeing off my shoes as I decided to check the bedroom.

When Chan had first bought the house, he wanted it to look as close as possible to the random design I had pointed out at the local fair when we were Sophomore students. The plaque had deemed it the “house of the future” and I was enamored with the idea of the future back when my whole life was waiting right in front of me. A big dreamer who was already making wedding plans the moment Chan got down on one knee and proposed with his mother’s wedding ring.

“Channie,” I whispered into the darkness, cautiously tiptoeing my way to the side of the bed where Chan was facing away from me, sheets tucked in around his waist to leave his chest exposed. “I’m sorry.”

Chan let out a sigh. “What are you sorry for, Y/N?”

“I hurt you,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I took the job with Changbin and I didn’t think about how it would affect you.”

“I fucking hate him,” Chan said, tone bitter and laced with venom. “I hate what he did to you Freshman year and I hate that he was the first person you loved.”

“Chan,” I sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I was really young and stupid back then. I should have never slept with Changbin. But he was just a fantasy, even when we were together, and I certainly never really loved him.” I leaned in closer, brushing his hair away from his forehead. “I’ve always loved you first. You mean the world to me and I’m sorry that I went behind your back to work for Changbin. But he’s definitely nothing more than a mistake from a past full of them. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Chan shifted from next to me, rolling onto his back. His eyes were looking at me like I was literally his entire world. “I’ll always worry, sweetie. You drive me insane these days.”

I grinned at the use of his pet name for me, reaching out to run a soothing hand along the defined lines of his stomach. “Don’t worry about me, darling, when you’re the one with a supermodel for a boss.”

“Fuck, we’re both screwed,” Chan said. “Does she drive you mad with jealousy?”

“Of course she does,” I said. “She has bigger tits than me.”

“Well, I like your tits,” Chan insisted. “Don’t even think about bringing up plastic surgery again.”

“It would be to your benefit,” I pointed out.

“And the detriment to my savings account. Plus, I don’t want some old bastard fondling your tits while he pumps silicone in your chest.”

“Of all the things to worry about,” I sighed. “Does this mean we’re okay again?”

“You could probably step on me and I would still thank you for it, sweetie.”

“What if I sit on it instead?” I asked, moving my hand down to squeeze his flaccid cock.

“Makeup sex?” Chan gasped. “You don’t have to sell yourself out like this, babe.”

“Yeah? Well, I want to,” I said while proceeding to straddle his waist, smirking when Chan’s hands instantly moved to my hips. It was almost like a magnet, the reaction automatic after years of marriage. “You’re already hard,” I teased, reaching back to palm him over the sheets.

Chan always slept in boxers which I certainly appreciated because it made the rare nights of our passionate lovemaking even more accessible. Chan lifted my shirt, groaning low when he saw that I was wearing nothing but a pair of satin panties. “This is why I’m already hard.”

“You don’t see me walking around the house in underwear,” I quipped playfully.

“It’s comfortable,” Chan whimpered, moaning when my hand found the smooth velvety head of his cock.

“Something you never did when we were dating,” I said. “I spent weekends with you in the apartment.”

“Wanted to make a good impression,” Chan grumbled, eyes closed as he rolled his hips in time with my careful strokes.

“So you don’t have to impress me anymore,” I said, glancing back at his cock, hot and heavy in my hand. “But I guess you still do.”

Chan moaned even louder at my words, fingers tightening in my wrinkled shirt. “Don’t make me cum yet.”

“Why not, darling?” I asked him cheekily, twisting my wrist just right, watching as a stuttered gasp fell from between his gorgeous pout.

“Wanna cum inside,” he said, biceps straining as he pulled me closer, kissing me with a desperation that only demonstrated just how gone he really was.

“Yeah?” I smirked, tongue tracing the ridges of his full lips. “I guess you deserve it after putting up with my bullshit all day.”

Chan nodded fervently and the sight was oddly endearing. It reminded me of when Chan and I first met in high school, a nerdy sixteen-year-old boy who had just transferred schools all the way from Australia. He had a thick accent, foreign and rich, just like the untamed mass of curls covering his deep brown eyes. Chan wore thick-rimmed glasses and he had a light dusting of freckles like the main character from Freckle Juice, one of my favorite childhood novels. He was nerdy and shy, sitting alone in the cafeteria at lunch and walking between classes with his shoulders hunched like he was afraid one of those horrible jocks would try to steal his bag again.

“Y/N!” he whined loudly, forcing me out of the memory.

“Alright, Channie, you want inside?”

I sat up on my knees to work down my panties, ignoring the way Chan’s fingers tried to interfere, pulling at the fabric like he could possibly make them disappear any faster. I grabbed the hem of his boxer shorts, teasingly pulling them down his thighs before brushing a kiss across the weeping tip of his cock, precum bitter on my tongue. For a moment, I admired his thick erection, remembering how nervous Chan was the very first time we had sex back before we were even old enough to drink alcohol.

I held his cock as I positioned myself over his lap. “I’ll do all the work tonight,” I said, listening to Chan’s sweet moans the entire time I slowly lowered myself onto his cock, enjoying the way he always filled me so deeply.

“Oh yeah, sweetie,” Chan grunted, hips moving messily as he tried to find a rhythm. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

“Really?” I asked, swallowing down a moan when Chan hit just right, movements growing more and more confident as I returned every thrust. “I thought I was in charge tonight.”

Chan’s hands gripped my waist firmly, eyes wide open as he focused on where we were connected. “I’m always in charge.”

“Definitely,” I said, bracing my hands against his firm chest for balance because I was weak for this version of Chan. A complete contradiction to the one I first started dating, sweetly doting as he did everything in his power to make me happy. An image of a beautifully innocent Chan looking up from his position between my thighs. “It’s good?”

“So good,” I whispered aloud, peppering kisses across the pale expanse of Chan’s creamy skin, laving my tongue against a sensitive nipple which forced a temporary break from his regular tempo.

“Don’t play dirty, sweetie,” Chan said, giving me no warning before he was pushing me onto my back, hovering over me with his irresistible bedroom eyes. His hands spread my thighs wide, giving himself more room to fuck inside, movements growing faster with every step closer to what was beginning to feel like an intense orgasm. I’m talking about the kind that I could feel between my legs for days after I tried to walk straight again. “Do I need to touch you?”

“Fuck, I think you’re doing just fine,” I said. “Where the hell did this come from?”

“You woke up my competitive side,” Chan said, hitting deep like we were suddenly 20-years-old again sneaking quickies between lectures. Back then, Chan could literally fuck me against a wall, my legs wrapped around his gorgeous hips while he knocked the breath out of my lungs. Thank god, Chan decided that college would be his glory years, working out aggressively in the gym until he had muscles filling out the places where he had previously been soft. But I would always miss his pudgy stomach, even if his ass was now something out of a porn magazine.

“Well fuck,” I moaned. “I’ll have to do this more often.”

“I’d do it all the time if I wasn’t working until 3 in the morning at the hospital,” Chan said.

“Good point, should I come in at lunch then? You can lock us in one of the empty rooms.”

“Oh shit, sweetie, you shouldn’t talk that way,” Chan growled and it was one of the sexiest sounds I had ever heard.

“I’m close,” I warned him, digging my fingers in his scalp as his teeth teased against my collarbone.

“Me too,” he said, breaths uneven as he punctuated his words with a series of harsh ruts that sent my eyes rolling into the back of my skull. His fingers found my clit, thumb pressing down hard enough to trigger one of the best orgasms I had experienced in a long time.

I tightened around his stuttering cock, moaning when I could feel his cum deep inside, warm and wet. “Shit, you’re so good at that.”

Chan pulled out slowly, eyes growing wide at the sight of his cum leaking down my ass. “Left a fucking mess though.”

“We can shower later,” I said, grabbing his arm to encourage him to lie down next to me, burying my face against his chest, scarlet-red from the exertion.

“Was the dick that good?” Chan teased, running his fingers soothingly along my spine.

“Your dick is that good,” I replied. “The genetics are strong.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my parents,” Chan said, giggling as I shot him a warning glare. “I love you, sweetie.”

“Mmm, I love you more.”

1 Week Later

Lee Felix is the spawn of the devil and nobody could convince me otherwise. Because ever since we first met, when Chan invited me over to his house for a project, Felix had decided that I was his number one enemy, deeming me “Medusa” because he was enamored with Greek Mythology. But the unfortunate nickname had stuck throughout the years, even when Felix visited our college between breaks, forcing me to sleep on the couch while he shared the bed with his step-brother.

Recently, Felix had just finished his Master’s program for some kind of fancy Philosophy degree that would probably do him absolutely no good in the real world. But Chan was proud of his baby brother, inviting him to stay with us after graduation until Felix could stand on his own two feet. The decision was met by my instantaneous protest leading to an argument that I inevitably lost because Chan was still using Changbin as a winning point. However, even before my employment with Seo Enterprises, Felix was the cause of at least 95% of our arguments and I was not exaggerating in the slightest.

The sound of the doorbell ringing was suddenly a lot louder than I remember. “Death is here,” I said solemnly, ignoring the way Chan scoffed at my claim. I followed behind him somberly as he opened the door, letting out an excited cheer when he saw Felix waiting on the other side. Felix dropped his bag and practically screamed, which would likely wake up the entire neighborhood, jumping into his brother’s arm as the two embraced right in the middle of my foyer.

“Could you be any louder?” I snarled at the younger Bang.

“Maybe I could, Medusa,” Felix shot back, eyes narrowed as he picked up his bag.

“Come on, Felix,” Chan said, nodding at the kitchen. “I bet you’re hungry.”

Felix nodded, putting on his best smile for his ignorant brother, shoving his bag harshly at my chest as he walked by. “You can take care of that for me, right Medusa?”

“You little bitch,” I muttered, meeting his glare with one of my own.

The only thing worse than going out with Felix was including Han Jisung in the equation. For whatever reason, Jisung and Felix always riled each other up, chugging down alcohol like it was fucking water or something. However, Felix wanted to see Jisung again and Chan never said no to his little brother. This is why I was currently seated next to Chan at a cheesy bar in downtown Harlem, listening to Felix and Jisung try to talk over one another as Chan looked on with fond eyes. The only good part of the night was the fact that even Chan had allowed himself to get a little tipsy which meant he was doing his absolute best to feel me up in public. I always found it amusing, knocking his hand away when his eager fingers started to trail up my skirt.

“Felix,” Jisung whined. “How can you say that?”

“Oi, there’s no way you can put Nickleback and Green Day in the same fucking category.”

I rolled my eyes at the stupid argument, smacking Chan’s hand when he started to finger the waistband of my skirt. “Chan!” Jisung pouted. “Tell him that he’s wrong.”

“Tell the philosophy major that he’s wrong?” Chan asked, accent on full display as he reached out to playfully ruffle Felix’s hair. “You can’t even answer the phone at the receptionist’s desk.”

Felix loved the attention and I hated it when he came over only to occupy Chan’s every waking hour with his never-ending thirst for affection. But I wasn’t going to let him get away with it tonight. I cleared my throat, stretching my arms back behind my head because I knew how good it would make my breasts look in the rather low-cut shirt I had chosen for tonight’s affair. I glanced over at Chan, smiling victoriously when I saw the way his eyes had glued themselves to my chest. Even Han Jisung was looking, which would normally annoy me to no end, but I was putting on my best behavior tonight. “Chan!” Felix shouted, trying to regain his brother’s attention. “Did you hear that I scored the highest honors on my research project?”

And just like that, Chan’s attention was redirected to Satan, eyes glowing with pride. “That’s amazing, Felix!”

“I can tell you all about it,” Felix said arrogantly, tossing me a cocky smile which left me absolutely incensed. “The board was so impressed, they offered to publish my results in the University’s magazine.”

“Are you serious, Felix?” Jisung asked which was an even bigger blow because the only two things occupying Jisung’s thoughts were women and alcohol.

So I decided to push my luck, tugging down my skirt before shifting over in the booth to plant myself directly on Chan’s lap, wrapping my arms around his neck before nuzzling into his warm chest. “Channie,” I cooed while glaring at Felix from the corner of my eye.

“Do you want something, sweetie?” Chan asked, smile blinding as one hand wrapped around my waist, leaving the other to tease the bare skin of my thighs.

I reached for Chan’s beer, shoving the glass at him because nothing made Chan hornier than thighs and alcohol. “Should I come to see you at work tomorrow? Like we talked about before?”

Chan’s eyes lit with recognition and I smirked victoriously when I felt him grow hard in his tight jeans. “I’d really like that.”

And to seal my victory, I leaned forward to kiss my intoxicated husband, ignoring the sloppy way he reciprocated, breath musty with the taste of beer. Felix growled lowly from across the booth and Jisung let out a wolf whistle at our blatant display. But I was on cloud nine, satisfied to have won Chan’s attention because it meant Felix was going to be quite unhappy for the rest of the night.

“Medusa, aren’t you going to make me breakfast?”

I groaned as I glanced over at the alarm clock which informed me that it was only 9:00 AM. “Fuck, Felix, go back to sleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” he whined, reaching across the bed to tug on my arm.

“It’s Saturday,” I hissed, barely clinging to the wonderful promise of more sleep which would do wonders for my hungover state.

“Chan wouldn’t be happy with you,” Felix reminded me. “Should I call him at work?”

“Get out of here you little maggot,” I snapped. “I’ll fix you some damn breakfast.”

“Now!” Felix ordered like he had every right to make demands of me, but I didn’t want Felix to say anything to Chan because that would only lead to another needless argument.

“You’re a fucking menace,” I said, throwing off my bedsheets while briefly mourning the loss of my precious sleep. But I don’t want anyone to ever say that I was a bad wife, especially when I put up with Lee Felix just to make Chan happy.

Felix was already seated at the counter when I finally drug myself out of my bedroom, groggily reaching for a clean pan from the cabinet. “You get eggs and bacon,” I told him. “I’m not a gourmet chef.”

“Whatever,” Felix said, ignoring me completely in exchange for his cell phone. Which Chan was now paying for to help “lessen Felix’s financial burden.”

“Chan,” I remember telling him. “You’ll spoil him if you keep doing things like that. He’ll never want to leave!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Chan had shot back as if the idea of living with his younger brother for the rest of our married life was perfectly acceptable.

“A million things,” I muttered now, cracking one of the eggs against the side of the pan.

“I hear you’re working for Seo Changbin,” Felix abruptly spoke up, and I could practically feel his eyes on me. “He cheated on you, right?”

“It’s really none of your business,” I informed him brusquely, grabbing a spatula while wondering if I could teach Felix a lesson if I hit him a few times.

“My brother isn’t happy,” Felix continued as if my warning meant nothing to him. Probably because it didn’t. “I think it’s a bad idea, but your satisfaction always comes first, right?”

“Why the fuck did Chan tell you this?” I gritted out while aggressively slamming the fridge closed, pack of bacon gripped tightly in my hand.

“He tells me everything,” Felix said smartly. “Because he trusts me.”

“Good for you,” I huffed over my shoulder. “I’m glad you have such a close relationship with your brother.”

“Jealous?” Felix taunted, expression smug when I roughly placed down a glass in front of him.

“Is orange juice, okay?” I asked him in a faux sweet voice.

“It’s fine,” Felix shrugged. “But whatever is most inconvenient for you.”

“What a sweet little boy you are,” I said, pouring him a generous amount. “How long do you plan on staying here?”

“Chan says I can stay for as long as I want,” Felix said, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“Of course not,” I muttered. “Two Bangs are better than one.”

“That’s right,” Felix said brightly, taking a sip from his glass. “Ugh, does this have pulp in it?”

“Drink your fucking orange juice, Felix!”

The invention of video games was a godsend because they could occupy Felix’s attention for hours, leaving me in relative peace as I tried not to let him destroy every last bit of my resolve. I was currently having a bath alone in the sanctity of my bathroom, shoulder-deep in soothing bath salts which I kept well-stocked in the cabinet underneath the sink. The aroma was pleasant, sending me to a place somewhere far away to where Felix’s were strictly prohibited.

For the entirety of the day, Felix had been doing his best to get on my nerves. I cooked him breakfast and lunch, cleaned his disgusting laundry, and even held my tongue when he requested I drive him to the mattress store because the guest bedroom was unsatisfactory. But it had always been like this between us, ever since the day I first met Felix and tried my best to make a good impression. Unfortunately, Felix idolized his older brother, deeming any girl unworthy of his time and efforts, including myself. Of course, above anyone else, Felix thought I was the worst possible choice, reminding me every second that his brother deserved someone smarter, richer, and prettier.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated loudly on the edge of the bathtub and I hesitantly glanced at the screen, half-expecting to see Felix’s name displayed like a caution sign. Surprisingly, it was Chan who had sent me a message to ask where I was, which meant Felix had lied through his teeth and said I’d gone somewhere.

To Channie

Bathroom.

It was only a moment or two later when the door opened and Chan stuck his head inside, offering me a pleasant smile as he locked the door behind him. “You’re home early,” I remarked, vacantly staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s Saturday night,” Chan reminded me. “I thought the three of us could go out to eat.”

I groaned in protest. “What about takeout?”

“You love going out,” Chan said. “I’ll even let you pick the restaurant.”

“I have way too many problems right now,” I said. “I’m avoiding them by staying in the water for as long as I can.”

“Sweetie,” Chan said, taking a step closer. “You should’ve waited for me.”

“Why?” I asked him airily. “You’re one of those problems.”

“Me?” Chan asked, choosing to sit down on the edge of the tub. “What did I do wrong?”

“No arguments tonight,” I said, letting out a deep sigh. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been all day.”

“Aren’t you being overdramatic?” Chan asked, reaching down to flick a trail of water in my direction. “I was in surgery for 6 hours today.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve dealt with Felix since 9 this morning.”

“Ah,” Chan sighed. “I figured it had something to do with my brother.”

“Just forget it,” I whined. “You know we don’t get along.”

“I do know that,” Chan said. “But I wish you both made a better effort. We’re family after all.”

I shivered at the idea of Felix belonging to any family of mine. “You can keep him on your side, then. I grew up as an only child, look at how much better I turned out for it.”

“You told me you had imaginary friends growing up because you were so lonely,” Chan teased.

“Asshole,” I muttered. “That’s sensitive information that I told you in confidentiality. You should know all about patient-doctor confidentiality. Didn’t you have a whole lecture on it?”

“Y/N,” Chan lightly chastised, reaching for a towel on the rack next to the counter. “Get dressed, we’re leaving in an hour.”

“You’ve condemned me to death,” I complained, watching through lidded eyes as he stretched out his arms.

“I’m serious, Y/N, at least try to get along for my sake.”

“That’s all I ever do,” I muttered to his retreating form.

Hwang Hyunjin is a willing accomplice to the devil himself who never misses an opportunity to throw out some lascivious comments about my appearance. He was Felix’s best friend and partner in crime, sharing his goal of making my life as miserable as possible. He was also coming out to eat with us tonight and no matter how much I whined to Chan, he remained adamant that Felix should spend some time with his friends. “He’s only young once,” Chan told me, ignoring the way I glared at him with every ounce of hostility that I could muster.

“Did you paint those pants on, Y/N?” Hyunjin asked the minute he sat down in the backseat next to Felix.

“I did, actually, thanks for the unnecessary observation,” I told him shortly, still focused on the staring contest I was having with Felix in the rearview mirror.

“Don’t mind her, she’s probably on her period,” Felix said and I took in a deep breath because I was very close to turning around in my seat to choke the life out of Felix’s pencil neck.

“How have you been, Hyunjin?” Chan asked, one hand on the steering wheel as he calmly navigated us through the permanent traffic of New York.

“I applied for a job with Amazon,” Hyunjin replied. “I don’t wanna brag, but I definitely nailed the interview.”

“Yeah right,” I muttered under my breath. Hyunjin had the worst people skills in the history of mankind. He was almost as incompetent as Han Jisung, but ten times worse because of his sarcastic attitude.

“You’ll get me Amazon Prime for free, right bro?” Felix giggled and I resisted the urge to mock the sound.

“I’m proud of you, Hyunjin,” Chan said. “I know you worked hard.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Hyunjin said. “But the chick who interviewed me was really hot and I think I appropriately swept her off her feet.”

“Big tits?” Felix asked because that’s all those stupid boys cared about.

“Of course,” Hyunjin said. “But I’m still waiting for you, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Felix scoffed. “You could do better than Medusa.”

“How about some music?” I snapped loudly, reaching down for the radio knob to block out the sounds of Felix and Hyunjin’s voices.

Monday mornings were the worst thing to ever happen to mankind next to Lee Felix. I was sipping at my morning coffee, cold now because Felix had spent way too much time ordering me around the kitchen before I left home. But it was better than nothing and I desperately needed caffeine to get through the day. “Morning, Y/N,” Changbin greeted me smoothly, suit well-pressed and fitted to hug his arms and thighs just right.

“Sure,” I said in reply, trudging to my chair in slow motion.

“Are you always this lively in the mornings?” Changbin remarked, leaning against my desk as he looked through his mail.

“Just on Mondays,” I said, booting up my computer so that I could answer the dozens of emails likely waiting for me, most of which would come from annoying sponsors who wanted Changbin to be on their dumb podcast.

“Well, you still look gorgeous,” Changbin said.

My cheeks flushed at his comment. “You still need to call Mr. Kim back, he’s left another voicemail.”

“Just one call?” Changbin smirked, eyes dancing dangerously. “Have you been scaring everyone off, Y/N?”

“I did just as you asked, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir,” Changbin chuckled, carefully engrossed in his cell phone now as he graciously returned to his own office.

I shivered as I glanced at my computer screen. Changbin was still as notoriously flirtatious as he had been when we were younger. In fact, it might be worse now that he had finally grown into his sharper features which made him look ridiculously attractive. “I love Chan, I love Chan,” I quietly repeated to myself, even as a distant memory suddenly forced itself back into consciousness.

An 18-year-old Seo Changbin walking inside my lecture hall wearing a dark button-up tucked into the tightest pair of skinny jeans he probably owned. Every eye in that lecture room had suddenly turned to him because he was an irresistible force, impossible to ignore. “Y/N?”

Be cool Y/N, I softly chastised myself as I offered him a friendly smile. “Hi, Changbin.”

It was purely coincidental that Changbin had ended up at the same University as me, but that didn’t stop my fragile teenage heart from declaring it as something akin to fate. “It’s been a while,” Changbin said, pulling out the chair next to mine.

I swallowed hard because my mouth was as dry as a desert. “I didn’t know you were enrolled here.”

“It was my first pick,” Changbin said. “My father is an alumnus.”

“Really?” I asked, ignoring the arrival of the professor in exchange for mapping out every single one of Changbin’s gorgeous features.

“This class is just for gen ed,” Changbin said, pushing a hand through his neatly styled black hair.

“Oh, same for me,” I nodded. “I heard it was pretty easy.”

“Is that right?” Changbin asked while flashing me an award-winning smile. Roll out the red carpets because this boy was cool enough to be in an action film co-starring Tom Holland and Ancel Elgort.

But what were we talking about? “I’m majoring in English.”

“Political Science,” Changbin returned. “And Business.”

I deflated a little because, in comparison to my lousy arts degree, Changbin seemed like a certified genius. He would be educated in the art of entrepreneurship and big money while I struggled to comprehend the meaning of Great Expectations. “Have you met anyone else from high school?”

“Not yet,” Changbin said. “What about you?”

“Well, Bang Chan’s enrolled here too...” I started, only to trail off when I realized that Changbin probably had no idea who Chan was since he never paid attention to him in high school. Actually, Changbin would have been more likely to join the football jocks who liked to steal Chan’s stuff only to tie his underwear to the flagpole outside the gym.

“The nerdy Australian kid?” Changbin chuckled. “That sucks.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage since Changbin obviously didn’t know that Chan and I were friends.

“You don’t hang out with him, do you?” Changbin asked, peering at me closely like I was seconds away from losing the honor of his company.

“We have lunch sometimes,” I said, which was only partially true since I did like to meet up with Chan in the dining hall around 2:00 because it was never crowded. But Changbin didn’t need to know that I had spent the night in Chan’s apartment listening to him record one of his mixtapes because Chan had a newfound interest in music.

“You could do better,” Changbin sighed. “Hang out with me instead. I’ll treat you to the nicest fast food joint on campus.”

My heart was racing, palms clammy as I nodded my head rapidly. “Lunch?”

“Whatever you want, love,” Changbin said, close proximity knocking every rational thought clean out of my head.

It was like my best fantasy coming to life right before my very eyes, and after our lecture ended I asked Changbin to wait for me while I made a phone call to Chan. “Y/N!” came his cheerful voice from the other end. “Guess who got to dissect a liver today?”

I wrinkled my nose at the nasty image. Chan was studying to enter the medical program which meant a lot of his daily life centered around the human body and all sorts of things that could go wrong with it. “Chan,” I whined. “You’re talking to someone who can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“I know,” Chan sniggered. “Does this mean you’re not gonna want to eat lunch with me today? You know I’ll pay, of course, I got a raise at the cafe.”

“Well,” I started, desperately searching for the right words. “I actually have to meet with my professor for this essay I’ve been having trouble with.”

“No problem,” Chan said. “I’ll bring you takeout for dinner. Doesn’t your roommate have practice tonight?”

I glanced back at Changbin with a guilty conscience. Why did Chan have to be so sweet all the time? “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“No liver talk, I promise,” Chan giggled and I hung up the phone before he could make me feel even worse than I already did.

“You want to get some lunch?” Changbin asked with his hands dug inside his pockets as he stood in front of my desk.

“Like, with me?” I asked warily because I wasn’t sure where the line stood on professionalism when it involves eating with an ex-boyfriend.

“Who else?” Changbin said. “I figured we could use a break from the phone calls.”

“I don’t know...” I answered hesitantly because Chan would probably lose his shit if he discovered I went out anywhere with Changbin.

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N,” Changbin said. “My job is to make sure my employees are well taken care of.”

“I guess,” I sighed, reaching down for my purse on the floor. “One lunch together won’t hurt anything.”

But Changbin seemed awfully smug, patiently waiting for me to gather my belongings, stuffing my phone with an unanswered text from Chan inside my side pocket. It’s almost like the universe was conspiring against me, doing its very best to try and force me into the worst situations possible. Here’s an irrational thought: what if Chan happened to decide to go out for lunch today? He might find me with Changbin and I couldn’t think of a worse scenario. Of course, I suppose it doesn’t necessarily have to be Chan who finds us. For example, if his younger step-brother was to suddenly wander in the building at this very moment...

“Medusa!”

Curse you, universe!

“Felix?”

“I brought us lunch!” Felix chirped brightly, holding up a picnic basket as he waltzed right up to my desk with far more confidence than necessary.

I blinked my eyes rapidly, unable to process the idea that Felix was standing in the middle of the company’s lobby. “Is it poisoned?” I asked, trying not to alert him to any possible wrongdoing.

Felix ignored me, turning around to face Changbin with a critical gaze. “Seo? Is that you?”

“Felix,” Changbin acknowledged, frowning as if he was the last person on earth he wanted to see, and I could share the sentiment.

“Fuck,” Felix cursed, taking a step back. “You still look really young. I was surprised when Y/N told me you were her new boss.”

“I didn’t tell you that,” I said, opening the flaps of the basket only to let out a disgruntled sigh when I realized he had only brought a bag of chips and a tray of cookies.

“And what are you doing these days?” Changbin asked.

“Freelance work, mostly,” Felix replied as if he really needed to lie to Changbin about his lack of a suitable occupation.

“I forgot what you majored in,” Changbin said. “It was hard to keep up since you changed your concentration like a dozen times.”

I couldn’t hold back my laugh, even when Felix sneered in my direction. “Philosophy.”

“Interesting,” Changbin said, nodding his head. “I’m actually surprised to hear that. You never settled on anything.”

Seo Changbin needed to be careful because his charm points were dramatically increasing the more he mocked my husband’s step-brother. “I actually just finished my Masters.”

“Really?” Changbin said. “This coming from the same boy who used to party with Hwang Hyunjin at all the Fraternities, even if they were on a different campus.”

“It was just Freshman year,” Felix defended himself.

“Well,” Changbin started, “I’m glad to hear about your graduation. Y/N and I were actually just about to head out to lunch.”

I winced at his words, withering under Felix’s accusing watch. “Is that so?”

Changbin carefully studied the two of us. “I’ll be waiting in my car, Y/N.”

I grabbed my bag while pushing the picnic basket back in Felix’s direction. “I swear to god if you tell Chan about this, I’ll castrate you in your sleep.”

“We’ll see about that,” Felix growled, and that was the moment I realized that I was treading very dangerous waters.

Changbin drove us to a charming restaurant about two blocks away from the main company building. He pulled right up to the sidewalk, handing his keys to the waiting carhop as if he had done this about a thousand times. But I guess that was pretty likely considering just how well-off he was ten years later. “Impressive,” I remarked to him, reluctantly accepting his outstretched hand as he helped me out of his car.

“Yeah?” Changbin said, offering me a wink. “Maybe I’m trying to impress you.”

“You’re a dangerous man, Seo Changbin,” I told him, bowing slightly to the waiting doorman who kindly ushered us inside.

This was why the pretty girls always lusted after Changbin. When we were both still in high school, Changbin epitomized the phrase #BoyfriendGoals because he was super attractive, incredibly smart, and athletic enough to earn himself a shining record after an impressive baseball season. And I was just as mindless as the rest of the zombies chasing him down in the parking lot at school or squealing his name in the hallways between classes.

“I eat here all the time,” Changbin assured me, flashing the hostess a dazzling smile while handing her his card.

“Right this way, Mr. Seo,” the hostess curtsied, ignoring the long line of waiting patrons who apparently didn’t matter as much as my new boss as she led us to a private table. “Your waitress will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” I said politely, eyes wide as I took in the gorgeous chandelier dropping from the high-domed ceiling.

“Close your mouth, Y/N,” Changbin said. “You act like you’ve never been somewhere like this before.”

“Not exactly,” I said because the nicest place Chan had ever taken me was an Olive Garden and that had ended poorly after Chan accidentally knocked his shoulder against a poor server on his way back to the table causing an avalanche of salad and breadsticks.

“Bang should be taking you to places like this all the time,” Changbin commented, perhaps a casual observation to anyone else.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “Chan and I prefer to keep things low-key.”

“Should I have taken you to Applebees instead?”

“How funny.”

“I’m kidding, Y/N,” Changbin said, reaching down to adjust the buttons on his coat sleeve. “You’ve changed a lot since college.”

“Since we dated you mean?” I asked with an arched brow.

“Well,” Changbin started, “if you want to think of it like that.”

“Hmmm,” I briefly meditated, studying Changbin’s expression carefully. “How else should I think about it.”

Changbin tsked, raising a hand to signal for a nearby waiter. “I don’t mean to suggest anything.”

The waiter approached our table with purposed steps. “How may I help you, sir?”

“A wine menu?” Changbin asked, nodding generously when the waiter returned with his requested selection.

“You make a beautiful couple,” the waiter gushed while he pulled out a thick leather wallet, flipping to a fresh page.

“Oh! We’re not-”

“-A bottle of pinot noir, please,” Changbin said, returning the menu without bothering to correct the waiter’s observation.

“Right away, sir,” the waiter agreed.

I held my tongue until he was further away, bothering an older couple who were probably complaining about something to do with their food. “Changbin,” I warned him. “You should be careful.”

“It was a harmless mistake,” Changbin said. “How can I possibly come between you and Bang?”

I worried my bottom lip between my teeth because it sounded less like a dismissal and more like a challenge.

The sun was already setting by the time I returned home thanks to one of Changbin’s business partners who refused to leave the office building until they had a chance to speak to him. I was low on patience, tired from an exhausting day of dealing with telemarketers insisting our company needed the latest software for our clientele. There was only a limited number of times I could tell somebody to fuck off before inevitably shouting into the other end that I was in no way interested in whatever useless product they were trying to shove down my throat, complete with some kind of scammy discount and an opportunity to be represented on their website.

To make matters worse, my feet were blistered from wearing heels all day and my shoulders ached from slouching over my computer to answer emails and monitor the progress of Changbin’s latest project. My only saving grace was the message Chan had sent me earlier telling me that he had already clocked out at work, which meant I could probably guilt him into giving me one of his trademarked messages. I mean, all I wanted to do was curl up next to Chan in bed and sleep for the rest of the day.

But it looked like my desires would have to wait because as soon as I unlocked the door to the house, I could immediately sense that something was wrong. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously walked into the living room to find Chan and Felix busy with some kind of video game on our HD TV, volume high until I walked in the room. Chan waited until I called his name, reaching for the remote to mute the TV before tossing his controller onto the coffee table. From across the room, Felix’s eyes were alight with mischief.

“How was work today?” Chan asked with a tone that I only ever heard when my husband was feeling particularly pissed off about something, and I had a sneaking suspicion it involved me in some capacity.

“It was fine,” I said, deciding to play it safe while I kept my complaints to myself.

Felix smirked in my direction, whistling to himself as he reached for his game controller. “Felix told me something interesting today.”

“Oh did he?” I asked, wondering just how much pain Felix could tolerate if I marched over to him right now and hit him with an umbrella.

“He said he tried to have lunch with you.”

“I was busy.”

“With Seo Changbin?”

Felix was definitely going to die tonight. That little snitch deserved every ounce of punishment I was starting to formulate inside my head. “He invited me out instead.”

“I got that,” Chan snapped and I knew my husband was in a foul mood. I’m talking about the kind of mood that usually sent me scampering for the safety of the bunkers. Like the time some drunk asshole rear-ended Chan’s precious convertible while we were sitting in downtown traffic. Or the time when we were Freshmen in college and Chan confronted Changbin after finding out that he had been cheating on me.

But this time the problem was me which meant I couldn’t just hide from Chan and wait for things to go back to normal. “Honey,” I attempted to reassure him. “It was just lunch.”

“Yeah? But that doesn’t seem like keeping things strictly professional to me, Y/N.”

“He’s my boss now, I can’t just tell him no.”

“Actually, you can,” Chan disagreed, now refusing to look at me. “How would you like it if I ate with my new superintendent?”

“Depends on if she offered to pay or not.”

“Y/N.”

“Chan,” I pouted. “I’m really sorry! He just surprised me.”

“It makes me wonder what else you might be doing with him,” Chan snarked.

Meanwhile, Felix calmly continued to play his video game while wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. “Are you accusing me of having an affair?”

“Why not?” Chan shrugged. “Since we’re keeping secrets from each other.”

“It was just one lunch,” I shouted. “He’s never done anything like this before. Most of the time I’m alone in the lobby taking his stupid phone calls.”

“And that’s all I should ever hear about,” Chan growled.

“You’re making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes before remembering just how much Chan hated it when I did that to him.

“Y/N,” Chan addressed me sternly, deciding to abandon his seat on the couch to crowd me in the foyer. “If this was anyone else, I wouldn’t make it into a bigger deal, but this is someone you used to fuck while running around campus bragging about it to everyone who would listen...which was usually me!”

“He doesn’t mean anything to me,” I said. “I already told you that!”

“You’ve said a lot of things recently,” Chan said. “I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s your brother’s fault since he’s always looking to cause a fight between us,” I said, glaring at Felix while he continued to play the part of the perfect little angel that Chan always considered him.

“Don’t drag Felix into this, he has nothing to do with anything!”

“Oh, don’t be stupid, Chan,” I huffed. “We fight more about Felix than we do about Changbin.”

“Stupid?!”

Oh, Jesus, Y/N, when are you going to learn to watch your big mouth? “Channie, I’m tired of fighting all the time. I feel like we’re always fighting.”

“Yeah? Well, you give me a lot of reasons to stay mad at you.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I groaned. “We never fought this much when we were dating.”

“Is that so? You think our marriage is the problem?”

I froze at his implications. At this point, Felix might as well drag out a bucket of popcorn because this was probably the most interesting drama he had watched all year. “Chan, you can’t honestly believe that.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Chan said, shaking his head. “But maybe I’ll give you some time to think about it.”

“Chan!” I whined, fighting back tears as I watched him turn his back on me. For the first time since we had met, Chan was leaving an argument unresolved, choosing to lock himself away in our bedroom while I struggled to keep myself together in the middle of our foyer.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” Felix whispered into the silent room, waving his fingers at me because he had gotten exactly what he wanted.

Felix’s birthday often turned into a multiple-day affair because he always wanted the best that money could buy. Since Chan and I still weren’t speaking to one another, Chan was taking the brunt of party preparations which meant Felix was practically over the moon with excitement. And why shouldn’t he be? He hit the metaphorical jackpot because he somehow got me in the doghouse while he soaked up all of Chan’s attention.

“Y/N,” Felix whined. “My toast is burnt!”

“Sorry,” I murmured softly, taking his plate even though the bread looked perfectly fine. Meanwhile, Chan chose not to say a word, heavily engrossed in his laptop and doing his absolute best to pretend I was invisible.

“What about this, Felix?” he asked, tilting his laptop screen so that his brother could see whatever it was that probably cost hundreds of dollars. On the other hand, I couldn’t even find the courage to ask Chan for his credit card so that I could replace the broken stool at our counter.

“That’s perfect, Channie!” Felix grinned, hanging off his brother’s shoulder like the little pest he was.

Our Amazon shopping cart was steadily filling with Felix’s party supplies. But I guess it was just Chan’s account now since he had changed the password without telling me. I tried to order a new curtain for the bathroom, only to repeatedly watch the warning screen pop-up with every refresh of the page. “Who do you want at your party?” Chan asked Felix.

“Hyunjin, Jisung...” Felix started, listing out each name while I winced every time because our house would probably end up completely trashed at this rate.

“Whatever you want,” Chan said, apparently forgetting the last time Jisung came over only to break one of my grandmother’s expensive vases. Since it was my stuff, he probably didn’t care. “I have to leave soon,” Chan said, wordlessly clicking on the ‘place your order ’ button before logging off.

“Will you be gone all day again?” Felix pouted, jutting out his bottom lip and offering his very best puppy dog eyes.

23-years-old my ass.

“I’ll do my best,” Chan promised his brother. “Do you need anything while I’m out.”

“More chocolate cereal?”

10-years-old more likely.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Chan cooed to Felix, ruffling his hair before snatching his coat from my outstretched hand, refusing to even acknowledge my existence.

Felix waited until Chan was gone to lean in across the counter. “You two are so cute, Medusa.”

“I fucking hate you,” I said, aggressively attacking the grease stain on the stainless steel pot I was currently washing.

“Whatever,” Felix shrugged. “Will you ask Minho to come to my birthday party?”

“There’s not a fucking chance in hell that I’m asking him,” I snapped.

“Why?” Felix posed the question as if he felt absolutely no shame. “I like Minho and I want him to be there.”

“Fuck off,” I retorted, drying my hands against the rough texture of the dishtowel.

Felix sniffled, reaching for his phone and holding it up to his ear. “Channie? Yeah, Y/N was being really mean to me-”

“-Jesus, fine, I’ll ask him,” I quickly interrupted the little Devil. “How old are you turning again?”

“24!” Felix grinned.

“Then act like it,” I muttered while dialing Minho’s number.

There were only two rings before he answered. “It’s too early on Saturday for this bullshit, Y/N,” came Minho’s pleasant voice from the other end.

“You sleep too much anyway,” I returned. “I have something to ask you.”

“It better be pretty fucking important.”

“Will you come to Felix’s stupid birthday party this Friday?” I asked him, ignoring Felix’s bright smile as he tried to listen in on our conversation.

“Did you buy booze?”

“I’m sure Chan will buy the little bastard all the booze he wants,” I said, pushing Felix out of the way.

“What time?” Minho asked. “I’m a very busy man, Y/N.”

“The hell you are,” I snorted. “9:00 PM. Don’t be late! I’ll be the pathetic piece of trash sitting on the couch alone.”

“It’s about time you learn, Y/N,” Felix remarked, giggling when I threw the dishtowel at him.

“Still in trouble with hubby?” Minho asked. “I hear you have to stay separated for a year before the courts grant divorces these days.”

“You’re an asshole,” I said. “Should I put you down on the guest list?”

“Of course,” Minho said. “Underlined because I’m a VIP”

I hung up on him before he could dig his grave any deeper.

“Don’t burn that,” Felix scolded me, hovering by my side to play the part of Gordon Ramsay while I sweated my ass off to cook everything on his stupid party menu.

“It’s not burnt,” I grumbled.

“I hope you’re not wearing that to my party,” Felix said, casting a critical eye over my outfit.

I reached down to adjust the waistband of my skirt. “What’s wrong with it?”

“This is a classy party, Y/N, and you look like a hooker.”

“Go help your brother or something,” I said, doing my best to be nice since it was Felix’s birthday. I could manage some form of kindness even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Chan’s fine,” Felix waved me off even though I was certain I saw Chan struggling to hang up lights on the balcony just moments ago when I went to change my clothes.

I glanced at the clock above the stove. “Your fellow party animals will be here soon.”

“You’re not cool enough for those references,” Felix told me as he straightened his tie.

“I wasn’t trying to be,” I said, wiping my forehead with a nearby towel. My makeup was probably smeared but I didn’t care. Who was I hoping to impress anyway? The only person I dressed up for was Chan and he could care less about my appearance.

And it was only a few minutes later when the doorbell started to ring. I took a deep breath to try and reassure myself that I could make it through tonight without another Advil. “Someone’s here!” Felix squeaked, knocking his shoulder against mine in his haste to answer the door.

“No matter who it is, I’ll still be in hell,” I muttered, closing my eyes when I recognized Hyunjin’s voice mixing with Felix’s.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin sang, poking his head in the kitchen as if he owned the place. “There you are! Looking all pretty for us.”

“That was the goal,” I half-heartedly quipped back, turning off the stove once I declared Felix’s stupid Tteok-bokki cooked enough.

“Your legs look good,” Hyunjin said, abruptly leaning in closer. “Are you even wearing anything under that skirt?”

“Hyunjin!” Felix shouted his friend’s name from the living room. “Come check out the decorations.”

Hyujin blew a kiss in my direction, tossing me a poor excuse for a wink. “Bye, Y/N!”

Maybe one more Advil wouldn’t hurt.

The party was in full swing by the time Minho finally arrived, greeting Felix with some kind of cheesy handshake. It was too late for me and I had already resigned myself to the futon of isolation in the living room, mourning the loss of one of my good dishes thanks to Han Jisung deciding to request something fancier than our regular set. “Sorry, Y/N,” Jisung had apologized. “I’m sure you can easily replace it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my dead grandmother has another lying around somewhere,” I snarled in his direction, ignoring his wide-eyed look of disbelief as I searched for the broom.

Minho eventually finished his conversation with Felix, offering me a sympathetic look while occupying the last remaining chair. “Y/N?”

“Oh, I’m doing just fine,” I told him.

“You look miserable,” Minho informed me, throwing up his feet on my glass coffee table even though I had told him countless times before to keep his dirty socks on the floor.

“Chan hates me,” I said. “Felix is happy.”

“Ah,” Minho nodded. “Trouble in paradise?”

“It’s all Felix’s fault,” I sniped. “He found out I went to lunch with Changbin and told Chan because he knew it would lead to an argument.”

“He still doesn’t like you?” Minho snorted as if the idea were amusing.

“Felix has hated me since the beginning of time. He was brought to this Earth to cause me misery.”

“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” Minho said. “Where is Chan, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “If he wasn’t with Felix, then you might want to check the balcony. I think I saw him sneaking the Advil bottle out there earlier.”

Minho snickered. “You don’t even realize it, but you two are grossly similar. I’m sure Chan would have preferred a quiet dinner out somewhere.”

“Well, Felix always gets what he wants,” I said. “It’s been this way since high school.”

Minho considered me for a moment. “In his defense, Chan has always been Felix’s best friend. They’ve been attached at the hip since they were kids, but then you came into the picture. Suddenly, Chan isn’t as interested in spending all his time with Felix any more.”

“Are you saying I need to find Felix a girlfriend?”

“Y/N,” Minho said softly. “I’m just saying, maybe you need to think about things from Felix’s perspective for once. You were an only child, so you can’t understand what it means to share a close relationship with a brother.”

“Hmm, well you’re like a brother to me,” I teased him.

“Ugh,” Minho gagged. “You’ve had my dick in your mouth before, Y/N, please never say that again.”

“I was trying to be sweet,” I said. “But you ruined it.”

“Did I?” Minho smirked, glancing up at something behind me. “Are you having a good time, Felix?”

“We’re out of beer,” Felix interrupted, face suddenly mere inches from mine.

“You shouldn’t drink like a fish.”

“Medusa,” Felix tried again, holding out a ring of car keys. “Make yourself useful and buy us some more beer.”

I rolled my eyes but acquiesced. “Whatever you want, your majesty.”

I hated winter in New York City because the sidewalks were icy all the time and I was constantly in danger of rolling my ankle. Nevertheless, I tolerated the snow and wind by trading my heels for rain boots and wrapping my body in the thickest coat I owned. Normally, I might consider walking to the convenience store, but tonight I knew my fingers would be nothing but frozen icicles if I attempted that perilous journey.

Thankfully, the traffic was fairly light this late at night which allowed a relatively quick drive to the store, parking my corvette at the sidewalk. I walked inside with a muffled greeting to the store attendant, searching down the aisle to where the beer was stocked in the freezers. “He didn’t even tell me what he wanted,” I scoffed, deciding on the expensive Corona from the bottom shelf since Felix always liked things more when they cost a lot of money.

“Having a party?” the store attendant joked, accepting my debit card after ringing up the cases.

“Something like that,” I said, wondering if that was always his assumption if someone bought more than one bottle of the nasty smelling beverage.

Meanwhile, it had started snowing again when I walked back outside, popping the trunk to store the beer until I finally returned home. I switched on the ignition and turned on the heat to its fullest setting before sitting back in my seat to wrap my arms around myself, fighting off a series of chills. The action reminded me of Junior Year when Chan and I used to make late-night trips to the gas station near his apartment complex. We’d buy all sorts of unnecessary snacks, driving back together because we had planned a movie marathon of Harry Potter. Chan always complained about the films I liked, but he watched them anyway because he knew I enjoyed them.

I came to a stop at a red light, frowning when I noticed that nobody was coming in either direction. “Change already,” I ordered the traffic light as if it could possibly accommodate my request.

“I’ll teach you patience, Y/N,” Chan once told me after we waited nearly an hour in a heavy downpour outside the comic book shop because he just had to have some kind of rare edition figurine.

The traffic light eventually turned green and I rolled out into the intersection, never noticing the reckless SUV until mere seconds before it crashed into the side of my car.

I had the worst luck in the world when it came to relationships. First, there was my tired rendezvous with Minho in high school, blowing my best friend in the bathroom because he’d always fuck me with his fingers afterward. Then, there was that slimy bastard Seo Changbin who I willingly gave my virginity to, thinking he was the love of my life. That was before I found out he was cheating on me with some sleazy cheerleader thanks to a couple of photos surfacing on Facebook. My heart was instantly broken, pride in shambles as I spent an entire week hiding out in my dormitory ignoring all phone calls and text messages as I cried over a boy who never deserved my attention in the first place.

I plucked a few strands of grass from the ground next to my feet, savoring the first taste of sunlight I had allowed myself since that unfortunate discovery. Who the hell did Seo Changbin think he was anyway? Playing with my heart like that as if it meant absolutely nothing to him.

At least I wasn’t sad anymore, having spent enough time crying over the destructive boy. Now, all I could think about was smacking that stupid smug grin off his face while thoroughly purging my built-up frustrations...“Y/N?”

I turned around quickly at the sound of Chan’s voice, rising to my feet to brush the loose grass and dirt from my jeans. “Channie,” I said, nervously wringing my hands in front of me. Chan was probably mad at me since I had been ignoring him all week.

“Are you okay?” he asked instead, tone surprisingly gentle as he stopped in front of me.

“Not really,” I told him honestly.

“I didn’t think so,” Chan said, features hardening. “I’ll beat the shit out of Seo for you.”

I shook my head. “That won’t do any good.”

“But if it makes you feel better,” Chan said, reaching out to delicately swipe his thumb under my eyes. “You aren’t sleeping.”

It was more of a statement rather than a question, but I still felt the need to reassure him. “I promise that I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Chan said, offering me a kind smile. “I can tell, you know?”

“Yeah you’re good at that,” I groused.

“I’m pretty good at a lot of things when it comes to you,” Chan admitted, eyes holding a pure kind of affection as they appraised me.

“I’m glad I have you,” I said, letting out a sigh as I allowed my head to rest against the center of his chest. “You don’t think I’m stupid for trying things out with Changbin?”

“You’ve always liked him,” Chan said with a bitter tone that sounded more like a jealous lover rather than a friend.

I chose not to say anything. “I hope the two of them make each other miserable.”

Chan chuckled. “Is this your form of revenge?”

“I don’t think it’ll work out in my favor,” I said, pressing myself even closer to Chan, pausing when my hand drug across his stomach. “Holy shit, Channie, you weren’t kidding about the gym.”

“Did you not believe me?”

“Who are you trying to impress?” I grinned, propping my chin against his sternum to make it easier to look into his eyes.

“It’s always been the same person,” Chan said vaguely, dimples on display as he considered me. “I hope Seo didn’t destroy your faith in relationships.”

“It wouldn’t be entirely his fault,” I sighed. “All my relationships have been complete failures.

“Y/N,” Chan whispered, brushing a light kiss across my forehead. “Maybe it’s because you’ve never tried the right guy.”

The memory was laced with something warm, an association that stood in stark contradiction to my current condition, slowly opening my eyes to a pulsing room, somehow much too bright for my pupils to adjust. Was I alive? I wondered because I couldn’t really feel anything which was certainly disarming. But then there was a familiar smell, rancid and burning, and it made me feel like I was definitely not in any sort of happy afterlife. There was also the problem of the blurry figure slowly coming into focus next to me, fiddling with an array of wires twisting together with the sounds of a machine distantly clicking in the background. I watched through hooded eyes as the now perceivable person in question handled an impressively large needle, pinching my skin painfully at the juncture of my elbow.

“Han Jisung,” I began, startling him from where he was checking the IV. “Just put a fucking needle into my arm. What hellish realm have I descended into?”

“Y/N!” Jisung squealed loudly, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss against my forehead.

“What the hell was that for?”

“For not dying,” Jisung sighed in relief. “When you came in, there was nothing but blood and glass everywhere!... Oh, and Chan may or may not have a fine against him for beating the living shit out of the asshole that hit you.”

“Why are you so loud?” I groaned, palming my forehead because the room was still swimming into focus. “What happened?”

“You probably don’t remember,” Jisung said. “It was a pretty bad concussion, but you were in a car accident.”

“I was?” I questioned, struggling to recall anything past a few minutes ago when I first realized that incompetent Han Jisung was sticking pointy objects into my veins.

“Chan was so upset,” Jisung said. “He wanted to do the surgery, but the superintendent wouldn’t let him.”

“Surgery?” I repeated. “I had surgery?”

“Cuz’ of your ribs,” Jisung said quietly as if finally realizing that he probably shouldn’t be saying all this to me at once, especially if the persistent beeping of the heart monitor was something to be concerned about.

“What’s wrong with my ribs?” I asked, somewhat panicking as I felt down my chest, noticing the thick bandage wrapped around my upper body.

“Chill, Y/N,” Jisung placated, reaching around me to adjust the monitor. “Now I can’t get an accurate reading!”

“So sorry to inconvenience you,” I said with a hoarse voice, reaching up to quickly wrap my hand around my throat. “Is there something wrong with my voice?”

“Well, you’ve been out for three days so...”

“Three days!”

Now I was definitely panicking, full-on hysteria as the heart monitor loudly detected the irregular contraction of the muscle thundering aggressively against my chest. It was enough to alert the doctor on duty, walking into my room to check on his patient, scolding Jisung harshly as he filled a syringe with a clear liquid. “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he said kindly, injecting the fluid into my IV. “Just relax.”

My eyelids fluttered closed, overwhelmed by a disjointed sense of calm that gradually pulled me back under the current of drug-induced bliss.

“Sweetie.”

My eyes flew open at the sound of his voice, the best wake-up call in the whole world. I slowly turned my head to the side, taking in the sight of my disheveled husband, eyes blood-shot with heavy dark bags haunting tight circles against his pale skin. “Channie?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Chan sniffled, fresh tears swelling his cheeks as he leaned in closer to grip tightly to my hand. “It’s all my fault.”

I considered him closely, wondering what he could possibly mean by accepting blame for whatever was causing him obvious pain. I faintly remember Jisung telling me about am accident, but it was difficult to really think back any further, like a wall had enclosed around my brain, refusing to allow anything else to come into consciousness. But Chan didn’t need to cry, he was usually the best part of my life, waking up in bed together to share sweet kisses or eagerly waiting for him to come home and swoon over my newest K-Drama obsession. “Why are you sad?” I asked him, reaching out to do my best and wipe away those nasty tears.

“You wouldn’t answer your phone,” Chan cried, heart-wrenching sobs that broke my heart with every heavy inhale. “I didn’t know where you were.”

“Is that why you’re upset?” I asked, wiping away a few mischievous curls that had wandered into his eyes.

“I found you in the intersection,” Chan whispered. “And the car...” he trailed off with a choking gasp as if the details were too horrific to describe.

“I’m here now, Channie,” I said, desperate to relieve his sadness. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

Chan nodded furiously, pressing a wet kiss to the back of my hand. “I can’t lose you like that, sweetie.”

“Well, I plan to stick around for a while,” I said, earning me a half-smile in return. “Channie,” I whispered, glancing around the room conspiratorially. “Is there anything good to eat in this place?”

This time Chan did laugh and it was the best medicine I could possibly have.

“Vitals?” Chan asked, lingering around the poor nurse who clearly wasn’t expecting this much attention over one patient when she clocked in this morning.

“I already checked them,” the nurse informed him, writing down something on the chart clipped to the edge of my bed. I sipped my water as I watched the two of them, wondering if Chan had been this overbearing the entire time.

“Temperature?”

“98 degrees.”

“Blood pressure?”

“122/75”

“Respiration?”

“Chan,” I whispered softly, immediately drawing my husband’s attention who was at my side in an instant. “I think the nurse knows how to do her job.”

The poor woman shot me a grateful smile as she re-clipped my chart, hurrying out of the room as if she couldn’t possibly escape fast enough. “Sorry,” Chan said, taking his seat next to me. “I’m just worried.”

“I get discharged tomorrow,” I told him. “Pretty sure that means I’m just fine.”

“But your leg,” Chan whined, fussily messing with the large cast, tucking the blankets in securely.

“It’ll heal,” I said, frowning as I picked at the squishy jello the nursing staff had brought in earlier. “Isn’t there anything else to eat?”

Chan tsked. “That’s good for you, Y/N. It’s full of necessary vitamins.”

I should have known better than to ask my doctor husband if I could possibly have something that actually had flavor to eat. No matter how much I begged and pleaded, Chan refused to waver from the nasty daily meals I was brought, much to my disappointment. “I’d kill for a burger.”

“Too much fat,” Chan said, turning down the idea before I could possibly try to negotiate.

“It physically hurts me to eat,” I tried. “I think they’re secretly plotting my death.”

“Y/N,” Chan scolded lightly. “There’s a reason why we serve this to patients, alright?”

I frowned at him but shoved a spoonful of the nasty substance in my mouth, earning me a pleased smile in response. “Happy?”

“You can have better food tomorrow,” Chan said, pausing as he reached down to check his phone notifications. “Minho is here,” he grumbled. “I guess I’ll go get him from the lobby before he gets lost.”

“Thank you, darling,” I chirped, accepting his brief kiss.

“I’ve seen worse,” Minho declared, ignoring Chan’s disbelieving scoff.

“You obviously weren’t here when she was first brought in,” Chan growled to him.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Minho asked, disregarding Chan who had gone back to check the dozens of machines somehow monitoring my every possible bodily function.

“Hungry,” I grimaced, pointing to my discarded container.

Minho lifted it curiously, bringing it his nose before he let out an unattractive grunt. “Is this garbage?”

“Don’t encourage her,” Chan said, reaching for my chart for the millionth time that day. “I’ll be right back, Y/N.”

“Okay,” I said, rolling my eyes once his back was turned.

I waited until Chan was gone before desperately reaching out for Minho. “You’ve got to help me, Minho! I can’t stand another day of jello and mashed potatoes. Get me a Big Mac and I’ll give you the number of one of my work acquaintances.”

Minho raised an interested brow. “Scale?”

“Oh, she’s definitely an 8...please!”

“That’s impossible to turn down, Y/N,” Minho grinned. “Give me ten minutes.”

I snatched his sleeve before he could walk away. “Make sure Chan doesn’t see.”

“So ask Han Jisung to fuck something up, got it.”

“You’re my best friend in the entire world. The rest of my life will be spent in your servitude.”

Minho offered me a brief salute and I solemnly nodded my head while ignoring the way my stomach growled.

It was growing dark outside and I’m pretty sure Jisung had accidentally given me too much of whatever pain medicine I had been prescribed. I could barely keep my eyes open as Chan settled next to me on his chair. “Y/N,” he said softly, picking at an invisible string on his suit pants. “I want to talk to you about the fight we had.”

My exhaustion vanished in a flash. “Okay,” I said, even though I had been hoping Chan would just forget that the fight even happened.

“I owe you an apology,” Chan said. “For acting like a jealous prick. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It’s my fault too,” I said. “I know how you feel about him, but I still went out anyway.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Chan said, swallowing down the lie even though I could always read him like a book. “But every time I think about Seo Changbin, I can’t help but remember Freshman year.”

“You act like he broke your heart instead,” I tried to joke, but Chan was everything but amused.

“Yeah, he did break your heart, Y/N, and I’ll never forgive him for it. He was an arrogant bastard back then, and I’m sure that hasn’t changed much.”

“Not really,” I agreed, recalling our prior lunch arrangement.

“And I’ll never be okay with the fact that you work with your ex-boyfriend, but since you love the job so much, I can’t possibly fight with you anymore,” Chan said. “I should trust you as my wife.”

“I’m not remotely interested in Changbin,” I said. “It just sucks that he’s got good connections.”

“But if he tries anything on you...”

“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “I would never do anything to hurt you, even if his thighs look super good these days.”

“Y/N.”

“I know, Channie,” I giggled, reaching for his hand. “Trust me, alright? I don’t plan to work there forever. Fingers crossed for a promotion to the publisher.”

“I’ll pray every night if I have to,” Chan said. “As for Felix...”

“Don’t worry about him,” I said. “I know that I should try harder to get along with Felix.”

“It’s a two-way street,” Chan countered. “I’ve spoken to him about everything.”

“You have?” I wavered. “What did he say?”

“Well, he feels really bad about the accident,” Chan said. “I think he realizes how much better things would be if you guys were on friendlier terms.”

“He really looks up to you,” I said, recalling Minho’s words from before. “I hope he doesn’t feel like I’m trying to steal you away.”

“Felix and I have always been close,” Chan said. “We both had a hard time moving here from Australia. But at the end of the day, we could rely on each other..”

“High school wasn’t very good to either of you,” I said.

“Well, except for you of course,” Chan said, attempting a smile.

“They were mean to you, Channie,” I said, “and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I’ve gotten over that,” Chan insisted. “But Felix always took everything harder than me. He wasn’t very social until college.”

“He should have stuck to being an introvert,” I said. “Look at the kind of friends he ended up with.”

“Are you saying Hyunjin is a bad influence?”

“Have you been around for our interactions?

“I’ve definitely noticed, Y/N. Remember what happened that one time when we went camping-”

“Anyways,” I loudly interrupted. “It seems like we both have a lot of things to work on.”

“But that’s why we talk about it,” Chan said, pressing a soothing kiss to the wrinkled crease of my forehead. “That’s what married couples do, right?”

“Ah, Channie, when did you become a walking cliche?”

“Should I be more serious, then?”

“You’re getting there with the doctor’s jacket.”

“Really?” Chan asked, sitting back in his chair. “Is this your way of asking us to try some kind of kinky roleplay?”

“I don’t know, but it might be interesting. Can I call you Dr. Bang?”

Chan was positively beaming. “You can always call me Daddy instead.”

“Darling, I think they accidentally gave you my prescription of morphine.”

If anyone were to ever ask me, then I’d tell them that signing hospital discharge papers was about as difficult as applying for a loan. “How many more are there?” I wondered, scribbling a messy signature at the bottom of the last sheet Jisung had brought for me to sign.

“I think that’s it.”

“You think?” I snorted, watching Jisung sort through each page carefully like he really had no idea what he was holding.

“Each year they add more shit for the patients,” Jisung explained. “I’m pretty sure they do it just to confuse me.”

“Everything confuses you, Jisung,” I said, patting his arm sympathetically. “Has Chan come in yet?”

“He’s on his way with Felix.”

“Goodie,” I grumbled. “Are you working late today?”

“Someone has to help since Chan insists on taking the day off,” Jisung said.

“I hope they aren’t planning on letting you do the surgeries.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

I kept my mouth shut, deciding to let Jisung live in his deluded fantasy world where he could somehow manage to cure patients of their ailments as opposed to causing them. Unsurprisingly, since the moment I had first met him, Jisung had always been completely sure of himself even if he was whole-heartedly wrong. For example, when we were all seniors in college, Chan refused to speak to Jisung for an entire week after the two of them received an F on their group project. Apparently, Jisung forgot to submit the lab report on time and waited an additional week before approaching the professor to politely ask if he could still bring it to her after class.

“Channie,” I tried to console him. “You know Jisung didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, but my GPA will still suffer the consequences,” Chan had sulked, whining about how difficult it was to maintain a friendship with Han Jisung.

Yet, when Chan was first hired by the hospital, Chan sent in a very persuasive reference for Jisung, encouraging the higher-ups to offer him a nursing position. The three of us went out to celebrate Jisung’s new job offer, nursing shots of bad vodka while eating rather terrible sushi. “Chan,” a very tipsy Jisung had said. “I love you so much, man.”

“Oi, keep your hands to yourself,” Chan had grouched despite wearing the biggest grin on his face...

“Y/N,” Jisung interrupted my recollection. “I think Chan just got here.”

“Finally,” I sighed. “I thought I would never be able to get the smell of alcohol out of my nose.”

“Thank God you’re here,” I said the moment Chan and Felix walked into my hospital room. “I’m pretty sure I had to sign my life away to leave this place, but it’s totally worth it.”

Chan rolled his eyes playfully. “I see you’re feeling better this morning.”

“I’ve been better for days,” I said. “But my doctor wouldn’t allow me to so much as breathe the wrong way.”

“Is that so?” Chan asked, reaching down for my discarded bag. “Your doctor sounds like a real asshole.”

“Yeah, but he’s pretty hot. I’d totally fuck him if I wasn’t already married.”

“It sounds like you have a thing for doctors?” Chan asked. “Does this husband of yours know that?”

“He probably does,” I said. “But I feel like he’ll probably leave me to masturbate on my own for months because of this dumb cast.”

“Y/N,” Chan scoffed. “It’s important for you to heal properly.”

I groaned loudly. “Why are you so responsible?”

Chan carefully handed me my bag. “Make sure you have everything. I’m going to talk to your surgeon one more time before we leave.”

It was difficult to prevent myself from protesting, finally realizing just how quiet it was with just me and Felix in the room. “Hi, Felix,” I said, awkwardly adjusting my blankets once Chan had disappeared from sight.

“Y/N,” Felix said, gaze focused on some unidentifiable point on the floor.

“What have you been up to?” I asked, trying to sound cheery because I didn’t like the look of despondence on Felix’s normally bright visage.

“I owe you an apology, Y/N,” Felix said with a vulnerable tone I had never heard from him before. “It’s because of me that you got hurt.”

“Felix,” I hesitated because this was uncharted territory for the both of us, a distant cry from our usual taunting banter. “You don’t need to do that. Everything’s fine now.”

“Your leg,” Felix whispered as an unexpected tear slid down the side of his face.

“It’s just a fracture,” I shrugged. “I’ll be just fine in a few months.”

“Just a fracture,” Felix parroted back, voice thick with emotion. “Why aren’t you mad at me? Because you should be. I’m always getting in your way.”

“Is that what you think?” I asked, surprised to hear Felix’s true feelings. “Felix, you aren’t in anybody’s way. You know I don’t really care that you’re staying with us, especially after you just graduated. I just wish you’d be a little bit more respectful.”

“Because I’ve always been jealous of you, Y/N,” Felix said. “Especially since Chan likes you more than me.”

“Felix, you know that Chan loves you. He would do anything in the world to make you happy.”

“He’s always chosen you over me,” Felix said. “He stopped hanging out with me on weekends in high school, and he even went to the same college as you even though he was accepted into Harvard and Yale.”

I was shocked by Felix’s true feelings, a rare moment of vulnerability that he was choosing to share with me. “Lixie,” I said. “Why have you never said anything before?”

Felix shivered at my use of his nickname. “I didn’t want to. You guys are so happy together and I didn’t want to hurt Chan.”

“Ya! Felix,” I frowned, “your feelings matter too. And if you really feel that way, then we need to talk about it together.”

“I’m just a burden,” Felix gruffed.

“No, you aren’t,” I insisted. “You’re part of our family, and if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable, then you deserve to be heard.”

“You don’t really mean that do you, Y/N?” Felix asked with glistening eyes. “I don’t want you to say these things just to make me feel better.”

“Felix, when have you ever seen me lying to someone just to protect their feelings?” I asked. “I always speak my mind, and this time I’m putting my foot down. When we get home, we’re having a movie marathon, just the three of us. And this weekend, you and Chan can go somewhere together out of town. I’ll have Minho stay with me instead.”

“Really?” Felix asked, swiping a sleeve under his bright red nose.

“We’re in-laws you know,” I said. “That means we look out for one another.”

“Y/N,” Felix giggled and, for once, I didn’t feel the slightest bit annoyed.

“Lee Felix, don’t you ever let me catch you crying like this again, understand?”

Felix nodded, smiling so brilliantly that I was reminded of when we were much younger and he was just an innocent little boy who idolized his older brother.

“Careful,” Chan said, holding the door wide with one hand while keeping a firm grip around my waist.

“I’m not gonna break,” I grumbled, pausing in the doorway as I let out a grateful sigh. It was a huge relief to be back at home and not stuck in that hospital room surrounded by questionable smells.

Chan carefully led me into the living room and I gave him my crutches before collapsing on the futon, ignoring the rigid fabric because I had never been happier to hug one of the matching throw pillows. “Comfortable?” Chan asked, helping me prop my leg up on the coffee table. Meanwhile, Felix lingered in the doorway, grasping my bag tightly between his hands.

“Come join us, Felix,” I said. “You’ll let out all the heat.”

Felix nodded, eyes wide as he locked the door behind him. Chan sent me a curious look as if he wasn’t sure what I was hoping to accomplish by inviting his younger brother into the same room. “I have something for you.”

I clapped my hands together eagerly. “Is it something loaded with carbohydrates and fat?”

“Not quite,” he said, handing me my cell phone. “Seo Enterprises called earlier today. I already contacted them about the accident, but I guess they need to hear from you.”

“Great,” I grimaced, dialing the number from memory. It rang for a few moments, and Chan and Felix were both messing around with the TV, probably trying to figure out what to watch. Because the only thing the two brothers argued about was whether action movies were better than romance.

“Seo Enterprises, this is Eliza speaking how can I help you today?”

“Hi,” I immediately cringed, wondering how many cool points I could possibly lose in one day. “This is Y/N, can I speak to Mr. Seo please?”

“I can transfer you right away,” Eliza spoke promptly as if she had already been prepared to receive my call.

“Y/N!” Changbin’s voice now answered. “I’m glad to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been having a lot of bad luck recently,” I said. “I guess you know about the accident.”

“I heard,” Changbin said. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” I said. “But I might need some time away from the company. Apparently, a broken leg is a pretty big deal.”

“Take as much time as you need, Y/N,” Changbin said. “I’ve hired a temporary secretary until you’re ready to come back.”

“I don’t know, Changbin,” I said. “It might take several weeks. Maybe you should just hire a replacement.”

“There’s no need for that, Y/N,” Changbin countered. “I still believe you’re the best person for the job.”

“Well, if you’re sure...” I trailed off, shaking my head furiously at Chan when he held up our used copy of The Notebook.

“I’m definitely sure,” Changbin said. “Call me when you want to come back. We still have a lot of things I want to do together in the future.”

“You’re too indecisive,” Chan said, finally taking a well-deserved seat next to me on the futon.

“And you have terrible taste in cinema,” Felix retorted.

“Yeah? Well maybe we should just let Y/N pick,” Chan suggested, mouthing a sweet kiss against my temple.

“I think Felix should decide,” I said, cuddling up closer to Chan’s side.

“Really?” Felix asked, appearing entirely surprised that I would allow him such freedom.

“Why not?” I sighed happily. “I’ll even watch that weird anime movie if you want.”

Felix scoffed but a faint smile remained as he grabbed the remote. Chan chuckled and leaned down to press another kiss to the top of my forehead. “I’m proud of you, sweetie,” he whispered.

“It’s only because I love you so much,” I said while shrugging indifferently, but Chan could always read through me.

“Hmm, well I love you more,” he said, brushing his fingers through my hair as the opening credits rolled across the screen.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #bang chan #chan #chan fanfic #bang chan fanfic #chris bang #chan smut #bang chan smut

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lettalady · 3 years ago

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So the ever amazing @incoherentrambler has uncovered an old something from 2015 that never got posted here and yea... since we’re getting Loki!Tom again it’s well past time to see this bit of fluff:

Paint It Black

“You didn’t wash your hair this morning, did you?”

He’s not new to the dye-your-hair ritual but you ask regardless. If he says yes you’ll be able to scold him for the faux pas - have a tale to tell regarding meeting the esteemed Tom Hiddleston.

No such luck.

“No,” he gives his head a shake, reaching up to touch the slightly longer ginger-blonde curls.

You try to return his smile before busying yourself with preparations to hide your nerves, leaving him to settle into the waiting chair while you mix the bottle of dye.

“May I ask you something?”

You turn, being careful to keep your fingers over the cap to the bottle as you shake the mixture. “Yes--”

He’s got his legs splayed out, his feet still touching the floor on either side of the footrest. Not a distracting way to sit at all. “I’ve noticed that my hair has been growing in darker since I’ve begun to dye it for roles.”

“Hmm.” You tip your head to the sheet draped over the armchair of the seat beside him. “Might want to put that on or we’ll end up getting dye on that white t-shirt, too. And that does happen. Let it grow a bit, let the sun bleach it and you’ll be -- what -- blonde again?”

He shrugs, not taking his eyes off you. “It’s just a shirt.”

“And your neck?”

He chuckles as you uncap the bottle and approach him, “Just skin.” After a pause he adds, “Should be concerned about the color my hair is going to turn?”

You shake your head, motioning for him to spin around to face the mirror so you can work. “Raven,” you reply once he has turned the chair, “just as they ordered. Goodbye, ginger curls.” Applying the dye takes a little time as you’re trying to dye his hair, not the man himself. He holds incredibly still throughout, despite chattering.

Somehow he’s gotten onto the subject of his favorite movie -- The Jungle Book. Had you asked him something about it or had he just offered up the information? When he starts to hum you flick his ear, then quickly reach over to grab a cloth and remove the glob of dye that you’d transferred from your glove. “No wiggling. You were doing so well.”

He arches an eyebrow at you using his reflection in the mirror, “I could say the same.”

Flirting with Tom Hiddleston isn’t wise, but it is ever so hard to resist doing. He’s a natural flirt, and to be honest, so are you. You shrug, “I’ll style your hair to hide it till it washes off -- aaaaaand if they notice I’ll swear you refused the cover and then wouldn’t hold still.”

“Traitor. Trickster.”

“No,” you counter, “That’s you. God of Mischief. Now watch for drips while I throw away these gloves. I -- shit -- tore a hole…”

You scowl at the deep purple-black dyed finger, revealed as you peel the glove off. It is your pointer finger -- coated from nail to knuckle. At least the dye hadn’t spread all the way through the glove. Right now you just look like you need to amputate a single digit. Scrubbing at the dyed finger is rather pointless, since you’ll be needing to wash the color from his hair after a few minutes.

“It’ll come off, right?”

You turn at Tom’s concerned tone to find he has spun the chair around and is halfway to standing. “Ah! Sit.” You wave your hand at him to indicate the chair, then focus on your hand itself once more. “Yes. In a few days. Until then…” You shrug at him, “Hazard of the job.”

Tom spins the chair around while you busy yourself cleaning up the mess of containers. You wonder briefly how they keep him stationary for makeup. “So -- favorite scene?”

“What?”

“In The Jungle Book.”

“Oh.” You toss the bottles into their proper bins before leaning back against the counter next to the sink. He’ll need to scoot that ever-so-talented ass over here to let you wash the dye out. Free scalp massage during rinsing, all for the price of a dye job. “Let’s see -- anything with Shere Khan. And Kaa. Oh the vultures, too. And King…”

He’s laughing.

“...Louie. Let me guess -- it’s a scene with Baloo the bear for you. Already know you know the words to Bare Necessities.”

Tom grins and ghrugs, swiveling the chair back and forth on its stand. “Guilty as charged. But I want to know yours. You rattle off the characters well enough, but do you know the songs?”

Uh oh. You can see where this is headed. Hesitantly you reply, “Suuuuuuure.”

“Prove it. You mentioned the vultures. Sing That’s What Friends Are For.”

“Sung by four. You planning on singing harmonies? I know you like to multitask but---”

“Another, then.”

He won’t let up until you sing something. You settle for the ending song, simple melody enough. “‘Til I’m grown, ‘til I’m grown / I must go to fetch the water / ‘Til the day that I am grown.” You give him a nod. You’re no circus bear -- a term he has used to describe himself before, “Good enough?”

Still grinning triumphant, he nods. “My turn, then?”

You shake your head, pointing to the empty chair just before the sink. “Hair first. Then we’ll see.”

He gives you a wink as he stands, “I can multitask, remember…” and then proceeds to hum and walk to the beat of Bare Necessities. He’s still humming when he leans back in the chair and you turn the water on, but the moment you start to rinse the dye from his hair the humming stops and turns into a moan.

You hover your hands in the running water, watching him blink his eyes open. “You -- you ok there?”

His eyes find yours, his cheeks tinging pink as he clears his throat. “Yes. Yes. Ahem.”

The moment you start again the same noise escapes him, deepening the flush and causing it to expand to coat his throat as well. You don’t pause this time, “You have a weakness, it seems.”

He lets out another laugh before clearing his throat and closing his eyes once more, a silent signal to carry on. It isn’t an uncommon thing -- some people just have a thing for scalp massages. Since you have to make sure you don’t leave his scalp tinged an inhuman color, this is going to be an interesting next few minutes -- with Tom making noises of pleasure that threaten to make your legs to jelly.

You tighten up your core and start repeating a mantra within your head to battle against his occasional moan. Self-control. Self-control. You possess self-control. Biting your bottom lip also helps, though your brain quickly turns the action against you -- leading you down the path of: is he a biter?

To his credit, he is trying to stifle the noises -- somewhat.

Miraculously the water starts to run clear before you end up a puddle of goo on the floor. Thankfully the towels are on the shelf just within reach. You’re pretty damned sure that if the occasion called for it you wouldn’t be able to make it across the room at the moment. While Tom has his head ducked under the towel to rub the excess water away -- and probably gather himself together -- you take time to do the same. You lean and grip the edge of the sink, bowing your head to focus on the cool surface greeting your palms.

Deep breaths. Deeeeeeeep breaths.

And then comes Tom’s chuckle, “Now who has a weakness.”

#imagine tom hiddleston

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fandomsnchaos · 4 years ago

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Okay, i've written fanfics before, but they're either angst, really really soft fluff, or just pure chaos/joking but anyways, have some chaos Reed900! (side note: there will be a lot of cussing, just letting you know! also slight NSFW?)

word count: 2021

Gavin had been working with an android for a while now, the android was known as RK900 or Nines as Gavin called him. He got used to him slowly, took a bit getting pass the harsh vocabulary Gavin had. Some nicknames stuck though, like Tin-can, Plastic Prick, even Coffee Machine was still fired at the war machine. Nines never paid much attention to the feisty human's words, of course occasionally he'd fire back. They had a relationship that was pretty interesting and intense. They even fought physically before, Gavin never won them, of course getting in a fight with a machine that was built for war, what did you expect? As time went on they hung out a lot and actually talked, but recently, some playful and flirtatious banter along side leaving a jacket in Gavin's room, may have made a new couple.

Reed was sitting outside his apartment complex smoking when he heard the door open. He ignored it not really giving a shit of who was leaving until he saw the tall android wearing his normal white and black suit with that stupid glowing blue triangle and arm band. "What do you want, Tin-can?" Gavin glanced at him before watching the robotic cars drive by again. He puffed on his cigarette. "I came out here to check on you, detective." Nines spoke, looking at Gavin. He held his arms behind his back standing up straight, which made him look much taller than Gavin. "Great. You can leave now." Gavin blew smoke into the air. Nines was about to speak again, but decided to reconsider his words. He loved the on and off banter they had but he had to admit, even though he's a tough guy, he still cared deeply for Gavin. Instead of bashing Reed and insulting him harshly as he occasionally did, he decided on a more flirtatious route. "You know you love me, you would miss me too much if I left." The android finally spoke. Gavin rolled his eyes as he put out the cigarette. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." Gavin walked back inside the apartment heading to his flat, Nines following closely.

Gavin sighed in relief as he laid on his bed. He noticed Nines enter the room and lean against the door frame. "Do you wear anything else or just that stiff ass suit?" Gavin asked as he sat up on the bed. "I can. I wear this as it is what Cyberlife made for me." Nines spoke. "I've seen Connor wear hoodies, why don't you?" Gavin was genuinely curious of the androids style. "Connor gets hoodies from Hank, not that I'd personally wear a hoodie, I could, but I'm more comfortable with something like a turtleneck." Nines smiled softly. He liked seeing Gavin being curious. He knows Gavin wouldn't admit it, but he liked seeing him want to learn more about his partner. "Huh." Gavin looked Nines up and down. "I have a turtleneck on underneath this suit actually." Nines said as he started to take off the jacket. Gavin watched, slight panic setting in. Nines sat beside Gavin on the bed wearing the turtleneck he said he had on. Gavin blushed softly but for a human it would be difficult to tell as the lights were off except the hallway light that shined through the open door. Nines looked at Gavin. "You're silent, are you okay?" He asked scooting a bit closer to the human. Gavin scoffed. "Yeah? Why do you keep asking me that, plastic prick? It's getting annoying!" Nines smirked wanting to pick on the human more. "I'm your partner, it's my job to not only help you, but make sure you're safe and okay." Gavin tried to push the android away. "Fuck you're heavy. Most police department partners don't sleep in the same place!" Nines chuckled. "Even if they're married or a family?" Gavin glared at him. "I said most, dumbass." Nines moved causing Gavin, who still was pushing as much weight he could onto the android, to fall over on the bed. "You say dumbass as if I don't have more information in my software that your brain wouldn't be able to handle." Gavin sat up again. "Either leave or sleep out there. If you even do sleep." He said laying down again this time hiding under the covers. "Night, Reed." Nines said as he walked out the room. Gavin peaked out from the covers watching the door shut and listening to the android walk away. He noticed Nines jacket laid on his bed. He grabbed it debating on getting up and giving it back to Nines. He held it close getting hit with that cool, comforting feeling. He held it close and laid down closing his eyes. He held the jacket to his face covering his face with it making sure he could still breathe while also feeling the cool touch. He fell asleep feeling the comfort and security of something so useless and boring but so worth it.

As the morning slowly creeped into the morning, Nines walked into Gavin's room. He had knocked before a couple times, but no answer. He saw his jacket wrapped around Reed. Nines smiled and sat on the bed once again. "Gavin, get up. It's time to get ready for work." He nudged him a bit. Gavin groaned and hid under the covers. Nines thought for a second and got up. He faced Gavin and started to caress his face. "Trash panda, get up." Gavin opened his eyes slightly. When he saw Nines he sat up backing away. "Jesus..fucking christ Nines!" Nines laughed. "Sorry, it was too fun of an idea not to try!" Gavin shot a cold glare a the android. "See you have my jacket. I need that." Nines smiled. Gavin looked at the jacket and handed it to Nines. "Fuck off." He got up finally.

As Gavin got ready and even at work Nines had been picking on him about falling asleep cuddling his jacket, Nines even told Tina who helped joke about it. Gavin was annoyed. He sat at his desk pretending to do work, not that anyone fell for it, trying to think of ways to get back at his partner Nines and his childhood friend Tina. Nines walked over to him handing him a cup of coffee. "You're not very good at faking work." Gavin looked up at him taking the coffee. "I don't really care." He took a drink of his coffee before setting it down on his desk. Nines sat on the desk as he occasionally did. "Are you really annoyed about this that much?" He asked smirking. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not, but I do plan on getting back at you." Gavin looked at Nines. "Stop looking so smug too, you always look so confident with yourself." He leaned back in his chair. "That's cause I am. There's not really anything that can make me embarrassed." Nines kept the smirk on his face. "Sure. Even if you are an android, something has to embarrass you." Gavin said not buying it. "If you think of something, let me know." Nines stood up standing by Gavin's side. Gavin sighed and started to actually do work.

Gavin and Tina were in the breakroom talking. Gavin noticed Connor walk in to get coffee for Hank. "Hey, maybe he could help you mess with Nines!" Tina said motioning to Connor. "Maybe." Gavin replied. He walked over to Connor. "Hey, Connor." Connor looked at Gavin. "Yes, Reed?" He tilted his head a bit, listening to Gavin. "Do you think you can tell me something about Nines he hasn't told anyone else?" He smirked. "Like?" Connor was curious. "A secret? Come on dipshit, tell me something." Gavin leaned on the counter. "Sorry, detective but I don't know any secrets from him. Why though? Why do you want a secret?" Connor grabbed the coffee. "No reason." Gavin sighed walking away. Connor was confused, his LED clearly showing that. He shrugged it off and went back to Hank. "Nothing?" Tina asked. "Sadly." Gavin responded. She sighed. "Well good luck, I have work to do." She smiled and walked off. Gavin watched her walk off. He went back to his desk where Nines sat looking through cases. Gavin leaned on the chair. "What are you looking at?" He asked. "Old cases and files. Just got curious I guess." Nines leaned back in the chair looking at Gavin. Gavin had made eye contact with Nines, seeing the piercing grey-ish blue eyes made Gavin's heart skip a beat. He got a bit flustered. Nines smirked his eyes trailing to Gavin's lips. "I saw some old DPD pictures of you." He looked back at Reed's eyes. "Were you always this pretty or what?" He spoke in a more seductive tone. That had caught Gavin off guard. He backed away blushing. "Excuse me?!" Nines laughed. "What the hell, tin-can?!" Gavin wanted to fire back but was too much of a mess to think of anything. Nines stood up. "You're pretty. Take the compliment." Gavin didn't know what to say. "Screw you!" He said glancing at the seductive android beside him. "When?" Nines fired back. Gavin nudged him and sat at his desk. "Just shut up, fucking plastic asshole." Nines smiled leaving him alone for a bit.

Their shift ended and Gavin started to head home with his loyal android following him of course. It started getting kinda cold so Gavin hugged himself trying to keep himself warm. Nines had noticed it. "Come here." He said wrapping an arm around Gavin. He started heating himself up to warm up Reed. Gavin looked at the android. "Why don't you have a car or something you can ride to work and back?" Nines asked looking at the human. "Uhm." Gavin looked away. "It's a long story." Nines just nodded respecting Gavin not wanting to talk about it. When they got to the apartment Gavin entered his flat. Nines moved away from Gavin, taking off his jacket again. Gavin watched eventually slowly moving over to his android. He hugged him softly trying to keep up his tough persona, but that didn't last long. "You're warm." He mumbled. Nines kinda froze. He looked at his partner that had now nuzzled his face into the machine's chest. 'There's not really anything that can make me embarrassed.' Nines remembered saying those words. Although he wouldn't say embarrassed, he was flustered. Nines eventually wrapped his arms around Gavin resting his chin on his partner's head. "You're like a heater." Gavin spoke his eyes closed. His shoulders dropped as he started to relax. Nines made Gavin look up at him. Gavin's grey eyes meeting with his grey-ish light blue, practically hypnotizing eyes. "You're a bastard." Gavin chuckled. "You're a prick!" Nines pushed Gavin off him slightly. Gavin tried to attack back but was picked up by the much more stronger android. He was forced over the android's shoulder. "Hey! Fuck you!" Gavin tried to fight back but of course didn't win. Nines dropped him on the bed. "Feral." He crawled on top of him. Gavin blushed backing away. "Wait wait." Nines stopped and looked at him. "Are you okay, detective?" He asked, concerned for him. "Yeah, that just caught me off guard." Gavin sighed relaxing again. He looked at Nines giving him the signal to continue. Nines crawled back on top of Gavin. "May I?" He asked wanting to make a move. Gavin smirked. "Go for it." Nines pulled Gavin a bit closer leaning in to kiss him. As he did Gavin eventually pulled Nines down keeping him close. He wrapped his legs around the android's waist as Nines started to play with Gavin's hair. They pulled away finally, Gavin catching his breath. Nines got off him and pulled Gavin close to him. "Sucks to have to breathe doesn't it." Gavin rolled his eyes. "Shut up." Nines chuckled. "Hey, I can go on as long as you need me to." Gavin moved away from him. "Prick." Nines cuddled Gavin again. "Feral." Gavin smiled softly letting himself relax again and fall asleep finally.

(sorry if this is a mess, it's 7:14 AM as i write this and i haven't slept, uh, yeah, hope you enjoyed!)

#dbh #detroit become human #rk900 #gavin reed #reed900 #dbh rk900 #detroit: become human #dbh gavin #fanfic

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helenazbmrskai · 4 years ago

Text

ONE TIME BOY [SPACE] FRIEND

👠Pairing: Jimin x fem! reader 👠Genre: makeover au, best friends to lovers au, gender bender au, beauty contest au 👠Warnings: light smut, semi-public oral (f and m receiving), mirror kink, cameo crazy girl hungry to be miss universe lol 👠Summary: Rejected by your long-time crush using the excuse of not being girly enough your best friend offers you his shoulder to cry on, his eyes land on the daily newspaper advertising the local beauty contest and he gets an excellent idea.

👠Words: 10k

👠Masterlist

”Man, I’m impressed you got an A in Mrs Hoster’s class. It’s notorious that she’s a real bitch with gradings.” I hear the rustling of papers and an oddly familiar laugh overpowering the previous noise the corridor is empty despite those two and me apparently. I stop in my tracks not intently but hiding behind the corner, they have no idea I’m here it’s a blind spot but hearing his voice getting stronger they need to be walking this way.

Mrs Hoster? I’m in her class too. I peek around the corner to see to whom this voice belongs to it’s badly familiar.

”Y/N helped me write the essay so it was an easy job.”

I turned around just in time to avoid getting caught. I closed my eyes for a split second the cold white wall helped me to steady the beating of my heart. It’s Han and his friend I recall his name is something Wu? I’m not sure I don’t interact with Han’s friends he’s the one who always hangs around my friends.

”Did you slept together?” Wu asks and my face turns red immediately. How vulgar not that I’m surprised just caught off guard. Han laughs again.

”No, I’m not interested in girls like her. She’s like a boy.” Looking down on my clothes the baggy shirt and ripped jeans my hair is long at least. I know I’m not the most stylish girl on campus but calling me a boy was a bit harsh considering I wrote everything in that essay of his the only thing he did is writing down the title but I’m not going around school telling my best friend he’s stupid.

”I know, I can’t believe she’s roommates with Jimin maybe he thinks she’s another dude or something too.” The audacity.

”Don’t mention him he keeps his guards on whenever he sees me with her it’s annoying. I’m lucky she’s wiped because knowing that guy his humanitarian soul already told her she’s used and I need my grades. The only thing she’s usable for is homework.” The annoyance is evident in his voice I don’t need to look to imagine how he pinches his nose between two of his fingers while talking.

My teeth clashed together with anger. Calling me a boy is one thing but pulling the honey string before my nose is something only a jerk would do. Yes, he’s handsome I admit that and I hoped for something to go forward between us and how foolish I was to think that. He wanted to think we stand a chance it was his plan all along and he used me. Jimin warned me. He told me this will happen.

"Are you seriously going to stop being Han's little puppy?" The question stirs me awake I feel like someone under a spell after what I witnessed I became awfully quiet around my friend and she noticed the change in my behaviour immediately. We arranged this meet up before I overheard the conversation with Han in fact I was on my way to her when it’s happened my mood was pretty good. I can’t tell the same half an hour later.

I stop mid-bite and aim my sauce-covered index finger to poke her nose but she dodged it before I could ruin her makeup. I abandon the plan and instead I use a napkin to clean my hands I look down on my plate which is still full of comfort food I thought that if I drown myself in junk food it would lift my mood but I couldn't be any more wrong about this.

Rori almost doesn't catch the sound of my tired sigh because of the Mcdonalds’ heavily crowded space by the time lunchtime rolled around the corner it's a miracle that we were able to find a tiny table with two seats inside.

"I wasn't his puppy." I spit the words out gnashing my teeth. Not very ladylike but bloody hell that I would care since I’m a boy I may act like one. "Also it was just a silly crush not that it will ever be more. It's time to move on. I'm too old to have this stupid high school like interest." Yes, I’m a grown-ass woman studying at a University.

"Uh-huh." Rori rolls her eyes suspicious about my sudden change of heart if I'm going to, be honest, there is nothing more that could go wrong on this day I tripped in front of at least 10 people when I was going to the toilet just before I was going to tell my friend how I was humiliated by my crush of 2 years. A very good day if you ask me.

"Jimin knows about this?" I look her dead in the eye conveying the message without words knowing where this conversation going I abandon my food entirely I nibble on my straw drinking my medium-sized coke occasionally. "So he doesn't." She states it sarcastically with her light green gel polished nails annoyingly drumming on the surface of the table.

"It's none of his business anyway." I drink the last drops of the coke before tossing the empty cup on the tray nearly knocking the fries out of their container.

"Why the sour face Y/N. He would be upset if he heard that. Aren't you guys are like besties and stuff?"

Now is not the time to be jealous.

"He's not a cry baby Rori. And we are best friends without the 'besties and stuff'. I thought you liked him." She nods in confirmation stealing one of my fries chewing them in a manner that makes people disgusted.

”We are besties and stuff.” I tell her with a grin and she finally smiles too. We’re like two peas in a pot the memory is still vivid when I first bumped into her quite literally. I was panicking since I didn’t know the route to my first class and on top of that I overslept on my first day she was no better.

”But back to the topic, girl, I’m on your side Han is a five-star shit head. I’m glad you finally realised that.” She’s right like always.

”The resident fuckface, huh?” I sent her a lopsided smile and she raised her hand to give me a thumbs up. Her favourite game is to give people alternative names. Han’s called the resident bad boy around here, she has an alternative option that I begin to like more and more.

”That’s the spirit. Want a ride? It’s going to rain soon.” Rori uses the napkins to clean our mess on the table. There’s no need for sherlock to see why we are still single. We eat like a pig starved for days. Looking out the window her words seem to be accurate the clouds covered the sun and the temperature decreased.

”Nah. I’m just going to be like the protagonist in your favourite rom-com and walk home in the pouring rain sadness devouring my soul while I drench like a homeless.”

Rori rolled her eyes at my dramatic response. ”That was awfully specific.” I shrug, getting up to dispose of the leftovers into a nearby bin.

With my eyes glued to the screen I pop another sickeningly sweet caramel popcorn into my mouth I surrounded myself with fuzzy blankets enjoying the late afternoon with binge-watching my all-time favourite series. Warming my cold feet under the comforter I remind myself not to forget to turn down the heater around the time Jimin comes home.

My hair is wetly clinging to my back soaking the headrest of the sofa I take a glance outside it’s still raining hard. As soon as I got home I changed my clothes but let my hair dry itself without making any effort it doesn't matter if I get sick or not. This way maybe I can avoid Han for a few days at least. Walking in the rain like a kicked puppy was not something I anticipated while waking up this morning but I guess I have to work with what I have.

After I was beyond the sadness the anger came, remembering all the times when he asked me to help with his essays or research projects and like a fool, I went out of my way to do that. It's for the better honestly if I observe the situation from a different perspective he was just using me and it's time for me to get over this silly crush of mine. I don’t even know what was I thinking.

Knowing what’s best is one thing but I'm still hurting I was pinning after him for over two years we share the same classes and we run in the same circles of friends. How can I possibly avoid him when I have to see him every day and skipping classes is not an option? It’s ridiculous and I’m not five anymore to solve my problems cowardly.

The only thing went right this day that Jimin is caught up with his classes so he won't be coming home until late. He sent me a text earlier that his professor wanted to keep that lesson which was cancelled last week so he won't be home as usual.

I didn't want him to see me like this so I embraced all of my pent up frustration and let everything out so I can act as if nothing happened when it’s time to face him. I can imagine how pissed off Jimin would be if he knew I didn't take a shower after arriving home in my soaked clothes and instead I rummaged through our apartment to seize up every gift and memory regarding him to throw it out. The passerby’s probably thought I’m some kind of a crazy chick throwing out my boyfriend's stuff from the 8th floor into the rain as a form of revenge and maybe they’re not so wrong considering that I just yelled through the window and told everyone to fuck off. He’s not my boyfriend but it felt good enough not to care.

I don't want to tell Jimin what I overheard since he always told me Han is a jerk and I shouldn't have wasted my time on useless scumbags like him. The plot twist is that he was right but I don't need to hear that I stopped denying that I knew that deep down but too stubborn to admit it.

I wanted my high school crush to notice me and have my silly happy ending. But in fact, this is not a Disney movie and I’m not a princess with a destinated prince charming. Knowing Jimin’s kind heart he would never rub salt into my open wound he would rather sit with me and watch sappy romcoms saying those sweet nothings like I'll find someone who deserves all of my attention and stuff like that. He would never say ‘I told you so’ in a mocking tone spicing it up with an eye roll like Rori did not long ago.

"Gilmore girls? Uh-huh, I smell something fishy here missy." Surprised to hear my roommate I glance away from the tv giving his form an attentive look. Jimin shakes the droplets out of his hair placing his umbrella next to the pile of shoes by the door after he got rid of his boots the keys metal clinking heard as he dropped them into the bowl on the counter. He stops in his tracks taking in with his eyes my torn up appearance.

"Why is your hair wet? You didn’t walk home in the rain, did you?" He hastily takes off his jacket and throws it on the couch sitting down next to me.

I was so distracted by my own thoughts that I didn't hear when the front door opened. I shrugged, indicating that it's no biggie I glance away from him and stare at the tv watching as the romantic scene unfolds on the screen. Fucking perfect even my favourite show is making fun of me.

"Did you forgot to bring your umbrella again? I told you this morning that it'll rain sweetheart." Distracted by the sweet words of worry I let his comforting heat envelop me as our sides pressed up together on the couch. To an outsider, it would seem like he lectures me on my goldfish memory but I see it in his eyes how worried he looks the soft glint in them always tells me how much he cares about me. Jimin envelopes me in a hug stroking my arm up and down in vertical movements attempting to warm me up.

"I'm fine." I tell him I bury my nose into the juncture of his neck the cold touch awakes goosebumps along his skin he shivers but pulls me closer to his warm body. It’s nice being here with him I would go that far saying that I could almost forget why I was in a bad mood before.

"You're freezing cold Y/N." So warm I could sleep like this even though I turned up the heater the cold seeped into my skin I was struggling to keep myself warm maybe it was a mistake that I didn't head for the showers after arriving home. But throwing his stuff out felt so good knowing myself I would do that again, call me impulsive.

"Sorry." I murmur it into his skin he chuckles as he circles my waist with his arms to push our chests flat against each other his warm palms stroking my back the warmth trickles through the thin t-shirt I'm wearing. So this is how it feels like to have your personal heater suddenly I’m jealous of his previous girlfriends.

Not that I was ever not. Jimin is like a living equivalent of a beautiful enigma. Handsome like he was sculpted by the gods itself paired up with a very sweet and honest heart he is a jackpot well hit. And then there’s me not particularly pretty or nice and he still calls me his little angel or nowadays he seems to call me in all sort of sweet names, princess, shortcake, baby name it all he said it.

"Will you tell me why are you upset, baby?" Here we are with the nicknames again I wonder if he noticed it or he does it subconsciously. Of course, he knows something is up with me he reads me so well that it's kinda scary sometimes. Am I an open book to him or is he this generous and caring?

I always envied his caring personality in campus everyone likes Jimin he acts like an angel he listens well and gives good advice he encouraged me when I was planning to leave my studies and drop out on my second year. We are roommates since my first year here he is a year above me and through friend’s advice, we moved in together.

At first, I was resisting intimidated by the thought that he is a senior and I was just a newbie but he never stopped trying even though that I didn't show any reaction at first he kept talking to me and showering me with tiny gifts like cute notebooks and one bite foods he did most of the housework too since he claimed that being new to all of this I should focus on my studies until I got the hang of everything telling me that he was very stressed in his first year so he understands my struggles. I often think about if he is true or not that he is not just existing in my delusional head because he’s an amazing friend and an even more amazing roommate. It feels unreal that I have him.

"It's stupid." I hide my face I try to enjoy the rhythmic sound of his chest heaving lulling me to sleep. I don’t want to burden him with my rant.

"Nothing is stupid for me in the regards of you." The soft words make me keen he aligns our faces so he can meet my eye I scowl at the lost contact and he smiles seeing it. I'm sure he is aware of the reactions he extorts out of me.

"Do you want a punch?" I poke his forehead using my index finger trying to get rid of that charming smile but it just grows wider. My plan always backfires.

"Always so violent." He grabs my finger scraping it lightly with his teeth playfully seeing the horrified look on my face he smirks after attaching my soul back to my body I pull my finger out of his mouth yelling and smearing the excess saliva onto his shirt in disgust.

"Ugh! What is wrong with you?" I yell moving to the far side of the sofa looking at my finger in disbelief. He stands up clearly entertained by my reaction but he turns back before entering my room.

"Where's your blowdryer? You'll get sick if you leave your hair like this." Folding my legs under me I lock eyes with his waiting ones.

"In my drawer." I tell him and he gives me a confirming nod in return.

He comes back after a couple of minutes he has my drier in his left hand motioning for me to face away from him on the sofa so he could get access to my hair. I get comfortable as he plugs in the electric part while delicate fingers comb through my locks untangling the knots before turning the device on.

"I wish you would take better care of yourself Y/N. What would you do if I weren't here?" I lean into his gentle touch loving the way he rubs my scalp it feels like a massage not like how I usually blow dry my hair.

Now that I know what it's like I want him to dry my hair every day. But that's how Jimin works he always makes sure I'm alright he puts extra care into his motions silently helping me unwind. He’s like this with everyone and I’m aware of that but manages to make me feel special every time I guess it’s a special skill he has.

I scoot a little closer to Jimin’s body while walking which didn't go unnoticed by either on Han’s or Jimin’s side but it’s not enough to halter Han's wide smile as he greets me. As usual, he ignores Jimin and the feeling is mutual nothing out of the ordinary. I greet him back but lacking the enthusiasm which used to lace my tone. Now it’s something out of the ordinary.

"Hey Y/N, so when are we going to do that project I talked to you about? I'm free after classes today how about we meet up at our usual spot in the campus cafe?" Jimin was going to excuse himself from the situation as he did every time before but this time I hold him in place by his long sleeves I gritted my teeth holding back my witty comeback alongside the punch I want oh so badly to deliver, but what would I get out of it? He'll just jump to the next girl with better grades to help his ungrateful ass and I'm sure he won't give a flying damn about me or my feelings.

"Actually I have plans later with Jimin." I tell him holding onto Jimin's shirt for emphasis. He's lost for words for a second I never told him no before but he composed himself quickly offering a smile but this time a little tight-lipped.

"Oh, I see. Then how about tomorrow?" I let out an annoyed huff. Just who does he think he is?

"Listen to me very well resident fuckface because I'm going to tell you this once." The threat apparent in my voice he automatically steps back not used to the tone I deliver while I step forward. In the corner of my eye, I catch Jimin’s silhouette keeping his laughter inside because of the name Rori got him. It felt good to finally say it to his face.

"I heard you. Was it funny to use me? You're saying that I'm ugly and ungirly for you to date but happily let me do your homework since it's the only thing I'm useful for. Yes, I had a crush on you and yes I knew you were using me but it was a bit too much even for me to hear you laugh with your friend saying that you are not interested in fucking a boy." By the time I was done talking Jimin's protective hand found mine but I was too furious to appreciate the gesture to its full potential.

"What? I .. I didn't mean .. that Y/N I was just fooling around. Don't be a baby about it." Hearing the response angered Jimin he stepped protectively in front of me and grabbed him by the collar. I was afraid that he's going to hit him but I wasn't worried about Han. I was worried about Jimin he's too nice to hit someone.

"It's ok Jimin. Let's just go." I place my palm on his shoulder I felt calmer since I let out all my pent up anger he looks back seeing my worried expression he lets Han's shirt go.

He must mistake my worry since he strides to the building where his morning classes are held with a sour face. I go after his retreating form ignoring the yells from Han he is not important at the moment.

We planned an early morning coffee together what a shame we had to collide with Han on the way now we don't have time to grab it but I don't want Jimin to think I was protecting Han because that's not the truth. Jimin was always more important than him and he should know that. What would be even nicer than that to not voice it out and still being understood. Where is his mind-reading power when I need it?

"Jimin!" I yell his name I caught his arm as he was about to enter the building I dragged him to the side not wanting to make a scene out of the situation or block the entry.

"Can you listen to me for a second." I plead in a calm voice he looks at me with an unreadable expression on his face. He's not angry nor happy he looks completely neutral which is scarier to see than him acting all angry.

"I didn't want to meddle with your business Y/N because it's not something I have the right to do but I can't watch it anymore that you let this pathetic crush of yours destroy you. He was toying with you the whole time and you didn't care. Are you stupid or something? And even now you are worried about him. He deserved a punch but I guess since it's ok with you.."

"Stop." I warn him. He acknowledges the hurt in my eyes but it's too late. He regrets how rude he was I can see it in the way he shamefully hangs his head low.

"I wasn't worried about him! I was worried about you! Even though he deserved that punch I didn't want you to be the bad guy at the end." I tell him the reason. Knowing Han’s spineless nature he would have spread rumours about Jimin being aggressive or even worse.

"Baby." He starts but I shake my head not letting him comfort me with his touch. He's going to be late anyway. He needs to go to class his teacher is strict on punctuality.

"Don't baby me. Is that what you really think of me? A fool?" Onlookers started to form in the vicinity the only thing missing was the popcorn in their hands. Why everyone here lives for the drama?

I know I wasn't always reasonable but Jimin should know best that it was a crush and I never had a real relationship to compare it to and I was, yes, foolishly preserving the false hope that someday maybe we could be something.

But it happens to all of us, no? I just wanted what everyone else has someone to call and introduce as my boyfriend.

I'm lonely. But hearing it from him from all the people I know Jimin was the one I was comfortable with talking about this since I knew he wouldn't make fun of me.

"I'm just concerned about you. Please Y/N don't look at me like that." He wrapped his fingers around my palm stroking the flesh with his thumb hoping to get back to my right side. He has a habit of being touchy in reprehensible situations.

"Let's talk about this later. You'll be late for class." I take a glance at my wristwatch taking it as an opportunity to shake his touch off.

"I don't want you to leave angry." He catches my wrist before I could walk away. We rarely fight so Hoseok is stunned into silence when he sees us in this position.

"Hi Hobi." I greet him before taking my leave this time Jimin doesn't stop me.

"I appreciate the attempts Jimin but you know it's not edible right?" I look up with hopeful eyes that I don't need to take a pity bite. He's very sweet but he definitely doesn't get the skills in terms of cooking and I would like to live a happy and long life.

"I know. I'm sorry. I just didn't know how else to ask for your forgiveness. We never fight and I didn't know what to do."

I take this chance to really look at him. He has my apron tied around his waist with bold letters the words 'kiss the cook' labelling the front I remember I got this for my birthday last year from him he's kinda cute in it I admit that. He fidgets in his spot in front of me taking my silence as a bad sign but I'm not someone who holds grudges for long and Jimin is one of the few people I can't even do that with even if I tried. He's just too nice.

"I know you were just looking out for me. I know you didn't mean it because I know you." I tell him offering a smile along the way so he won't overthink it and in hopes of we can get rid of this plate of trash he dares to call food.

"You're very important to me you know right?" He murmurs the words into my hair he hugs me tight and I hug him back stroking his back reassuringly. The angle is not the most comfortable one considering that I’m still in a sitting position so I had to twist my torso to hug him back and he’s taller too.

"Of course I know Jiminie." I beam.

"You never call me Jiminie unless you want me to feel better. You should be angry with me and flipping the dining table on my face." The way he pouted while talking made the situation funnier.

I laugh at the image.

"I know I'm a bit violent sometimes, but you don't think I would really shove the dining table into your face right?" I gently push him back to see his eyes I'm actually concerned if he knows that or not.

"I know." He nods giggling at how concerned my face looks.

"Good. Now that we talked about this, clean this mess up so I can cook something that can be consumed." I shoo him to start cleaning.

”Have you ever entertained the idea of reaching out for the military to get this listed on the biohazard weaponry?” I playfully ask and he gives me a glare. It was worth it.

He pecks my cheek before he begins loading the burnt food inside the bin. "What would I do without you?"

I hope it’s not an actual heart I see in his eyes because maybe I have to consider flipping that dining table.

"You would be still relying on the emergency food your mother sends you." I reply with the same playfulness he momentarily stopped every movement to look back at me, surprised that I know about his little secret.

"Who told you that? It was Hoseok, wasn't it?" He manages to look at me with narrowed eyes.

"It's fine. You do a lot of stuff for me so cooking for you is really nothing. And I love how you eat like a pig it means you really love it." The narrowness dissolves into a big grin and dilated pupils.

"The girls I dated didn't phrase it like that." He chuckles.

"What did they didn't like about that? You are so adorable when your cheeks are full of food. I mean I was going crazy about your munching noises but I'm used to it now." I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly I remember how at first I wasn't able to sit at the same table as him I always disliked the sound of munching but now I don't even notice it sometimes.

"I know what Han said hurt you Y/N. But you know it's not true right?" He asks in a more serious tone the previous light atmosphere went gloomy so fast.

"Which one? That no one would want to fuck a tomboy like me? Or that I'm only good for making others homework?" I say it jokingly but he was buying none of my bullshit. He knows I'm still pretty upset about it.

"Neither of those." I'm flattered how severely he stated it at least one of us are confident in me.

"How would you know that? I didn't do either of those for you." I roll my eyes anyway I'm not that easy to convince. Self-love and rainbows and shit are not something I'm currently feeling. Saying nice things is what flows through Jimin’s veins more than blood. He is that nice.

"You are beautiful Y/N and I have an idea of how we are going to get back at Han." The lunatic laugh he does scares me but I curiously ask what he meant by that.

"What's that?" I ask straining my neck to see the advertisement. I shouldn't have done that. The article on the front page alarms me with bold letters. Under the words a girl with very white teeth on display putting the toothpaste commercials to shame. The catchy slogan seeping out of her mouth ’try out your beauty here and don’t forget the most important thing is not winning but also to gain experience’ What a full of crap saying. Only the ones who don’t win say shit like that.

My skin pales as soon as I see the way Jimin eyes me.

"The hell to the fuck no. A beauty contest? Are you insane? I'm not going to do that." Only for my words to fell on deaf ears.

"Is this really necessary Jimin?" My voice is full of uncertainty. I don’t remember the last time I went to see a hairdresser maybe when I was back in my hometown. And if I remember correctly it was for my high school graduation. Time flies fast.

"Yes, it is babe. You're going to look the best I'm sure you'll rank first place and make your ex-crush poop his pants." I roll my eyes but I can't help the laughing noises escaping my sealed lips. The assistant shows me the seat that I take with a shy following ’thank you’. I’m suddenly feeling nervous about this.

"At this point, I would rather do this because of you. I want to make you proud of me." I avoid his eyes I feel bashful enough that I dared to say it out loud for him to hear.

"But sweetheart I'm already proud of you." His palms rested on the back of my chair we were still waiting for the hairdresser to start her magic on me. We lock eyes through the mirror in front of me due to the eye contact Jimin’s eyes turn darker with a feeling I can’t truly decipher I haven’t seen him acting like this. I open my mouth to question his stare when the assistant’s high voice interrupts me.

"How long have you been guys dating? You're such a lovely couple." I catch Jimin’s widening smile he’s watching me not rushing to correct the girl like I do.

"Oh. We are not dating! Just friends." I tell the truth blushing.

"My pardon, I thought..."

"Anyone would be lucky to have such a cute girlfriend." Jimin cuts the girl’s apology making me focus on him again. Why is he like that? It’s not normally how he is. No, he’s just being nice again, right, that’s the reason.

"I don't know about that." I shyly comment. Don’t know what else to say.

Only then I can finally breathe when the lady arrives Jimin takes his place further away sitting down on one of the chairs in a row before the wall at the other side, scrolling through his phone since the professional said it will take some time to finish.

”Do you have something in mind?” I think for a while before shaking my head I haven’t thought about that honestly. It was Jimin’s idea in the first place.

”Um, curling it? Cutting the dead ends?” I offer and the lady nods with a friendly smile she starts working soon.

After the hair salon, we went shopping for a dress. He did all the reading while he applied for me and made a list of things we needed to get done before the Pageant. The first was to get my hair fixed the second one is to find a dress for the ending ceremony.

I struggle to bound the backside of the dress but to no avail, I can't reach the zipper on my own.

"Jimin?" I call his name rather uncertainly but it's the better option since I don't want the guy shop assistant with the rude attitude to touch me plus I trust Jimin. It's just a dress he saw me dressed up before so I don't know why I can't calm down the stupid pounding of my heart. It’s probably because of the way he stared at me through the mirror I tell this to myself.

"Yes princess, do you need help?" Now is not the time to think about inappropriate thoughts it’s Jimin we are talking about. A friend. I clear my throat before speaking hoping that the words will come out steady.

"Actually yes. I can't get this dress up can you come in and help me?"

I hold the front of the dress not to reveal too much skin this dress is so tight that I needed to get rid of my bra since my body won't fit in the front of the dress otherwise, I'm pretty sure the line of my panty shows as well but it felt too much to remove.

"You look beautiful." The praise made my heart melt his eyes shimmered in adoration as he found my gaze through the mirror he maintained eye contact while he reached for the zipper of the dress he touched the upper part of my ass accidentally my cheeks flushed in pink he rested his other hand on my shoulder keeping the dress together. What’s with him and mirrors? He seems to act differently when one’s around.

"Thanks." I whisper bashfully the tiny booth suddenly feels too hot not sure if it's from embarrassment or from something else I cannot put my finger on. He steps back admiring the dress and how I look in it with the help of his hand still resting on my shoulder he turns me to face him he looks up and down memorising my body seeing his gaze I feel exposed even though I know I'm wearing clothes. Partially.

"Hmm. So pretty." He slides his fingers down the length of my arm with gentle motions stopping at my elbow pushing my body flush against him my back collides with the booth's thin wall with a soft thud as I tried to gain back some distance.

The sweet cologne hits my nose with his eyes hooded he looks down mere centimetres away from my lips. He licks his telling me without words that he wants to kiss me looking between my lips and eyes for confirmation but he is soon done waiting.

I was about to protest when he leaned in which results in that our teeth clash but it doesn't deter him from kissing me harder connecting our lips together firmer with the pad of his finger Jimin caresses my jawline guiding my face to follow his lead. I can feel the soft press of his warm tongue asking for permission when the shopping assistant calls for us.

"Everything is alright?" He asks I'm sure he has his own ideas what's happening in here. We pant into each other's mouths we separated as soon as the assistant's voice reached our ears but Jimin didn't step back as I thought he would.

"Yes. The zipper was stuck but it's fine now." Jimin tells the guy and he seems to let that stay at that not intruding further. Jimin's cheek appears to be as pink as mine which makes me a little less nervous.

"I don't want to do this." I protest what feels like the 100th time this day.

We are currently sitting in the library and looking up topics for me fashin magazines littered in the tiny table and for almost 30 minutes since we got here Jimin's knee painfully touching my thighs under the table but I'm too afraid to voice it out.

Am I a bad person? Moving on this fast and pinning after my best friend like an affection starved bitch. Han was a jerk but Jimin is very nice which makes it ten times worse.

After our shared kiss in the changing booth, Jimin seems too normal. Am I the only one affected by it? I’m at the conclusion that it wasn’t even real and my head just played tricks with me cruelly. What frustrates me more is that I haven’t got a full taste and it’s affecting me nonetheless.

”Hmm.” He hums distracted not paying attention to my whining. He turns a page his face lit up as he positions the magazine to let me see its content. There’s a tall girl in a nice dress and each side there’s an article about manners. I almost roll my eye at that. Manners and I are not very familiar with each other.

”What about it? I thought I just have to say I want world peace and cry a little but you actually think about the topic I have to talk about?”

I remember him saying that in one of the rounds I have to talk about a chosen topic for ten to fifteen minutes. He’s more serious about this than I thought at first. Why do I find his determination cute and hot at the same time? Something is clearly wrong with me.

”World peace? It’s not Miss Congeniality Y/N.” He puts the article down laughing with his head thrown back but soon composes himself when the librarian warns us to be quiet or we have to leave.

”Yes, Jimin be quiet.” I retort however my smile vanishes when he leans closer his hand flat against my thigh.

”Did you say something?” His breath fanning my face he keeps his voice down this time. I don’t dare to look down his hand is awfully close to where I don’t want it to be and especially not in a library.

It’s like a switch is turned off and on in him at the most unexpected moments.

"You're being touchy again. Are you going to glare at every single male until we are done?" The corridor is busy with people and Jimin refuses to leave my side opting for helping me find the sitting room.

I wasn’t feeling nervous when I woke up this morning but getting closer and closer for the competition to end the nerves making my stomach flip in an uncomfortable way was getting stronger with every second.

"I'm just making sure you are safe, sweetheart men are wolves you know." He secures his jumper to cover my front. This bikini wasn't even that revealing for fuck's sake. Although he’s unnecessary protectiveness was enough to channel my focus into something else.

"You are a man." I state the obvious looking deadly into his eyes articulating the word ’man’ for emphasis.

I'm kind of done with his overprotective behaviour. He kissed me and now he thinks he is some kind of older brother for me. I honestly don't know what to think. And the way he teased me in the library. There’s no way he wasn’t aware of his hands on my body.

"But I'm allowed to look at you they're not." The little whiny edge in his voice doesn’t melt me this time he’s being childish. It sits on the tip of my tongue to say what makes you think that you have my permission, but I refrain from doing so.

"Jimin it's like the same when we are at the beach it's just a bikini and they will see it eventually when I go on stage." I decided to use another approach instead.

"I'm suddenly not sure about this. How about we get out of here?" The hand holding the jumper up strengthens on my body.

"Calm down. You made me do this so we're going to do this." I say it like there’s no room for discussion.

Two people were eager to make their existence visible while we were bantering I can’t say I was dying to see Han and his new puppet. Han wasn’t even aware it’s me next to Jimin I guess a little dress change and makeup do wonders.

"What a pleasant surprise to see you here?" I can’t say the same. Despite the thought, I remain silent but thinking again I straighten my back and call her out on her words. She’s a year above us I remember this girl because she’s always noisy in class. She retakes one of our classes that’s why my year knows her in the first place.

"Are you asking or stating it?" I roll my eyes Han's hand curves around the girl's waist holding her close.

Really her? He must be fucking her because there’s no way she can write his essays for him.

"Y/N?" Han's unsure voice makes me satisfied. Call me now ungirly you prick if you dare. But I can’t relish in the feeling because her highness speaks again.

"I meant it's nice that you are here since there will be a winner and we always need a loser." I’m not going to mention how unreal this girl looks. Her hair is blonde but it’s the doll-like artificial kind of blonde. It’s stereotypical but her voice is making me cringe it’s like she swallowed a toy duck the kind which whistles when it’s clenched.

"Hold your fake tits Y/N's going to win." I never heard Jimin using explicit words before I'm shocked beyond belief. Han’s eyes linger on the way Jimin holds me close, it looks like he knows something I don’t.

"5 minutes!" Hearing the yelling of the staff it's our cue to leave.

"What was that?" I'm struggling to hold back my laughter. We finally arrive in front of the door where a huge sign says the sitting room.

"She insulted you. I'm not going to watch this chick looking down on you." It’s just now that he releases his hold letting the jumper fall.

"And I'm thankful. The only validation I need is from you Jimin. Do you really think I look ok?" I’m nervous it’s totally out of my league to be here. The thoughts about those two leaving my brain easily.

"Look ok? You look gorgeous. Keep that in mind that after this day no matter what happens you'll remain the winner in my eyes." He massages my shoulders his fingers dig into my flesh in a calming manner.

"That means you’re going be proud even if I'm last?" He shakes his head in disbelief he has more faith in me than I have in myself.

"Don't say that. Have a little faith in you darling."

I smile as soon as I saw Jimin's figure lingering by the door our eyes met in the reflection of the mirror I put my flowers down on top of the dressing table reaching for him to receive a congratulation hug. I can’t say I'm disappointed that I'm not finished in the first place but I'm kind of happy because I ranked third place which is quite the achievement on my part and it all thanks to Jimin.

Grabbing my hips when he gets close enough he crashes our mouths together in a hot kiss moving his lips skilfully against mine with unconcealed eagerness like he waited years to do that. He steps closer traping my body between his body and the dressing table angling my head to slip his tongue into my mouth. He’s not as gentle as before.

"Jimin." I pant. "But I didn't get first place." I reason but he shuts me up with another kiss on my abused lips he gets my lower lip between his teeth basking in my reactions I let my eyes flutter open seeing his face this close he looks like an angel the only thing giving him away is that his eyes hid not so innocent thoughts.

"I told you. You're a winner in my eyes. Do you want your reward sweetness?" He kisses my earlobe after releasing my lip whispering into it before he moves down to pepper the exposed skin on my neck with wet open-mouthed pecks.

"Jimin, we are in public. Someone might see us." I try not to give in so easily but it was hard controlling my needs since the sexual tension grew tenfold after our little kiss inside the changing booth and the library. Shit, his mouth feels good on my heated skin.

"They're celebrating the winner no one will search for us for a while. How about we hold our little celebration as we wait?" The suggestion makes my eyes roll back into the back of my skull my legs shake in anticipation and he grins seeing my lust-filled expression.

"You're unbelievable. Do you want to fuck me in a dressing room while anyone could see us? Is that a kink of yours?" My head clears a little as he backs away looking at his reflection behind us in the mirror.

"I'm not going to fuck you here baby." His eyes focus on me again caressing the skin on my waist the gesture is lovely but I can't help feeling disappointed hearing his words. Of course, he wouldn't want to fuck me what was I thinking. We are talking about Jimin he could have everyone, of course, it's not me who he wants.

"Oh." I cannot help but let out a disappointed yelp he must sense my anxiety since he continues.

"This is just the foreplay don't be disappointed cheesecake. I'm planning on worshipping your body and we have no time for that here. I'm willing to wait to fuck you till we get home until then I just need a quick taste." He plays with the band of my underwear showing his intentions he undoes just the right side of the bow keeping the material in place revealing a part of my skin there.

"Bold of you to assume I'm going to let you." Hearing my mocking voice he places his palm against my heat making me moan out with how precisely he moves his fingers. It was embarrassingly easy to make me shut up and he loves it.

"Did you say something? I didn't hear you." He never falters his ministrations his index finger slips under the fabric feeling the wetness that gathered there he moans into my ear after he places a quick kiss to the underside of my collarbone.

"I said hurry the fuck up." I take hold of his biceps the slow-motion his one finger provides soon feels not enough to satisfy me.

"Since it's your prize I'm not going to tease you this time." He slowly drops down to his knees seeing him in front of me is enough to moan out and he cannot stop the light chuckle leaving his lips the lips he’s going to wrap around my heat.

"I was waiting to get you out of those the moment I saw you in them." He plays with the other side of the bow which is still in place. Once it’s undone he shoves the material into his pockets. I realise that I don’t know much about him at all in the field of sex. We never talked about it but I knew he’s not a virgin.

"Hmm, that's why you were covering me the whole time? It was not because of the boys, was it? You covered me so I won't give you a boner while we wait for the staff's call." He chooses this exact moment to lick a long drawn out stripe up my folds sucking on my clit in a teasing manner. He hooks a hand under my leg to position it and lift it onto his shoulder for better access. My long-nailed fingers pull on his hair.

"You figured me all out, baby. Now less talking and more moaning." Ending his statement he dives in my legs shake due to the pleasure he sure does know his ways around a women body. I wonder how many partners he had but I need only one finger to slip inside to forget every thought I had. I whine at the stretch not because it’s uncomfortable but because it’s not enough I’m so wet that I could take him right then and there.

”Please, Jimin. Please.” At this point, I’m not even sure what I’m begging for but luckily Jimin knows exactly what I need. The neediness not only evident in my voice and soft mewls but in my body as well in restless shaking it makes Jimin smile against me he caresses the inner side of my thigh his tongue on my clit draws eight shapes his fingers slow but reaching deep it’s obvious he’s trying to extend my sweet torture.

At first, only using one finger then it’s quickly turned into two scissoring it occasionally making me ready for his cock the thought of him being inside of me automatically makes me clench around his fingers. The way he emits little sounds of appreciation while going down on me is a huge turn on. I doubt he feels better than me right now but sure does it seems like he enjoys it a lot more normally guys do.

”J-Jimin.” I stutter his name his tongue and fingers starting to feel too much for me to handle I fidget as much as I can while Jimin’s hands holding me in place I can’t hide away from the feeling and he doesn’t stop.

He speeds up his movements not listening to my silent pleas to stop the way he licks up every drop and welcoming the new waves of wetness makes my head spin. ”I’m going to cum.” I warn him I grab the side of the table I need something to hold on tight to ground myself against the intense feeling of my fast approaching orgasm. ”Ah J-Jimin.” He hums with his mouth wrapped around my sensitive bud I close my eyes so hard that I start to see red dots in my vision. He doesn’t stop even though I reached my high with shaky fingers I can finally pull his head the sight I see when he looks up to take in my fucked out face almost makes me push through another orgasm itself.

Jimin uses the back of his hand to wipe off the leftover wetness gathered around his mouth and chin it was glistening in the sun provided light. As he gets up from the crouching position he slowly lets my leg touch the ground again he starts doing calming smooth circles on my hipbone delivering light kisses on my lip waiting for me to get back to my senses.

He gives me the sweetest smile I have ever seen on him. Almost makes me forget how he was between my legs a few minutes prior.

"B-baby what are you doing?" I could hear the ragged breath he sucked in through his nose it takes time to get on my knees since they’re kinda shaky I grabbed his hipbone to steady myself on the ground looking up at his face with a proud smile.

I caressed the soft flesh under his shirt I could feel the muscles contracting under my light touches. I look in front of me to study the outline of his dick he’s hard and he’s hard because of me.

"It's not fair of me to take and not give back the favour don't you think?" I palm him through the rough material of his jeans he moans significantly loud it earns a huge grin on my part and an embarrassed smile on his. Cute.

"This day is all about you. I'm going to show you how proud I am because of you." Despite his words, his opposition was weak he let me palm him he wasn’t able to keep his eyes open when I applied more pressure. I love the way he’s so responsive to my every touch and the high pitched tone he moans in the back of his throat. The whiny edge of it encourages me to do better because I certainly want to hear more of those.

"By letting me blow you. Pants down." I raise one of my brows waiting for him to remove his pants for me. His eyes reopen when he doesn’t feel my hand on his body he looks down where I’m sitting on my legs knees bent he sucks in a shaky breath, pupils dilated and he finally nods he clears his throat to sound more collected.

"Shit. Fine."

"In any other situation, I would love to hear how vocal you are Jiminie but right now you need to keep quiet for me. Can you do that? Hmm?" I tease him I take a good look at his member his grith is quite impressive he’s thicker than it seemed when it was inside his boxers. Before I could change my mind or make Jimin embarrassed because of my staring I wrapped my fingers around him there are a few inches I cannot reach and It shouldn’t turn me on as much as it does.

"This feels so g-good." I collect the precum to help me move up and down his shaft, after a louder whiny moan on Jimin’s part I decide to hold him firmer he throws his head back both of his hands grabbing the table’s edge he’s holding back not to thrust up into my hand the pulsing vein visible as he bares his neck.

"A-ah please slow down, i-it's too much." Reciprocating the favour I lick at the tip while speeding up my jerking motions the double pleasure forces a loud whimper to escape his parted lips.

A knock interrupted our moment Jimin's body goes rigid afraid that we'll be caught. I withdraw my ministrations letting his shaft leave my mouth with a wet pop. Despite the risky situation, I can see it on him it requires a lot of self-control on his part not to thrust back into my mouth.

"Yes?" I answer going back to deliver a kittenish lick to his tip not letting the newly released precum go to waste Jimin stutters biting his lip hard not to whine out. My voice sounded worn out but the staff member didn’t pay attention to it.

"The closing ceremony will start soon." So she’s here to inform me.

"When?" I ask between licks I found the throbbing vein at the underside of his cock following the line up from the base to tip a low grunt leaves Jimin's lips I automatically gaze at the door but thanks to the noises of the people outside of the door the sound is lost within these four walls.

"15 minutes."

I hum against his dick in acknowledgement the vibration shoots another pleasurable wave up his spine immediately Jimin's fingers strengthen in my hair. "I'll be there." I pull away for a second to offer my answer to the assistant. She leaves after that.

"Let's bet Jiminie. Do you think I can make you cum within 15 minutes?" His eye flutter shut groaning when I apply pressure again using my hand to pump his full length this time it's easier due to the spit from the previous help of my mouth.

I use the heel of my palm to smear down the newly formed precum leaking from his tip he's extremely sensitive to my every touch I continue licking the tip circling my mouth around the head of his cock the pretty high pitched moans getting significantly louder but I let him he's close anyway.

"Y-you don't have to s-swallow it."

"Shit. You swallowed." I liked the way his eyes darkened by the discovery the salty taste won't be my favourite flavour but it was alright also this way it left less of a mess.

I need to be presentable soon. My jaw hurts because of the long use but it worth it seeing Jimin's fucked out state he looks even prettier with a sheen of sweat coating his spotless skin. It makes me proud knowing he’s like this because of me.

"Are you alright?" I comb my fingers through his messed up hair his fringe sticking to his forehead looking me up and down behind his long locks framing his eyesight with bedroom eyes slightly closed still trying to get down from his high.

"More than okay, baby. More than okay."

Circling his hands around my waist he pulls me closer until our bodies fully pressed together he rubs his nose into my pulse point kissing it I feel the faint pressure of his teeth that I grab the back of his head to pull it away. He whines because of the denied access but lets me pull him back.

”I can’t have a hickey Jimin, I don’t want everyone here to know what we did in this dressing room.” I reason but he seemed to like the idea, I hit his chest with a serious expression at that his wide smile starting to piss me off.

”Fine, fine. I’m surprised you still have the energy to be this violent. Jeez, woman.” Jimin wets his lips with his tongue his face shows satisfaction and cockiness. I wonder how many girls were able to see this side of him.

”We have limited time Jimin. I need to get that dress on.” I decide to ignore the smirk and move I don’t have much time before I need to get back out there and this dress is so tight to get on and now I’m sweaty too. ”I need help.”

”I would rather get you out of it though.” I turn my back to him so he can get the zipper up.

”Of course you would.” I roll my eyes following the sarcastic sentence.

151 notes · View notes

bgyulix · 4 years ago

Text

— just another edgy teen rom com

-> pairing: min yoongi x reader

-> genre: bad boy!au, high school!au, slightly inspired by the end of the f***ing world

-> tags/warnings: domestic abuse, child abuse, underage drinking, implications of drug use, also they smoke some weed but only a little, smut in future chapters, suicidal thoughts, despite all these its rather soft and yoongi is whipped

-> word count: 2,896

-> summary: min yoongi is typically someone you’d avoid, and definitely not someone you’d want to run away from home with. OR: having an existential crisis together on a bus stop bench in the middle of the night was not exactly the meet-cute you’d always dreamed of.

-> a/n: here it is!! i hope you guys like it, and if you want to be on the tag list just ask! im thinking there’ll be three parts, but there might end up being four, we’ll see lmao

-> chapter: 1 | 2 | 3

You’d been hit one too many times that night. It was inevitable that it would happen eventually; that a perfectly angled slap or shove against the wall would knock something loose, and you’d end up lying on a bus stop bench like a homeless person letting your wounds fester in traffic fumes.

The cold metal of the dirty bench bit into your thighs and the part of your shoulders where your jacket had ridden down. It registered somewhere in the back of your mind that you could just adjust your jacket and maybe shimmy your shorts down a bit, but you ignored it. You were perfectly happy lying here freezing to death.

Somebody had stuck some gum in the corner of the roof. Maybe you should take it and chew it and get a disease or something. That might be interesting.

Two buses came and went. The night grew longer, and colder. Less and less cars went past. Your shitty little neighbourhood had never been the busiest, and eventually the streets fell quiet and empty, with only the sounds of traffic in the distance and a moth buzzing around a streetlight to keep you company.

The pain of the cut on your lip and your black eye dulled down to a steady throb. It almost felt separate from you, the part of you that cared and the part of you that didn’t two different people arguing with each other while you listened in.

You heard footsteps, trudging up the street through sludgy puddles. They reached the bus stop and hesitated, like everybody else had when they saw your depressed beat up ass suntanning in the dinky fluorescent light. The part of you that didn’t care won out yet again and you didn’t even bother to look up.

They came and sat at the other end of the bench, by your head. You could see a tuft of shaggy bleach blonde hair in your peripheral vision. They shifted and grunted, their voice surprisingly deep. A sigh, and then they simply sat next to you in silence, and you absently wondered if they were waiting for a bus, or if they were going to mug you, or if they were having as bad of a day as you were.

“Rough night?”

You finally managed to move, arching your neck and looking at them upside down. It was a guy, maybe your age, with a nasty scrape on his cheekbone, in a camo jacket smirking around a split lip. He looked vaguely familiar, like you’d seen him around before.

Stranger danger! the little voice in your head that was still sane yelled at you. You ignored it.

“Yep,” you said.

“Yeah,” the guy muttered, “me too.”

He thumbed at his lip. It was bleeding a little.

“What happened to your face?” he asked.

“I got punched, I guess. What happened to yours?”

He snorted. “I got punched, I guess.”

“Welcome to the club, then.”

You settled back down, staring at the roof again. Your butt hurt.

“So, what brings you to my bus stop?” he said, his voice smug. You prickled at his tone.

“Your bus stop? This is my bus stop.”

“Nope, sorry. Definitely mine.”

“I was here first!”

“I’ve been having mental breakdowns here long before you have, sweetheart.”

You scoffed, sitting up to glare at him, your cold, tired bones groaning in protest. You noticed now the bruises on his knuckles, and the dirt stains - or what you hoped were dirt stains - on his shirt. His eyes were dark and catlike, watching you intently with something like amusement.

“I am not…” you grumbled, feeling suddenly pinned down by his gaze, “I am not having a mental breakdown.”

He quirked a brow.

“You’re lying in a bus stop in the middle of the night.”

“And you’re sitting in a bus stop in the middle of the night. You can’t talk.”

He chuckled, pointing at you. “Touché.”

A car went past. You sat side by side, hyper aware of his presence and the way his choppy blond bangs fell across his face and the way he was twisting the ring on his finger in his lap.

“You come here often then?” you said, casually.

“Occasionally,” he replied, casually. Just like you were talking about the weather. “Yourself?”

“Nah. I was just walking past, thought I might go somewhere.”

“But… you didn’t?”

“Don’t have the guts, I guess.”

“I get it,” he rasped, nodding sagely, “I always come here thinking I’ll get on the bus, and then I don’t.”

He pursed his lips, looking away from your face and to the road, glistening with dew and oil slick and hazy streetlights.

“Where would you go?” you murmured.

He shrugged.

“Haven’t really thought about it. Just…” he trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the street. “Away.”

Away. The dream of away was a fantasy, had always been a fantasy. One you consistently came back to after every fight, every hit, every curse. You rub at your eye, wincing when it stung. You wonder who hit him.

“Yeah,” you said. “Away.”

He sniffed, scratched his nose. Suddenly he shifted, straightening his back and his shoulders and puffing out his chest a little, any hint of vulnerability gone and replaced with smug cockiness.

“So you gonna tell me your name?” he smirked. You rolled your eyes at his obvious display.

“___,” you told him.

“Yoongi.”

Your eyes widened. So that’s how you recognised him. “Like Min Yoongi? The drug dealer?”

He scoffed. “I am not a drug dealer.”

You raised your brow the same way he had at you.

“I am not a drug dealer… during school hours,” he clarified. You snorted.

“Anyway, how would you know unless you’ve bought off me, huh?”

“We go to the same school. You’re a consistent source of locker room gossip. Everyone's scared of you.”

Min Yoongi rode a motorcycle and smoked under the bleachers and once told a teacher to fuck off. Min Yoongi could set you up with anything if you were willing to pay. Min Yoongi ran with gangs. Min Yoongi had fucked his way through practically the entire school. You either hated him, wanted him, or were scared of him. The rumours and chatter surrounding him was endless, and he did nothing to discourage it, getting into fights and into detention, showing up to every house party with arms full of weed and leaving one too many hickies on a girl’s neck.

And here he was in front of you, staring at his boots and shaking his head almost bashfully, you dare say.

“You don’t look so scared,” he huffed. You shrugged.

“I’m having a bad day.”

“Yeah, no shit. You look terrible.”

“Hey!” you cried indignantly, “speak for yourself, asshole!”

He laughed then, a deep, carefree rumble from deep in his chest. Your lips rose on their own accord, and you had to fight to keep the smile down.

He didn’t seem so scary. Apart from the blood, of course.

“You wanna get a milkshake?” he asked abruptly.

“A milkshake?”

“Yeah. I know a place that stays open late, not far from here.”

“Oh. Uh… yeah, okay. Yeah, that sounds nice.”

The place he led you to was a small, rundown building next to a service station, trash littering the footpath out in front, with a guy leaning against the wall puking on his shoes.

JO’S DINER, screamed the flickering neon sign. OPEN LATE!

You screwed up your nose and hesitated, eyeing the guy warily.

“That’s just Heegun,” Yoongi said, nudging you, “‘sup, Heegun!”

Heegun raised a hand, before he doubled over and continued to hack his guts up.

Yoongi barrelled through the door, gesturing for you to follow. You hurried in after him, giving Heegun a wide berth.

The inside of the diner was vintage 50’s style, with a checkered floor and red vinyl chairs, and records and pictures of old cars hanging on the walls. It smelt of motor oil and fries, and scratchy music was playing through the speakers. One of the lightbulbs above the counter was out, leaving a weird dark spot, and there was a puddle of… something collecting in a spot where the floor dipped. The waitress at the counter was chewing gum and scrolling through her phone, her classic white apron covered in grease stains.

“Jisoo,” Yoongi drawled, sidling up to the counter. Jisoo, an older woman with extremely thin, overdrawn eyebrows, sighed heavily.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said. She had lipstick on her teeth.

“It’s me! How’s it going?”

Jisoo raised one of her fake eyebrows, very, very slowly.

“You two look like shit.”

“Yes, we know. Thank you. Could we get two milkshakes, if you please? ___, what flavour you want?”

You started. “Oh, uh, just chocolate.”

“Two chocolate milkshakes. And a large curly fries, I’m fucking hungry.”

Jisoo marked it down on a little notepad, and somehow even made that sarcastic.

“Sir, yes sir,” she grumbled, and pulled out her gum and stuck it behind her ear, “take a seat.”

Yoongi sat you down in a little booth by the window and slid in opposite you. The table was covered in crumbs and the vinyl stuck to your bare legs.

“You‘re a regular?” you asked.

“Well, they know me by name,” Yoongi replied. He leant back and rested his arm up on the top of his seat, a dark blot against the garishly bright diner, somehow more intimidating in decent lighting than he had been in the dark. It finally hit you; you were in a shitty restaurant with Min Yoongi. You were having milkshakes and curly fries with Min Yoongi.

Why not, you supposed, it’s not like your life wasn’t already a disaster. You put your elbows on the table, the crumbs digging into your skin. You didn’t have the energy to be disgusted.

“So…” you began, and then came up blank.

“So…?” Yoongi urged.

“Uh… how much were the milkshakes? Because I have like…” you fished around in your pocket, “two dollars. And five cents.”

He chuckled again, rich and gruff, and you swear you felt it in your bones.

“Relax, it’s on me. Like you said, you’re having a bad day.”

“And you’re not?”

He shrugged. “Eh. I’m used to it.”

“That’s not a good thing,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. He smirked.

“That’s life, doll.”

Life, indeed.

“So…” you said again.

“So…?” Yoongi urged, again.

“Is this what you do for fun? Come to…” you lowered your voice, just so Jisoo wouldn’t hear, “come to shitty diners in the middle of the night?”

He seemed amused, his smirk growing a little wider and his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yeah. This is all I do. Just this, nothing else,” he teased.

“Well, what do you do then? Other than this. And drugs.”

He leaned forwards conspiratorially and cupped his hand around his mouth, like he was about to deliver a secret, and you found yourself leaning into him.

He opened his mouth and whispered, “sell drugs.”

You scoffed and sat back, brushing the crumbs off your elbow.

“Right, of course. Typical.”

Jisoo appeared, a cigarette hanging from her lips, balancing a tray with two milkshakes and a basket of curly fries on her hip. She brought it down on the table hard enough to make both milkshakes spill over the sides of the glass.

“There, you little shits,” she grated, her voice like sandpaper.

“Thanks, Jisoo,” said Yoongi, going straight for the fries. “Heegun’s throwing up out the front again, by the way.”

“WHAT?” Jisoo roared. You flinched. She stormed across the diner, her thunderous footsteps making the table rattle, and swung the door open with so much force it was a miracle it didn’t come flying off its hinges. “FOR FUCK’S SAKE, HEEGUN, YOU DICK, THIS IS THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK!”

Yoongi chuckled at your shell shocked expression. “She’s a real piece of work, huh?”

You nodded mutely, and hid the way your hands shook by grasping your milkshake and bringing the straw to your lips. It was pretty good, all things considered.

The second the food hit your stomach, it rumbled audibly, and your head went light and frantic. You reached for the curly fries and shovelled the greasy things into your mouth like a starved man.

“When was the last time you ate?” Yoongi asked, eyeing you cautiously. You shrugged, which was a lie. You knew exactly when the last time you ate was; last night at 10:24 pm, sitting across from your father, listening to him rant about how much he hated his job. People yelling at mealtimes seemed to be a trend.

You both ate in silence for a moment, the sounds of Jisoo shooing Heegun away and an overhyped pop song in the background.

“We go to the same school, then?” Yoongi said, with a mouthful of food. You wrinkled your nose at him.

“We do. Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s gross.”

He snorted. “Yes, ma’am.”

You elected to ignore him. “We have literature together.”

“Literature, huh? I’ve never noticed you before.”

“I try not to be noticed.”

“You some kind of social recluse or something?” said Yoongi, raising a brow.

“No, I just don’t like making a scene, unlike some people,” you told him. “Beside, I sit up the back, and Mr. Ahn makes you sit up the front, so.”

“Huh,” he hummed, tapping his ring against his glass. Jisoo came back inside muttering under her breath, huffing cigarette smoke everywhere. “It seems like you know plenty about me, but I know nothing about you.”

“Not much to know. I’m not nearly as interesting as you.”

“Oh, you think I’m interesting?” he drawled, smirking.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, you’re always up to something.”

“What are you up to?” he asked, jabbing a finger at you.

“Me? Not much.”

“Aw, c’mon. You got no friends, no hobbies? Nothing?”

He was watching you in that peculiar way again, like you’d just said something funny but he couldn’t quite understand the joke. He looked… interested.

“Why do you care?” you demanded, narrowing your eyes.

Yoongi put his hands up in mock surrender.

“Pardon me if I wanna know a bit more about the random chic I found at my bus stop,” he exclaimed indignantly, gazing dangerously at you from under his bangs. You faltered and your cheeks heated, and he gave an amused little huff.

“Um… well…” you stammered, and sipped your milkshake to compose yourself. “I, uh… I like music.”

“Music, huh? What kind?”

“Uh… any kind, if it’s good.”

“You’re really not giving me much to work with here.”

“I’m… I’m in a choir?” you offered.

“Oh, you’re a choir girl,” Yoongi said, “that’s cute.”

You scoffed. “Cute? Excuse me, that shit is hard. Do you know how to tone deaf 70-year-old people are? Extremely. Painfully. And they pinch your cheeks after they subject you to their dying cat noises! Choir takes a lot of effort, thank you!”

Yoongi laughed and grinned, so boyishly that for a moment he almost looked like a different person.

“I’m more into rap myself.”

“You rap?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you any good?”

“Well, that’s - that depends.”

You snorted.

“Huh. I didn’t know you rapped,” you said.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Yoongi told you, and wiggled his eyebrows at you. You choked on a fry with laughter.

“Ooh, mysterious. Let me guess, let me guess - you’re addicted to anime. No, no! You cry at cat videos.”

“I do not,” Yoongi grumbled, “I have not once - not once - cried at a cat video.”

“Bullshit, you have too. I can see it in your eyes.”

Jisoo, from her place back at the counter, coughed loudly and pointedly in your direction, and you realised you’d been raising your voice. You lowered yourself back into your seat sheepishly.

Yoongi was still smiling, shaking his head in amusement. He was handsome, you thought. You’d never quite understood why girls threw themselves at him despite knowing the extent of his shady business practices, but you understood now; his mouth was soft and his jaw was sharp and his aura, while commandeering and a little intimidating, was relaxed and calm and familiar. You were having the strangest urge to reach over the table and brush his hair from his face, or maybe tap his nose.

He was… oh, he was cute.

He was smirking at you again. You were staring. Fuck. You looked down at your milkshake.

“You’re cute,” he said, and the milkshake went down the wrong way.

“What?” you spluttered uselessly.

“You’re cute. I can’t believe we’ve never met before.”

“Well…” you began, pausing to collect yourself, “...we have now.”

He grinned. You grinned back.

Yoongi walked you back to the bus stop, and when he asked you if you wanted him to walk you home, too, you refused.

“You homeless?”

“Just for tonight.”

He didn’t push.

When the sun rose, and you finally slunk back home like a dog with its tail between its legs, your father rushed forwards and drew you into his arms and cried apologies into your shoulder, like he always did.

I’m so sorry, ___. I didn’t mean it. It’ll never happen again, I promise.

He even bought you pizza for dinner - but then he got drunk, and then he did it again. Like he always did.

#min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts smut #min yoongi #agust d #jaetrc

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 5 years ago

Text

Meeting and Dating Austin Powers

(Not my gif)(requested by @jotaro-spengler )

(The meeting headcanons are meh but I tried)

- Like most of the people he’s dated, you and Austin first met as colleagues. Dr. Evil was at it again and it was decided that you were the best one for the job. That’s how you found yourself standing with Basil waiting for the international man of mystery to arrive so that you could start your mission.

- Of course you’d heard stories from your coworkers about him but nothing could have prepared you for what walked through the doors of your base. You felt like a bunch of cameras were going to come out any second and admit that this was all just one big joke. Sure he was from the 60s but come on.

- So yes, Austin was definitely an... interesting individual, to say the least.

- As per usual the instant Austin saw you he began to flirt with you. Pet names, innuendos, blatant propositions; you know the drill. That was when you realized this mission was going to be a long one.

- You were pretty exasperated when you first started working with him but over time you started to find him kind of endearing. His antics became funny rather than annoying and he could be surprisingly sweet at times. It seemed his mojo was beginning to have an effect on you.

- Austin is a self proclaimed casanova but that doesn’t mean he can’t be monogamous for the right girl, and guess what. You’re that girl. He’s absolutely in love with you so much so that it feels like he’s lost his mojo. Occasionally he’ll get tongue tied and flustered around you but you rarely notice since, well, Austin is not the sharpest tool in the shed.

- The two of you had some free time one night so he decided to go all out and try to woo you. Burt Bacharach, candles, roses, a romantic ride on a luxurious boat. It was beautiful and it really made you fall for him.

- After the two of you sat and talked for a while, he pulled you into a slowdance and confessed his true feelings for you. It wasn’t the most articulate confession but it was good enough for you and you were happy to return the sentiment.

“You’re special baby.... I mean I really like you.”

“If you want me to be a one woman man, well that’s just groovy baby.”

- The two of you shared your first kiss under the stars with live piano playing in the background and his arms wrapped around you. Ever since then the two of you were the grooviest couple on earth, no matter what decade you were living in.

- A lot of pet names and terms of endearment. Things like baby, darling, my love, etc.

- PDA. You’re drowning in it.

- Lots of compliments. He thinks you’re shagadelic and smashing and he is going to let you know.

- Helping him adjust to the nineties. You introduce him to a lot of new things.

- Playing twister.

- Dancing together.

- Going for late night drives together.

- Groovy photoshoots. He has so many pictures of you.

- Getting tipsy together in hotel rooms. He never takes advantage of you even if he wants to kiss you as much as you want to kiss him.

- He can always make you laugh even if a lot of his jokes don’t land.

- He looks over at you when he makes a joke and no one laughs. You either give him a silent look of disappointment or reassurance.

- Cuddling with your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you.

- He sleeps in the nude so be prepared to see him walk butt ass naked into your kitchen or bathroom in the mornings.

- Going on missions together and helping him go undercover or get information.

- Giving him the chance to say three puns before you tell him it’s enough and move on with your mission.

- Trying to stifle a laugh at his antics, the situations he gets himself into and his chest hair.

- Asking him to tell you stories about the past. Sometimes he’ll get carried away and start to tell you about a girl he shagged before awkwardly trying to change the subject once he realizes what he’s saying and who he’s saying it to.

- Can you resist his mojo? Can he resist yours?

- Before the two of you started dating it was very easy to trick him with your flirting and teasing. You don’t know how he’s survived for so long when he’s so easily distracted by attractive women.

- Helping him get his clothes off because god knows he isn’t able to do it himself 90% of the time; not without struggling for a good minute and a half.

- Making sure he doesn’t beat up old women or say everything he’s thinking. Let’s just say you’re the more rational and levelheaded one in your relationship.

- Helping him get out of dangerous situations.

- Him trying to proposition you and make a move at the worst possible times.

“Does that make you horny?”

“Not now austin!”

- Pretends to get stuck in your cleavage.

- Getting some of his world famous massages.

- Cat and other animal impersonations. They’re weirdly cute.

- Getting some 60s clothes of your own. His jaw drops when he sees you in them for the first time.

- Hand kisses.

- Playing chess.

- Him protecting you with his judo chops.

- Stealing his different lines. He won’t say it but he thinks it’s cute when you do.

- Teasing each other.

“Oh behave~” “Not if I can help it!”

- Most of the time he has a very unappealing way of saying things so don’t expect a lot of eloquent or romantic suggestions/comments.

- He always reassures you when you get jealous. Even if half the world wants to shag him he’s always going to choose you.

- When he’s jealous he gets passive aggressive. He’ll be sarcastic with you and pout to himself, not caring about anything else in the moment even if you’re on a dangerous mission.

“Why don’t you go and shag him.”

- Be nice to him he’s sensitive.

“Okay, I get it, I have bad teeth.”

- He’s quick to guilt. He always feels really bad when he upsets you and tends to go out on late night drives to think before he tries his best to apologize.

- He’s actually a sap. He surprises you with sincere and romantic confessions, especially after he’s messed up or you almost lose each other.

- Daddy issues. Be prepared for his father to flirt with you.

- His family reunions/get togethers are...interesting. You don’t know how to feel sitting across from your organizations ex nemesis while your father in law cuts up the Christmas ham.

- Any kind of kiss coming from you is a good kiss. They always put a smile on his face.

“Oh behave~”

- Traveling back in time with him.

- Visiting the shag pad.

- Going with him to his movie premieres.

- Even though he’s known as a playboy he’s actually really sweet and can easily grow attached to certain women. Years could pass without him seeing them or they could have never even dated in the first place and he’d still be hung up on them even after all that time spent apart.

- You’re everything to him even if you don’t feel like it sometimes what with all the women trying to shag him.

- He definitely wants to marry you as soon as possible. He’s especially excited for your honeymoon;)

#austin powers #austin powers imagine #austin powers headcanons #austin powers headcanon #austin powers imagines #90s movie #90s movie headcanons #90s movie imagine #90s movie headcanon

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just-mirko · 4 years ago

Photo

lavender petals - part 1

MASTERLIST

Mirko x Reader

Angst, Slow-ish burn, fluff,

WC: 4.1K

MANGA SPOILERS IN LATER PARTS

A steady and constant roll of tapping continued outside

where the rain poured down in fleets of cold water. The little drops all

together sounded like thousands of typewriters; the tiny stamps pressing fresh

ink stains into parchment. The storm did not only darken the sky but slowly,

the concrete was dampened into a charcoal shade and the glass windows collected condensation. The scent of petrichor had not reached where I was, but the

second I stepped outside I could already feel it overtaking my senses. have caused me to be

upset, and make me curse the heavens, but today, the rain started just as the

the shop was about to close, only 30 minutes till I would lock the doors and turn

around the little double-sided sign; switching it to “welcome” to “come back

later. I could not anticipate any customers would actively rush to my store in

the terrible weather, so I accepted it as an easy break where I could stay inside

and relax with warm herbal tea.

My shoes squeaked beneath me when I turned back to the

service counter. Aromas and floral notes were everywhere I stepped. Even if you

stood still, they still changed. orchids, roses, daisies, and violets all

dancing together in harmony.

Once I reached behind the counter, I could see every

corner of the shop in its array of colors that seemed duller than usual from

the lack of sunlight. Nonetheless, they still stood out against the dull pots

and glass vases.

‘I should be done for the day’ I thought to

myself, already having swept the floor, put out the new flowers, and clipped

the old ones before the storm arrived. An overdramatized sigh passed my lips

when I went to sit at the stool next to the register.

Sitting behind the register was always slightly

inconvenient, because blocking my view of the entrance to the store was a

large, and I mean large, bouquet of fresh lavender sprigs. They were normally

used as filler plants but had just come in today and I still could not decide

what to do with them. Additionally, I lacked a new arrangement to add them too,

so they were left out to stand alone.

By far they were the most prominent in the store. Their

sized rivaled all the large wedding table pieces we had. And the smell, though

calming, gave me a headache after being with them all day.

It is not like anyone would buy them either. They were not

as easy on the eye as a rose, three times as expensive, and once again,

typically used as filler flowers.

I settled on scrolling on my phone to distract myself

from thinking about what to do with them. I did not want to wait too long to

sell them lest they wilt.

‘Oh look, my webtoons updated.’

Fifteen-minutes passed quickly and mindlessly. Only 15

minutes till I could lock up and go home. The storm still had not relented, and

now, the rain was accompanied by large clashes of thunder and lightning.

These days life was quite simple. It was not exceptional

nor terrible, but a mediocre and peaceful existence that brought me the chance

to do what I loved. I had friends I visited occasionally, a small business that

was doing well with the white day just around the corner (an eastern type of

valentine’s day). But no matter how many

flowers I had, it wouldn’t quell the little part of my heart longing for

something more.

“CLASH”

The lightning what getting closer outside. It got louder

and louder, making me jump in my seat a little.

“CLASH”

The rain slammed into the ground, but something else was

happening as well. Something in the background of sorts.

“CRASH”

A resonating bang that sounded nothing like lightning

erupted nearby. A car alarm blared as well.

‘Could it be a villain?’ I asked myself as I look

over the purple blossoms to see if I could see what was going on from outside

my window. Alas, it must have been a street down.

‘Why would they fight in this type of weather though?’

Villain activity has spiked rapidly in the last few weeks as the League of

Villains had risen to power than out of nowhere disappeared without a trace. Not

to mention the capture of stain had encouraged many of the morally grey

antagonists to step out of the shadows in pursuit of their own type of justice.

Everyone had their own definition.

I tried to stay up to date on villain activity but so

much was constantly happening. Three times a week we got a new story. In the

beginning, the attacks seemed petty and selfish. Things like; “3 criminals rob a

local bank” or “Enraged fire-type quirk user burns down workplace” but today,

they were more organized, harder to stop. All the villains were working towards

a greater goal that was easier to see.

A little bit ago, one of the most popular quirks inclusive

department’s CEO joined the LOV after an all-out fight. Many were injured. It

was practically a bloodbath. Citizens remember seeing ice and blue fire merge

in giant tornados in the sky. The entire building disintegrated without a

trace. A witness with still in shock commented that she saw a UA student emerging

from the rubble, but that claim was shut down instantly by that student’s very

own teacher.

Unease was everywhere. People even began to stop trusting

figures of authority out of fear they might not be who they said. I was not a

target to any kind of villain myself, but who knows if I could become just

another statistic on the news.

Police sirens came into earshot.

I guess it was a criminal after all. Soon enough I would

be able to find a nice little article online detailing everything that happened

with a cover image of an unscathed hero smiling at the camera as if all were

well. How they tried to convince us that all was wel-

The chime of bells interrupted my thoughts when someone

came through the store door, very close to closing time.

When I looked up at them, I completely froze, unknowing

of what to do say, even think.

Before me stood… Mirko? Mirko. Mirko the Rabbit Hero. The

number #4 hero. The best female hero. And she was- Injured?

She stood with her shoulders rolled back but she was

panting heavily. Her platinum hair dripped water onto the pristine checkerboard

floors I just mopped. Across her, the skin on one of her shoulders was a crimson

slash. The blood that came from it dripped partially into her hair, staining it

slightly; and partially mixed with the water she was absolutely drenched in. She

looked cold in the light hero gear.

In her weak state, she still held an air of strength. When

I looked up in obvious shock at her condition, I was met with piercing red eyes

and a smile I would describe as manic on anyone else.

“C-can I help you—are you okay?” I stumble out when I

started to panic, realizing that she just fought the cause of all the racket

down the street.

My response only looked to entertain her, and she smiled

wider chuckled then pulled her hair over one shoulder: twisting it to ring out

the excess water (and blood).

“Yea, you do sell flowers, right?” She said. We were

obviously on different pages. She seemed completely relaxed as she was still

bleeding a watered-down red puddle onto the floor. Meanwhile, I was seriously

concerned about her health. Online, I simply assumed that every pro-hero held a

façade. That they were not as cocky, brave, or positive as they seemed once the

cameras were cut. This though was a spitting image of every picture of her I

had seen. Despite that, nothing could have prepared me for this in person-encounter.

“Y-yes I sell flowers”

I frantically scanned across the store for something for

my eyes to latch onto. My fingertips pressed hard against the side of the

resister to the point where my fingertips were turning white and my knuckles

began to cramp.

Mirko walked forward. Despite her injuries, she did not

have any limp and strolled casually over to some of the display stands

near the front window. I fidgeted with my finger while I stumbled over to where

she was. Her gaze we currently focused on some white lilies, though she soon

switched to some yellow roses.

“What is the, um, the occasion- For the flowers?” The

words tumbled out of my mouth. They felt out of order and out of place. Seeing a

hero in public is a strange thing. As amazing as they are, you always suspect

that there is an underlying threat of danger. You are both drawn to them yet

repelled by the hint. It's always ‘Why would a hero be here.” That wasn’t

the occasion now though. She was just- here for flowers? She was definitely just

off from work and needed a few band-aids; at most, stitches. My mind still had a

rough time thinking over why she so casual. I hoped this doesn’t happen often

for her.

Mirko’s fingers paused when she traced the outline of an

imported lily.

“A friend of mine got his ass beat up by a walking flamethrower”

The way she said that, so lightheartedly, with a slight smirk on her face, but

sadness in her eyes confused me.

“Is he a hero too?” I inquired; taken aback by the lack

of filter. It had nothing to do with the

flowers, but my curiosity got the best of me.

“Hawks.” She shortly stated before turning back towards

me.

A look of recognition must have crossed my face as she did

not explain any further and just continued.

“So…” She crossed her hands over her chest and looked up

towards me (we using Mirko’s canon height today cause she short short lol).

“What flowers would be best for ‘get better idiot’” Her

hair was still disheveled and soaking wet but the ethereal glow the rain seemed

to give her face made me want anything but eye contact. I shouldn’t really get

flustered so easily, but when a celebrity built like a Greek goddess steps into

your shop looking like she’s straight out of war…

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to make any custom arrangements

today because I’m closing-“I looked down at my watch for the time. “5 minutes

ago, but we have many premade sets and custom vases if you’re interested?”

I tried to seem chipper and avert my gaze from her hair,

bleeding shoulder, and foot that was insistently tapping on the wet floor, but

in between each word I stole a glace that did not go unnoticed.

“That’s okay, I’m fine with a pre-made bouquet.” I

fiddled with my thumbs once more. She was really giving me nothing to work

with.

“Any flowers in specific you like?” I asked, grasping for

straws. Mirko’s expression was perfectly neutral and ambiguous. Even if she

gave me a color, I could work off that, but all I had was a name and extra

mopping to do.

‘I wonder if blood will stain my tile’

What she said next seemed to fit with the personality I

was slowly assembling her.

“You guess.” And with that, she turned to look at more

bouquets and potted plants that lined the shelves.

The lavender! I thought, finally thinking I had found a

way to get rid of them but realized that may not be well suited as a get well

soon gift.

Hawks. Hawks. Hawks. The bird hero. The bird men. Red

feathers, right?

Because of the hero’s color pallet, per

se, I was drawn to red roses and yellow daisies, maybe some red and white

lilies. I found an arrangement I thought fit on one of the shelves next to a

window, where it was still raining outside. I carefully picked the flowers up;

their silky petals caressed my hand. Two petals floated down onto the floor as

I relocated them back to the assembly station.

“Would you like a vase with this?” I questioned. Her ears

perked towards me, shocking me in the slightest. Of course, it was not unusual,

but with how she seemed to hear me from across the room without turning her

head made me fear that she would hear my heartbeat racing in my chest. This was

a hero. A real-life hero. God, I hope I do not mess this up.

“Mmmhnn,” She said, inflecting that meant yes. I walked

near a shelf where we stored them and looked at the variety of glass, plastic,

and even porcelain vases reserved for special occasions. My eye was stuck on a

red one that caught the soft lighting of the store beautifully. I reached up to

grab it and held the cool glass in my hand. With the sleeve of my jacket, I

began to brush off some of the dust, ignoring the mark it left.

“Ooh, I like that one” I heard from behind me. Quite

startled I jumped, and the vase left my hand, seconds from crashing into the

floor. Before I could blink, Mirko had caught it agilely.

“The color is nice,” She said as she turned it over in her

hands, clearly pleased with having shaken me.

Honestly, the banter was a nice break from today. I guess

it would not hurt to lighten up a little.

“Yea,” I said with a gentle smile.

I had almost finished totaling her order and was putting

the flowers in the box to protect from the rain when I looked over at Mirko and

saw her quite intrigued by the lavender practically overtaking my desk.

“We just got that lavender in! It's fresh and quite relaxing.”

I hummed to myself, pleased with the wrapping I did on Hawk’s bouquet.

“How much for them?” She asked turning to me inquisitively.

“Well lavender isn’t normally sold alone but that’s about

10 arrangements worth” I said pointing to the sheer number of flowers. Upon

the counter, they were more than two feet tall.

“So?” She said, resting her elbows upon the table and leaning

in to smell the lavender even more. The ivory ears atop her head sloped

downwards a little more reminding me of a little puppy when they got pet. An

obvious show of their aromatic effects.

“Two-hundred, though I could definitely get you a smaller

amount if you would like, they’re sold twenty per bundle just because of how

hard they are to transport and a how delicate they te-“

“I’ll take them all,” She said with an aggressive smile

and firm shake of her head. There was a switch in her tone like she suddenly

decided she revealed too much of herself to the general public. I did not like

thinking that though. That she saw me as the public. Everyone wants to be

special sometimes.

“How was errr- work today?” I asked, clearly insinuating

my concern for her condition.

A small shadow passed over her face. Her eyes got a

little darker and the corners of her mouth turned down before her typical passionately

a confident smile came back.

“Nothing I can’t handle” Those smug words were

accompanied by a flourished wink that was embellished her white eyelashes.

“I heard a crash nearby. Was there a villain?” This time

she did not hesitate to answer.

She finished paying and gave me an address to deliver

them to tomorrow. One to a hospital, and one to a home address. I expected a

PO box and assumed her address was not something she just gave away, but that was

not the only thing I was warmly excited about. Instead of signing “Mirko” her

formal hero title on the receipt, She signed her real name, Rumi Usagiyama.

---

The weather was much more considerate this morning. When I

awoke, golden rays filtered light through my lashes into my eyes. The faint

sound of birds chirping and bustling people in the city below faintly reached my

ears.

I lived right above my flower shop, making my commute to work

conveniently. I chose to dress a little bit nicer today, opting for a cream-colored

turtleneck and dark washed jeans instead of my normal gardening attire. Spring

was right around the corner in Musutafu Japan. Winter was leaving and the city

was in the awkward middle state where it's too cold to wear spring clothes but

too sunny to stay in jackets.

Since yesterday was Saturday, I had today off, kinda. I

just had a few flower deliveries to complete before I could go back home and lay

on the couch eating watermelon sour patch kids (ichor itself) and reading

terribly done 9k fanfics online. (Wow! Our reader!! Is super!!! Self!!!!

Aware!!!!!)

My brain had completely blocked out everything that

happened last night, so when I checked my order list and saw Rumi

written in neat handwriting, my confusion was immense.

‘So, It wasn’t a dream then…’’ huh.”

I walked downstairs into my store. I saw a few

schoolchildren peeking in the dark windows since there were no lights on to look

at the flowers. I waved to them and then chuckled to myself when they left tiny

little handprints on the glass. Tall buildings could be seen across. A café, a

tattoo shop, a little library, and many small businesses that were nestled right

in the center of town where they got lots of attention. Around the back exist to

the stores were where most of the employees parked. My friend and co-worker had

called in sick this weekend, so it meant I had to do all the deliveries myself.

I went over to the storage room. A wave of cold rushed

over me and sent tingles down my entire body. This was always kept cold to keep

the flowers alive longer, but always hated retrieving boxes from there.

I steadily grabbed the lavender-filled box and stacked

Hawk’s arrangement box on top of it. The white cardboard stood so tall in front

of me when I held them I could barely see when I walked out the back door and

over to my car where I nearly dropped them loading them into my car’s trunk.

I clumsily got into the driver’s seat and started the

engine to head to the first address. Hawk’s hospital. Right in the center of

town, it was only 10 minutes when you accounted for traffic.

The hospital was the nicest in Mafatsu, with white pillars

and balconies on some patient's rooms. Only the best for heroes. When I got out

of my car and drew near, the building felt like it was swallowing me whole in

its large size.

My soft footsteps appeared insignificant with prestigious

doctors and nurses bustling around in choreographed chaos. When I got to the reception

area, a pink-haired nurse with a kind smile greeted me cheerfully.

“Hello! How can I help you today?” She began typing before

I even said anything. Maybe a prediction quirk.

“Hey, I’m here to drop off flowers from Mirko for Hawks?”

She nodded in understanding and scanned her eyes over my

body, then the box I was holding, all while typing fluidly into a computer. Finally,

her gaze broke and she looked down at a small printer that made a small sticker

with the words visitor pass in bolded font.

“He will be on the top floor, level 60 in room 219. If he

isn’t in his room, just call a nurse with the pager in there, he’s been getting

out a lot recently.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“He really just wants to get back to work but whenever he

flies he leaves a trail of blood and feather in his path”

Her hair swished when she leaned over to give

me the papery sticker. Her fingertips brushed against my palm for a second

longer than platonic before she went back and waved goodbye to me. Her cheeks were tinted slightly pink.

The encounter made my heart rush but that might just because

it’s the first romantic-ish thing that has happened to me in a while. I mean

she was pretty- but we scarcely talked. My palm still tingled where our hands

touched though. I was so distracted I did not notice when I found myself in Hawk’s

room.

I had never delivered anything to a hero before. Should I

just drop them in and leave? My hand rested atop the doorknob questioning how

to do this. The fluorescent hospital lights desaturated everything including my

ability to make cohesive thoughts.

Just as I opened the door, I heard a shattering sound,

something collapsing, and then

“Wait no shit-“Another thing fell to the ground. “-fuck” I

carefully opened the door. To see Hawk’s the pro hero, clutching his side with

one hand, and holding a sideways IV drip in one hand, but the fluid bag itself

was on the floor, along with some kind of glass and a medical device I couldn’t

identify from the various dents and scratches on it. It did not look like he

noticed me yet, he was much too preoccupied.

“Hey should-“

“AH!” He yelled turning towards me. I couldn’t flinch

fast enough before three-foot-long red feathers with murderous intent came

spearing towards my head. Within that instant in closed my eyes prepared to be

dead but when I opened them up, the feathers were hovering just centimeters

away from my skull.

I shocked me that I was still holding the flower box when

I checked. My eyes were wide as I stood still, jaw open, not a single breath

leaving my mouth.

“Are you a new nurse or something?” The feathers remained

there. I gulped before answering, my body felt light, flight, or fight already taking

place.

“I’m a- a florist.” I gestured down at the box with my

logo on it, and he seemed to relax a little bit.

“Oh.” He replied and the feathers returned to beside him.

He tried to make the IV drip stand back up again, but in a futile attempt he

gave up, just letting it fall to the group beside the other tools. He turned away

from me.

‘He is obviously in pain right now’ He faced away just

to hide the scowl and how much he was now clutching his side.

He looked over his shoulder “Who sent you?”

“Mirko” I responded relieve that he was no longer about

to kill me.

“Where should I leave the flowers?”

“The table next to my bed” I stepped over there. An

assortment of papers where there is messy handwriting that I had no place in

reading. Nonetheless, I caught the words “Touya.” Too bad I didn’t know any Touyas.

I sat the box down and opened it up.

Luckily with everything that went on, I didn’t destroy any

of the blooms.

“Did Mirko say anything about me?” He questioned quickly.

As much as he tried to seem tough, he valued her opinion very much.

“Get well soon and all of that, nothing much, she was too

busy teasing me, you know?”

“Mirko was? Teasing you?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion

before settling into a knowing look.

“Ohhhh” He winked.

“No no, it's nothing like this I promise I just met her.”

“Mmmn k” He didn’t believe me in the slightest.

“Just watch out she packs a punch”

Hawks walked over to where the flowers were and observed

the arrangement. He had a particular fondness for the red lilies, the same ones

that Mirko liked. He talks about her punch though reminded me of the crashes

and villain attack last night.

“I hope she’s okay, she seemed pretty beat up last night

after the battle.”

“Eh, she recovers inhumanly quick. Something to do with the

rabbit in her.”

He looks over to me and paused.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/N)”

“(Y/N Hmmm) He mumbled to himself like he was getting

used to the way it sounded.

“I can’t imagine this will be our last encounter (Y/N),

It was nice to meet you.”

I smiled graciously and sighed.

“Nice to meet you too.”

#bnhabookclub #mirkobnha #miruko #mirukobnha #bnha fanfic #bnha mirko #bnha x reader #flowershop au #kinda flower shop not really its just the reader who works at a flower shop lol ahaha #mirko x reader #rumi usagiyama #rumi usagiyama x reader #just-mirko #justmirko #Lavender Petals #pegahawks2020 #kinda gay

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years ago

Text

Egg Meeting 3/14/2021

Alastor visits Valera on Okkylk to “meet” an egg! An egg which hasn’t been laid yet, but like, it buzzes in magic static that Radio Demons can detect, so it’s still an interesting thing to meet if you’re an Alastor.

Alastor and Valera spend way too much time talking about the weird magical interdimensional tricks that Valera’s species can do because at one point Valera went “Alastor mentioned some of his occult experiences and I have decided I will be polite and NOT ask him about them” while Alastor went “Valera mentioned some of their occult experiences and they’re absolutely fascinating so I’m going to crack open my little grimoire and ASK A HUNDRED QUESTIONS and TAKE LOTS OF NOTES.”

He also somehow finagles himself into maybe being a fake-uncle, making the short list for a hypothetical godparent position, and definitely being the official Nightmare PTA Representative at any future school functions.

They also ended up following up on this conversation and it was awful and nobody enjoyed it.

(Starts as semi-OOC chatter and then segues into fully IC)

Alastor

SHOW HIM HIS FUTURE FAUX-NIBLING

Valera

He can meet Eelizzy the spectacular staticy egg

dazzler of, as of now, 100% of the people who've met this literal fetus in an egg in someone's goddamn stomach

Alastor

It’s definitely a lot louder than he generally expects eggs to be. Not, like, *audibly* loud. But still loud.

Valera

it is the sensation of like. those old tvs. the kind of fuzzy when you run your hands in the air right over the glass

Alastor

That’s a good stim

Valera

It's a GOOD STIM and now Val has just accepted that people are going to want to skim their hands over her stomach every time Egg goes brrrr

Alastor

He only does it for a couple of seconds before he’s like what the *fuck* am I doing that is somebody’s belly and stops himself and apologizes, how very rude of him

(But once the egg is laid all bets are off)

Valera

That egg is gonna get so much touching.

Alastor

Everyone with their hands over this egg like it’s the dead of winter and the egg is the only fireplace for miles

Valera

If eelizzy didn't want that she should have thought about it before she decided to be a stim

Egg buzzes rhythmically to music, and the lil beanie baby of A Child inside will kinda wiggle to the beat, which right now Val feels as a vague shifting of weight.

This thing has been exposed to music since it was conceived, it's too late for her

Alastor

Alastor will absolutely play some music for this egg to hear it buzz along

He’s like “You know my mother told me that when she was carrying me, a ghost would come to her and sing for me! She stopped hearing him when I was born. I don’t think I buzzed, though.” And then goes back to playing music like this is a totally normal fact to share out of the blue.

Valera

That's a very normal and not at all weird thing to tell someone. Yep. Fun little factoid to share with a friend.

Val just has to accept this as a new thing they know!!! "Well, hopefully I won't stop hearing you when Elizzy is born! I'm not too bad at charades, but it *would* complicate things."

Alastor

“Well, you could hear me just fine before then, so it’s probably fine!

Valera

Alastor sure had a WEIRD LIFE and Val is NOT SURE what to make of the snippets they heard. Humans aren't usually so Aware

Alastor

:) a special boy

Valera

On one hand, they almost want to *congratulate* him, on the other, did he get robbed of a normal childhood??? Should they offer condolences??? Help.

Alastor

:) :)

Valera

It worked out for him at least but at what cost....

Val doesn't actually know anything about his home life growing up! Like did he have a dad in the picture? Match and Leal didn't, but This guy has Surprised Her Before

Alastor

:) :) :)

Does Val ask or just Wonder?

Valera

They're still anxious about Alastor getting the wrong idea from them asking questions so they would Not ask.

They kept scwunching at the rehearsal because Leal was sitting with their main body patting them and singing in french to Soothe Their Dumb Ass

Alastor

So he just shares a weird-ass anecdote and then they marinate in the moment. Delightfully awkward

Valera

YEP

A little quip and then several seconds of dead air while Val goes on a face journey.

valera, wildly overthinking the second she doesn't have someone literally or figuratively holding her hand through a Social Interaction With Someone She Is Unsure Of Boundaries With

alastor: I was a haunted baby.

val: ..................... cool

Alastor

Alastor: and now I’m haunting YOUR baby! Haha isn’t that fun

Valera

Valera: A proud and noble tradition of baby haunting. Can't wait to see who she decides to haunt later in life.

Alastor

Alastor: ......... Do Veci have ghosts when they die?

He doesn’t know how Veci work, just that afterlives are something that happens to other people

Valera

Val: Nope, when we die for good our gods destroy our souls and recycle them. Unless you're an Autocrat, then you're turned into one of their little puppets used to enact their divine will and guide the next Autocrat. She'll have to find a mortal soul to haunt as a spirit.

Veci who die get put into the soul blender to get recycled for fresh soul meat

Alastor

Alastor: Pity. Environmentally friendly, I suppose.

Alastor: We just get thrown in the landfill and once a year a bunch of us get scooped into the trash compactor.

Valera

val: It's efficient! Kinda gross though, being made of the ground meat of souls. At least I get to look forward to a continued existence as some fucked up angel analog when someone makes me bite it someday. Wonder if I'll still recognize my kids?

Pat pat belly.

Alastor

Alastor: Can you ask your puppet predecessor?

Valera

val: I could try! He did have a daughter who's still alive, maybe if I made him manifest around her I'd get a reaction.

Alastor

Alastor: For her sake, I hope he does! Can’t imagine how awful it’d be if he didn’t! Although I don’t know how close you folks are to your ancestors. Even on Earth it varies.

Valera

val: Oh, very close! There are rooms in the Reppetto Compound still left exactly as the old owners left them when they died *hundreds* of years ago. There's never been a reason to clear them out, so we don't. I visit them occasionally, pay my respects. That's just the Veci though, I think the other species are much more practical.

Alastor

Alastor: ... And yet most of your ancestors get... “recycled.” They’re no longer around to visit the rooms left for them. That *is* a pity.

Alastor: Do Veci ever recognize shreds of their loved ones in their reincarnations?

Valera

val: Yes! It isn't unheard of for lovers to find each other again through old fragments, or a son to find that his child tugs at his soul to remind him of a dearly departed mother. Plenty of people recognize parts of me, some more strongly than others. Shreds tend to find their way back to their families. Sons, daughters, if you've experienced a loss you may find some glimmer of that person again in a generation or two.

Alastor

Alastor: Hm. Not quite gone forever, then. That’s good—the alternative is just too depressing, isn’t it!

Valera

val: Indeed! Full on reincarnation has even happened a few times, though the odds are, obviously, *incredibly* slim. We did have one guy though, who got reincarnated *three times in a row*. He's still alive, I've met him. Absolutely off the shits, never met someone less sane.

Alastor

Alastor: Hah! Is madness a prerequisite or side-effect to full blown reincarnation?

Valera

val: A side effect, I imagine! That would probably mean remembering getting your essence shredded and then falling back together. He likes to say he's "all there but the mind". What about you though? Was your culture close to your ancestors?

Alastor

Alastor: One side closer than the other. Some humans reincarnate, I’m given to understand, but where I’m from once you’re ejected from your body you tend not to get a replacement. Some stick around, most move on to one afterlife or another—and at that point you mainly reach them through long-distance calls, spiritually speaking. They’re still *there,* but... not on the same *level* that we are.

Alastor: It’s a trade off, I suppose—no reincarnation means no way to see them in the flesh again, but on the other hand they’re always *themselves*—they never become somebody different.

Valera

val: That.. Is very alien, to me. But I don't dislike the concept. Preserved in time, an individual forever, able to be reached but not touched. I guess, for us, since we live such a long time... We get a lot of time with people. By the time they leave us, they've usually said all they'd ever want to. If they pop up again it's just a nice surprise.

Alastor

Alastor: We seem to only get enough time to figure out what we're doing and pass on a fraction of our tricks to the next generation or two, and then we're gone and our descendants have to bumble around just like we did! Maybe we need ghosts more.

Valera

val: Sounds like you need more haunted babies to me, Alastor.

Alastor

Alastor: Why, are there any others around for me to haunt?

Alastor: anyway, I wouldn't make a very good ancestor, considering my distinct lack of descendants.

Valera

val: Just pick a baby and declare yourself part of their life! Step-Ancestor them before they can blink!

val: In all seriousness, Leal's already conceded the title of uncle to you despite you not even asking for it, I think you can figure something out.

Alastor

Alastor: I— Has he?

Alastor: Well—I was about to get all presumptuous and commandeer it myself, but—er. Good. Thank you. Him.

Valera

Val: He has indeed. As he puts it, you were here first, and you're Penny's best friend so *obviously* the role of honorary uncle should be yours. If sinners did godparents, I'm sure he'd ask you to be hers. Or I assume as much!

Alastor

Alastor: ... oh. Well. I'd hoped, actually...

Awkward shuffle.

Alastor: ... I mean, a child can have more than one uncle.

Valera

val: What had you hoped, Alastor? I won't laugh or anything, I just need you to be clear with me.

Alastor

Alastor: ... to be that.

Valera

val: What, to be an uncle? Or a godparent?

Alastor

Alastor: I'm not picky about the term. Someone close enough to matter. Uncle, probably, I suppose. I don't know what a damned sinner would do as a godparent—but I wouldn't turn it down.

Valera

A thoughtful look.

val: I'd love to have you be an important part of my child's life, Alastor. Though, from what I *understand* of modern human customs, a non-religious godparent usually just means that if the parents die, the godparent steps in to either raise the kid or find them a home that would raise them the way the parents would want. Largely symbolic, but important nonetheless.

Alastor

Alastor: It's hard to be non-religious within a religious afterlife. But—just for the record, if anything happened to you two and you *didn't* have a plan in place, I'd probably be charging in to do that myself anyway. I'm not about to leave that child in the hands of somebody who's going to be halfhearted about it.

Valera

Val: Well there you go! Already ready to do your job, and you haven't even been handed the paperwork or negotiated a salary.

Alastor

Alastor: IS there paperwork?

He's giving a Skeptical Look

Valera

Val: What, you think they'd hand over an orphan child to any guy who showed up claiming to be a family friend? They like seeing some documents saying "if I die this guy is who I want protecting my kids while they're vulnerable".

Alastor

Alastor: ... All right, fair enough! I was just going to kidnap her and flee into the night, but I suppose a paper or two would keep law enforcement off my back.

Valera

Val: I'm flattered that you'd get in trouble with the interdimensional magic fish police for Eelizzy's sake, but let's spare everyone the hassle. I'll talk to Penny, see if he wants to do the godparents thing at all, but I know what name I'd be floating.

Alastor

Alastor: Well—that's fine, then. Thank you. It's an honor to be considered either way.

He's all self-conscious now, look at this awkward man

Valera

Val: Of course! And at the VERY least I want you to be close to her when she hatches. Good old _Uncle Alastor_ to spoil her when Penny and I are busy.

Look what happens when you actually tell Valera what you want. Blurses. Blessings and curses.

Alastor

Look at him he's got heart eyes

Alastor: Fortunately, I'm an expert at spoiling other people's children! Don't you worry, I'll be loading her up with penny candy and letting her get in all the trouble she wants. Maybe even nickel candy if I'm feeling generous.

Valera

Val: How generous! And speaking of candy, that reminds me. I visited New Orleans recently on business and picked up a few treats while I was there. Do you want some roman candy? I know you don't have a sweet tooth, but it seems like something one should offer regardless.

Alastor

Alastor: ... They're still making that? Is it the real deal or did the family sell the franchise to some big candy company?

Valera

Val: I bought it from the same old wagon as always, so I believe it's authentic! Wax paper and all!

Alastor

Alastor: Well... sure, I'll have some. Doubt I have the right teeth for taffy anymore, but...

Valera

Val: You'll muddle through somehow, I'm sure. What flavor does it for you, chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry?

She will whip out a few familiar looking wax paper rolled tubes to offer him. Crinkly!

Alastor

Takes a strawberry one!!

Valera

Val: I'll be sure to let you be the first one to take her to buy this _particular_ candy, when she's old enough to actually enjoy taffy.

Alastor

Give him a second, he managed to bite off a bit and now he's doing the whole dog-with-peanut-butter routine

Valera

Oh no, that's funny. She is LOOKING and SNICKERING at this man. Who knew the secret to silencing the radio demon was _chewy food?_

Alastor

Alastor: ... You know I don't remember this stuff being so hazardous.

He was expecting a RUSH OF NOSTALGIA but then he was like oh right I didn't eat this stuff more than like twice when I was alive, I just saw at the cart.

Valera

The wax paper is more nostalgic than the candy, understandable.

Val: Not having good molars does that, I only ate the stuff the one time to experience it. I like the paper though, it's a very unique experience.

Alastor

HOLD ON LET HIM GET THE LAST OF IT OUT OF HIS MOUTH, he thinks he'll attempt to eat the rest later.

Alastor: We'll see when she's old enough to attempt to eat these things, but—I don't see much point in holding off on letting her try taffy just for ME to do the honors. Seems like a very little thing to make a whole trip for.

Valera

Val: Okkylk doesn't really have much in the way of taffy, I doubt it would come up.. and it would be funny to see her suddenly be faced with a chewy candy to struggle against. This is _guaranteed_ entrainment.

Alastor

Alastor: Hah! I like your parenting philosophy. All the same—no need to wait on me to go get the taffy. I'm sure you'll have more opportunities to pick some up than I will.

Valera

Val: Nothing wrong with a little light torment, she gets candy out of it! Builds character! But yes yes, I get the picture. We'll see how it shakes out, play it by ear.

Alastor

Alastor: As long as she's being duly compensated for providing entertainment! :)

Valera

Val: Of course! She's still my _daughter_, if anything actually upset her that would be a whole different story. Penny would be _inconsolable._

She would also be inconsolable but let's ignore the wibbly sad eyes Val gets at the very thought

Alastor

Alastor: I'm sure we'd be taking turns supporting him through the grief. One person alone wouldn't be able to support that weight.

He's got no doubt Valera would be duly distressed but somehow, somehow he feels like Sir Pentious would be more dramatic about it. Just a hunch.

Valera

There is a distinct possibility that one of the parents may be A HAIR more dramatic, and it MIGHT not be the one with a degree in musical theater. Possibly.

Val: It's true, he's pretty heavy. Like a weighted blanket of emotion.

Alastor

HUFF.

Alastor: I’m going to be thinking of that the next time he flops on top of me.

Valera

Val: Good, you can share my curse. Every Pentious is full of emotion, genius, and, honestly, horny.

Alastor

Opens mouth. Shuts it. Opens it. Shrugs and makes noncommittal radio noises.

Alastor: ... Frankly I don’t know what a normal quantity of horny is.

Valera

Val: I did research, but I don't know how sound it is. We're outsiders trying to look in to a very strange world.

Alastor

Vaguely nods, yeah, that’s true

Alastor: ... What’s the research say?

Valera

Val: Once a week seems like normal horny, in a relationship? A heightened few weeks or months of activity at the start before it levels out seems normal too.

Alastor

Alastor: Weekly?? For the same activity? That’s not as bad as I’d thought, but doesn’t that get boring?

Alastor: ... No, okay, I could schedule a weekly dinner date and never get tired of it, I’ve got no room to talk.

Valera

Val: I was going to say! I do all kinds of stuff on a weekly basis without it getting dull. Plus it does wonders for relieving tension, which I can appreciate from a medical standpoint.

Alastor

SKEPTICAL LOOK

Alastor: You find it RELAXING?

Valera

Val: Well sure! It's only nerve wracking if you aren't at ease, and after almost an entire _year,_ Penny and I have figured out what we like. Plus.. Neither of us sweat, there's no cleanup to worry about, and after the fact the brain gets flooded with feel good chemicals.

Alastor

Alastor: Oh, right, the feel good chemicals, right.

Valera

Val: Not familiar with them, Alastor?

Alastor

Alastor: ......... We’re passingly acquainted

Alastor struggling to figure out how to answer without Discussing Specific Sex Acts

Valera

The STRUGGLE.

Val: Only passingly, interesting. Well, you get a lot more of them with a partner, suffice to say.

Alastor

He's just 8)

Alastor: I would prefer not to!

Valera

Val: You don't have to! I'm telling you why the allosexuals like it so much. Or why I assume they do.

Sex talk with two aces this can only go well!!

Alastor

It sounded like Valera was speaking from a little more than secondhand experience there for a bit but you know what? Alastor isn’t going to ask for clarification. It’s fine. Doesn’t need to know.

Alastor: ... To be quite frank, I prefer far less to be a co-star and more to be a fluffer. I’m sure that’s going to disappoint him sooner or later, but...

Valera

What? The visibly pregnant fish might have firsthand knowledge about sex? Perish the thought.

Alastor

You never know. Mary made it work.

Valera

Immaculate conception of her husband's child, sell that story to the news!

Val: I'm sure you two discussed that before getting together, no?

Alastor

Alastor: ... *As* we were getting together, yes.

Valera

Val: Well then! He knows what he signed up for, and unless he says it's a problem, it shouldn't be treated like one.

Dismissive little hand wave.

Alastor

Alastor: Yes, yes. I don’t intend to treat it like one. Just... making conversation about the whole ‘get more with a partner’ concept.

A similarly dismissive little gesture.

Valera

Val: Ah! Yes, I see, that was perhaps too blanket a statement. Well, he has his other partner, I assume?

Alastor

Alastor: I assume. He hasn’t talked about their sex life. None of my business, I’m sure.

Valera

Wiggly hand gesture.

Val: Yes and no. You ARE his partner.

Val: I tell Penny what Leal and I get up to.

Alastor

Alastor: But do you tell my alternate about how often you have sex with Sir Pentious?

Valera

Val: If he asks! Which he doesn't, really, but we did talk about the finer points of eating pussy.

Alastor

RAISED EYEBROW.

Alastor: ... I don’t think the man I’ve been dating for under a month owes me the details of a near stranger’s sex life. I’ve only met his other partner a couple of times, what business is it of mine what she gets up to?

Alastor: I wouldn’t mind knowing what HE gets up to, but sex is a group sport.

Valera

Val: It isn't like he owes you her life story in hardback, but a frank discussion isn't going to breach confidentiality.

Val: Dating someone who is dating someone else means you're entitled to know what you're consenting to, Alastor.

Alastor

Alastor: I’ve already consented to be with a man who’s probably sleeping with someone else, I can’t think of anything else they could be getting up to that would possibly affect me.

Alastor: Unless their bedroom activities happen to include calling up all my worst enemies and telling them everything they know about me—but if it did, I doubt he’d admit so if I asked about it, would he?

Valera

Her turn to raise an eyebrow.

Alastor

Alastor: ... I don’t think they ARE, I’m trying to think of the most out-there hypothetical possibility.

Valera

Val: Good, I was about to be worried. But really, if those are the boundaries you're comfortable with, that's fine. But I don't think you'd be out of line to ask for more information. Either you'll learn, or he'll tell you it isn't something he wants to discuss.

Alastor

Alastor: Honestly, it... doesn’t cross my mind.

Man has no object permanence when it comes to sex

Valera

Val: Dare I say it, mood. But really, if that's how you like it, good for you, keep on keeping on.

Alastor

Alastor: I intend to!

Unless Telly doesn’t like it, but they’ll cross that bridge when they reach it.

Valera

Val: Then there's no issue, I hope!

Alastor

Alastor: One hopes! ... How did we get on this?

Valera

Val: I... Think it started when I called Pentious horny? And then you got worried about not being an active enough participant?

Alastor

Alastor: Oh, yes, right! But worried, no. Just a passing thought.

Valera

Val: Well, based on my knowledge, as long as the partner gets off they don't often care about the methods.

Shrug! Don't ask where the knowledge came from.

Alastor

Alastor: Ha! If it was that easy, I doubt so many people would be so distressed when the have to make do with their own hands!

Valera

Val: Did you know there's an entire subset of men that intentionally make their hands fall asleep so they can pretend someone else is getting them off?

Alastor

Alastor: You know, it just so happens I did. And I do not understand the appeal. It combines all the worst parts of getting your mouth numbed for a dental procedure with something half-dead and dangerously uncoordinated fumbling with your delicate bits.

Valera

WHEEZE... Oh that caught her off guard, give her a second to collect herself.

Alastor

He’ll wait. Smugly basking in his comedic genius.

Valera

Val: You said it yourself, sex is a group activity for a lot of people. Lonely people want someone else to make them feel good.

Alastor

Alastor: But if that’s all it takes, then why for so many people is a hand inferior to a mouth, and a mouth inferior to a more intimate part? No, I’m sure that there’s more to it than simply a desire for company when cleaning one’s pipes. The methods don’t trump the company, but they do matter.

Valera

Val: I could say more, but then I'd have to start talking about my own _alleged_ experiences.

Alastor

Alastor: ... Is the answer going to be something to the effect of “that particular bit of anatomy feels nicer against one’s equipment than other bits of anatomy?”

Valera

Val: Kind of. I'm sure some people prefer various bits, and they certainly feel _different._ I wouldn't say better though, just on physical contact alone.

Alastor

Alastor: ..."Kind of"?

You know what they say about cats and curiosity

Valera

Val: Yes, kind of. A hand can do things a mouth can't, and vice versa.

Alastor

Alastor: All right! That’s more or less where I thought you were going with that.

Valera

Val: Yes! Though there's a lot to be said for the varying degrees of intimacy.

Alastor

Alastor: I’m sure there is! No doubt there’s something special about the moment you finally get to show your loved one the parts of yourself you previously only shared with your toilet. ... So sorry, I don’t mean to be *dismissive* of the whole thing—I can just never quite get over that association, you know?

Valera

Val: Oh, no, I agree _completely._ Not that I'd tell that to Penny, of course. That would be cruel. But if my husband wants to mutually stimulate nerve endings a few times a week I'm happy to make him happy.

Alastor

SNORT. Mutually stimulate nerve endings.

Alastor: Well, what couples are equally interested in ALL their hobbies?

Valera

Val: None, unless it's two alternates of the same person, I guess!

Alastor

Alastor: Oh, you’d be surprised.

Valera

Val: Oh?? That sounds ominous. You know something I don't?

Alastor

Alastor: I know a lot of my own alternates, primarily!

Valera

Val: Yes, and I suppose even they have varying levels of interest in things?

Alastor

Alastor: Wildly varying! Why, sometimes you can meet yourself and wonder where you have anything in common at all! It’s fascinating, really.

Valera

Val: Goodness, that DOES sound fascinating. I can't imagine.. There's only one me, the idea of a me who isn't like me at all is just bizarre!

Alastor

Alastor: Only one? Or only one that you’ve found so far?

Valera

Val: By virtue of what I am, the only one! Unless something goes VERY Wrong.

Alastor

Alastor: Really! Do elaborate?

Valera

Val: I'm a singularity! There is one me, just in a lot of places!

Alastor

Slow blink.

Alastor: ... Like a god?

Valera

Val: Is... Is that a god thing?

Squint.

Alastor

Alastor: I don’t know many other things that can be in multiple places at once and yet remain an undivided entity with a singular source. Either a god or a radio signal—and signals can get distorted.

Valera

Val: ..... I'd rather be a radio signal than a god, honestly, but. Yeah, I guess? I didn't think it was so uncommon!

Alastor

Alastor: I’ve seen people so rare that even when they go looking, they can only find themselves in one universe—but that’s usually a trick of the universe itself, some little chain of cause-and-effect that only worked out once! Move a dimension to the left and their parents never met, move a dimension to the right and their grandmother died in infancy, and so on. But what *you’re* talking about—one person with a simultaneous singular presence in many realities? That sounds to me like something operating a step higher than your run-of-the-mill monodimensional mortals.

Valera

Val: I could turn on the TV right now and show you what the me in another reality is doing right now, I'm fully aware of myself. Are you saying you _don't_ have that?

_When you are suddenly hit over the head with the fact that you're actually an outlier and not the standard_

Alastor

Alastor: If I want to know what another me is doing, I have to call him up and ask! And sometimes I’ll find out he’s been hearing salacious details about my best friend’s oral skills. I can assure you I wasn’t fully aware of THAT, hah! I’ve heard of people with psychic sensitivities to their alternate selves—a sudden sense of disembodied alarm when something goes wrong elsewhere, emotions without a source, that sort of thing—but that particular sensitivity doesn’t come naturally to me. As far as psychic abilities go, I’d say that one in particular is notably rare.

Valera

Blink.

Val: Oh. Uh. Well. All of my species is like this. _All_ of us are singular individuals.

Alastor

Alastor: ARE you singular individuals? Or do you have alternates just like any other species, but because all of your alternates are... psychically linked, as it were, your thoughts are so inextricably intermingled that the whole lot of you consider yourself one person with one identity?

Valera

Val: At that point, what's the difference?

Alastor

Alastor: It’s the difference between a radio transmitter broadcasting the same song to a dozen different radio receivers, versus a dozen individual radio transceivers that play the same songs because they’re directly broadcasting to each other. Is it one singular thing that’s being witnessed in many places, or is it many separate things that have synchronized and homogenized with each other? In day-to-day life the difference might not matter; but philosophically, spiritually, magically, I think it all makes a great difference!

Valera

Val: Fair enough! But I still believe it's the former. The me you see now is the me that all the information goes back to. We've never cared enough to investigate it in depth.

Alastor

Alastor: ... Do you mean information *doesn’t* go back to the other versions of you?

He’s fascinated, he’s taking mental notes, he’s going all metaphysical occultist on this.

Valera

Val: Of course it does, if I don't intentionally restrict it, which is not something I'd be inclined to do. I'm simply aware of them the way you are aware of your arm.

Alastor

Alastor: So all versions of you get all the information from all versions of you.

Valera

Val: Yes! Unless I'm playing one of my games. Sometimes I'll make myself think I'm a normal mortal for a while. It's fun!

Alastor

Alastor: ......... Let’s unpack that a little.

Valera

Val: Sure! Where do we start?

Alastor

Alastor: Your “games”?

Valera

Val: Yes! A lot of Veci do it as they get older. They'll go to a universe and have one of themselves live a very normal mortal life, unaware of what they actually are.

Val: It's a fascinating perspective.

Alastor

Alastor: So, you cut off one version of yourself from the hive mind. And this version, I take it, then forgets for the duration of the game that they were once a part of a hive mind? Their memories only consist of what they experienced in their own home universe, and anything that they thought or did due to the influence of their other selves, they... what, make up a new false memory to explain away, something like that? And they aren’t receiving information, but they’re still sending out information for the rest of you to receive?

Valera

Val: Yes! Exactly so. A one way broadcast back to home base.

Alastor

Alastor: Huh! What about the people around the game piece who know they ought to be connected to other dimensions—or do you disguise yourself and drop yourself on some alien planet before you start the game?

Valera

Val: The latter! It's no fun if other people know things you don't, they could ruin the game for you. Unless you're going somewhere dangerous, then a lot of people will ask someone to send in an aware variant of themselves to help keep them in the game longer. Istoph does that for me in some places!

Alastor

Alastor: Does your game piece go in cold, wandering around like an amnesiac? Or are they given some sort of... of false set of memories, to blend in with the locals?

Valera

Val: Depends which is more interesting. Usually the latter, unless I can think of a reason that an amnesia story would work better.

Alastor

Alastor: And when does the game end? Death? Discovery? Is there a way for your game piece to "win" or is the game only supposed to be watched?

Valera

Val: It's usually for a set amount of time! A year or two, a decade at most. I don't let them Reproduce or anything, I don't want to go sowing any wild oats. That's how you get overly sensitive humans half the damn time.

A shake of her head.

Alastor

Alastor: ... Yes, that *would* do it.

Valera

Val: ... I don't.. I don't mean to imply _you_ were a result of that or anything. There is more than one way that could happen.

Alastor

Although he doesn't much like the thought that someone somewhere could use that information to dismiss particularly psychic humans as partially inhuman.

Alastor: I should hope I wasn't! I come from a long line of magically gifted people—we don't need the outside help!

Valera

Val: Hah! I know, I could practically smell it on you. If I turned you loose on Okkylk you'd get swarmed.

Alastor

Alastor: ... Swarmed like a dog in heat, or swarmed like a bleeder amidst sharks?

Valera

Val: .... Considering how violent Veci are in the act, uh. Both.

Alastor

A slow, slow nod.

Alastor: ... To steal my traits.

Valera

FACE JOURNEY

Val: I take it he told you about that one, eh? Not his finest moment

Alastor

Alastor: It will be my most carefully-guarded secret. ... But you knew about it already, so.

Valera

Val: To be fair, it's hilarious. I was minding my own business and then the guy I just started dating calls me to accuse me of stealing his traits like some kind of succubus.

Alastor

Alastor: ... I think succubi reproduce with humans because it’s easier, rather than because they want human traits. But don’t quote me on that, I don’t talk to many succubi.

Valera

Val: Neither do I, honestly. Plus, come on. Really? I could have just seduced him, I'm the one that insisted on a relationship.

Alastor

Alastor: Well, how many traits did you *want?* It could take a while!

Valera

Val: Oh yes, of course. If I'm going to get traits I may as well get a full set out of him! However many that is!

Alastor

Alastor: Only one way to find out!

Valera

Val: You're just saying that so you can flex on your alts with all the kids who'd call you uncle.

Alastor

Alastor: I’m willing to share unclehood with as many of my alternates who care to claim it!

Hand over heart, how magnanimous.

Alastor: ... So, are you only pregnant in this universe or all of them?

Valera

Val: Only this one. This is the only body that's gotten plowed by anyone and that's how I'm keeping it.

Snrk.

Alastor

Alastor: Then which universe any given Veci has... copies, facets, whatever—of themself in will vary wildly, depending on whether or not their parents happened to have synchronized date nights across those universes? I suppose it would be *easier* to synchronize up, if every version of you is connected—just like a whole line of dancers doing the can-can together—but what if one body sneezes and an egg doesn’t get filled, does that Veci just have one less version of themself than everyone else? Will Eelizzy have no other selves across the universe?

Valera

val: ..Do you think I'm going to sneeze too hard and shoot this egg across the-- Nevermind. Veci children aren't stable enough to exist in multiple realities, they have to grow up and get more control of their magic before they can manifest across realms.

Alastor

Eyebrows shoot up.

Alastor: No, I was talking about the conception, splash one or two drops the other way and... never mind, that’s the boring part! You’re telling me you start off as one singular entity in a singular universe—and *then* you split off into separate versions of yourself... deliberately?

Valera

Val: Well of course! There's only one Pelagios right now, he won't split off until he's fifteen for his first practice run, and then in earnest in his twenties. Rite of passage and all that!

Alastor

AMAZED BLINK. And then he’s opening a portal and hauling out his grimoire, ‘scuse him, don’t mind him.

Valera

She watches, slow blinking. What, did THAT catch his attention?

Alastor

Alastor: I should have been taking notes all along—I apologize, I do believe you were right, you *are* a lone tower transmitting to many receivers—or at the very least you do start off as one tower! How do you split, does it follow the natural branching of timelines—when two paths of history split over somebody’s decision, you just keep conscious contact with the two versions of you formed at that fork? Or do you create your duplicate self and then assign it to some pre-chosen timeline?

Scribble scribble SCRIBBLE scribble.

Valera

Val: The latter at first, I see a reality that interests me and drop in, and then as it progresses, it becomes the former. As the timeline I chose to investigate develops and changes, I follow the branching paths and observe the varying realities. It is *fascinating* stuff. Though sometimes a branch seems doomed, in which case I'll usually withdraw and send that variant elsewhere instead. Start the whole process over.

Alastor

Alastor: So you can pick and choose which path you follow—but you don’t AUTOMATICALLY form another version of yourself, only when you want to? That means that more versions of you AREN’T forming every single time a timeline you’re in branches, correct? But a single timeline can branch countless times, a hundred times an hour—I’m pulling that number out of my you-know, just as an example—if a timeline branches a hundred times an hour, then that means that in ninety-nine percent of all those timelines, a Veci living in it will suddenly... vanish into thin air? Is that right?

Valera

Val: Close enough, which is *generally* why we try to live very lowkey lives. Making new branches of yourself isn't.. *energy consuming* or anything, but you have to be able to process that amount of information. We don't vanish into thin air, but we'll often arrange a swift withdrawal. A sudden move, a staged home invasion, or, in a pinch, just erase ourselves from people's memories. Though that one is imprecise and often leaves lingering traces. Not ideal.

Alastor

Alastor: I imagine it explains an encounter with the fae or two.

Valera

Val: Probably? That's my theory.

Alastor

Alastor: And how often DO timelines branch around you, would you estimate? Are you abandoning thousands of iterations of the same place a day or... Well, I sort of *imagine* that time branches at ridiculously high rates, but I don’t actually know.

Valera

val: Not as often as you think honestly. Obviously it happens, but most people aren't wildly changing reality with every move. The butterfly effect is not as impactful as people believe it is.

Alastor

Alastor gratefully waves away the nightmarish thought of a million sad snakes wondering where his wife went.

Valera

Thoughtful hum....

Val: *You* probably caused a split, back in the day. There's a reality out there where you're dating the Pentious of your Hell. That was a fairly significant moment with pretty obvious impact on the rest of the population.

Alastor

Alastor: I’d always wondered about that! The whole ‘butterfly’ effect thing—particularly considering how often universes seem to CONVERGE on each other. Those of us who have more conventional alternates—it’s *amazing* how often I can talk to myself and think “why, you and I are so similar—our realities must have split no more than ten minutes ago!” and then I find out my other self has completely different parents and a big sister to boot. If two universes that started out in utterly different places can drift back together—

Oh. He stops talking with a noise like a motor dying.

Valera

Slow nod.

Val: It's not like every breakup causes a split in realities. But a drastic choice that results in explosions? Yeah.

Alastor

From 100 to 0 with one sentence.

Valera

Shoulder pat.

Val: It's weird to think about.

Alastor

Alastor: ... I hope he’s doing better.

Valera

Val: ... You're doing better too, Alastor. Better than you were.

Alastor

Alastor: I didn’t mean my alternate.

Valera

Squint.

Val: Your Pentious.

Alastor

Alastor: The one over there isn’t “my” Pentious. ... Sir Pentious. He’s just an alternate of my Sir Pentious, just like the one I’m seeing is an alternate of my Sir Pentious, and the one you’re married to is an alternate of my Sir Pentious. He just branched off a little more recently, that’s all.

Alastor: “My” Sir Pentious will always be the one that I backstabbed.

Valera

Val: He's fine. And *yours* will be okay too. We both know Sir Pentious is stubborn and unstoppable.

Alastor

Alastor: Stubborn, yes. ... We’re going to fix all that, though. So that this never happened.

Alastor: The original plan was to... to wrench the course of this timeline off its current path and onto the path it *would* have had if that decision had been different. But if you think the timeline *already* split there—then it’s not so much a matter of relocating this timeline as it is—just erasing it entirely, so that the other one is the only one left. Right?

Valera

She grimaces. That's a *lot* of people she'd be killing. Erasing from existence. Whatever.

Alastor

She agreed to it once before.

Valera

Val: Yeah, essentially. Not pleasant to think about, but... Yeah. And it's theoretically possible, but. Again. Fifty fifty shot.

Val: I'm... Surprised you'd still want to do it, though. You've got a boyfriend now. What about him?

Alastor

He squeezes his eyes shut and looks pained a second. That’s the same thought that he had. And that he HAS had about a thousand times.

Alastor: This was never about what I want, it was about him. Putting him back on track. Where he deserves to be.

Valera

Val: .... Not to... Okay, you know what, *yes* to be that person. But you want to help one Pentious by hurting another? If you wanted to spare the man you backstabbed, you shouldn't have started dating Telly. You *know* losing you is going to hurt him, *if* it works.

Alastor

Another pained wince.

Alastor: No, you’re right, I shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean to, but I did, and I shouldn’t have. And I knew I shouldn’t have, and... well. Here we are. But I can’t just—just change my mind, not when I have my first chance to make this right!

Valera

Val: I know. I understand. I—I wish I didn't but I *do* and I hate it. And I'm still going to try and help you. If you're sure you want to try. Even though this is. *Awful.* And only going to hurt people. Penny. Telly. Gods only know what will happen if we succeed. If we don't.. You'll hurt him anyway. You know this isn't something you should keep secret from him.

Alastor

And we’ve got a triple pained wince combo!

Alastor: How can I *not?* How can I just—just... happily go about my days, having picnics with one version of him and cuddling up to sleep with another, merrily getting ready for my big Broadway debut, dreaming about infernal conquest like I haven’t been able to dream in half a century—when he’s Hell’s laughingstock because of me?! Everything’s finally coming together for me, but the man I loved first and longest is a joke! How can I live out his dreams with an echo of him? What the Hell gives me the right to let a world like that exist?

Valera

Val: I know we've discussed this before, but. Tell me. Why haven't you tried to make amends? You'll never be friends again, obviously, but surely you could take out some overlords, or anonymously provide supplies... Do some networking, find allies to thrust his way without your name ever crossing his mind?

Frown...

Alastor

Alastor: ... I’ve done a bit. Taken out some of his rivals, that sort of thing.

Valera

Val: That's good! If your major grievance is that you've ruined his life, isn't it right to fix the damage you've caused, even if it's hard?

Alastor

Alastor: And then I heard him whining about how somebody else took down his foes before he had a chance to.

Wan smile.

Valera

.... Somehow, she doesn't look surprised. She just rolls her eyes.

Val: Okay, yeah that sounds like Every Pentious I Know.

Alastor

Smiles a little wider for a second

Alastor: Doesn’t it?

Valera

Val: I love my Penny, truly, but he's a _brat_ and so are his alts. You're damned if you do and damned if you don't, Alastor. Literally. You might as well be damned handing the man an overlord on a platter. Even if he complains, at least he's getting a chance to rebuild.

Alastor

Alastor: ... I—*hm*—but—It isn’t *right.* It shouldn’t be just, just... He’s had half a century wasted. All that should be gone. Not just made up for after the fact, but—GONE. Shouldn’t it? Throwing him favors after the fact is, it’s... it’s...

Gestures vaguely and throws out meaningless sound effects. You know!!!

Valera

A sympathetic nod.

Val: I know. Erasing it seems like the kindest option, but is it? Would that be what _he'd_ want? To simply undo everything? Or would he want to claw his way back to the top and spit in the face of every overlord who tried to keep him down? You know him better than I do, so this is not rhetorical. It's a genuine question.

Alastor

He’s gotta stop and stare into space while he thinks about that.

Alastor: ... If somebody asked the Sir Pentious of today if he’d want the last century of troubles retroactively wiped away... I don’t know. I don’t know if he’d rather *have* the throne or *earn* the throne. He’s never had any shame about using an unfair advantage, the only reason he was able to conquer half the States was because he was filthy rich for no good reason and he’ll tell you so himself, but... he wouldn’t want somebody else to do his conquering *for* him, but I don’t know if that’s what he’d consider somebody changing history for him. But if I asked the Sir Pentious of ‘66 which route he’d like to go on, the one where he’s got a loyal ally and can get on with the business of conquest or the one where he’s betrayed and has to start at square one just for a fun extra challenge, he’d ask me if I’m crazy and say he’d rather have the first route. No question.

Alastor: ... But he already HAS that route, if you’re right. If it split then. If it *did* split then, then I’m not... I’m not giving the one I know a little mind wipe and transplanting him sideways into a better reality. That reality is already there and populated. I’m just... destroying him. Right?

Valera

Val: Correct. Is that mercy? Is that making amends?

Val: Wouldn't it be better to improve his life, rather than erase him entirely?

She almost reaches for Alastor's hand, but thinks better of it. Fiddle with her necklace it is.

Alastor

Alastor: ... Is there a way to see? If that universe already exists? If it doesn’t then we can proceed as planned.

Valera

Val: Oh, yes of course there is. I could try to find it, put myself in it the way I do any other universe. Would you like me to?

Alastor

Alastor: It could settle things.

Valera

Val: True. Do I have permission to peek under the hood of your reality?

Alastor

Alastor: ... What, right now?? You can just do it on the spot?

Valera

Val: I could, but I'm not going to. I'm _heavily_ pregnant and my baby is liable to start spitting static that could mess with my spells. I'll have to wait until she's tuckered out, play something energetic until the little thing wiggles herself senseless.

She pats her belly affectionately, but with a roll of the eyes.

Alastor

Alastor: Ha! Right. Of course.

... Plays something energetic.

Valera

The egg, predictably, seems very excited about this sudden turn of events and starts throwing hissing nonsense static fuzz into the air with a sensation not unlike static electricity.

Valera raises an eyebrow at Alastor.

Alastor

Valera

Val: Spoiling her already, are we? She's getting big enough to actually feel her moving, you know.

Alastor

Alastor: It was your idea. :) But really? Through the egg and all?

Valera

Val: Yes! Soft shelled eggs are a lot easier to feel through than hard shells, and she is _wiggling_. It's not obvious like a human baby kicking, but there's definitely weight shifting.

Alastor

Alastor: Oh, right—they WERE soft, weren’t they! I was trying to be polite and not look too closely.

Valera

Val: Understandable! Amusingly similar to snake eggs, really. Which means by the time May rolls around I'm going to be strangling any radio demon brave enough to try and get this baby active.

She's grinning, but not in a way that says she's joking.

Alastor

Alastor: You were the one who suggested getting her to wiggle herself senseless, I’m only following your sage advice.

Valera

Val: You're evil. How _dare_ you listen to me. If my daughter wants to learn the trumpet when she's older it's your fault. She's being seduced by _Jazz music_.

Alastor

Alastor: I’m setting her up for a life of vice and villainy, EXACTLY as I’m sure her father would want.

Valera

Val: He'll want her learning the pipe organ and how to cackle maniacally. That classic Romantic ideal of brooding and fits of murderous passion. You'll have her _flashing ankles_ on the dance floor!!

A mock gasp!! Perish the thought!

Alastor

Alastor: All the better to shock and scandalize her enemies, right before eliminating them! If they’re staring at her ankles, they’ll never see her gun.

Valera

Val: Bold, I like it. But you'll have to explain that one to Penny, I can already tell he's going to be one of those dads who fawn over their daughter. Leal too, even if he insists he's not attached.

A VERY dramatic roll of the eyes.

Alastor

Alastor: Ha! Then I can do one better—I’ll get *her* to explain it to Sir Pentious.

Valera

Val: Oh that can _only_ go well. I'm holding you to that one, Alastor.

Alastor

A wink.

Alastor: My alternate can fawn over her—I think instead I’ll conspire with her. I just hope she’s a rascal.

Valera

Val: Well I don't know about _Penny_, but I was a rascal without equal in my youth! I knocked over half the shelves in a library and pinned it on another kid. I'm sure she'll give me as many headaches as I gave my caretakers.

Alastor

Alastor: Never you fear, I'll do my best to make sure she lives up to the precedent you've set!

Valera

Val: I appreciate that, Alastor! I'm sure I'll be much too busy doing boring parent stuff. Not sure what, but it'll catch me. Maybe I'll go to a PTA meeting.

Alastor

Alastor: A... what meeting?

The man hasn't been around children in almost nine decades, he'd forgotten such esoteric acronyms. It sounds like a military thing.

Valera

Val: A PTA meeting! A parent teacher... SOMETHING meeting. I don't know what the A is for.

Alastor

Snaps fingers! Now it’s familiar.

Alastor: Assassination.

Alastor: ... Wait.

Valera

Val: I don't think I'm supposed to assassinate the teachers. Although, if they're doing a bad job...

Kombucha girl face journey.

Val: No. No. It's probably association or something stupid like that.

Alastor

SNAPS FINGERS AGAIN.

Alastor: THAT was it! Association! Pity, “Parent Teacher Assassination” sounded far more fun.

Valera

Val: It DOES sound more fun. Now I'm disappointed.

Alastor

Alastor: Sounds like a fantastic parent-child bonding activity, too!

Valera

Val: Take the teacher with the lowest reviews and hunt them for sport? Sounds like something you'd enjoy.

Alastor

He’s got to pause and think about that for a moment.

Alastor: Who’s reviewing them?

Valera

Val: Not sure. The students, I imagine?

Alastor

Alastor: All right, seems fair! I’m for it!

Valera

Val: Good! You'll be handling the PTA meetings then, that's _one_ less thing for me to worry about.

Snrk snrk. She's kidding. Probably.

Alastor

Alastor: Oh, CAN I? I’ve always wanted to be a problem at school events! An *adult* problem, I mean. I imagine it’s a somewhat different experience from being a student problem.

Valera

Val: What, you want to get saddled with my kid for an evening to go to a school and scare the hell out of the staff?

Alastor

Alastor: Scare them, annoy the hell out of them, say wildly inaccurate things that they’re forced to agree with because they know I’m there on behalf of the autocrat... any of the above, really!

Valera

Val: Well damn! Alright, I'll make sure you go to at least a couple of them. If I send you and one of your alts we can _really_ get a show.

Alastor

Oh look at him he’s ecstatic. This just opened up a whole new world of pranks.

Valera

Val: I've never seen someone so excited about going to a PTA meeting. But hey, who am I to deny you fresh victims? Congratulations on your upcoming career in school harassment.

Alastor

Alastor: Thank you, I eagerly anticipate it!

Valera

Egg probably wore herself out while they were discussing the finer points of PTA sabotage

Alastor

yeah there IS a secondary timeline where Sir Pent and Al are Hell's most feared power couple. Airships are everywhere. Lucifer is going "oh shit the prisoners are unionizing." Alastor and Sir Pent wear matching outfits. They have a kid, where did they get a kid, did they adopt a baby imp or something??? what the fuck

Valera

Oh my god

Val takes one look at that timeline, looks at that Alastor, looks at this one. Looks back. "Well you're a dad in this one." And does not provide context

Alastor

Alastor just. Sits on the floor.

Valera

Well she can't exactly pat his head so they just have to sit there. Timeline confirmed welcome to die

Alastor

"What's their name?"

Valera

"What, the kid? I didn't think to ask. Does it matter?"

Alastor

"Just wondered." He's gotta lay down.

Valera

Guess she's gotta go try to learn the kids name now if Alastor is gonna be a sad floppy man. Feels bad.

Alastor

He was gonna be a sad floppy man regardless.

Valera

It is in the nature of Alastors to be sad and floppy men

Valera

But only under SPECIFIC circumstances

Alastor

Selectively sad and floppy

Valera

"...... Alternate timeline you's kid is named Codie Grace." Alright that is enough telling Alastor things about the future he doesn't have

Alastor

In one universe The Alastor That Didn't Fuck Up is probably giving Valera this c: look like do you get it. do you. do you get it. And in this universe The Fuckup Alastor is squinting at the ceiling and then suddenly goes "WE NAMED OUR KID *COUP DE GRÂCE*?!"

Valera

VAL GETS IT AND SHE ISN'T SURE IF SHE LOVES IT OR HATES IT

But it is VERY like them, the bastards

Alastor

Alastor just covers his face and laughs. It is the laugh of a broken man. Yeah. Yeah that's what he would name a kid, dammit. It's true.

Valera

Poor Fuckup Alastor

Alastor

"... Are they successful, over there? Are they happy?"

Valera

"They wear matching outfits and have airships all over the place so yes and yes."

She's gonna need a broom to pet this man with. There there.

Alastor

It's just a high pitched static whine noise. *Matching outfits...*

That's BASICALLY the exact same thing as marriage. You're married when you wear the same outfits.

Valera

What is marriage if not an elaborate excuse to wear matching outfits? Just keep doing it, forever.

Pat. Pat. "And now you know. There's a reality out there where you and your local Pentious are basically married with a kid and have airships over like, half of Hell."

Alastor

He's gonna. Lay there for a second. And process that.

And then sit up and cradle his head in his hands and process that some more.

Valera

Would he like.... Well. Not tea but she can get him some water. Maybe a coffee.

Alastor

Coffee would be nice

Valera

She can do coffee. Does he want any cream or sugar?

Alastor

Black as his soul. Like an edgy hottopic goth kid.

Valera

She'll get him some pourover, let him have a good coffee while his brain wheezes and stalls.

Alastor

He eventually gets himself up in a chair with his coffee. Look at that, he's almost human again. "So there's already a place where it all worked out."

Valera

"That seems to be the case, yes." The power of coffee, clearly. If only sitting upright really fixed your problems.

Alastor

A nod, and then he’s silent again a moment as he processes this. “So there’s—I wouldn’t be helping him. I can’t help him like this.”

Valera

"You cannot. You can't just wave away what you did to him. Not without ruining another Pentious' life."

Alastor

“It’s not just ‘waving away’! Don’t forget that doing this would erase me, too! It’s not *running* from the consequences of my actions, it’s *paying* for them!” He’s gotta hop up and pace. “‘Waving away’ what I did is what I’m doing right NOW—getting to—to move on and be happy like it never happened! How is that fair?!”

Valera

"How is it fair? Good question, let me counter with another." She sips the tea she got for herself, watching him pace. "Have you forgiven yourself?"

Alastor

He pauses for half a second, and then continues pacing. “Now, why would I go and do a damn fool thing like that?” He laughs wryly. “I don’t see how it matters.”

Valera

"Because you're in Hell, and why would Hell ever _really_ let you win?"

Alastor

“*Hell* wouldn’t—and that’s why I’m outsourcing the job. I don’t see what that has to do with forgiveness and fairness.”

Valera

"Didn't you think Hell has some measure of control over you, or am I misremembering?"

A stretch, and a hand lays over her belly. Rub rub. "Now. I am loathe to admit I could still try to break your timeline like a bone and forcefully reset it into a shape similar to the one I saw, but. I could. Though THAT is something I've never tried at all, I've got no idea if it would work."

Alastor “‘It’s not my fault, the devil made me do it’?” Alastor shook his head. “It’s my fault. Hell is pulling some strings, sure—it can, say, nudge things around to prey on your worst character flaws—but it doesn’t give you those character flaws.”

He stops pacing again. “What would that involve?”

Valera

She opens her mouth, closes it. Clicks her tongue. "That's what I'm figuring out. It *can* be done. I've never done it. But I said I would help you, so I have to offer it as a possibility. It would probably take something fairly drastic. There was a window between you making your decision and actually betraying Pentious, right?"

Alastor

A slow nod. “Ten or fifteen minutes.”

Valera

"There are... A few options. I don't know how *viable* they actually are, right now. I'll have to do research. But I *think* I could try to remove you *entirely* from the timeline at that point. Most likely through a faked assassination or kidnapping. That would break the timeline off the track that was set, an outlier that was not within reasonable bounds. Then give the timeline a few hours, maybe days as it tries to course correct and *cannot*, and then I... Drop *you* back in. Let you run back to Sir Pentious, alive, if not unharmed. At the very least, I'm sure he'd be too busy being glad you were alive to be angry that whatever scheme he was currently enacting got thrown off."

Alastor

He stops breathing for a moment as he thinks about Sir Pentious having to deal with Alastor so suddenly disappearing.

And he tries not to too deeply analyze his disappointment when Valera says they’d put him back. He starts pacing again. “And that would be—like we discussed before? This version of the timeline disappears completely?”

Valera

"It would be impossible for the timeline to continue as it was, so. Yes. You cannot betray Pentious if you aren't there. Everything would get thrown off the rails entirely. Timelines account for a reasonable margin of circumstances with everything people do. Most people rarely do things outside of their norm, so even small changes rarely mean anything and that's why they don't branch as much as people think."

She taps her stomach, lips pursing. "Again. Remember, I can't guarantee it would work. But it does seem the most *likely* to work out of all the options. The first obstacle would be me taking down the Radio Demon. I don't know if you're aware, Alastor, but I don't actually relish the thought of fighting you to what you'd believe to be your death."

Alastor

He laughs humorlessly. “You won’t need to fight. I can tell you exactly what to say to make me come willingly.”

Valera

Blink. Wait, what? She looks back up at him, eyebrows raising. "What, really?"

Alastor

“You think I don’t know myself well enough to know exactly what would make me shut up and listen? Don’t you have secret things that would immediately catch your attention if a stranger said them to you?” A shrug. “Anyway, I wasn’t exactly hard to persuade at that point! I’d just decided to escape a relationship by destroying everything he owned and running—if a stranger magically appeared in front of me and said ‘come with me, we need to fake your assassination,’ I’d consider it a miracle.”

Valera

Valera raises a finger. "Alastor, I am a stubborn, paranoid bitch of a politician. My own parents could miraculously spring back into existence and promise me anything I wanted and I would probably try to bite them. I can't be blackmailed because any time someone tries, I get my PR team to leak it themselves to control the narrative. I am TRULY the most contrary piece of work to get dragged into existence."

A pause.. Then she grins. "Lucky for us, you're not me. If you think that would work? *Good*. That's one of many obstacles down. A question, though, and possibly a dumb one. Would you even *want* to go back? If I ripped you from the timeline, that is."

Alastor

“Does what I’d want matter? Either you put me back, you exterminate me, or you drop me somewhere outside of Hell and I end up having to go back eventually. A disembodied soul can’t last forever outside of Hell, and I can’t move into a neighboring Hell without stepping on an alternate’s hooves.”

Valera

She rolls her eyes, sighing noisily. "Yes, it matters. Even if we can't figure out something better, I want to *try* and help you get a happier ending. Because right now, it's sounding like you're about to give up Telly to go run into your Pentious' arms. Which I don't think Telly would like much."

Alastor

“No! That’s not what I want! I keep double checking that this will delete the current timeline for a reason! If some different Alastor *just slightly* removed from me ends up with him, dandy, but it had damn well better not be me! I’m not trying to get back with him, I’m trying to get ERASED!”

Well. That’s sure something he said and can’t unsay.

Valera

She freezes, her eyes locked on Alastor's face. So, the truth comes out, does it? But is this the eye of the storm, or a defeated gasp? This may require some care.

A slow inhale. A shift of her weight as she sits more upright, face neutral. "I *see*."

Alastor

Those weren’t quite the words he expected out of himself, either. But he’s nothing if not impossible to shut up, so he swallows hard and soldiers on. “Didn’t I say, the very first time we discussed this, that when you made that other timeline, I didn’t want you to combine my memories with my past self—I wanted you to let me get deleted with the rest of this timeline? *This isn’t for me.* I don’t want to get him back—I want him to win. How isn’t that clear? If I wasn’t worried about what it would do to Sir Pentious’s psyche if his lover is assassinated on his airship the morning after they hooked up, I’d tell you to put a bullet through my head the moment you see me!”

Valera

She nods, chewing her lip thoughtfully as she watches him dig his hole deeper with every word he rattles out. She'd known this, really. He'd said it. But she didn't realize..

Well. Better late than never, one supposes. "And what about Telly, Alastor? What are you going to do about *him?* What of *his* psyche?"

Alastor

His face almost cracks completely, brows drawing and smile half wilting. He slumps down onto a seat again. “I shouldn’t have gotten him involved.” It’s not really an answer.

Valera

"No, you shouldn't have! But you did, and now you have another problem to solve. Because Alastor? I do NOT want to explain to that poor man that I helped his boyfriend erase himself from existence for the sake of the man he betrayed, and had planned on doing so before you two even met. You may not have to deal with the fallout, but *I will.*"

Alastor

He inhales sharply at the thought of it. “Isn’t there a way to... As long as we’re altering timelines, can’t we just... make it so he never met me? It was under three months ago, all it would take...” He can’t even finish. It feels like knives just to think about.

Valera

"I already find the idea of breaking your timeline dubious at best, and now you want me to alter the reality of my friend? An innocent party in all this? You *know* he wouldn't want that, Alastor. I agreed to help you with one very specific problem, it isn't my fault that you decided to dally with another snake and complicate matters when you knew your time was potentially limited to months. I wont help you fix that."

She struggles to her feet, empty mug in hand. "I am going to get a refill on my tea. Do you want more coffee, Alastor?"

Alastor

He glances at his cup. He still hasn’t quite emptied it. He shakes his head.

Valera

A nod. "I will be clear. I am not angry, I am not saying I wont help you. But I cannot fix all of your problems so easily. Your actions have consequences, and erasing yourself wont leave everyone happy and everything tied up with a bow." Her thumbs rub over the smooth finish of her mug, brow furrowing in thought.

"I am sorry, Alastor. If I could guarantee, one hundred percent, that I could erase you from Telly's life, take you back to your timeline, and wipe you out before you ever hurt your Pentious.. I would. I would obliterate your mind on the spot and let whatever version of you sprang forth, happy and in love, carry on with your day like it never happened. And I'd take that to my grave. But I can't make that promise." Okay she'd better actually leave, standing around holding an empty cup to rant at someone is stupid. Give her a bit.

Alastor

He nods vaguely, but although he absorbs what Valera says, most of his focus is on his own thoughts.

Telly. If he leaves, who’s there for Telly? Who’s the one who will bargain, threaten, or assassinate whoever it takes to get Telly the supplies he needs for his ship? When all his machines are broken, who’s going to be the one to fill the gaps with magic until they’re repaired? Who will tell him that he’s beautiful, brilliant, unstoppable, every day until he believes it himself? Who’s going to *feed* him?

Every single day, Alastor sees more of Telly’s real self—the person Alastor met just shy of three months ago is hardly a ghost compared to the person Telly is now. It doesn’t matter how Alastor leaves. If he just vanishes, then everything he’s tried to give Telly will be lost. If they never met, then Alastor never gave him those things at all.

He’s still brooding on these thoughts when Valera gets back.

Valera

Valera lets him have some silence, settling back down with her tea as she observes Alastor's stewing. Good. He's thinking. Maybe he'll think his way *out* of this idiocy.

Alastor

He’s working on it.

His Sir Pentious, though—the one he *betrayed*—nothing is fixed for him if Alastor *doesn’t* follow through. He’s still stuck where he is. So which is worse? Which weighs heavier? Never paying the price and making amends for the sin he committed before, or committing a fresh sin now? If no matter what he does, he’s got to knowingly and deliberately doom one of them to an afterlife of broken hopes and unfulfilled aspirations, which one of them is worse?

“... I made a deal with him.” Instead of trying to repeat it, he just plays it back, his own voice slightly cracklier than usual as if it’s playing back from a phonograph record: “*I swear I will never knowingly and deliberately or callously break your heart; and I swear that if I do ever leave, I’ll leave with kindness and honesty; and I swear I’ll never betray you like I did the Sir Pentious of my universe; or I forfeit my soul and all those I have to you.*”

He looks at Valera. “As far as you can think of—is there no possible way for me to do this without violating all three of those?”

Valera

Valera pauses, rolling the terms over in her mind. "You could tell him you can't be with him anymore because you realized your goals are incompatible. That would be a _kindness._ You would be leaving with honesty. Your goals _are_ incompatible."

Alastor

Nods, he accepts that. There are ways he could be honest without telling too much of the truth. Debatable on the idea that he’d be leaving with kindness, but he’s willing to let that sit for the moment. “The other two, then. I wouldn’t be knowingly and *deliberately* breaking his heart, since breaking it is just a side effect instead of my goal; but it would be knowingly and *callously.*”

Valera

"Is it callous, to try and spare him from further harm by stepping away? Because that's what you'd be doing, I imagine."

She leans back into the cushions of the couch, tapping her chin. "_Knowingly_ breaking his heart is the real issue. You've essentially _trapped_ yourself in the relationship. You can't leave while he has feelings for you, no matter how kind and honest you are, because you'll break his heart doing it."

Alastor

“I was damn careful with my wording to make sure I wouldn’t be trapped.” He shakes his head. “That’s why it has to be both. Knowingly-*and*-deliberately or knowingly-*and*-callously. If I know it will break his heart, but the heartbreak isn’t deliberate or callous, it’s legal.” He takes a deep breath. “But I’m *not* trying to spare him harm by stepping away. I’m trying to... disappear, to undo a prior betrayal; and, in the process, I’d be knowingly adding to the parade of people who have promised him the world and then ripped it away—and—and I’d be doing untold damage to his ability to follow his ambitions.” He clears his throat, his voice is starting to sound a little hoarse. “He wouldn’t be spared harm. Knowing the extent of the damage, I—there’s—there’d be no way to proceed without callousness. Would there.”

Valera

Valera has an argument already half formed, but stops. Cocks her head to one side. Why the FUCK would she try to convince him around to her side. This was basically a get out of jail free card. Her perspective didn't matter here, it was *his* contract.

"Y-yeah. If that's the way you interpret your contract, you're well and truly stuck."

Alastor

His shoulders slump, the tension draining out of them all at once. "So that's that? It's undoable." If he can't think of a way and Valera can't think of a way...

Valera

She lifts a shaky mug to her lips, squeaking out what MIGHT be the affirmative. "Mm-Mm!"

Alastor

“All right. That’s that.”

He expects to feel... maybe relieved. Maybe resigned. Instead, what hits first is an unexpected wave of grief. He tries to disguise it by rubbing his eyes with his forefinger and thumb, as though he’s just tired. “So—“ Ahem. “So. You and I shook. If we can’t proceed, then what’s... How do we dissolve that?”

Valera

Valera frowns, fins drooping as she wavers. But no. This is for the best. "Well, how do *you* negate a deal that is no longer viable? All you need to do is say you've released me from the contract, on my end."

Alastor

“You’re released from the contract if I’m released from the contract.” He’s not *unilaterally* releasing somebody else from a contract, that’s just common sense.

Valera

Her eyes are ROLLING. Of course, even now he's being difficult. "Well we shook on it. What does your magic need to terminate the agreement? Blood? Another handshake?"

Alastor

"For you to agree to the same out loud." It's not THAT complicated; but a release from a contract has to be mutual. Otherwise anyone could cancel a contract at any time, and then where would the exploitative dealmakers of the world be?

Valera

"Alright. I release you from our contract under the same terms."

... She doesn't know why she always expects something dramatic to happen, it never does. At least she can lean back and sigh, now.

Alastor

If it helps, Alastor plays a little *ta-daaa* trumpet fanfare.

Valera

It helps, but also makes her primary heart clench. She didn't lie, but she wasn't honest. And it digs into her like a splinter.

A sigh. "Are you okay, Alastor? I know you wanted _very_ badly to help the Pentious of your Hell." That came out more gently than she'd intended, but she's too tired to try and force a casual demeanor right now. Deal with her concern.

Alastor

He's silent for a moment, then sighs and sort of shrugs and shakes his head at the same time. "It just puts me back where I was a few months ago. No great loss."

Valera

"Sure, but you got your hopes up, only for them to be dashed by a contract of your own design." She isn't going to comment on that being incredibly dumb. She isn't. But she's thinking it. Even though it worked out for her.

"I suppose that means you'll have to do things the old fashioned way if you want to make amends."

Alastor

"If the contract wasn't there, I would have had to *decide* which one of them I want to hurt. At least this way the choice is out of my hands. And it means the contract did its job, didn't it?"

He rubs his eyes. "Still. Having the end in sight, and then watching it disappear..."

Valera

Most people would be happy to live another day, but a man craving oblivion? Maybe not so much. She frowns.

"At least you've got Telly. That leaves your local Pentious still suffering. And lest we forget, I entered that contract wanting to help _him_. Still do."

Alastor

And there is nothing he wants more than to go home, curl up in Telly's coils, and not come out for a week. He nods. "I know."

Valera

A low sigh. She could WANT to help, but she couldn't really *do* much. "Well. I suppose there's nothing to be done, at least not now."

Alastor

"I suppose not. Maybe another time." It's hard to even think about an alternative plan right now. How can he even consider a plan that doesn't involve completely erasing all of his mistakes in one fell swoop? What's the *point*?

Valera

"Another time? Yes, absolutely. The politician in me already has five concepts to workshop with my imaginary team. But I am tired, and nauseous, and I want to go hide against either Leal or Penny, whichever lucky man I find first."

Alastor

"Cheers to *that.*" He limply picks up his almost-empty coffee mug. "I think I'll be following your lead." Now that for the first time he HAS someone to hide against.

Valera

She waves her tea at him in what could pass as a pale imitation of a toast, slamming back the rest of her drink like a shot. "At least that's one thing we get out of *love*. Somebody willing to let us use them as *emotional support*."

Alastor

That feels like an attack. Why does that feel like an attack? "Or a warm pillow." He finishes his coffee and stands. "Well, that didn't quite go the way I wanted it to. But thank you for the introduction." He nods toward the egg. "And I suppose I'll see you at work tomorrow?" Remember that part? After all this, they've got JOBS they've gotta go to tomorrow? Harrowing.

Valera

She opens her mouth to remind him that she and Penny are both coldblooded, but then remembers that Leal is a furnace on legs, and just nods instead. "It was... Well. Parts of this visit were fun. I'll see you tomorrow, Alastor. And I'll remember to talk to my beau about your role in Eelizzy's life." Thumbs up.

Alastor

Listen, Alastor's spent the past few decades crying himself to sleep on a pillow with a faux snakeskin pillowcase. Who wants to argue with him if he says he feels warmer when he's wrapped around Telly.

His expression brightens a little bit. "I'd appreciate it."

Valera

She wheezes out a breathy laugh as she stands, smoothing her dress over her stomach. "Hey. I know this was rough, and I wish our talks didn't always end so stressfully, but I do think you'll be a fantastic uncle. With allowances for Penny and Leal, there's nobody I'd trust more to make sure my daughter was cared for if something happened to me. And I mean it."

A flick of a wrist, and a familiar portal opens in the wall, the Hotel's lobby visible through a shimmery haze. It could have gone worse, all things considered.

Alastor

"I doubt we'll need to have any other conversations on this. It's not like we have anything else to discuss on the topic." A crooked smile, but a slightly pained one. "Just let me know when the first PTA meeting is!" And out he goes.

Valera

[[ NOT LIKE SHE CAN DUMP HIM ON TELLY'S SHIP BUT SHE *WISHES*

Alastor

((He's gonna be teleporting himself STRAIGHT to Telly's ship anyway))

#((warning for suicidal ideation. ... this thread went some places ok))#autokrates #chat log

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