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ckret2 · 1 month ago

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Chapter 82 of you can really tell the writer got a new art program this week and went apeshit with it instead of doing anything productive: the Mystery Shack is in terrible peril from the government and only one thing can save them:

Teaching Bill Cipher how to flirt with humans!!

####

The Stans explained the plan to Dipper and Mabel as briefly as possible—that Bill had to save them all by flirting with the head fed—and that was about as far as they got before Mabel started squealing. They wished her good luck with Bill, wished him good luck with Mabel, and beat a hasty retreat, with Dipper tagging along after Ford on the pretense of helping figure out how to get the flash drive out of Gompers.

"This is perfect!" Mabel slammed the door closed—and Bill had the sneaking suspicion she'd trapped him on purpose—then grabbed both his hands to drag him further into the room. "I can see it now! He'll fall in love with you, and then he'll realize that living in a small logging town is so much more emotionally fulfilling than his high-pressure fast-paced big city government job, and he'll see what a special, magical place Gravity Falls is and he won't wanna do anything that could change it, and Washington will call him like, 'Your report is late! Have you forgotten your mission?' And he'll go 'I have a new mission now: my WIFE!' And—"

"Hold on!" Bill pulled his hands back. "I think you skipped the part where you married me off to a government agent."

"No I didn't! Because he says that and everyone gasps and then he gets down on his knee in front of you and pulls out a ring and—"

"In your dreams, star girl." He dropped onto Mabel's bed and crossed his legs. "Think a little less cheesy Christmas romcom, and more noir spy movie with a double-crossing femme fatale."

Mabel measured that up against her limited spy movie knowledge, and asked dubiously, "You're gonna drop him in a tank of sharks?"

"Hey, if you have one...!" Bill laughed. "But, no. The plan is just for me to keep him distracted long enough for the nerd squad to get the flash drive, wipe any sensitive data, and leave it somewhere that'll make the agents think the goat dumped it naturally."

Mabel considered that. She inhaled deeply. "Okay," she said. "But. What if it's one of those movies where the evil girl spy has a change of heart because of the good guy's charm and you do fall in love."

"Do you remember who we're talking about?" Bill asked. "Fine! If we fall in love, you can be the ring bearer, best maid, and officiant—but don't start stapling together a white dress just yet."

Mabel completely skipped past his main point. She whispered, "You'd let me make your wedding dress?"

"I'd turn down every fashion designer in Milan, Paris, New York, and London combined."

Her eyes widened. "I've gotta start drawing wedding dresses." She rummaged around the floor for an unused piece of paper and the nearest crayon and/or marker box.

"Draw me as a triangle," Bill said automatically. "So there, you're caught up on the plan!" He slowly slid off Mabel's bed toward the door. "So if you'd let me out so I can prepare..."

"Ohh no. Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford brought you to me to learn how to flirt, and I'm going to teach you how to flirt."

He groaned, but plopped back down on Mabel's bed. "I don't need to be taught how to flirt! I'm a pro! While your universe was still gearing up for a Big Bang, I was fending off marriage proposals from lovelorn generation ships and sentient oceans."

"You're not seducing ships and oceans." Mabel had already flopped onto the floor and drawn a triangle with an eye, and was trying to figure out how to put a dress on it. "You're seducing a man."

"Which is even easier! You people barely last a century, you're desperate! Humans fling themselves at me left and right!"

"Then you'll have no trouble passing my love quiz."

Bill automatically frowned. There was a part of him that still tensed up at the word "quiz" even if he did know more about romance than the entire human race combined. "What, like the one you put the guys through on your dating show?"

"Yes, but with all new questions! So you can't just copy all of Soos's answers to get a perfect score!"

"Psh! Like I need to copy anyone's answers," said Bill, who had never taken a quiz in his life without copying someone else's answers and had been planning to do just that. "All right, hit me."

"Question one! Uh..." She tapped a crayon to her chin as she thought. "What's the best gift to give on a first date? Jewelry, chocolate, a wedding ring, or flowers?"

"Ooh, we're starting with bribery, huh?" When in doubt, the right answer was usually C; but "jewelry" and "wedding ring" seemed kinda redundant. Well—cheating had never failed him before, why stop now? "None of the above! I've got a better answer than all of them!"

Mabel lowered her crayon to give him a skeptical look. "Oh yeah? What?"

"Sneak into their dreams the night before, find out their heart's desire, and surprise 'em with that," Bill said. "That's not even a romantic move. It'll let you win over a human in any context! Birthday parties, baby showers, job interviews, criminal trials, hostage negotiations..."

"What if you don't know their heart's desire?"

"Then you're not me."

She set down her crayon, laced her hands under her chin, and said, "Okay, then. If you were trying to win me over, what's my dream birthday gift?"

"Replacing your bedroom with a bouncy castle with inflatable furniture."

"Ha! No it's n..." She trailed off. "Wait. Ohmigosh."

"Told ya."

"I've been dreaming too small," Mabel whispered. She shoved aside her first drawing and started drawing her fantasy bedroom.

Bill picked up one of Mabel's dolls—a floppy tiger—and started talking to it like he was lecturing it. Forget this whole "taking a quiz" thing; he was much more comfortable in the roll of the teacher than the student. "And if it's a blind date and I can't stalk 'em beforehand, nobody's ever disappointed by a solid gold brick," he told the doll. "It's both practical and pretty, and it appeals to humans' natural greed without making them feel sleazy about accepting a wad of hundreds from their date."

"What's Agent Powers's heart's desire?"

Heck. He didn't actually know. He'd ducked in on the guy's life a handful of times, but he'd never needed to pay that close attention to him. What did boring people like? "A really nice leather wallet," Bill said.

"Okay, you're off to a strong start," Mabel said. "Question two: what's the ideal location for a first date?"

"What are my options?"

"Fooey to the options! I wanna hear your thoughts."

"Then that's easy: anywhere they can't escape from until they love you," Bill said. "Even better if you can serenade 'em."

Mabel nodded in approval. "Perfect answer, full points! Every Inkwell princess movie and vampire novel on the market agrees! Question three: best first date outfit?"

"Sexy."

"Okay—yeah," Mabel said, "But specifically, what does that look like?"

"Tallest hat you can find," Bill said.

Mabel waited. Bill didn't say anything else. Mabel said, "What about the rest of the outfit?"

"Bow tie. Outfit complete."

"That's just what you wear."

"And it's always sexy!" Bill insisted.

"Maybe in Flatworld, but this is earth! If you go out dressed in nothing but a hat and a bow tie, you'll be having your date in the back of a police car!"

"Fine," Bill huffed. "Fifty pairs of gloves—and the more of them you have hands to fill, the better! A dress made out of blank checks! Two snakes! A fur coat made out of live kittens!" Bill shook the stuffed doll emphatically with each point. "Good enough?!"

Mabel squinted thoughtfully at him. "The kitten coat has potential."

"Damn me with faint praise, why don't you."

"What about more traditional romantic outfits? Like... a red velvet suit with a leopard print shirt? Or short shorts that say 'too hot' on the butt?" Mabel asked. "Or a t-shirt with your date's face on it in a heart! That shows your date 'I'm here to focus on you!'"

"What if my date's face is ugly, did you think about that?" Bill asked, mainly to cover up the fact that he was chagrined he hadn't thought of the velvet suit himself. "Forget about fashion. Next question!"

"Okay, how would you prepare yourself for the perfect date? Aside from finding a tall hat and stalking your date's dreams."

"Hygiene's the most important thing," Bill said. "Humans are very attuned to pheromones. It's one of your base instincts."

A look of relief cross Mabel's face. "Yes! Good start. So we're talking a shower, or...?"

"Oh yeah, if you're going on a date in this country, you've gotta scrub that skin raw. There is no smell Americans hate more than the natural smell of other human beings."

Mabel nodded enthusiastically. "Right!"

"And once you've gotten rid of your real scent you've got to make sure you smell appealing. And that means making sure you smell the most! Cover up any competing suitors' scents with your own!"

Mabel made an uncertain hum. "Okaaay, sooo... what would you call an appropriate fragrance for a first date?"

He wasn't sure he liked the sound of the hum. "First date? You've got to make a strong impression, and set the mood for romance," he told the doll, so he didn't have to watch Mabel pass judgment. "So, I'm thinking... decaying salmon, deer pee, and ambergris."

Mabel was silent for an uncomfortably long time. Bill glanced at her. She immediately pulled her sweater up to hide her mouth. Voice strained with suppressed laughter, she said, "You don't think, maybe... floral scents...?"

Who did she think she was laughing at! He directed his attention back to Mabel's doll. The tiger didn't judge him. The tiger thought all his ideas were brilliant. "Is this guy looking for a garden or a girlfriend? I know ninety percent of the soaps and shampoos on the market are designed to make you smell like a fruit salad on the beach, but you humans don't know the first thing about what activates your own monkey-brained reproductive urges! Trust me: decaying salmon, deer pee, and ambergris! They reek of raw sex appeal!"

"What's ambergris?"

"It's a staple fragrance in the perfume industry! Some of the most popular scents in Hollywood have ambergris base notes!"

"Okay," Mabel said, "but what is it?"

"Okay so," Bill said, "when a sperm whale gets so constipated it kills 'em, the rest of its body rots off while the turd floats to the surface, and after it's bobbed around baking in the sun for a few decades—"

Mabel lay a hand on Bill's knee and gently said, "No."

"Hey, I'm not the one who invented ambergris, that's your species's idea!"

"Bill, I'm sorry. But you've got the best and worst romance ideas with no in between, and you don't know the difference," Mabel said. "But I promise you're in good hands! I'm the best matchmaker in Gravity Falls! I helped hook up Soos and Melody, Robbie and Tambry, Waddles and Gompers, the Hand Witch and that hunky hiker guy..."

He threw Mabel's doll down on the bed, slumped back against the wall, crossed his arms, and sulked. Then he muttered, "But I've got the best ideas?"

"Oh yeah. You're like an untrained romance prodigy! You just need a liiittle help filtering out the diamonds from the coal."

He grunted. Then he grudgingly admitted, "Getting Waddles and Gompers together is pretty impressive. They have complete opposite political opinions."

"See? I'll have you date ready in no time!"

Bill heaved a frustrated sigh. "Fine. But I'd better at least get a killer makeover out of this."

"Definitely! I'm getting an expert on the case!" She pulled out her phone to send a text. Plus, whatever you're wearing tomorrow? I'm bedazzling the crap out of it."

"Good!"

"But first," Mabel said, "Let's talk about your technique."

####

"Lesson one of Mabel's Guide to Flirting With Humans: pick-up lines! First impressions are super important!"

"Pick-up lines are easy," Bill said. "I know a million of them!"

"That's great! Then this should be easy." Mabel pointed at the picture of Creggy G in the middle of her Sev'ral Timez poster, whom she'd designated as their attractive human for Bill's flirting practice. "Try one out."

Bill sized up Creggy calculatingly, and said, "You know, your eyeballs are so beautiful."

"Yes!" Mabel cheered. "It's romantic! I love it!"

"—and they'd look even better in my mouth."

Mabel stared at Bill.

"What?" Bill asked. "Too forward? Should I save that for the second date?"

The flirting lesson quickly switched track from teaching Bill how to use a pick-up lines, to teaching Bill what pick-up lines not to use.

And from there, the conversation drifted to a list of subjects Bill wasn't allowed to discuss with the federal agent, which necessitated relocating to the living room so Mabel could set up an easel pad and record all the banned topics. Partway through, Stan drifted in and started throwing in his two cents.

The list of banned flirtation topics included: eyeballs; cannibalism; squid kings; dragonfly mating habits; mandibles; the time and method of living people's future deaths; the cold and lonely heat death of the universe ("Why?! It's a perfect excuse to suggest cuddling for warmth!"); fun get-to-know-you questions like "would you rather kill your mother or your father" or "which conspiracy theories would you most hate to be true"; which conspiracy theories were true; the agent's embarrassing middle school secrets that Bill shouldn't have known about but did; the agent's bald spot; cancer flavors; pending global disasters...

Bill flung his hands in the air. "So what does that leave to talk about?!"

"Anything else," Stan snapped.

"The Chuquicamata open pit copper mine."

"Anything normal."

Bill gave him a look akin to that of a vegetarian who'd just been asked to discuss his favorite cuts of beef. "Have you metme?"

"Try topics that get him in the right mindset for romance," Mabel said. "Like, 'what do you want your future wife's favorite color to be?' Or 'you look like dad material!'"

Bill nodded slowly. "So we're aggressively leading him on. I can work with that. I've never been a fan of subtlety."

"And call him charming," Stan said. "Guys love hearing they're charming. Oh, and tell him his jokes are funny."

"What if he doesn't tell jokes."

"All guys tell jokes when they're flirting! If he's not telling jokes, you're doing something wrong."

"It's true," Mabel said. "Watch any high school romance!" Bill gave them both a dubious look.

Stan glanced up as Ford and Dipper walked by the doorway with Gompers. "Tell 'im, Ford."

"What?"

"All men tell jokes when we're flirting! It's probably in our DNA or something."

Dipper thought about that, and nodded. "I tell jokes when I'm flirting."

Mabel shouted, "You try to tell jokes when you're flirting! Heyooo!"

"Hey."

Ford grimaced. "Usually when I'm flirting, I forget every joke I've ever heard and start asking as many questions as I can think of."

Bill said, "That's because you only flirt with things you want to add to your bestiary!"

"The point still stands."

Dipper had leaned into the room to read the banned topic list. "Why are conspiracy theories off-limits? He came to Gravity Falls in the first place because he was looking for a paranormal conspiracy."

"Dipper's right," Ford said, "he'd probably be interested in the topic."

Bill flung his hands in the air. "Thank you! That's what I was saying!"

Stan shook his head, "Too close to discussing politics. What if they believe in different conspiracies!"

"Plus, watch this," Mabel said. "Hey Bill, what do you think about Flat Earth theory."

Bill groaned. "I was drunk, those statements were taken out of context, and I can't be held responsible if some idiot with a boat misinterpreted me."

Mabel looked at Ford and Dipper.

Dipper grimaced. "Got it."

Ford nodded. "Conspiracy theories are off-limits."

"This is why you're all single," Bill said.

####

Stan said, "And if you're gonna lie about your job—"

"Which you always should," Bill cut in.

"Obviously! But make sure it's not something too easy to verify. Like, you can't claim to be the governor, what if your date actually voted and knows who the governor is?"

"That's a good point! Margaret was not impressed."

"You're telling me! My suit smelled like broccoli cheese soup for weeks!"

"You shoulda suggested she get the house salad."

"Yeah, I—" Stan cut off. "Wait. How do you know about Margaret? That was twenty years ago!"

Dipper and Ford were in the kitchen, looking for every ingredient they could find that might coax Gompers to release the flash drive the old-fashioned way and listening to the discussion in the living room. Gompers nibbled at a dish towel, oblivious to the fate awaiting him.

Mabel trotted in and patted him as she passed. "Hey, you! You're giving us major trouble, you rascal!"

He bleated at her.

Mabel pushed up to the open fridge next to Dipper, and when he stepped aside to make more room for her, she stepped into his personal space again and leaned into him with her shoulder. "Why are you in the way, bro, jeez!"

"You're in the way!" He leaned against her in turn. "What are you doing in here? Aren't you supposed to be training Bill?"

"Grunkle Stan's taking the lead right now," Mabel said. "My talent is helping people find true love! But his talent is suckering someone into liking you for a day. So I think he's better suited to the task at hand."

"Oh, yeah." Dipper chuckled wryly. "His advice will get you a first date, but not a second date."

Ford muttered, "His technique hasn't changed since high school, I see."

Dipper found the bottle of prune juice he'd been looking for, pulled it out, and stepped back. Mabel yelped when her counterweight disappeared and stumbled sideways into the fridge door.

As Dipper emptied the juice into a mixing bowl, he said, "I'm not sure about this plan. Even with both you and Stan helping. I know Bill's good at tricking people, but... he's so annoying. And not in a lovable way."

"Don't undersell him!" Mabel said. She'd retrieved a pitcher of Mabel Juice and was dumping a full bottle of sprinkles into it—hardcore romance training required high stamina. "He has the potential to be a dreamboat!"

Ford muttered, "He's a manipulative, murderous monster." He was searching through all the cans they'd moved to the kitchen counter for beans.

"Those don't have to be mutually exclusive," Mabel insisted. "Serial killers get girlfriends. Sometimes after they're arrested!"

"I'mmm not seeing a dreamboat," Dipper said. "More like a shipwreck. I mean, when you were trying to come up with a list of romantic date foods, he suggested blood licked off your date's teeth."

"And he was right!" Mabel said. "Vampires, bro-bro!"

"Okay, but I don't think he was talking about teeth that were still attached to his date's skull!"

"He didn't say they weren't attached," said Mabel, with flagging conviction that suggested she hadn't considered that and was realizing Dipper was probably right.

"And five minutes ago you and Stan told him he should pretend to be a princess, and he told you he'd be great at that because he started an Internet dating service that matches up lonely widows with overseas con artists pretending to be deposed princes."

"Well," Mabel said sheepishly.

"And then he tried to talk you two into investing in a pyramid scheme to fund his dating service."

"But we didn't invest!" Mabel said.

"Only because you looked it up on your phone and discovered he'd made it up!"

"I mean, until then, it sounded romantic!" Mabel flung her hands out in a wide shrug. (Something about the gesture looked strange to Ford.) "Finding a second chance at love with a mysterious foreign criminal with a glamorous false identity? That'd be great if it was real!"

"Mabel, it's a scam," Dipper said exasperatedly.

"And do scam artists not deserve love, too?!" Mabel pounded a fist on the table emphatically. "What about Grunkle Stan! He deserves love! A rich overseas widow would be perfect for him!"

"That's not— The point is, Bill's not romantic!" Dipper said. "This plan isn't going to work!"

Ford set half a dozen bean cans next to Dipper's mixing bowl. "He doesn't need to be romantic," he said. "He only needs to be charismatic. And for all his flaws, he's certainly that." Planets will orbit stars and black holes just the same—and not even realize the difference. "He doesn't have to actually win Agent Powers's heart. He only has to keep his attention for a few hours. By the time Bill stops dazzling Powers long enough for him to see the red flags, we'll have the flash drive." He nodded toward Gompers. "If we get it before the agents return with a warrant, we might not even need Bill to distract him."

Dipper sighed. "Then let's hope Gompers likes prunes."

"Come on! Show a little faith!" Mabel said.

Ford muttered, "The last time I put my faith in Bill..." Dipper gestured emphatically at Ford in agreement.

"Not in Bill! In me! Mark my words, Grunkle Ford—I'll get this Cinderella ready to meet his Prince Charming if I have to summon every mouse in Gravity Falls to help sew his ballgown!"

"Please don't summon the wildlife again," Dipper groaned. "The last time you did that, huge spiders kept appearing in our room for a week."

Mabel's pocket vibrated; she pulled out her phone and gasped. She chugged down the rest of her juice in three sickly sweet gulps and bolted from the room. "Biiill! Your personal style consultant texted back!"

"My who?"

She dragged him out of the living room by the wrist. "Come on!"

Ford watched them run up the stairs, then started searching through their cereal boxes for the high fiber one. Tentatively, he asked, "Mabel doesn't actually think we're trying to get Bill and the agent together, does she?" The Prince Charming comment was concerning.

"I don't know," Dipper sighed. "A few days ago she started talking about trying to get Bill a love life? Maybe she sees this as a practice round."

"Really? Why, did he say he wants to date people?" If he wanted to get out of the shack to emotionally prey on the locals one-on-one without supervision...

"I don't think she's even told him yet. It's part of her project to... reintegrate him into society? She probably thinks the power of love can rehabilitate him." Dipper sighed. "She's setting herself up for disappointment. He's been conning people into thinking he's a good guy for billions of years, right? If being loved could fix him, he'd be an angel by now."

"Instead, he's just gotten better at pretending to be an angel," Ford said ruefully. "I'm inclined to agree with you." He found the cereal he'd been looking for and set it on the table by Dipper. "But then... we let him live, didn't we? Because we all hope we're wrong. I suppose that doesn't make us that different from Mabel."

Dipper shook his head emphatically. "Not me." He dumped one of the cans of beans into the prune juice a little harder than necessary. "I let him live for two reasons: because of Mabel, and because of that prophecy. And he doesn't have to change to fulfill some prophecy to save us—when it comes, he might just be trying to save his own stupid butt, too."

"I suppose so." Right—of course, even if he'd agreed to spare Bill, Dipper still didn't have any real hope for him beyond his usefulness.

Over the past month, Ford hadn't seen anything more sympathetic out of Bill than Dipper had. He wondered at himself for even being willing to consider Bill might change. When had Ford changed enough to consider it? Or was he just more susceptible to Bill's same old tricks?

"You don't remember the whole prophecy yet, do you?" Ford asked. "What if this is what it was about? Saving our family from the government because he's the only person the lead agent finds attractive enough to distract him?"

Dipper pulled a face. "I hope not," he said. "After everything he put us through? He owes us a fight to the death with an interdimensional eldritch god."

"Now that's a sight I'd pay to see."

####

MABEL: Heyyy Paz, can I ask for a small favor. I have a friend that needs a MAJOR MAKEOVER!! 😿 Like the FULL PRINCESS TRANSFORMATION treatment!! Can you help him?

PACIFICA: Can't, I'm suuuper busy today. I have the lunch shift AND grooming day at the ranch.

PACIFICA: Plus, why would I help some total rando? 😒

MABEL: Because it's my friend with the beautiful golden hair.

PACIFICA: asldkfggh

PACIFICA: OK fine come by the ranch after work

PACIFICA: and send me a picture of his skin next to a white paper so I can grab some foundations to try out.

####

Bill took a piece of paper and a marker, wrote "Make me beautiful!" and dotted the I and the exclamation point with hearts, flopped the least sunburned part of his arm next to the paper for Mabel to take a picture, and leaned away to keep his face out of it.

As Mabel snapped a couple pictures, she said, "Okay, before we visit Pacifica, I have to warn you. She can be a liiittle bit mean when it comes to fashion. So don't get mad at her, okay? It's how she shows she cares!"

"No it's not," Bill said.

"No, it's not," Mabel conceded. "But it doesn't mean she doesn't care. That's just... how she relates to other people! By insulting their fashion, style, and body. And family. And finances."

"Don't worry, star girl. I can take it."

"But I mean, she might be really, really, super mean about your looks," Mabel said. "And you cannot curse her or threaten to turn her bones into flutes or do anything Bill-ish like that. Promise me."

"Hey, bone flutes! That sounds like a fun arts and crafts project, right?"

"Bill!"

"Re-lax, it'll be fine," Bill said. "She's just your garden-variety pageant girl with an overly-critical mom who tried to relive her glory years through her daughter! I can handle a teenage ex-beauty queen. I'm an expert on those types."

Skeptically, Mabel said, "Really?" She was slowly coming to realize that, in Bill's opinion, he was the expert on everything.

"Oh yeah. I spent years eyelid deep in the pageant scene."

"You did?" she said, surprised. "How come? Did you try to trick a beauty pageant into building your portal or something like that?"

Bill stared at Mabel.

####

Outside the flat hospital, it was a beautiful, peaceful morning. The air was clear, the unseen sun was shining brightly from some unknown dimension, and some 2D equivalent to a bird was chirping in some 2D equivalent to a tree.

And then the hospital doors crashed open with such force that passing shapes momentarily suspected that someone had set off a bomb.

"—don't give me that look, if you'd hustled your hypotenuse and had your birthday yesterday, we wouldn't be in such a rush! You're just lucky you came out so cute, or—" An exhausted, dull pinkish triangle charged out the doors with a very tiny, squishy yellow triangle in her trembling arm. She turned to shout behind her—"Hurry up! There's only two hours until the Best Baby Pageant and he is not going to miss it!"

—and was followed closely by a horrified blue triangle carrying a hat in one hand and a cane in the other. "But Scalene, the doctors still have to do those tests to check for—"

"They can test him later! If he's got some horrible birth defect, he'll still have it after he's won a trophy!" Without slowing, Scalene turned and held the baby out toward the other triangle. The squishy new shape gawked at him in mild befuddlement. "Look at this kid, Euclid! Most newborn brats look like cranky raisins, but he's less than an hour old and he's already bright-eyed and smooth-sided! He was born with the face of a pageant winner—"

Not looking where she was going, she ran into a tree. The bird flew off in a panic, Scalene lost her balance, and she nearly dropped the baby. Euclid caught him, caught her, and held her steady while she leaned dizzily against the tree. "Lene. You should be on bedrest right now. Maybe we should just, you know, take a moment to process..."

"Process what! We have our little angle. Am I supposed to sit in a hospital bed staring at the afterbirth?!"

While Euclid stared at her in shock, she snatched the child back, pushed him away, and wobbled back upright. "What kind of a lazy mother would I be if I was sleeping instead of making my child a winner! You want him to start off life on the right foot, don't you?"

Defeated, Euclid said, "All right. I'll take care of the... the paperwork. At least bring your cane."

"I don't need it. I'm fine."

"Fine?! You just..." He gestured at her, gestured at the brand-spanking-new baby, gestured at her again, then flung his hands up in defeat. "If you drop our baby, I'm divorcing you."

She sighed huffily. "You're so dramatic." But she snatched the cane out of his hand anyway and stormed away, declaring loudly enough that shapes on the other side of the street turned to stare: "If the mayor doesn't declare my Billy the greatest baby in the whole godforsaken world, I'm grabbing the biggest trophy in the room and bashing his eye in!"

####

Bill shrugged at Mabel. "Sure," he said. "Something like that."

####

Gompers stared down at the bowl set on the floor in front of him.

It contained black beans, broccoli, coffee grounds, fiber-enriched whole-grain cereal, oatmeal, and an avocado and half a sweet potato mashed together into an orange-green mush, all stewing in a prune juice soup.

Gompers looked up.

Dipper and Ford were crouched across from him, watching expectantly.

Gompers bleated balefully at them.

"Go on!" Ford nudged the bowl closer. "It's good for you."

Gompers knew a lie when he heard one. He turned his nose up at the mix.

"I don't get it," Dipper said. "He eats everything. What's wrong with this stuff?"

"I haven't a clue."

"Maybe it's the broccoli?"

Ford gave him a quizzical look. "Why broccoli?"

Dipper shrugged. "I don't like broccoli, I don't know why he would."

"Hmm." Mystified, Ford propped his chin in his hand and stared into Gompers's eyes. Gompers stared back. Gompers stared into his soul. Gompers didn't blink.

Ford was dragged from this session of nonconsensual soul-searching by the sound of footsteps and Mabel's voice drifting down the stairs: "Listen, you know I love your sense of fashion! All I'm saying is everyone loves kittens, but snakes? That's a pretty niche fashion market! You're not gonna get a lot of takers."

"No, hey, hear me out," Bill said. "I listened to your professional matchmaker advice, now you've got to listen to my professional heartbreaker advice. You'll thank me for this one day! This is my number one romance tip: if you wanna impress a date, strap cobras to your arms and call yourself 'Johnny Cobra-Arms.' It works every time. Guaranteed."

(Dipper snorted.)

"Whaaat? No way," Mabel said. "Seriously, what?"

"It's true! I workshopped this! I've experimented across parallel timelines! It works."

"Quit messing with me, Bill."

"You think I would ever mislead you? No. Picture this." As the pair turned the corner on the stairs, Bill was spreading his hands in front of himself as though gesturing to the scene he wanted Mabel to imagine. "You see a guy, maybe a year older than you, kinda cute but nothing to write home about, maybe a 6/10. Got him in your mind's eye?"

A look of intense concentration crossed Mabel's face as she engaged her Imagination. "Yeah?"

"Okay, now imagine he—" Bill reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around. "Where are my shoes." He raised his voice, "Who moved my fisshoes! I left them right— oh, there they are." He disappeared into the living room. "Imagine your 6/10 has two big snakes wrapped around his arms. And he catches your eye from across the club, comes up to you, and says..." Bill's voice dropped to a pitch that was nearly in the range of an average adult human male, "'Hey. Name's Johnny Cobra-Arms. What's yours?'"

Mabel thought about it. Her eyes slowly widened in amazement. "Oh my god, it would totally work on me."

Bill re-emerged into the entryway, fish shoes donned. "See?"

"It made him hot! What the heck, how did that happen!"

"See?! It works every time!" He shouted toward the kitchen, "Hey, we're leaving for Alpaca's! I'm taking the car!"

"No you're not," Ford said.

Bill spread his hands in a shrug. "Worth a shot!" He grabbed his umbrella and the magic friendship bracelets from the coat rack and waited for Mabel to open the door. "See, it's the best possible first impression. It shows he's got a sense of humor, he's quirky, he's a little bit dangerous, he's got a great sense of fashion, he's a world traveler, he's good with animals..." The door swung shut behind them.

The way Bill had shrugged stuck in Ford's mind.

In his true form, Bill didn't have shoulders. His arms extended out of his sides like the trunks of saplings extending from the surface of flood waters, and they glided around his perimeter in a way that defied conventional physical biology. No joints.

When he shrugged in his human body, sometimes he'd bob his shoulders up and down in a deliberate mimicry of how humans performed the gesture; and lately, as Bill got used to moving his new body, Ford had seen him sluggishly raise a shoulder when he was too exhausted to gesture more expressively. But most of the time, he shrugged like he still didn't have shoulders. He'd spread his arms, bend his elbows, usually forming a W shape but sometimes when he was particularly emphatic forming a shape like football goalposts, and if he really wanted to make his meaning clear he'd twitch his upturned palms up the way a human would twitch their shoulders.

He did it all the time. He'd done it just now. The gesture was so natural on Bill that Ford had never realized how unnaturalit was on a human—until he'd seen Mabel make the exact same gesture earlier.

She was copying Bill's body language. He wondered if she knew.

He'd have to keep an eye on that.

"Hope Agent Powers is into snakes," Dipper muttered.

Ford laughed—then wondered whether someone pulling the Johnny Cobra-Arms trick would've worked on him. If by now nothing had made him take an interest in a basic, garden-variety human being, he doubted anything could... but, admittedly, he'd at least consider hanging out with Johnny. He sounded like an intriguing character. "If that's the worst thing Bill subjects him to, he'll be getting off light."

With a twinge of guilt, Ford realized just how true that was. Ford was no stranger to having to turn down the volume on his conscience for the greater good—and there were few greater goods than protecting his family—but...

He might not know Powers, but he did know that, whether Bill succeeded in seducing him or not, the man didn't deserve what he was about to be subjected to.

####

(Now that this chapter's finally out, may there be no further delays for a good long while, ugh.

Here's your "what was changed in the wake of TBOB" update: obviously, since we got five whole pages on Bill's beliefs about romance, a lot of that got incorporated into this chapter—the first and last scenes were basically written entirely in response to TBOB.

The scene with Scalene & Euclid, obviously, got their names & descriptions from TBOB & TINAWDC (and yeah, yeah, i'm eventually gonna go back to earlier chapters and edit out Bill's mom being a line so it matches up with canon), and it's obvious what the "best baby pageant" is a reference to (so you can guess whether Bill won)—but Bill being a pageant kid due to his mom was already part of the plans long before TBOB, so I just stuck a couple canon details into the story I was already writing. We were already gonna get into Bill's childhood this chapter & next (as you'll see next week).

Beyond that, most of the chapter was already in its present form before TBOB—up to & including Bill having a list of topics he thinks are acceptable for dates that no rational human would agree with—and all TBOB added was a couple tiny details (like... "mandibles".)

The fact that the list of things that were influenced by TBOB is so much longer than usual is part of the reason this chapter's two whole weeks late lmao.

Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed, happy new year, and I'm looking forward to (finally) hearing your thoughts on the first fresh chapter of 2025!

#bill cipher #scalene cipher #euclid cipher #mabel pines #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(tbh i'm still not 100% on euclid's design. He looks too plain without the brick stripes but they aren't quite doing it for me)#(he's got a brother he's gotta be matchy with—maybe i'll toss up some concept art later—which is why i'm tilting toward green)#(but THAT shade of green? and the stripes? not convinced)#(but it's good enough for now)#(also as u can see i decided yes i do wanna give Mabel sweaters without collars to indicate she's 6% older now)#(i'll prob be editing art in earlier chapters at some point to reflect that)

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laambfuzz · 21 days ago

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—- lunch munch club. ft schlatt. ᝰ

summary: watching porn late one night when you come across an interesting video. you're taken by surprise when you see the main male star is also the man who's streams you tune into almost daily.

— tags: smut, lunch club!schlatt, munch schlatt, mentions of oral, schlatt does porn (duh), open ending.. so we can expand upon this if we're interested.

authors note: hii! the two ideas i had originally can wait, because the lovely @fanficfox posted something about lc!schlatt doing porn and it struck me with inspo. so! everyone say thank you fox, and i hope you all enjoy! ♡

it's not uncommon for you to have some time to just yourself and the stash of porn videos that pop up on your twitter feed

twitter algorithm knows what to give you these days, which is nice. it saves you the hassle of finding a good account

but perhaps twitter knows you a little too well, when you're recommended a video of a guy eating a girl out

and you're intrigued of course, because who doesn't love that? especially when the camera is on her chest, helping entice you into the experience. as if it were you

the video is already a few seconds in by the time you click on it, and you're introduced to the scene with obscene moans escaping the girl

you can see her thighs tremble around the head in between her thighs, her free hand reaching out to run her fingers through the male's hair

you can hear muffled groans from in between her thighs, and you watch as the head moves back slightly, taking a breath

"god sweetheart, you taste so fuckin' good. could stay down here all night and take my sweet time with you."

that's when a shiver runs through your body, because oh. that sounded like.. and you supposed when you looked at the figure of the male, and the hair..

no. you were being stupid. of course you were. why on earth would schlatt of all people do porn. you know what he's like, he wouldn't

but oh, he would. and when he raises his head from beneath the girl's thighs with his lips glistening with her slick, you're frozen

it's as if your mind has short-circuited, because what the fuck?? you have so many questions; why was schlatt doing porn, why was he not making it subtle, why was he fucking good at it?

you don't have time to focus on your own questions, because your eyes are drawn back to the screen. you watch as his slim, naked body crawls up the bed, getting closer to the camera, licking his lips slowly as he groans

"words can't describe how good that was. need you to taste yourself, baby."

and with that, he's leaning over the camera to lock lips with the girl

immediately you close the tab. your whole being is flushed, and you feel hot inside for many reasons

you felt like you shouldn't have seen that, like you were.. intruding. which was stupid, he put this on the internet, there's nothing private about that

you decided you'd sleep it off. or that maybe this was a bizarre dream you'd wake up from not too long from now. anything but clicking back onto it

and yet only 10 minutes later, you had re-opened the tab

the next evening, schlatt is streaming and you try to watch it like normal. as if last night didn't happen

but you couldn't

now, every time he makes a suggestive joke or comment, you're transported back to last night

when he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck mid-stream, you remember how he looked doing it in the video, before he crawled towards the camera

when he licks his lips after taking a drink, getting the remnants of whatever liquid he had consumed from them, you can only see him licking the girl's slick off himself

you felt insane, like you couldn't act normal about it

and maybe it was part of the insanity, but it felt like he knew.

maybe you were just psychoanalysing his every move now, but you could've sworn he was never like this before.. he was

you decided to test the waters with a few donations littered throughout the night

when he has ordered food in and was wolfing it down, there were scraps and sauces across his lips

"are you always this messy? i thought you liked to take your time with things."

when he's reviewing a video and he's talking a lot over a particular section

"you ever been told you talk too much, or do people usually like that?"

or, when he's playing a poorly made hide 'n' seek game with fans

"i'm not sure you're as good at hiding things as you may think."

"oops, 'things' autocorrected in."

every time schlatt hears one of your donations come through tts, he feels a shiver run down his back

he knew his little side hustle wasn't exactly locked behind security, it was just.. out there

maybe he was overthinking it, reading too much into your donations for no reason

either way, he's noting down your name on a sticky note on his desk for next stream for.. reasons.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x yn #jschlatt headcanons #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt smut

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 7 months ago

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broken trust. [part 2] l Joel Miller

Summary: you used to be very close, but he broke your heart, now your paths have crossed again

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of sex, Ellie appears

A/N: I was very happy with how you received the first part of this story. I hope you'll stay with me a little longer and see where it leads us. a few people mentioned tagging - @vickie5446 @dreamtofus 🖤 This part is rather nothing interesting, but I hope you won't waste too much time.

[PART 1]

It was strange to have you by his side again. Although the entire drive to Jackson was silent, Joel felt as if someone had put a gun barrel to his head. Dusk fell rather quickly, the warm evening air filling the car as you cracked the window open.

The patrol you met didn't cause you any trouble and you got to Jackson when the city was lit up by streetlights.

The car parked in front of a building marked as a medical clinic.

"Go home." Joel muttered as Ellie started walking with you towards the front door.

"I don't want to. I'm going with you." The girl was outraged.

"No need. Go."

Ellie snorted, but adjusted her backpack on her shoulder, muttered a quiet "Bye" in your direction and headed down the main street of Jackson.

He was hoping you would say something, but all he heard was the clinic door opening and he saw you disappear inside.

Joel never liked doctors. Every visit reminded him of uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room, nervous nurses and doctors who treated everyone with contempt. And that whole strange smell.

The place was neat and clean though, and the doctor, an older man with a slightly nervous disposition, was quite pleasant and didn't take up much of the others' time.

"Y/N!" he smiled happily seeing you in the doorway "I'm very happy to see you. Is everything okay?"

"Hi, Doc. I brought you a patient, but I don't think you'll have much work with him." You replied, smiling at the sight of the friendly face.

"Mr. Miller? What happened to you?" the doctor showed Joel to a chair and helped him take off his jacket. "It doesn't look bad. We'll manage, Mr. Miller."

The doctor carefully disinfected his wound and put in a few stitches. Joel saw out of the corner of his eye how you were walking lazily around the office looking at old anatomy posters and joking with Doc.

Thousands of questions were spinning in his head and he didn't know who he should ask them to, because he knew that he had no right to ask them to you after all this time.

"What about you, young lady?" Doc washed his hands under the tap in the corner of the room and looked at you "How did everything heal?"

"Good, I guess. The scar is healing nicely." you replied and rolled your eyes seeing as Doc gestured for you to come over "No need, really."

Joel frowned and looked up at you. Maybe he shouldn't have done this, but he felt a strange pang in his heart. You were hurt.

Although Doc was covering you, he saw you lift your shirt, showing the doctor your side.

"Mhm. It looks really good." the doctor mumbled "But you have to be careful, okay? And...What is this?"

Now Joel could see clearly, your back was clearly bruised and you hissed when Doc touched the spot.

"The ribs are intact, that's good. When did this happen?"

"Today. But it's my fault. I got distracted."

"Mhm." the man nodded "You need to rest, Y/N. I know I can't force you to do anything, but please, get a good night's sleep and eat something."

"Yes, sir." you smiled "Can I go now?"

You left the clinic and only outside, when Joel spoke to you, did you realize that he had followed you.

"Y/N." Your name still sounded the same on his lips "Do you wanna talk?"

You zipped up your jacket to protect yourself from the cold and looked at Joel. He hadn't changed that much since you last saw him. He might have been more tired, but he was still the same man you'd woken up and fallen asleep next to so many times.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about." You replied, shoving your hands into your pockets "It's good to see you. I'm glad you're alive."

"Today's thanks to you."

"Yeah, take this as a favor for old times. Listen, I'd like to take a shower and lie down, I think I'll go now."

The man nodded. You turned around and started walking away, but after a few steps you stopped and looked at him again. He didn't move even a single step.

"Joel? I'm really glad you found Tommy. And that you're both alive."

The next gloomy days passed, but your enthusiasm didn’t decrease. Joel saw your notes, you calculated everything you needed to come to an agreement with Howard and his friend. Getting out of QZ was your little obsession. You practically didn’t talk about anything else.

And Joel felt worse and worse. He had the impression that a noose was tightening around his neck, which was getting tighter with each passing day.

The first blow came after more than a week. He was in town exchanging food stamps when your fingers tightened on his arm.

"What happened?" he asked, seeing the mixture of different emotions on your face. "Are you okay?"

"Nothing is okay." you mumbled. "We're in deep shit."

Joel looked around uncertainly. The street wasn’t a good place for such conversations. He grabbed your hand and led you home. But he already knew - it had begun.

You didn't say a word the whole way, and when you entered the apartment you just threw off your bag and jacket, sat on the couch and hid your face in your hands.

"Baby?"

You let out a groan of a person who is resigned and angry at the same time. You were filled with emotions and thoughts to the very limits, you needed a moment to yourself. However, after a few minutes he heard your voice.

"He sold it. He sold it, Joel." Your hands slid off your face and Joel saw your glassy eyes "That fucking car, is gone."

A snort escaped your lips, a mixture of laughter and mockery. Joel felt himself sinking deeper and deeper inside.

"I met Howard, he said it was over. I wanted to know more, but he told me to leave it..." you continued, staring blankly at your hands "Leave it! How... How am I supposed to leave it?!"

He approached and sat on the coffee table right in front of you, taking your hands in his. Seeing you like this was just sad.

"I should kill him." You muttered angrily. "I should do it."

"You know you can't. They'll catch you and it'll be even worse."

"I don't fucking care, Joel." Your hands slipped out of his. "He took away our chance. We were supposed to get out of here…"

"I know, I know, babe."

Finally, tears escaped from under your eyelids. It was one of the saddest sights for Joel. You were always so strong, you were on his side and he trusted you like no one else. But in that moment, your faith and hope for a better tomorrow shattered into a thousand pieces.

He allowed you to despair. And it lasted for several days. Joel often saw your red eyes, rarely heard your voice, and was also sure that you barely slept at night.

He wasn't ready for something like this, but he was sure you could handle it. You were tough, you'd get over it and soon everything would be back to normal.

He breathed a sigh of relief when one night he felt your arms wrap around his waist, you snuggled into his back, saying a quiet "I'm sorry."

But Joel knew it wasn't you who should be apologizing.

Tommy finished his coffee and looked at his brother. When he showed up at his house that morning, he seemed really down. At first, Tommy thought he was talking about his failed fling with Ellie. He had heard about it and was really glad that you were the one who found him and the kid.

"So you know Y/N?" he asked.

Joel nodded.

"From Boston?"

Another nod.

"Hmm, you don't seem happy to see her. Am I wrong?"

Joel's long fingers twirled the coffee cup around, he winced slightly.

"That's not it." he finally spoke up. "We have..."

"A story. I get it." Tommy stretched in his chair. "She's been here for a long time. Maybe two winters, I think. She's really helpful. She found and brought Doc here, that helped us. She brought some equipment to the clinic. That helped Maria give birth."

"Yeah, she's good at finding things. And people."

The sound of footsteps upstairs and the babbling of a baby distracted them for a moment. Life went on as usual in this house, and while Joel was always welcome, he knew he had to take care of his own life.

"Talk to her," Tommy finally said, as if reading his brother's mind. "It couldn't have been that bad, could it?"

It was bad.

All your fears came back in the blink of an eye. When you saw Joel after so long, you felt like you were seeing a ghost. You managed to hide all the memories associated with him and the emotions that accompanied them very well somewhere in the back of your head.

Now, however, they scattered around your mind and didn't give you peace. Neither coffee nor a long shower helped. After a sleepless night, you felt like a living corpse, and your back was giving you painful symptoms.

But you couldn't stay in your apartment, you had to do something. So you went outside with the intention of taking what you managed to get during your last trip, to the clinic. Imagine your surprise when you saw a familiar figure next to your car.

"Ellie? What are you doing here?"

"Hi. I came to see you. I didn't know where you lived so I came here." The girl smiled.

"Shouldn't you be at school or something?"

"Day off."

"Yeah, sure." You shook your head smiling. "I don't want to interfere. Joel probably doesn't know where you are, right?"

Ellie shuffled her shoe before answering.

"He's not my father, I can do whatever I want." She replied rebelliously.

You pulled two boxes out of the trunk and put them on the ground. The girl looked at you as if she was expecting what she might hear.

"He may not be your father, but he's the one who cares about you and can keep you safe."

"Did he give it to you too?"

You bit your lip, wondering how to answer. But you knew that only an honest answer would satisfy Ellie.

"Yeah, he did."

"So what happened?"

"These are matters for adults." You replied, but you winked at her.

That assured her that she wasn't entering dangerous territory and you wouldn't be telling her to go back to school or Joel.

"Do you need help?" she pointed to the boxes.

"Come on. At least you'll be doing something useful."

Everything was slowly getting back to normal, and that brought Joel relief. The car and Howard issue was closed, you didn't talk about it and focused on what was around you.

You might have gone out of the QZ walls a little more often, but Joel treated it more as a compensation for you. He even liked it, even though he was constantly looking over his shoulder and keeping an eye on you.

That was all he could give you, a few stolen moments outside the gray world you lived in. And you tried to take as much of it as you could.

You worked at QZ, and in your free time, together with Joel, you would sneak outside. Then you would go back to your shared apartment, make love at night, or just lie on the couch reading some old books. Sometimes you would get carried away by fantasy, like when Joel tried to convince you that he used to be a really good dancer. So you would dance cuddled in the living room while he hummed some melody that only he knew in your ear. It was soothing. His hand gently moving over your back, his voice quiet and calm. This was the life you created for yourselves.

But the end came as suddenly as an avalanche.

"Babe, are you here?"

He threw his jacket on the armchair and looked around the apartment looking for your trace. The place was quiet, but he finally saw you coming out of the bedroom.

"It took me longer today, but I got something extra. Have you eaten anything? I managed to get some fresh bread, I know how much you love it."

You didn't answer. You stood leaning against the door frame and watched him with your arms folded across your chest. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

You knew. He could feel it.

"What did I do to you, Joel?"

Your voice was almost dead, calm and so resigned.

"Sweetie..." he began uncertainly, but he didn't know what to say.

"What did I do to you, Joel?" you repeated the question just as calmly as before. "What did I do to deserve all this?"

He walked up to you and took your face in his large, warm hands. He wanted you to snuggle into them, like always, but your body was completely unmoved.

"I met Howard's friend today. We started talking. I asked if there was a chance for a battery or a reasonably functional car." The words flowed from your lips. "He laughed. He asked... He asked me why I bothered him when my boyfriend would show up soon and give him much more to sell it to someone else. Joel..."

You said his name as if you were begging him to tell you that it wasn't true, that this was all some stupid joke. But he couldn't, you could see it in his eyes.

"How dare you, Joel? How dare you?"

Why did you have to be so calm? That was the worst part of it all. You seemed as cold and unapproachable to him as ever.

"I did it for your own good." He finally replied. "For your safety. Listen, there's nothing there. You're safe here. And you're alive."

"Who gave you the right to decide for me?" you pulled away from him in disgust.

"I care about you!"

"You care about me?!" you scoffed "First you told me beautiful stories about how we'd get out of here, and then you took it all away from me! You watched me cry, you watched how devastated I was... Fuck, you must have really enjoyed it!"

"Don't say that! You know perfectly well that I... You know that you're important to me."

You never named what was between you two. It was good, so there was no need. Besides, you knew perfectly well that Joel wasn't the type to wear his heart on his sleeve.

His feelings were described by words like "Be careful", "Don't go there alone", "I'll go first" or "I've got your back". Or in the way he touched or looked at you. But now you were looking at a man you weren't sure you knew.

"Listen. Baby..."

"Don't call me that. That's bullshit!"

Your eyes filled with tears. A chasm appeared between you that couldn't be bridged.

"I wanted this for us." You whispered with difficulty. "I wanted us to leave this place behind. I know it's dangerous there, I know it would be hard, but we would be there together. I wanted you to find Tommy. I would go with you to the end of the world if you only asked..."

"I'm so sorry. You don't even know how much I regretted it. But I couldn't let anything happen to you, you know that."

You nodded and wiped your tear-soaked cheek with your hand.

"Yeah, I know."

Joel approached you and his hand brushed your cheek. He wanted to take you in his arms so much, to feel your warmth. He knew he would never be able to atone for what he had done. But the most important thing was for you to be safe and sound, with him.

For a brief moment he thought that everything would still work out. Joel didn't know how wrong he was.

You were already one foot out the door.

[PART 3]

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader

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universalcas · 1 month ago

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Dean wakes up and it's the 24th of January. His 46 yo body aches in new parts that he knows were fine last year but it's nothing he really minds nowadays. Sometimes he can't even believe he made it that far, so if the punishment these days for defying Chuck and Death several times in the past is backpain and some aching joints, that's more than welcome. 24th of January it's like any other day for him. He hasn't celebrated his birthday in years, maybe since he was eight and just because he stole a biscuit and some candles that clearly didn't add up to the right number. A birthday celebration is something Sam always had because he damn well made sure of it. So this year, the 24th of January lands on a Friday that looks like every other Friday when you are (finally) retired from hunting and you live in a big house with your now husband that came back from the Empty and decided to stay for good after a very heart-touching reunion where everyone cried like a baby (including Sam). Said husband is now missing from the shared bed and his side is slightly cold but since he put all the cards (and his heart) on the table, a missing Cas isn't something that scares him anymore.

Sam's in the kitchen, drinking something that's doesn't look like coffee but fortunately isn't a smoothie either. The rays of morning sun that enter from the kitchen windows reflects on his face, his skin looks healthier as it does his own since all of them left the bunker, and Dean is so glad he got to live enough to see his little brother grow and become the man he is today.

"Hey! Where's everyone?" He asks, ruffling Sam's hair quickly enough to avoid retaliation.

Sam huffs and closes the book he's currently reading. Something on civil rights that probably has to do with the online degree he started to pursue a year ago but maybe it's Sam's morning lecture because that's what lawyers-to-be like to read. Dean prefers novels and fiction in general and his growing library is a testament to that.

"Cas and Eileen went grocery shopping" he says. "They took Miracle for a walk and Jack tagged along".

Jack has been spending some time in Heaven these days. There are a lot of things to be fixed and rebuilt under God's supervision but most days, when he isn't needed, he loves to stay in his room reading some comics, gardening with his Dad or going fishing with Dean (the first time he said "Dad! Look what I caught!" Dean cried so hard he couldn't stop for what felt like hours, scaring all the inhabitants of the lake and the poor boy in the process). So, yes, Jack has things to do Upstairs but he wanted to be at home when Uncle Sam and Uncle Eileen came visiting and decided to stay for the night.

He hears Baby's rumble accompanied by a happy bark soon followed by a soft crack of the main door. Both Cas and Eileen carry an excesive number of grocery bags for a single meal for today and Dean doesn't understand why since he know the pantry is more or less full but that feeling is quickly forgotten when Cas makes a beeline (bags and all) to put a kiss directly on his lips. It's quick and chaste, just a brush of lips on lips, but Earth-shattering anyways. Some form of a ritual between them, kissing the other one every time one of them come back from an errand or from just staying outside gardening or giving Baby some maintenance. The kiss means I love you, I'll always come back to you, and it hasn't lost his meaning after all these years.

Dean's voice comes as a squeak after that and he tries to mask it with a manly cough that fools exactly no one. Less alone Cas, whose big smile holds the brightness of a thousand lights.

"Do you need some help with that?"

"We are fine", Eileen says at the same time that Sam says "We should continue fixing the basement, don't you think?"

And that's a weird thing to say because the basement has been Dean's work in progress since he and Cas bought the house four years ago and the second thing Dean's hands love doing the most after touching Cas (out of the bedroom that means everywhere whenever he wants but inside most of the time there are rules) is fixing things. And Dean loves his brother's company, he really does, but he can't do jack shit in that regard so Dean works on it in his time alone. But he follows Sam anyways and lets Cas, Eileen and Jack do their thing since, after coming from the Empty, Cas discovered an interest in cooking (with varying degrees of success) and probably he wants to handle that today.

And ok, maybe being retired from active hunting (not from training new recruits, mind you) has softened Dean's instincts because he should have suspected that there was a plan behind everything because, when they go back to the house, the dining room has been decorated with birthday paraphernalia and the table is full of food and the people he loves the most are wearing a small party hat (even Miracle!) and matching smiles. He doesn't cry when a big pie is placed in front of him with two candles shaped in the form of a four and six and Jack proudly announces that all of it was made from scratch by he and Dad. He doesn't cry when Miracle comes with a box in her mouth that contains a ticket "to anywhere in the country, just you and me, Dean". He doesn't cry either when Sam and Eileen give him a gift of their own in the shape of an envelope that contains an ultrasound of who's going to be a future Bobby or Mary Ellen. And he definitely doesn't cry when he is suffocated in a big hug by his whole family and Cas whispers "I love you so much, Dean" and Jack says out loud "I love you, Dad!".

The question that has been trapped inside his chest the whole day escapes from his mouth only when he and Cas are alone in their room at night.

"Why all of this?"

Cas kisses him. Soft, languid and slowly, like the passage of time.

"I can remember you been proud of us everytime we achieve something" he says. "When Jack built a chair for his room without using his powers, the first time I changed Baby's oíl without your help, when Sam announced he wanted to study Law again, when Eileen got the job she wanted. You were so happy for all of us, Dean, but you should be celebrated too".

There are a lot of things Dean wants to say but none of them come to mind. He's also at lost for words when Cas produces a small box with a ribbon from a lingerie shop he recognises.

Cas's smirk and raised eyebrow are full of dirty promises and sexy rules he's more than happy to follow. But that's, well, that's a story for another time.

#destiel #enddverse-stuff #destiel ficlet #for dean's bday a little late i'm sorry love

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kisses4reid · 2 months ago

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scare | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, (part 4)

synopsis - you’re in a relationship with some one else and have a pregnancy scare, both your own reaction and spencer’s makes you realise that you’re not happy.

part synopsis - you return to work, and a sudden revelation changes everything.

genre - bau!reader x spencer, friends to lovers, r was with someone else, douchebag bf trope, pregnancy scare, angst & fluff, comfort, reader is female with female anatomy and feminine

warnings - pregnancy is the main theme, blood, menstrual cycle, crying, inaccuracies because i have never been pregnant/ever thought i could be pregnant, uneducated reference to abortion: 'stick something up there',

w/c - 2.1k

a/n - last part. im sorry for the long wait and the subpar writing, i lost motiviation for this series and wasnt as into the story as i was before. BUT! i kept going for you guys. thank you <3 if anyone catches my hamilton reference youre my best friend

You hadn’t shown up to work for the week, taking the precious sick leave you had been hoarding and spending it all on arguing and throwing things into cardboard boxes. Not your stuff, but Lloyd's. And Spencer had spent those days pulling at his hair, tapping his fingers on his desk, and watching the automatic glass doors of the bullpen open just to find somebody else.

To everyone else’s knowledge, you simply had a bad stomach bug, but to Spencer it was much more. His stress was just a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate if one more person asks him how you were. Because he didn’t know. Not only were you physically absent from Spencer’s life, but virtually as well. No texts, calls, online likes or tags. It made him think the of the worst possibilities.

That’s where he was now, sat at his desk, finger tapping, leg bouncing, eyes darting from glass doors to blank phone, before he grabbed his phone and started to Hotchner’s office. His steps echoed in the early morning office sepace, patting his sweaty hands down his pants. But he didn’t make it very far before he heard Garcia’s familiar squeal, and your own genuine giggle.

Six days had been the longest you went without seeing Spencer, let alone your entire group, since you got the job. But you couldn’t put such a burden on these people, especially not the one who had seen you break down in his own apartment. To you, this was something you needed to figure out slowly and alone. Alone. Thank god, you were single now.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better, just a flu?” Garcia asked, slipping one of her arms into yours and walking you to your desk.

“Stomach bug.” You smiled, patting her hand and sitting down at your desk. You looked at all of your trinkets and photos, happy to see that you never actually put a couple photo on your desk, and happy to see a photo of your team all together instead.

Spencer spun on his heel and widened his eyes, a breath escaping him in relief.

“Y/n.”

You looked up and stared at the man, the bags under his eyes deepened and the creases between his brows appearing like scars.

“Spence, hey.” You smiled as Garcia took his hurried steps as her queue to leave.

“How are you-“

“He’s gone. Sorry you cut you off.” Your hands started fidgeting, you looked askance. Spencer’s eyes betrayed him in his shock, thankfully his lips didn’t betray him in his happiness.

“Oh. That’s great.” Spencer nodded and had to shake the sudden urge to grab your hands and squeeze them. He could feel the possibilities in his fingertips by the second, but he couldn’t lose sight of the bigger issue here. “Are you gonna work a case with us? Are you feeling… better?” He asked with full care in his warm brown eyes.

“Yeah, I’m better. I mean, I’m not great yet but I’m better. Still thinking about things.”

He nodded, but before he could ask anything more, the rest of the team emerged from the elevators.

“Eden Lim, missing for 9 hours after her mother left the front door open to let in fresh air. Power outage in the neighbourhood took out all the air conditionings. Neighbours are either elderly couples or other families.” JJ handed out manila folders and picked up the remote to the Tv screen, showing a photo of a sweet little girl with her mother in a slightly professional set up. Aaron nodded and started, “Wheels up in thirty, JJ organise a meeting with their sheriff and investigators.”

On the plane, you were surprised to say the least. You found out you were pregnant by a sudden sickness, and now, you felt fine. Even though you didn’t get plane sick often, you expected at least a little nausea or maybe a headache. But honestly? You felt fine. Maybe you were a superwoman, one of the rare lucky mothers that don’t get sick often.

That’s what starts to distract you, the thought of the future. You didn’t know anything about pregnancy, let alone parenting. The last time you babysat was for Emily’s cat. Your hands started sweating and you bit the inside of your lip to attempt a suppression of nerves, but you obviously weren’t slick enough.

Hotch sends a glance your way, “You okay, Y/n?”

You smile softly, “Yeah, just the plane is kinda waking up my stomach.”

He nodded, seemingly accepting of that answer, and you gave yourself a mental fist bump.

You try to refocus on the case, but another factor is making this specific one harder.

Eden.

The top name on your baby name list since you were 16, the one you sort of planned to use without much second thought. The one who belongs to a missing child.

A young man who had just lost his son stole Eden, took her to his house, and treated her well. He was a father who had suffered loss, and took from someone else in the same way so that he wasn’t alone in his feelings.

Something about that felt slightly relatable. If Lloyd knew how you were feeling, maybe he would understand the weight on your shoulders.

You walked with Spencer to your desk, the aura around you both feeling like it was going back to normal, just with another layer on top. The secret kept between you two, a bigger one than any of the others. You flicked your small, dark green scarf over your shoulder, the difference in temperature from the case hitting you harder than usual.

Spencer slipped his satchel over his shoulder and sent you a smile. You felt a spin in your stomach because of the sight, and looked down to hide your face discreetly. You heard a small clear of the throat and then Spencer’s voice,

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Every time the victims name was mentioned, you sniffled, you rubbed your arm, or took a harder breath. Why is that?”

You widened your eyes, nearly laughing at the question. You had no idea Spencer was paying that much attention to you. Honestly, you thought he was going out of his way to avoid you to lower the chances of the team getting suspicious.

“Oh, it’s just uh. Eden has been on my baby name list since I was a teenager.”

Spencer’s shoulders tensed slightly, and his mouth opened as he nodded. His heart broke a little more. And he realised this was the first time you two were having a conversation since the night you stayed at his apartment. Not only was it making it real for you, it was making it real for him. Although, he had already vowed to himself that he would help you out with anything you needed, he doubted his mental capacity to take care of a baby made from the women he loves and a man he despises.

You both started walking to the elevator, always the last two in the office before Hotch, and you subconsciously stayed close to him. A pang hit your lower stomach that you pushed down.

“How are you doing, physically and mentally?” Spencer pushed the button with the down arrow, and looked down at you. His hair was slightly ruffled, his tie askew, but his eyes were how they always were when they looked at you, full. Full of care, of adoration, of worry, of knowing. Full of… something that could ruin both of you if he made the wrong decisions.

You took a breath and had to tear your gaze off of his, “Well, like I said, I broke up with Lloyd. He didn’t want to be a father, and when I told him I didn’t know what to do with the… baby, he said… he said… he told me to ‘stick something up there’ if I couldn’t afford another way.”

Spencer felt a rush of rage wash over him, his cheeks reddening and his hands fidgeting harder by the second. How could he?

“Basically, the opposite of how you reacted,” you laughed but it didn’t last long.

“Y/n… why haven’t you told me about him before? I didn’t even know you had been talking to guys until you were already dating one of them. If you told me about him I could’ve… I don’t know.”

“Open my eyes?” You smile sadly, and nod. “If I told you about him, and about how he acted… it was kind of like complaining about a sapling to an oak tree. Complaining about a page to a library. Complaining about a dickhead to…” You shook your head, “I felt embarrassed. And, I want you to think highly of me. But I guess after all of this, I can’t really help it anymore.”

Spencer stopped you in front of the elevator and took your hands, he looked at you with concern, and a bit of anger.

“Y/n I don’t hate you, or think any lesser of you just because you’re… pregnant, or because you were with a bad guy. I think that, while it’s true I think Lloyd is a terrible guy and I don’t see a lot of logic in staying with him, it was your own decision. I’ll always respect that.” He glanced down to his hand holding yours and let go of it.

Your eyes widened, panic shot across your face.

“Y/n?” The elevator doors opened.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” You turned and ran to the toilet, hearing Spencer’s steps behind yours a moment later. He called your name, asked you if you felt sick, and it made him feel guilty for making you stress in a time like this.

He hadn’t fully processed that you weren’t just his best friend, his love, but his pregnant best friend.

You pushed on the ladies bathroom door hard and darted for a toilet stall. There is no way I’m peeing my pants in front of Spencer Reid.

You closed the stall, and soon heard Spencer enter the bathroom with no hesitation to the fact it was a women’s room. “Do you need to hold your hair up?”

And even though the offer played with your heart, you quickly denied him, “No, Spencer, I’m not sick. I just needed to…”

You wiped, and suddenly you felt dizzy. Red.

Red?

“Blood…” you whispered to yourself. "Oh my... god."

“Blood!? Y/n, should you go to the hospital?” He stood closer to the door as his heart rate picked up.

You stood up, pulled up your pants and opened the door. Spencer nearly fell into you.

You screwed your eyebrows together in confusion, and all at once a million feelings hit you. Hatred, sadness, depression, heart break, hope, denial, acceptance… relief. You looked down, unable to look at Spencer as your heart quickened, and covered your mouth with your shaking hand.

“Spencer, I’m on my period.”

His big eyes searched yours, looking down and over your face and body and it was like watching him piece a puzzle together. “You’re not…”

You shook your head, and a wave of relief hit you all at once, tears hitting you like a tsunami, your arms wrapping around Spencer’s shoulders like unforgiving ropes. He stilled for a moment, before reciprocating the tight embrace, a breath of air leaving him in the contact. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripping at your work shirt causing wrinkles to appear between his fingers. His large palm warmed your back in soothing strokes before they laid tightly around your ribcage. Honestly, hugging you was a big thing he had been thinking about in your absense - they were always genuine.

You let go and smiled at Spencer widely, the first one you gave him genuinely in too long a time. Spencer placed a hand on your cheek and wiped a tear gently, smiling back at you.

“Oh, Spencer, I’m so… sorry.”

He stopped in his tracks and widened his eyes, “Why?”

“I made you worry for so long-“

“Hey, a false positive is not your fault. You had a less than 1 percent chance of getting one so it’s no wonder it didn’t cross your mind. My mind, as well.” His heart swelled as you two looked into each others eyes. Happy, relieved, suddenly aware of how close you two were to each other.

Spencer dropped his hand, and looked down with a cough. “I’m happy for you, Y/n.”

You nodded with a shy smile, and turned to look back at the toilet, “Well, I’m gonna… you know… take care of this and then… do you wanna get a drink? I need to... I need somewhere that's not my apartment to think about this.”

He blushed slightly, realising where he was, and picked up his satchel, “Yes, of course. Do you want to go to mine? We can pick up drinks on the way?”

"That would be amazing, thank you Spence." "Anything for you."

taglist - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner @yokaimoon @flow33didontsmoke @reidswifeyyyyyy @kitsunetori @yasmin12312 @softestqueeen @adoresami @hazza3000 @lov3-audz @issy25 @pleasantwitchgarden @upuntil6am

#criminal minds #spencer reid #cm #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid oneshot #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds hurt/comfort #🍵 —☆ pia’s pages

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jinwoosbabyboo · 3 months ago

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Nika's Open Mic Night!

𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕟 𝕔𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕓/𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕚𝕟

Calling all the LADS writers of Tumblr

Please read → Everyone and anyone is free to join. Write something for the prompt and tag someone who you'd like to see participate. You can do it in a reblog to this post or make your own post. Your character can be a self-insert, your MC, or an OC If you make your own post please add me in your taglist or tag it with #nikasopenmicnight I love reading you guys work. I'm going to be making an ongoing list with links to all the stories of everyone who chooses to join. There is no deadline have fun !

Okay I'll shut up now here's the prompt

the prompt: running into your main lads man (boyfriend) while you're out with your second favorite lads man (as a friend) and how they would react. [Credit: Anon]

I'll go first....Who's next?

This was supposed to be a quick trip, in and out, get what I need and leave. I should’ve gone to a different store because I knew better than to think I'd make a ‘quick trip’ to target. Dumbass. Nothing was ever a quick trip when me and Raf hung out. So here I am buying all new decor for my library at home. Rafayel stood by giving his opinion even when I didn't ask for it “How many blankets does one girl need?”

“There’s no such thing as too many blankets” I giggled as I squat down to chose a fluffy red blanket. I knew Sylus would like this no matter how much he likes to act like he doesn't care for them I see how he throws one over his lap when it’s within reach. “Thinking of me?” I jump at the sudden sound of his voice looking up to see his tall frame looming over me. It wasn’t uncommon for him to pop-up on me considering he has my location. I couldn’t help the smile that split my face in two as I looked up at him. I stood up and shoved the blanket in this direction. “What do you think?” His hand gently ran up and down the fabric, but his intense stare was fixated over my shoulder “It’s nice”

I turned to see Raf giving Sylus a just as intense stare, but instead of a frown like Sylus he had a smile on his face. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and I could practically feel the lightning cracking between them. Am I in the middle of some kind of pissing contest? Men. “Sylus stop being rude he's my friend” I poked him in his side which made him jolt, but he finally looked at me. His gaze softened slightly as our eyes locked. “Princess i’m not doing anything” He poked me in my forehead and I swatted his hand away; he knows I hate when he does that. “Don’t play dumb” I scowled at him and all he did was give me that sexy ass smirk. Sometimes I wish he was ugly …. no I don’t. Sylus put his gaze back on Rafayel and pulled me impossibly close to him by my waist. “Apologies if I'm interrupting, but we have an appointment with a tailor that we can’t miss”

Why is he lying? This is the first i’m hearing of said appointment. I struggled in his hold trying to pry his fingers from my waist, but he gave me a few small squeezes making me snort with laughter.

Raf didn’t even try to argue he threw his hands up in surrender “No worries I have paintings to finish” he grabbed his items that he tossed in the cart, gave my nose a pinch along with a quick “I’ll talk to you later” and sauntered off. The second Rafayel was out of sight I managed to wiggle my way out of Sylus' iron grip “What appointment are you talking about?”

“There isn’t one I just didn’t like the way he looks at you” He said in a matter-of-fact tone as if I was supposed to know that. “How exactly does he look at me?”

“The same way I look at you” I narrowed my eyes at him inquisitively; he returned the same look and I knew he was mocking me. “So you don’t trust me” It was more of a statement rather than a question.

“And here I thought your deductive reasoning skills were improving” he shifted his weight as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I trust you sweetie I don’t trust him he wants to be more than a friend” something was off although he seemed annoyed I could tell that it wasn’t me he was upset with. All of his tells were on full display by the way he avoided eye contact with and how his fingers absentmindedly tapped on his bicep. “Are you jealous?” I teased poking his chest repeatedly. He glowered at me as I tried and failed to stop the evil grin that spread across my face. “You’re enjoying this a little too much for my liking”

“You’re so cute when you're jealous” I reached up to pinch his cheek but as always he grabbed my wrist before I could even get close. “Enough” he’s so sick of my shit, but it’s not like he’s going anywhere. "Don't worry no one can steal me from you"

tagging w/ no pressure ;

@who-mentioned-rhys-larsen @irandial @ollieneedsamilkshake @phoenixiaxia @luxis-journal

@deepspacenova @world-of-hearts @comatosebunny09 @leighsartworks216 @awesomephilosophus

@ersharyzst

#love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #sylus #lnds sylus #love and deepspace sylus #sylus lads #sylus lnds #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds rafayel #l&ds rafayel #lads rafayel #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #lads #lnds #nikaaaaimagine #nikasopenmicnight #nikaaaajusttalkin

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jinnie-ret · 1 year ago

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heatstroke

stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: fluff, angst

content warnings: heat stroke, vomiting

word count: 1.9k

summary: y/n suffers from heat stroke on the day of their performance at lollapalooza

As voted by you!

It's finally here! Sorry it took me a while to post this after the poll ended, but I hope you enjoy!

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

They had made it to Paris. Y/N couldn't believe how big the crowd would be for their performance at the festival 'Lollapalooza'. The sun was shining, and all she wanted to do was fully appreciate the nice weather. Although, where there was a Changbin, there was always chaos.

"Hwang Hyunjin!" Changbin called from opposite Y/N in his deck chair.

"Why do you keep calling me? Wae? Wae. Wae?" Hyunjin loomed over Changbin in a hoodie and sunglasses, wondering why the older member wanted his attention.

"Jinnie how are you wearing a hoodie right now? The sun's out, it's boiling," Y/N raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's not that hot," he shook his head at her, probably side eyeing her from behind his shades.

Each to their own, Y/N thought.

Somehow they came onto the topic of noodles but Y/N wasn't really fussed, she had ramen all the time back home.

She was more trying to relax, and she couldn't help but fall asleep from the comforting warmth of the French sunshine.

"Y/Nnie, wake up, you look like a tomato," Jeongin shook her awake, and as she became fully aware she realised her arms and neck was feeling quite hot.

Shit, she forgot her sun cream.

"You good? Your arms are so red," Chan peered at her, concerned.

"Mmm, my neck feels hot too," Y/N sits up in the deck chair, brushing her hair back so the boys could see.

"Aish that sunburn looks bad, you should have put on some suncream," Felix lightly brushes his finger over her red arm, making her wince.

"Gosh, I'm going to look like a tomato when we perform," Y/N laughs as she looks down at her arms.

"At this rate you won't just look like a tomato, you'll look like the whole garden," Lee Know smirks, proud of his joke.

"Ha, ha, very funny Lee Know," Y/N pats his cheek in a jokingly patronising way, smiling back at him.

"You need to take better care of yourself, Y/N," Chan looked over her, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry Channie, I just wanted to enjoy the nice weather," Y/N pouted.

"You do realise you can get skin cancer if you burn too much?" Seungmin pointed out, taking a sip of water from his bottle.

"Yah, Seungmin don't say things like that I'll get paranoid," Y/N whacks his arm lightly.

"Hey I'm just saying, your skin will age faster too," Seungmin shrugged.

"I'll look like an old woman next to you guys and I'm the youngest!" Y/N laughed, Han appearing with aloe vera out of nowhere and gently rubbing it into her skin, letting out quiet apologies when she winced.

"That's why I'm helping you, don't want you to look like a 60 year old next to us whilst we still look the same," Han laughed loudly.

"Haha, that would look kinda funny though," Y/N laughed at the thought. Perhaps she'd look like grandma I.N with the rest of the group alongside her.

"You know what else would be funny?" Changbin wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"What?" Y/N asked curiously, shifting her body to stand and face him.

"To see you dancing on stage like a tomato, everyone going crazy because of how big and red you are," Changbin maniacally giggled.

The boys burst out laughing at the statement and Y/N's face.

"Huh? Big?!" Y/N gasped laughing.

"I was talking about your cheeks, they're really big and red right now," Changbin laughed, waving his hands in defense of how what he said had sounded.

"Haha, I'll introduce myself like, hi! This isn't Y/Nnie, I'm tomato today!" Y/N put on her stage voice, pretending to introduce herself to her fans.

The members all laugh at her, Jeongin walking up to her and tickling her sides.

"Hey! Are you the new mascot for ketchup?" he cheekily grinned, eyes disappearing through his smile.

"Yah! Jeongin!" Y/N guffawed from his remark.

"Ah, our tomato is blushing so much," Lee Know pats her head smirking.

"Stop, stop," Y/N waves them away.

"Haha, seriously though, come inside the tent for a bit, you should stay out of the sun," Chan guided her into their tent where they were setup before their performance.

"Yeah it's not like we're performing until a few hours anyways," Lee Know nodded, as they all sat around inside.

"Aish, I'm tired," Y/N laid her head down in Han's lap, his hand brushing through her hair out of habit.

"You were literally just napping," Hyunjin raised a brow at her.

"Yeah but..." Y/N closed her eyes feeling relaxed at the familiar feeling.

"Drink some water first," Hyunjin put a bottle of water with a straw in it to her face.

Still with her eyes shut she took a sip and then relaxed. It wasn't until a couple of hours later that she was woken up and ushered to the stylists and makeup artists to get ready.

The crowd was insane. And really, they were the only thing keeping her going as she could feel her energy depleting. She didn't notice the glances from the boys throughout the performance, occasionally spotting her swaying yet she still managed to keep her vocals stable as they performed Superbowl for the first time ever, and Item for the second time ever.

The euphoria running through her veins began to leave her once they reached backstage. With a smile she listened to Felix end their set to hype the crowd with Seven Nation Army. But she couldn't help her slumped figure as she sat down after her desperate search for a chair.

"You good, Y/Nnie?" Chan patted her shoulder, trying to get her attention.

"Hot," Y/N panted, tugging at the collar of her leather jacket that she had been fitted with for the stage performance.

"Take it off then," Changbin helped her shake it off, now feeling concerned at her heavily sweating state.

"What's going on with Y/N?" some of the other members asked as they walked over.

"Ugh, my head," she groaned, now leant forward as she gripped onto her knees for some stability.

"Have some water, silly," Seungmin encouraged her to take his own, yet her shaky hand wasn't very reassuring to the others.

"Y/Nnie, you can't even hold onto it, are you dizzy? What's the matter?" Felix poured out questions, worried about the state she was in.

"Mmm," Y/N nods, as Jeongin helps her sip from the water bottle.

"Ah that's not good," Hyunjin shakes his head, frowning.

"Here, come on, let's get you relaxed somewhere else," Changbin helps her stand, yet as her body becomes upright she stumbles, Lee Know helping to support her balance.

Y/N suddenly tears up, feeling scared about how she was feeling. It was all too overwhelming, and everything felt too hot.

"C-can't feel my arms," Y/N whimpered as tears fell down her cheeks, the boys murmuring amongst themselves worriedly.

"You can't feel your arms?" Felix asked, a scared look on his face, and that made Y/N feel worse, she didn't want the boys to be stressed out for her sake.

"I'm sorry, I..." Y/N trailed off, still panting as she was guided back to her chair, the boys deciding it was for the better for her to rest for now where she was, instead of moving her somewhere else.

"You're okay. Everything is going to be ok, sweetheart, we've got you, yeah?" Chan hushed her soothingly, Han rubbing her back in small circles.

"Should we call a medic?" Jeongin asked, eyes wide with uneasiness.

"Yes, good idea, Innie," Lee Know nodded at him, as they both went to look for some help.

"Y/N, you're ok, you're going to be ok," Hyunjin quietly comforted her, a light grip on her hand as he knelt down beside her.

Y/N groaned again from her headache getting worse.

"Where are those medics?" Changbin asked, looking around frustratedly with his hands on his hips, wondering what was taking so long.

"Don't... worry... don't waste... on me..." Y/N could barely get her words out, especially as a wave of nausea overcome her.

"Yah, it's not a waste, you're clearly not well right now Y/N," Han looked sullen, now fanning her face with a piece of paper he had found.

"S-sorry... ugh, feel... sick," she mumbled dizzily, slumped in the chair.

"You feel sick?" Hyunjin worried.

"I'm gonna... ugh," Y/N, with all her willpower, lifted herself out of the chair, yet it wasn't enough to keep her standing as she collapsed to her knees on the ground and threw up whatever was in her system. The boys were unable to catch her and yelled out as she fell.

"Y/N! Shit!" Changbin held her against him.

"Where are the medics?!" Chan yelled angrily, stress consuming him as their maknae was on the ground.

"Ah, ugh, I'm, ah I'm sorry," Y/N whimpered, tears running down her face from her own panic and the feeling of throwing up.

"You don't have to be sorry, it's ok, just take a deep breath," Han held her hair back, looking around at the boys with his eyes shining with his own tears as he feared she wouldn't be ok.

Y/N threw up again, gasping for breath.

"Is that all of it?" Hyunjin whispered from beside them, Y/N tearily nodding as she slumped back in Changbin's arms, feeling dazed.

Lee Know and Jeongin suddenly rushed over with the medics, both of them seeming angry.

"Finally! Where were they?!" Chan asked them, sighing disappointedly.

"Packing up, they were ready to go even though we only just finished performing," Lee Know gritted his teeth as the medics lifted Y/N onto a stretcher and took her through to a medical room, much cooler with air conditioning blasting through the room.

They held a wet cloth against her forehead and against her burns to try and lower her body temperature. The boys couldn't do anything but wait anxiously as they saw their youngest laying down and getting treated.

"Her temperature is dropping, that's a good sign," the medic said out loud to the boys.

Half an hour had passed and Y/N was now more aware of her surroundings, the medics clearing that she could head back to the hotel with the boys, telling them that if her condition worsens again that they need to call an ambulance immediately.

"I'm sorry," Y/N sleepily muttered as they helped her into the company cars.

"Don't apologise, we were more concerned about you," Seungmin informed her, an arm wrapped around her waist as he and Hyunjin guided her into the back of the car.

"That's why I feel bad," Y/N bit her lip.

"It's ok, you can rest now, don't worry about it ok? I know it's easier said than done but we'll make sure you're ok, and we're doing that because we care about you, yeah?" Chan said from the front seat.

"Ok, ok," she yawned, head leaning against Hyunjin's shoulder.

Once they arrived back at the hotel they didn't let her stay in her own room, as she instead was looked after by Lee Know and Jeongin in another, the two of them making sure she was relaxed and not too hot as they kept the air conditioning on. It may have felt a bit cold for them at one point but they didn't mind, they'd do anything for her. All of the boys would.

tagged: @skz-streamer @oo-li

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x reader #straykids imagines #skz fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz 9th member #skz ninth imagines #skz ninth #skz ninth member imagines #skz ninth member #stray kids ninth #stray kids ninth member #stray kids 9th member

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estrellami-1 · 5 months ago

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Anything

Trigger warning: discussions of death. Not a main character, but it does happen. Lots of angst. Lots of hurt/comfort. I’ll post it in the tags as well.

Steve has a problem.

It’s not a big problem, not really, but his brain won’t let it go and is making it a bigger deal than it really is.

Eddie won’t ride in his car alone.

With the kids, sure; he’ll practically dive into the backseat, noogie Dustin, generally make a nuisance of himself.

But if it’s just the two of them? If Steve insists on driving, Eddie will take his van. There’s no problem if Steve wants to ride with Eddie. But the other way around? Eddie riding with Steve? That doesn’t happen. And Steve has no idea why.

“Talk to him, Dingus,” is Robin’s advice. He’d flip her off, but unfortunately he thinks she’s right: this is something they’re gonna have to talk through.

So Steve pulls on his big-boy pants and marches himself to the Munsons’ trailer, knocking on the door and waiting expectantly.

He doesn’t expect Wayne, but maybe he should’ve, because that’s who answers the door. “Hi, Steve. You’re here for Eddie, I bet, he’ll be in his room.” He moves aside to let Steve in, and Steve thanks him after a second before moving down the hall to Eddie’s room.

He hears him before he sees him; or, more accurately, he hears his guitar. He’s playing the acoustic tonight, instead of his usual sweetheart, so Steve knocks instead of walking in like he’d usually do.

The guitar stops, and Steve hears it being put down, hears a heavy sigh. “Wayne, I’m not really in the- oh.” He opens the door as he speaks and blinks at Steve. After a second, he smiles. “Hey, man, c’mon in.”

Steve blinks. “Uh. Are you okay?”

Eddie purses his lips. “Define okay. I’m not currently being eaten by bats, y’know? But playing the acoustic always reminds me of my Ma.”

“Ah.” Steve shifts. “Sorry, man. Maybe I should come back later.”

Eddie shrugs. “You’re here now, aren’t you? I can’t be that terrible company.”

Steve snorts. “No, I just… I had a question, but it can wait.”

Eddie tilts his head. “You do that a lot, y’know?” He turns, sits on his bed. Motions Steve into his room.

Steve sits next to him, more comfortable here than in his own room. “Do what?”

“Put yourself last.” He shrugs. “You can ask me. If I don’t wanna answer, I won’t.”

Steve scrunches his nose. “Okay, fine. Why won’t you ride in my car?”

Eddie frowns. “I do, though? Hell, I did what, two days ago? You, me and Dustin went to that comic store in Indy.”

“Okay, let me rephrase. Why won’t you ride passenger in my car, alone? Without any of the kids? And even two days ago you were in the backseat with Dustin.” He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal, I’m just curious.”

Eddie takes a breath. “No, it’s- yeah. You should know.” He clears his throat, grabs the acoustic again. Plays a riff of some sort, fingers dancing over the frets. “I think I feel like I have to save everyone. Or at least be in a position where I can save them, if the need arises.” He swallows, takes another breath. His fingers still. They tremble over the strings. “Did I ever tell you how my ma died?”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to inhale sharply. He shakes his head. “We can stop,” he says. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Eddie smiles ruefully. “I do, though.” He shakes his head. “I was… I was six. It was three days before my seventh birthday. We were driving home from the city. Ma was drivin’, an’ she let me sit in the front seat, since it was almost my birthday. Or- that’s what she said. I think it was so we couldn’t stop her. Couldn’t save her.” He swallows. His eyes are glassy. His accent is thick, the way it gets when he’s thinking about her, or when he’s emotional. His left hand grips the neck of the guitar tightly. Steve worries for his fingers. “We weren’t goin’ that fast, even, but forty’s enough when-” he shakes his head, looks away. Coughs out something that wanted to be a sob. Steve takes the guitar, takes Eddie’s hand. Puts the guitar down. Doesn’t let go of Eddie. “She unbuckled her belt. Dad didn’t see it. I did. Didn’t say anythin’. Maybe I should’ve, I dunno.” He squeezes Steve’s hand. “Then it all happened so fast… she smiled at me, an’ opened her door, an’ next thing I knew-” he wipes at tears on his cheeks. “D’you know what happens to a human head under the wheel of a car at forty miles an hour?”

Steve gasps, grips Eddie’s hand just as tightly. Pulls Eddie in when he begins to shake. “An’ I know why, now,” he whispers. “Dad weren’t good to her. I’unno what he done t’her. I know she did what she could. But I was there. I was right there.” He sniffles, trembles with the effort of keeping his sobs in. Somehow succeeds. “So that’s why. Figure if a kid were to try… I could stop ‘em. Figure if you were to try…”

“You could stop me.” Steve holds him tight. “I won’t,” he whispers. “I swear to you, I won’t.”

“I know,” Eddie whispers back. “But I gotta be able to try.”

“Christ, Eds,” Steve whispers. “I was gonna ask if you’re okay but that’s a stupid question.”

Eddie giggles, still teary-eyed. “Just a little bit.”

Steve pulls away to look him in the eye. “I’m staying tonight, okay? Nightmares are always worse after something like this.”

“Then you should go home,” Eddie argues. “Sleep while you can.”

“Nightmares are always easier with someone else.”

“Damn you, that’s true.” They both laugh a little.

Just then, Wayne comes in with two steaming mugs. “Listen to your boy, son,” he says to Eddie, handing over one of the mugs. He gives Steve the other with a wink. “Lavender tea with a shit ton of honey. Learned it from my ma.”

“Not my boy, Wayne,” Eddie grumbles, but thanks him for the tea anyways.

Steve thanks him too, and he winks again before leaving. Eddie rolls his eyes. “I’d apologize for him, but you’d just defend him.”

“Hey, I like Wayne.”

“I know. Sometimes I think you like him more than you like me.”

Steve chuckles. “Never. You’re my favorite.” He moves so they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, drinking their tea, leaning against each other. It’s peaceful, and soon enough Eddie’s yawning and dropping his head onto Steve’s shoulder. “Imma pass out soon.”

“Then let’s get you up to brush your teeth before you do.”

Eddie groans like the toddler he secretly is. “I don’t wanna.”

“Yeah, and you don’t wanna go to the dentist to get teeth pulled, either, now do you?”

“Shuddup.”

“Wow. Real master of words here. Really feeling that Dungeon Master power.”

Eddie thumps his arm, but snickers, and really that’s what Steve was going for in the first place, so he just smiles and leads Eddie to the bathroom.

Soon enough they’re in bed, tucked in next to each other, not quite packed like sardines and it’s only because of the heat outside that Steve isn’t more upset not to have more of a reason to touch Eddie. “Night, Eds,” he murmurs, smiling when Eddie rolls over to face him and is temporarily blinded by his own hair. Steve helps move his hair, grabs at Eddie’s hand when he’s done. “Wake me up if the nightmare doesn’t, okay?”

“C’mon, Steve, I can deal with them-”

“I know you can,” Steve answers. “But I want to be up if you are. I want to help if I can. Please, Eddie?”

Eddie sighs after a second. “Damn you,” he says, “I can’t say no to you.” He’s smiling, despite his words, so Steve smiles back.

“Thank you.”

“G’night, Stevie.”

“Night, Eds.”

Steve wakes up to Eddie crying out in his sleep. Even with his eyes closed, he’s got tears streaming down his cheeks. Steve sits up, turns on the lamp, and puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Eddie?”

He rolls over, away from Steve, and continues sobbing. “Eds? Are you awake?” No answer, so Steve puts his hand back on Eddie’s shoulder and shakes a little. “Eddie, wake up!”

He’s up with an aborted yell and a flail of limbs, sitting up and staring into the darkness of his room, trembling. He sniffs and turns to face Steve, finally realizing he’s there, and Steve opens his arms for a hug.

He collapses into Steve’s arms, face mashed into the side of Steve’s neck, arms snaking around Steve’s torso to give an ineffectual tug. Steve takes the hint and inches closer until they’re practically hip-to-hip. “Y’wanna talk about it?” He asks. Eddie sniffs and shakes his head. “Y’want me to talk? To distract you?” Eddie nods. “Okay. Uh… I may have bitten myself in the butt with this one, ‘cause I’m not a great storyteller, not like you are, but did you know we actually met in middle school?”

No answer. “We did. Hawkins Middle was putting on its annual talent show. Now, back then, I was nobody. No one knew me, my name, my parents… nothing. I had one friend named Tommy, who I’d grown up with. Of course, you know him, and you know what happened between us, but he was my only friend back then. I didn’t tell anyone, but I signed up for the talent show. I didn’t even know what I wanted to do, I just knew I wanted to do something. I’ve always had a pretty decent voice, so I figured I could just sing, if I couldn’t figure out anything else to do. Knew I’d at least beat out Tammy Thompson.” He shifts so Eddie’s hair is no longer a choking hazard and pets his hand over Eddie’s head, doing his best to tame the wild curls. “So it’s the night of the talent show, right? And it feels like the whole school is there. I’m sitting backstage, peeking through the curtains, and am about to have my very first panic attack. Someone bumps into me and knocks me over. They tell me to watch where I’m going, even though I wasn’t moving. So now I’m on the ground, thinking about the crowd, and the noise is getting to be too much, and someone grabs my hand and it all… stops. Just like that. It’s silent, other than, like, a ringing sound in my ears. And this boy, the one who grabbed my hand, kneels in front of me, puts my hand on his chest-” Steve demonstrates, moving so he can grab Eddie’s hand and put it on his chest, just over his heart. “-and tells me to breathe with him. In, out. In, out. He raised his hand when we breathed in, and lowered it when we breathed out. In, out. In, out. And when my breathing’s calmed down, he tells me to name five things I can see. And you know what I said first?”

Eddie furrows his brows. “My… my hair?”

“Yup,” Steve nods. “But you’d just had it shaved off, so d’you know what I really saw first?”

“What?”

Steve giggles. “Your ears.”

Eddie groans and ducks his head, pressing his forehead into Steve’s chest. “Hated my ears.”

“I’m gonna say something that’s gonna sound mean, but is actually a compliment,” Steve warns him. “Your ears reminded me of Dumbo. I always loved that movie, the reminder that we don’t have to change who we are in order to be loved. That sometimes the things we hate most about ourselves, the things people tease us about the most, are actually the things that help us most, in the end.” He guides Eddie to lay down. “And I’m not saying your ears are what saved you. But I am saying they reminded me that everything, maybe, isn’t entirely hopeless.” He smiles, tucks Eddie’s hair behind his ear. Says, “I like your ears.”

Said ear burns red. “You’d be one of the few.”

“That’s okay.”

“What’s your thing? Your… ears?”

Steve hums. “Did you know I cried a lot as a kid? I was very emotional, very easily moved. My dad always hated it, so I learned to cover it up. But I think it’s what got me here in the end. I could’ve told Dustin I didn’t have time to help him, but I didn’t. I got roped into this whole mess, but it’s how I got to know him and the kids. It’s how I got to know Robin and you.”

Eddie smiles. “I’m glad you cried as a kid.”

Steve laughs. “Yeah. Me too.” He shifts, a little closer, a little more down the bed so their eyes are level. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing I want less.”

“D’you think you can sleep?”

Eddie takes a breath. Steve feels the exhale over his cheek. “Maybe.”

“M’kay. Lemme know if you can’t.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

“Eddie.”

He giggles. “I’m kidding. I’ll let you know. I just… won’t stop talking at you until you answer.”

Steve hums, lets his eyes slip shut. “I’ll always answer.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, so soft. It makes something warm unfurl in Steve’s chest. “I know you will.”

Steve reaches out, squeezes Eddie’s hand in answer. Lets sleep drag him down the way it’s wanted to since he lay back down.

He doesn’t think about the fact that their hands are still clasped.

He’s the first one up in the morning, and he’s a little annoyed by it because they’d shifted during the night, so Steve is no longer facing Eddie.

His annoyance lasts for all of two seconds before he realizes there’s a warm weight behind him and over his hip, and he figures out it’s because Eddie is behind him, arm over Steve’s hip, fingers curled against the little bit of skin visible from Steve’s shirt riding up during the night.

Steve smiles, sighs, and lets his eyes sink shut again.

He doesn’t sleep, just kind of drifts, so he feels it when Eddie wakes up. He feels him tense in a stretch, feels his forehead press against Steve’s spine, feels his fingers curl farther into Steve’s stomach.

He feels Eddie wake up fully and realize the position he’s in. Feels him hum, then stiffen, slowly pulling away. Steve aches about it, but doesn’t move until he’s out of bed completely, taking the time then to roll over as if he’d just woken up. “M’rn’n,” he mumbles, not exaggerating the sleep-rough in his voice at all.

“Mornin’,” Eddie yawns. “How’d you sleep?”

Steve hums, stretches, sits up. “Think I should be asking you that.”

Eddie smiles. “I slept fine. Now how about you?”

“No more nightmares?”

“Not at all. Think you chased ‘em all away.”

“Good.”

“Steve.”

“What?”

“How did you sleep?”

“Oh. Fine. Great.”

Eddie hums, but takes his word for it, offers his hand to help Steve up, which he accepts.

“Can I ask you something that I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna want to answer?”

Eddie grins crookedly. “You can ask me anything, Stevie. If I don’t wanna answer, I won’t.” He sits back on the bed, next to Steve. “What is it?”

“What was your dad like?”

Eddie blows out a breath, looks away. “Jesus, first thing in the morning, too. Uh… y’know how you said your dad is a grade-A asshole?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Last I heard, he’s in the state prison for the next… five? Ten? Years. I dunno, don’t really keep track. Was just little things at first, petty theft, then he got an ego and started stealing cars, met a guy who could clean ‘em, and he just…” he shakes his head. “Wayne says he got too big for his britches. I say he got what was coming to him. He tried to rob someone and it… didn’t go well. He got caught, the owner tried to scare him off, swung first, but it doesn’t matter who swung first when he’s dead and my dad was trespassing, right? Tried to say it was self-defense, but…”

“But he was trespassing,” Steve nods.

“Exactly. He got twenty-five for that, and it’s been… twelve years? So I guess he’s got… thirteen left. Not five or ten. Guess it feels like he��s been gone that long.” He sighs. “I went to live with Wayne before that, though… I had a friend, he was my best friend, and my dad… really didn’t like how close we were. Spit out a couple’a slurs, said something about sending me to a camp.” Steve’s breath catches. “I called Wayne that night. Poor guy drove that night, was there by… one in the morning? Picked me up and I’ve never looked back.” He shrugs, picks at his comforter. “Turns out Dad was right about me, but Wayne’s never had an issue, so.” He shrugs. His fingers belie his nerves.

“I think, if I were to ever tell my dad,” Steve says quietly, “a camp would be the least of my issues.”

Eddie’s fingers still for a second before continuing, not fidgeting quite as quickly as before. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to tell him.”

“I think I do, though.”

“How so?”

“He’s got this… way. Of just proving himself right, every time. It’s why I haven’t left yet. He always finds a way to twist it around and show me I can’t make it on my own. Not on my Family Video salary.”

Eddie hums. “Maybe not on your own,” he admits. “But with a person or two? There’s Family Videos in other cities. Ask to transfer. Robin’s been making noise about heading to Indy, right?”

“I think she just wants out of Hawkins, and Indy is the only feasible place to her.”

“Very understandable. Where would you go, Steve? If you could go anywhere?”

Steve sighs. “That’s the problem, though. I can’t leave the kids.”

Eddie chuckles. “I should’ve known. Then why not find a place in between? Maybe on the edge of town?”

“We’re still both on a Family Video salary. I don’t think even combined we could afford anything.” Steve tilts his head. “You said a person or two. Who’s the other person?”

“Ah,” Eddie says. “Well, not to come between the platonic soulmates, but I’m sure Wayne would love to have his life back.”

Steve snorts. “Robin loves you almost as much as I do, Eds, of course you’re welcome.”

Eddie ignores that, for the sake of his own sanity. “Well,” he says instead. “Maybe it’s time to take a crack at those newspapers Wayne’s been hoarding.”

“Maybe it is,” Steve says, a strange sort of smile playing across his lips. “And I can ask people. You’d be surprised at the amount of gossip I hear at work.”

“Oh, I believe it, trust me. Or are you forgetting I use to hang around Sam Goody?”

“Oh, god,” Steve laughs, “I had forgotten that, yeah.” He sighs. “D’you think we would’ve been friends back then? If we’d known each other?”

“I don’t think so.” Eddie chews at his bottom lip. “Not because of you, but because of me. I was still stuck in that high school hierarchal shit, y’know? I would’ve seen you as an asshole jock even though you weren’t anymore.”

“I think I’m still working on it.”

“I think we’re all working on being who we want to be.” He stands and offers Steve a hand up with a grin. “And y’know what helps with that?”

Steve chuckles, places his hand in Eddie’s. “What’s that?”

“Pancakes,” he says decisively. “C’mon, let’s go bully Wayne into making us some.”

“And by bully, you mean ask once.”

Eddie hums. “Same difference.”

He waltzes into the living room, arms spread wide. “Sir Wayne! Our visiting prince has requested pancakes this fine morn.”

Wayne squints at him. “I’m your king, dipshit,” he says, lip quirked up in a smile as he winks at Steve. “Make your own damn pancakes.”

“Wayne!” Eddie cries. “Betrayal! Betrayal of the highest order!”

“You’ll live,” Wayne deadpans. Steve giggles.

Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne. “Fine,” he says. “We will make our own. But there shall be no extra for you, sir!”

Following him to the kitchen, Steve says, “We’ll make extra.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Wayne returns, “but I’d ‘preciate it.”

In the kitchen, Eddie sighs with his head halfway in a cabinet. “Okay, so we don’t have mix.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says. “I can make them from scratch.”

“Or,” Eddie says, turning to Steve with a grin. “We can go out.”

“We could,” Steve allows. “But then Wayne wouldn’t get any.”

Eddie hops backwards onto the counter and leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Y’know how I said we wouldn’t have been friends if we’d met earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“It really would’ve been entirely my fault.” He sighs. “You’re just… so nice. And it would’ve been unbelievable, for me, because the Munson Doctrine dictates that all jocks are assholes and stay jockish assholes. I think what happened… had to happen, if we were gonna be friends.”

Steve worries his lip. “Then… is it bad if I say I’m glad it happened? If only for that reason?”

“Only if I’m also glad it happened, for that reason,” Eddie responds quietly. “Y’know the only other person I’ve told about my ma is Jeff?”

“I’m…” he pauses, scrunching his nose. “I wanna say I’m honored, but that sounds weird.”

Eddie chuckles. “I know what you mean, Stevie.”

Steve nods, and they stay there for a minute, looking at each other, until Steve looks away with a sigh. “Alright,” he says, pancakes?”

Eddie gusts out a sigh. “Please.”

Steve chuckles and shoves the flour towards Eddie. “Here. Two cups.”

Eddie frowns. “Only?”

“For now. We can always make more later if we need to.”

Eddie shrugs, but nods at Steve, as if deferring to his expertise. “D’you have eggs?”

“Uh.” Eddie checks the fridge, then the cabinet. “No, but we’ve got Spam?”

Steve snorts. “That works. Wanna cut up a can and fry it?”

“Works for me.”

And so they work, side by side, until breakfast is ready and they’re all three eating side by side.

After, Wayne stretches in his seat, glances at the clock, and mutters something underneath his breath as he gets up. “Thanks for breakfast, boys. Steve, you gonna be here for dinner?”

“Uh,” Steve says, glancing at Eddie. “Unless Ed kicks me out.”

“Never,” Eddie swears.

“I’ll pick up burgers on my way back,” Wayne decides. “That work for you two?”

“Definitely,” Eddie nods.

“Sure. Thank you, Wayne.”

“Son,” Wayne starts, then shakes his head.

Steve gets the message: he belongs here. His cheeks burn. “Thanks, Wayne,” he murmurs.

Wayne ruffles his hair as he passes.

“So,” Eddie asks, once it’s just the two of them. “Any plans for the day?”

Steve makes a face. “I gotta work at two, but I’m free till then.”

Eddie snorts. “Lemme guess, you’re working alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Well not today!” Eddie says brightly. “Why don’t I come with?”

Steve blinks. “Because… why would you?”

“Cause you’re my friend, Stevie. I wanna hang out with you but I can’t do that if you’re at work and I’m here.”

Steve snickers. “I guess we can talk about moving in together. Tuesdays are always the slowest day of the week.”

“Yeah! Wayne’s got the papers around here somewhere.” He trails off, looking around, then bounds over to the TV with a triumphant, “Ha!” He reaches into the crate the TV’s sitting on and pulls out a stack of newspapers. “Okay, we don’t want anything from last year… beginning of this year might be too old…” he hesitates, looking at Steve. “Maybe since Spring Break? A lot of people moved out.”

Steve hums, moves closer. “Good point. There’s bound to be something on the edge of town.” He sighs as he sits next to Eddie. “The only problem is Robin doesn’t have a car, or even her license. And if I’m working here, and she’s trying to work in Indy, how’s she gonna get there?”

“Well,” Eddie begins, “who says you have to stay at Family Video? Why not stretch your wings out? Try something else? Indy’s a big city with lots of opportunity. How about this.” He shifts so he’s facing Steve. “If you could do anything in the world, work anywhere, what would you do? Where would you work?”

Steve fidgets with his pant leg as he thinks. “A bakery,” he decides softly.

Eddie stills for a moment. “I feel like I should’ve seen that coming. You’d be a great baker, Steve. Or if you want to just sell the baked goods, you’d be great at that, too. Hawkins is small enough we don’t have need for a bakery. Not when you can get everything you need at Melvald’s. But Indy’s big. I pass by two bakeries every time I head into the city.” He puts a hand on Steve’s knee. “Stay at Family Video for now. But when we move, you can apply to those places. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. He can feel his cheeks heating up, feel the excitement coursing through his body. “You really think I could?”

“Steve.” Eddie sighs. “I think you are so much better than you see. I think you can do anything.”

“I dunno about anything.” Steve ducks his head as he blushes. “But, uh. Thank you.”

Eddie smiles. “For?”

Steve looks up at him. His breath catches, for a second, at the look in Eddie’s eyes. He looks away with a shrug even as his cheeks heat up. “Believing in me, I guess.”

“Anything,” Eddie promises again.

Steve looks at him again. Really looks, even as his cheeks heat uncomfortably warm. “…Anything?”

Without looking away, Eddie grabs his hand. Rubs his thumb over Steve’s knuckles. Whispers it again.

Steve leans in and kisses him.

Eddie kisses back.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #starambles #tw character death #cw character death #I’m imagining Eddie goes to Family Video with Steve that day and eventually puts on a vest another employee had left there #He does more work than Steve #Except for when the old ladies who hate Eddie on principle come in #Eddie finds out Steve can out-bitch them #He falls more in love #He does in fact have to excuse himself to the back after that. Yes they kiss about it later #I literally googled ‘human head getting run over at 40mph’ and I think the FBI agent in my phone is officially Worried #Oh well. He knows I’ve seen worse #Also in case you were wondering. I couldn’t find any concrete answers. But I got Enough #No beta we die like Eddie’s mom apparently????#(Too soon?)

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dailynnt · 4 days ago

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FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 29/30

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words, scenes of violence, coercion, psychological pressure.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻 From the author: Hello my beloved armies 💜 I hope you are doing well 😊 I came to you with chapter 29... Um, I would like to officially admit to you that this chapter was the hardest for me to write out of all 29 that I wrote. Maybe 30 will also be difficult to write, but I'm ready for it 🫡 I don't know why, but it's hard for me to evaluate how this part turned out, whether it's worth all the time I spent and yours too, but this is how I see it 💔 Please let me know in the comments your opinion, maybe you don't like something? 🥺 As always, I appreciate and love everyone who reads and loves this story 🫂 You guys are priceless to me 😭💞

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and LOVE you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad, @kelsyx33, @bhonbhon, @unholyforjk, @ambiee3, @mianhae-baozi , @someoneelse0109, @medstudentlifestyle, @mskookie, @kooccult, @smokinghotstargirl , @curse-of-art, @curse-of-art2 @wintaemoonjen, @jungkookswifeeeeeee, @someonegoood, @kooko007, @indigomoonchild09, @zeytiable (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 29. Saved.

Jungkook was not himself. He stood on the terrace of the top floor and nervously lit a cigarette. He inhaled the smoke and felt a little relieved. He had to go to Namjoon and his time was running out, but he needed to smoke at least one cigarette to put his broken feelings in order. He literally took puff after puff thinking about what happened and what he should do next.

Jungkook squeezed the cigarette with his fingers, finishing it all the way to the filter. His head was heavy with thoughts, and his heart was beating faster than usual. He replayed in his mind how he saw you in Namjoon's office. It threw him off balance. Angry, he later yelled at you in Jimin's office and sent you home because you had already done so much that you weren't supposed to. You did your part, even though he asked you to stay out of it, and that was the most annoying thing.

You always did everything for him. Even now, when you were pregnant, exhausted, ready to risk your life to get him out of this hell. You played spy games to get him out of the mafia world. You were threatened, but you did it anyway to find out important information and came to Namjoon to exchange it for his freedom.

He never wanted you to get involved in this shit. You were supposed to live a quiet life, not knowing what it means to trade information for survival.

Jungkook rubbed his palm over his face, exhaling the remaining smoke. He knew you wanted a different life for you. A life without blood, without blackmail, without threats. But how? How can he get out?

Once, at the beginning of all this, he wanted to escape. He fought. He tried not to get his hands dirty with what Namjoon made him do. But then he got used to it. And maybe he even started to like it. The power, the influence, the fear he saw in the eyes of others when he walked into a room... All these things made him who he was. And he was no longer sure if he wanted to leave it. So he was in no hurry to take any radical steps. And damn it, you noticed that, and that's why you're in Namjoon's office today. To beg for him.

Fuck...

Before all this, there was this bullshit about selling weapons to the Black Pearl. It's definitely Doohoon's handiwork. Jungkook knows that he did some business with Black Pearl's Sehun, so he definitely helped Doohoon pull it off.

Thanks to their actions, he was suspected of betrayed. Of offshore fraud, of a meeting that was actually trap. He flicked his lighter irritably, though he had no cigarette. He needed to get out of this somehow, to prove that he hadn't betrayed Namjoon.

Jungkook sighed heavily and turned to leave. But as soon as he stepped into the hallway, he saw Jimin. He looked worried.

"Jungkook-ah, I've been looking for you..." - He stopped a few steps away and looked closely at his friend's face. "Are you okay? Did Y/N leave already?" - Jungkook was silent. He didn't want to talk about your fight right now. But he had to say something, so he gathered all his will into a fist and said.

"I screwed up..." - Jungkook says tiredly, hinting at what you had fought about, and that he was set up and looks like a traitor to Namjoon. "And yes, she's already gone." - Jimin frowns. He realizes that something is going on. "Why were you looking for me?" - Jungkook asks because Jimin is lost in thought.

"Namjoon is calling us all together. He asked for everyone to be in the company this morning. And now we've been told that we're all supposed to come to his office. That's why I went looking for you, that we could go together." - Jimin replies. Jungkook nods his head and walks past Jimin, who immediately follows.

"I was just heading that way." - Jungkook says as Jimin aligns himself with him.

"What's wrong, Jungkook? Why is Y/N at the company today? And why were you two fighting?" - Jimin asks. Jungkook expected him to ask about it.

"Y/N came to get free me of Namjoon's hands." - Jungkook says shortly. He walks down the corridor confidently, taking a wide stride to make sure he makes it within the 20 minutes Namjoon has given him. Jimin walks beside him at the same pace to keep up. But when he hears Jungkook's words, he stops. Jungkook notices that Jimin has disappeared and turns around, finding him a few steps behind him.

"Free you? What does that mean?" - Jimin asks. Jungkook exhale heavily.

"That's what it means. She dug up information that the Black Pearl wants to take over Uranium from us. She came to Namjoon to tell him in exchange for my place in the clan." - Jungkook explains. Jimin widens his eyes, wants to ask something, but Jungkook doesn't let him. He turns around and walks away, throwing over his shoulder. "Come on, Jimin, I can't be late."

Jungkook and Jimin entered Namjoon's office in silence. The atmosphere in the room was tense. Everyone was already in place - Taehyung was sitting with his leg over leg, Yoongi was looking at some documents, and Hoseok was typing something quickly on his phone. Namjoon stood by the table, his arms crossed over his chest, and his gaze was as sharp as a knife blade.

Jungkook walked over to Hoseok and Taehyung and shook their hands, because he hadn't seen them yet. They sat down on the couch with Jimin and waited for someone to break the silence first.

"Is Jin not coming yet?" - Jimin asked to fill the silence, which for some reason seemed heavy, although Namjoon didn't say why he had called them. Everyone present, except Yoongi, who already knew the reason, realized that something serious had happened.

"He'll be later, we can start without him." - Namjoon said tensely and pushed away from the table and moved toward the chair. He sat down, put his hands on the armrests, gently squeezing the material of the chair and looked around at everyone in turn. Everyone present looked at their boss, waiting for an explanation. Only Jungkook was staring intently at the floor, clenching his intertwined fingers. "This morning, as soon as I stepped into my office, I received information that there was a rat in the clan." - Namjoon went on to say. The silence became even heavier. Everyone in the office seemed to be frozen, trying to understand what Namjoon meant.

Jungkook slowly looked up, but did not meet his boss's eyes. He could feel the tension coursing through his entire body, squeezing his lungs and making his heart beat faster. How do you prove you're not a traitor with all this evidence? His head hurt worse.

"A rat?" - Hoseok asked, leaning on the back of the couch. He tilted his head, watching Namjoon, trying to read his expression. "What do you mean?"

Namjoon gave a short hum as if he had heard a completely predictable question. His gaze rested on Yoongi for a moment, as if they had talked about this before, and then he turned back to everyone else.

"I mean, one of us has been transferring money through offshore firms, working behind my back with a man I kicked out of the clan a long time ago."

Jungkook didn't even need to ask who he was addressing. He knew. It was about him.

"Do you have any proof?" - Asked Jimin tensely. Namjoon nodded slowly, pointing to the folder in Yoongi's hands. He threw it on the table and leaned back on the couch.

"Of course there are, Jimin, otherwise I wouldn't have gathered you all here." - Namjoon said a little irritated. Jimin picked up the folder and began to look through its contents. Jungkook didn't even look at the files again, he knew what was in them. Taehyung frowned, rested his elbow on his knee, and intertwined his fingers.

"So who do you suspect?" - He asked without waiting for his turn to look at the evidence files. Jungkook looked up at Namjoon, and the latter he said his name directly into his eyes.

"Jungkook." - His name came out of Namjoon's mouth like a sentence. The room fell dead silent. All eyes were on him. Although he realized the gravity of the situation, he felt that he could handle proving his truth.

Everyone was looking at him-some with suspicion, some with doubt, some with indescribable shock. Jimin closed the folder and looked at his friend. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and his eyes were tense. Hosok took the folder and looked at the contents with Taehyung.

"I want an explanation, Jungkook." - Namjoon demanded. Jungkook sniffled and began to speak.

"I did meet this man, but I swear I don't know that he ever belonged to our clan. He called me when I was in the Suwon, I was waiting for a call about uranium. He said it was about a shipment, so I thought he was talking about uranium. And then he said he had samples and if I had time to meet him to examine them. I found this suspicious because I hadn't received any information about the samples. He started rubbing it in that if I didn't come, his boss would contact you and you would be unhappy. I went and when I arrived, it turned out to be weapons. Japanese weapons of good quality. I asked him where he got my phone, and he mumbled something at first, and then gave me a name. I think it was Takeshi Tanaka..." - Jungkook tells how everything happened that day, not noticing how tense Hoseok was. Jungkook had asked him to find out about this Japanese man, but he forgot to tell him that his people had gotten the information. Because of the whole uranium situation, it just slipped his mind. "I said I didn't know this Japanese guy, I said we didn't need the weapons and left. That was it, I never interacted with this man again. Namjun, I did not betray you. I have no reason to do so." - Jungkook finally finishes his explanation. Yoongi tilts his head and then rests his elbows on his knees, looking at Jungkook closely.

"What do you mean there's no Jungkook-ah? Everyone knows your position in the clan. You're not here of your own free will, and you could easily want to go behind Namjoon's back. Here are the facts: we get evidence of a meeting, a money transfer from our company, and it looks like you want to cooperate with the Black Pearl. And then your girlfriend comes in and tells us that the Black Pearl knows about Uranium, about which knew only seven people, and they want to intercept it. What are we supposed to believe?" - Yoongi asks. Jungkook took a deep breath, trying to control the rage boiling inside him. His fingers clenched into fists so hard that his nails dug into his skin. He turned his gaze to Yungi, who seemed to have already passed his sentence.

"Yes, I'm not here by choice, but isn't it stupid to betray your boss, who already has you in a vice grip? Why should I make my situation even worse? It's not logical." - Jungkook defended himself.

"You said that the man seemed suspicious and insisted that you examine the samples." - Jimin interjected. "Why didn't you call me, why didn't you ask me if this was the case or not?" - Jimin's voice sounded protesting. Jungkook deliberately kept silent, saying that he couldn't reach Jimin and Hoseok at the time because they were resting and simply didn't hear his calls, so he went alone to check what the samples were. Jungkook was silent, weighing whether to tell the truth.

"I called you, but you didn't pick up." - Jungkook said calmly. "I couldn't wait because that man was pressuring me, I couldn't not go because if it was really Uranium we would have gotten our asses handed to us by Namjoon." - Jimin's eyes run over his friend's face and realizes that he hadn't mentioned this moment during the story, but now he said it because he was pressured. Jimin cast a quick glance at Hoseok, and he looked as guilty as he did.

"Why didn't you tell us that you went to Suwon, by the way? Why were you there at that time? The photo said twenty minutes past nine in the evening?" - Taehyung asked, holding the photos in his hands. Jungkook shakes his head and barely holds back an exasperated exhale. He has to admit that he went to his parents' house with you to tell them that you two met, because it's his alibi. But he doesn't want you or his parents to be questioned.

"I went to my parents from Y/N. I had some time and so we decided to visit them. However, I did not know that I had to report to you about my every move. There was no need for that before." - Jungkook says, trying to sound casual but not irritated. Taehyung looked away, his lips pressed into a thin line. Namjoon sighed heavily, running his hand over his face.

"The evidence is well faked if it's not real. I asked Jin to find out everything about this evidence, so we only have to wait for him." - Namjoon said. Everyone was quiet. But not for long, because Jin walked into the clan leader's office. He looked as impeccable as ever, with a lingering smile on his face.

"You're all so miserable. Did someone die?" - He asked as he came inside.

"No one yet, but who knows if anyone will die today, it all depends on what you got." - Yoongi replies in an indifferent voice. Jin let out a short laugh as he sat down at Namdujun's table.

This was not a surprise to anyone. All seven men were very good friends and almost like family. Jin was the oldest, so he could afford to behave like this even with the leader of the Ran Noir clan. On paper, Namjoon is the boss, Yoongi is his right-hand man, and everyone else is subordinate, but in reality they were seven best friends who were very close, almost brothers. Even though Jungkook was with them for four years, he managed to become one of them. He has respect for his older Hyungs, especially Namjoon, even though he resisted him in every way possible at first.

Jin opens his laptop. Everyone looks at him intensely.

"Oh my God, Yoongi, what are you talking about? Inside you’re awakened your bloodlust?" - Jin turns his head to the window, peering out into the dusk. "Is there a full moon tonight or something?" - Yoongi rolled his eyes, and Taehyung and Hoseok laughed softly.

"Jin, that's enough, get to the point." - Namjoon ended his jokes. Jin bit his lip, still smiling, and then folded his hands over his laptop keyboard.

"So the evidence we got on Jungkook is overwhelming." - Jin said. He connected the laptop to the display that hung in Namjoon's office and brought up the images taken in Suwon. “But let's take it from the beginning. Jungkook drove there in his father's car. I checked the license plate, and it's his father's car." - Jin flipped through the photos, and everyone looked at them carefully. "Here's a picture of him getting out of the car, and in the next one they're shaking hands. Then Jungkook and this guy go into the warehouse. And in the last photo, where Jungkook appears, he gets into the car and drives away. The time on the photo is 8:34 pm. That is, their meeting lasted about 15 minutes. And there are no more photos. But I am the best hacker Korea has ever had. So I got the video. The video near the warehouse and also in the middle. By the way, I did a little digging and found out that this warehouse belongs to Doohoon’s father." - Jungkook raised his eyebrows at this, his gaze turned angry. This was the proof that Doohoon was involved. He stared at the monitor as Jin opened the video file, and didn't notice Hoseok fidgeting nervously on the couch.

"Well, here's the video. But there's a caveat, it's without sound, so it doesn't tell us much." - Jin said, pressing the play button. The video starts and Jin comments. "We see Jungkook pull up. He got out and stopped. You can see he doesn't shake hands with Hyuwon right away. Then he's obviously inviting our tongsung to come in and evaluate the goods." - Jin turns off the video and turns on the second file. "Here's a video from the warehouse itself. Jungkook is looking at the weapons in the crates..." - He zooms in on Jungkook's face. "Hey Jungkook-ah, you look confused, not like someone who knows there are weapons in the crates." - Jin turns to Jungkook and winks at him.

Jungkook looks at the older hyung in surprise, as if he knows how to prove his innocence. Jungkook purses his lips and nods in appreciation. He glances around at everyone, and they're all looking at the video carefully. Jin plays the video back as it was and stops it when Jungkook leaves the warehouse. Jin goes to the folder where the video files were and Jungkook notices another file. Another video.

"So what? We don't know what they were talking about." - Namjoon says when Jin turns off the video. He smiled and turned in his chair.

"Did I mention I'm the best hacker in Korea?" - He asks everyone. Yoongi rolls his eyes so that he looks like he's seen his own brain, and Jimin huffs.

"Yes, you did." - He answered for everyone.

"I'm the best because I'm good at getting things that seem inaccessible, and I'm good at hiding things that need to be hidden. I had to find out what they were talking about. The camera does not record sound, but there is a program developed by our native Korean IT specialists that allows you to read words from lips. Guess who has access to it?" - Jin triumphantly opens the third file and text appears next to the video. It's a video of Jungkook and Hyuwon standing in a warehouse. "I'm about to save your ass, Jungkook-ah!" - Jin says jokingly. "You can read the text they're saying on their lips." - Everyone reads the running text carefully.

"Who gave you my contact number again?" - Jungkook's line appears on the screen.

"Takeshi Tanaka, you worked with him. He mentioned you and said you'd be interested." - Everyone reads Hyuwon's response. Hoseok interrupts the silence that was caused by everyone reading.

"Is this the Japanese guy you asked me to find out about?" - He asks Jungkook suddenly. He nods slowly. Everyone else in the room looks at them.

"Yes, about him." - Jungkook says softly. Namjoon turns his gaze to Hoseok.

"Did he ask you to get the information about this Japanese guy?" - He asks tensely.

"Yeah." - Hoseok says, a little guiltily. "I had completely forgotten Jungkook-ah. He called me that evening, probably after he met with this man, and asked me to find information about Takeshi Tanaka. I was at the club at the time. And the next day, I instructed my manager to find something on this man. If Jungkook-ah asks me, I know it's important." - Hoseok says.

"So did you find out anything?" - Jungkook asks, looking at hyung.

"I did find something, but with all the chaos with Uranium, I forgot to tell you." - He admitted. "Tanaka has ties to the Black Pearl, but he's not an arms dealer or anything. He's a drug supplier. We have never dealt with him. So it's obvious that this whole meeting is a setup." - Hoseok concludes. Namjoon exhales a deep breath. He seems to be convinced.

"I told you from the beginning that our golden maknae couldn't have done it." - Jin chimes in. "That's why I checked everything carefully. The money transferred through the offshore account that Jungkook allegedly made was made on the day he was in Suwon. Therefore, he could not physically authorize the payment. This required his personal verification code, which he could only enter from a device connected to our closed network. And that was not possible in Suwon." - Jin explains.

"It's obvious that Jungkook is innocent, judging by their conversation and the fact that someone had access to his device, the code that no more than 10 people know." - Jimin summarizes. "Jungkook was set up well." - Everyone is tensely silent. Namjoon runs his hand over his face and exhales heavily.

"Yeah. Now I see that Jungkook was really set up." - He stands up and walks to the window. He puts his hands in his pockets and stares out at the Seoul night skyline. "So there is a rat after all! And he's working for the Black Pearl!" - He says angrily.

Jungkook stands up and gives a grateful look to Jin and Hoseok, who have essentially proved him innocent.

"Namjoon, I know who set me up…" - Jungkook says confidently. "It's Doohoon, I'm sure of it. I know he's been friends with Sehun for a long time, the Black Pearl's makne. They share a common interest in destroying not only me, but you as well." - Namjoon slowly turned around, his gaze even more intense. The room fell silent, everyone waiting for his reaction.

"It's that little shit again. He still can't stop?" - Namjoon asked.

"Yeah." - Jungkook said. "I think it's all his fault." - Namjoon thinks about what Jungkook said.

"But then who is the rat who told the Black Pearl?" - Taehyung asks.

"It's someone who communicates with us directly. I think it could be our managers." - Jimin suggested. Everyone paid attention to him. Yongi sat up straight and spoke.

"Why don't we use the information that Y/N brought us?" - Yoongi suggested. Jungkook abruptly turned his gaze to his other leader and glared at him.

"What do you mean?" - He asked Yoongi. He looked lazily at Jungkook, explaining his proposal.

"We'll arrange everything as shown in the screenshots that Y/N gave to that journalist, but we'll only change the mode of transportation. In a casual conversation with our managers, we'll say that we had to change the transport because Taehyung reported on inspections from the authorities at the previous location. And then we'll find out which manager could be the rat." - Yoongi finished.

"And how will we know which manager was the rat?" - Taehyung asked. "If everyone knows..."

"Let's get the best hacker in Korea to put a tracer and tap on their personal and work phones." - Namjoon said as he walked over to Jin and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Geez, Namjoon-ah, could you think of anything more boring and unbearable for me than following your managers?" - Jin asked, whimpering. Namjoon slapped him on the shoulder and grabbed his collar, forcing him to stand up.

"Get up from my desk." - Jin stood up grudgingly, grabbing his laptop. "You'll need to keep an eye on Jimin's manager, Hoseok, two of Yoongi's managers, and three of mine. Twenty-four hours a day, checking everywhere you can, I need to know who the traitor is, and when I find out, I'll skin him. They have all forgotten who they are dealing with." - Namjoon said menacingly. Everyone fell silent, and Jin stood next to Jungkook and hugged him like a little brother.

"Well, we have a plan of action." - Jimin summarized, getting up from the couch. "I wanted to suggest that we all go to Muse, we didn’t celebrated Seollal. After work at 7:30 p.m., we'll all go to the club. I think after all this, we need to relax a little bit." - He suggested.

Everyone agreed, and gradually the room began to empty. One by one, they left, discussing plans for the evening. Namjoon was sitting at the table, continuing to work, and when Jungkook took a step toward the door, he stopped him.

"Stay a minute." - Jungkook looked at Jimin, who. He stepped in front of him and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Jimin pursed his lips and sent support in the form of a nod. Jungkook closed the door and walked over to the table.

When they were alone, Namjoon ran his hand over his face, as if to wash away the fatigue.

"I..." - He fell silent, then exhaled and looked Jungkook straight in the eye. "I'm sorry." - Jungkook looked surprised, raising his eyebrows.

"For what?" - He asked, not really knowing.

"For doubting you." - Namjoon said sincerely. "I know how dedicated you are, but when the whole situation started to unfold... I really thought you might have betrayed me."

Jungkook was silent for a few seconds before responding seriously.

"I would never do that." - He assured him. Namjoon looked at him and then nodded.

"I know. I know now." - He was silent for a moment and then added. "If anything ever goes wrong, remember that you can come to me. Always." - He said suddenly. Jungkook tensed a little, but then nodded.

"Thank you." - He bowed low.

"I know you're not here of your own free will, and your girlfriend asked me to let you go in exchange for information she brought me. And it's really valuable information, and it turns out I have to keep my word. So..." - Namjoon stood up from his chair and walked over to Jungkook. Jungkook looked at his boss carefully. "I forgive you all of your debt. You no longer owe me anything. You've worked hard for me all these years, so I've decided that you're now free from our agreement." - Jungkook could not believe he was hearing these words. They had been necessary for him at one point, but why wasn't he as happy as he had imagined when the debt was paid off?

"Are you serious?" - Jungkook asked in disbelief. Namjoon smiled sadly.

"Yes, our golden maknae." - He tapped him on the shoulder. "So if you want to leave, I'll understand, but not right now. Please finish the business with Uranium and you can be free." - Namjoon pressed his lips together. He looked like he was going to cry. Jungkook wanted to laugh that a man like Namjoon wanted to cry for him. He would finally be free.

But something in the middle of him was twisting. He had wanted to leave the world of the mafia for years, and now that he was really free, he seemed... reluctant to leave. He dreamed of this moment, of freedom, of being able to just disappear and start a new life. But for some reason, now this freedom seemed empty to him, like something he does not remember, as something unknown to him. But there was you, and you were pregnant. You will definitely be against it if he stays.

Silence hung between them, but this time it was not tense.

"Namjoon..." - Jungkook looked up again at the man in front of him. He looked calm, but his eyes betrayed fatigue and... sadness?

"Yes?" - Namjoon raised his eyebrows slightly.

"Why now? Why did you decide to let me go now?" - Jungkook asked. Namjoon tilted his head slightly, as if evaluating his words, and then exhaled heavily.

"You've always been one of the best, Jungkook. I've seen you as a potential since the first time we met. And I know I kept you here longer than I should have. But after everything... I realized that I don't want you to stay here just because of your debt. If you're going to be a part of this world, it's going to be by choice." - Namjoon said honestly. "Besides, I made a promise to your girlfriend. How can I not keep my word to her, she's so brave and she really loves you to put herself through such a trial." - Jungkook smiled warmly. But he immediately remembered how he yelled at you today. His heart clenched and he felt terribly guilty. Jungkook didn't know what to say. He nodded, as if accepting Namjoon's words, but his mind was also full of questions that he couldn't find the answer to. "You can think about it." -Namjoon patted him on the shoulder. "Now go. You have a lot of work to do." - Namjoon returned to the table, and Jungkook bowed gratefully and turned and left the room. He was greeted by the warm voices of Jimin and Taehyung, who were waiting for him near Namjoon's secretary.

"Well?" - Taehyung asked when he saw Jungkook leave.

"Is everything okay?" - Jimin was also concerned, nudging him lightly with her elbow. Jungkook nodded but didn't say anything else.

Jungkook went into his office and immediately dialed your number. You were out of range. Jungkook raised his eyebrows. Jungkook stared at the phone screen as he dialed again and heard a cold, automated voice: "The caller is out of range..."

He sighed, running a hand over his face. This was suspicious. You rarely turned off your phone, especially now that you were carrying their child under your heart.

He remembered yelling at you. How his own voice cut through the air, and your eyes gradually filled with pain.

"Fuck..." - He muttered, clutching the phone in his hand. You couldn't just turn off the phone. Was you really offended? That would be fair enough... He was being an idiot.

Jungkook leaned back and closed his eyes. Memories came flooding back to him.

He had known you all his life. At first, you were just friends, inseparable since childhood. You were always there for each other, sharing secrets, laughing, quarreling. Then everything changed. You started living together because he offered to save you some money and it seemed convenient, logical, and right at the time.

This offer changed his life forever. He is happy that he offered you and happy that you agreed at the time. He remembers all the fights he had because of those stupid rules you made up. It makes him smile now, but back then it was so annoying.

There was sexual tension between you because you started to react differently to his jokes, to his touch, you were jealous of the girls he brought home back then. On the day you had a big fight and wanted to move out because he specifically did not follow the rules you created, he realized he had to act.

He realized that you seemed to like him and he was right. Soon after that you two became friends with benefits, and the sex with you was so passionate and insatiable that he was just crazy about you. And then... Then he realized that he could no longer imagine his life without you.

Jungkook was head over heels in love with you. He adored you. And the fact that you loved him back was the best thing that had ever happened to him.You had gone through so much in those six months that it seemed like you had been together forever.

Jungkook always knew you were special. Ever since we were kids, you were more than just a friend to him. But he didn't pay much attention to it - it was just something he was used to, as natural as the air he breathed.

He fell in love with you gradually, unnoticed by himself.

First, he fell in love with your laugh. You laughed loudly, openly, without holding back your emotions. He could recognize your voice among hundreds, and as soon as you laughed, his heart began to beat faster.

Then there was your stubbornness. You always had your own opinion, you were not afraid to object to him, to argue, to prove your point. Sometimes it annoyed him, but at the same time, it fascinated him. He loved that sparkle in your eyes when you were passionate about something, loved your confidence with which you challenged him.

And then came the passion.

It was always there between you - even when you were just friends. Invisible, hidden behind innocent touches, glances that lingered a little longer than they should have. He remembered the first time he touched your lips - you were so sweet on his lips, so provocative, and he fucking loved it. He remembers your first sex. How your skin trembled under his fingers, how you squeezed his shoulders as if you were afraid he would disappear.

Jungkook remembered every night he spent with you. How you whispered his name, how you curled up in his arms, how you gave him your trust and tenderness. These were the moments when he lost his head, when nothing existed but the two of you.

But it was something else that captivated him the most.

The fact that after all the passionate nights you stayed with him. He would wake up in the morning and see you next to him - with tousled hair, slightly swollen lips, still sleepy, but so dear. You would hug him in his sleep, looking for warmth, and then he would realize that you were not just his passion. You are his love.

And this love has lived in him ever since.

You had to do was look at him and he would fall back into that whirlpool. You had to say something in your quiet, trusting voice or run your fingers over his wrist and he would lose control.

You were his fire and his calm. You were his temptation and his refuge. His best friend, his love, his universe.

And every time he looked at you, he fell in love all over again.

Jungkook finally opened his eyes. He will work for a few more hours and then go home. About forty hours passed and he dialed your number again.

"The caller is out of range..." - His fingers nervously tapped the table. He looked at the screen and saw that he had already called you four times.

Something was wrong.

Jungkook tried to concentrate on his work, but nothing was working. Thoughts of you were always in his head. He tried several more times to contact you, but it was all in vain. After two hours, he couldn't take it anymore. He stood up decisively, took his car keys from the desk, and left the office.

Jungkook went to Jimin's office and he was talking to someone on the phone. He had to wait for five minutes, which seemed like an eternity.

"Jimin, I came to tell you that I'm going home. Y/N is out of the zone and I don't like it. Her phone has been off for two hours now." - Jungkook said. Jimin got up excitedly and came over to him.

"Don't worry buddy, she probably just got mad at you and turned her phone off so you wouldn't call." - Jungkook shook his head. He thinks so too, but he'll be calm if he comes home and you're still mad at him and he'll do everything he can to make up with you.

"Yeah, I'll go." - Jungkook says, about to leave, but Jimin stops him.

"Hey Jungkook, when you and Y/N make up..." - He winks at Jungkook, hinting at sex between the two of you. "Come to “Muse” and we'll celebrate it together." - Jungkook smiles.

"Okay, Hyung, we'll come. When are you going to go there?" - Jungkook asked.

"I have some things to do. So I'll be there around 8:00." - Jungkook nods and says goodbye with a final "See you at the club".

On the way home, he tries to call you again, but your phone is off. Jungkook starts to get nervous. He arrives at your apartment, goes up to the 7th floor, enters the code to the door, and immediately realizes that you are not home. He looks for you in all the rooms, hoping that you are just lying there upset with no light on, but you are not there. Not in any room. The apartment is empty.

Jungkook is afraid to imagine what could have happened. He quickly goes to the car and gets behind the wheel. He starts the engine and drives to his apartment. Maybe you wanted to be there. To hide? On the way to his apartment, Jungkook dials Jimin.

"I'm listening to Jungkook-ah." - He says cheerfully.

"Jimin, brother, can you please check Y/N's location on her phone? She's not at home."

"Yes, Jungkook-ah, don't panic, okay?" - Jimin immediately felt the tension in his voice. "I'll check the geolocation now. Maybe she just turned off her phone somewhere."

"Please do it quickly." - Jungkook gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"I'll call you in ten minutes." - Jimin said.

Jungkook drove fast and arrived at his apartment, ran out of the car, and quickly went upstairs. He entered the code, opened the door, and his heart went cold. There was no sign that you had come here.

He walked from room to room, peering into the darkness until didn’t beat the wall. His breathing was labored, his chest tightened with a bad feeling. He instantly turned around, ran out of the apartment, and rushed to his car. As soon as he got behind the wheel, the phone rang.

"Well?" - He asked impatiently, answering the call. Jimin paused and then spoke.

"Kid... I don't want to scare you, but her last location was the Panho Bridge, near the Han River. And then the signal just disappeared." - Jungkook felt his chest tighten with panic.

"Wh-what?!" - He compress the steering wheel hard, trying to control himself. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. But calm down. The phone could have just blow off, or..."

"Or it could have been thrown into the river!" - Jungkook growled, nervously running his fingers through his hair. "Oh my God, she's been kidnapped? Fuck Jimin, she's pregnant... I have to find her!"

"She's pregnant? Oh my god! Jungkook, calm down! We'll find her! Just give me a minute, I'll check the cameras outside her house." - Jimin soothed.

"Do that. And please do it as soon as possible." - Jungkook dropped the phone, started the engine, and sped toward the bridge, ignoring the red lights and other drivers' signals. He was afraid that Doohoon might be involved in your disappearance again. Jungkook gripped the steering wheel with a terrifying force. The fucking sucker! He had enough. He's going to kill him if he's found to be responsible for your kidnapping.

The touches of reality come slowly. At first, it's oppressive darkness. Then - a heaviness in the head, as if consciousness is breaking through a thick fog. Your eyes do not open yet, but the sensations... they cut through this darkness, make you feel.

Cold. A piercing, unfamiliar cold that gets under my skin. You smell dampness, and dust hangs in the air.

You open your eyes. You see a dusty room in front of you. Darkness envelops every corner, with only a faint ray of moonlight coming through the dirty window. The air is frozen, musty, as if this room has not been opened for years.

Your body aches. You try to stand up, but your muscles refuse to obey. Your head is dizzy and your mouth is dry.

What did he do? What happened?

The last thing you remember is Doohoon pinning you to the car, the pain of a needle piercing your neck, and then darkness.

You don't know how you ended up here, but you know it's bad. Very bad.

Your foggy mind tries to figure out what's going on, but it fails.

Your baby.

Your heart is beating faster. What's wrong with her? Panic rolls in like a wave. You run your hands over your stomach, as if that can make a difference. What if it hurt the baby? What if...

No. If anything happens to the baby, you swear you'll kill Doohoon with your bare hands.

You turn your head involuntarily. The phone is gone. Your bag is gone. Nothing. You are cut off from the world.

Panic builds like a snowball, but you force yourself to breathe steadily. Now you can't show fear. You can't panic. You need to understand where you are and what Doohoon is up to.

You have to hold out. You have to find a way to escape. But above all, you need to understand how far Doohoon is willing to go.

Suddenly, the silence is split by the sound of footsteps. Heavy, measured, and you freeze. Your heart beats an anxious rhythm in your chest. The door creaks as it opens. A silhouette appears in the moonlight. Tall, tense. Doohoon.

His eyes are dark, shining with something inexplicable. He stares at you for a long time, as if reveling in the fact that you is helpless here, in front of him.

"Are you awake, Candy?" - His voice is soft, but you can hear the hidden tension in it. "Finally." - He closes the door behind him, and you suddenly realize that the trap has closed. It's hard to breathe from fear and pain, but you won't give up. All that matters now is the baby. You have to get through this. You have to endure it. Save the baby. You think about Jungkook and you want to cry. Sooner or later, he will find you. He will find you.

"He won't find you." - Doohoon suddenly says, as if reading your mind. He stops in front of you. He takes a chair that was standing nearby and sits down. He has a strange smile on his lips that you want to wipe away with your fists.

"Doohoon, have you gone fucking crazy?" - You say, your voice hoarse. You're shivering from the cold, your head hurts, and the gap is still spinning.

"Are you cold?" - He ignores your question and asks his own, a damn stupid one. You raise your eyebrows, wanting to strangle this idiot with your own hands.

His indifference only adds fuel to your anger. You're shivering, but you don't know if it's from the cold or from hatred.

"Are you serious?" - Your voice breaks into a rasp. "Doohoon, you injected me with something and kidnapped me, and now you're asking me if I'm cold?" - He sighs, leaning forward a little. His gaze is full of condescension.

"Well, it doesn't mean I want you to be sick, Candy." - He says it so tenderly, as if you were really his precious treasure and not a kidnapping victim. It's disgusting. It's...

You think of your baby. You look down, and almost instinctively put your hand on his. Fear clutches your throat. He notices your movement and squints.

"What's wrong?" - His voice changes, becoming more alert. "Worried about the baby?"

You force yourself to meet his gaze, trying not to show fear. You look at him with hostility.

"What did you inject me with?" - You ask. He does not answer. He just looks at you. Your patience is running out. When he doesn't answer and you feel like you've been waiting forever for him to answer, you can't contain your anger any longer. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME! ANSWER ME, YOU SICK BASTARD!" - You scream.

Everything happens quickly. He flies up to you and grabs you by the hair with one hand and the cheeks with the other. You automatically grab his hands. His fingernails dig into your soft skin, and his other hand clutches your hair painfully. He brings his face dangerously close to yours for a short distance. His face is still beautiful and flawless, but you see only the monster again, not the beautiful man.

"Who gave you permission to raise your voice to me?" - Doohoon says, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. His breath is hot and unpleasant on your skin. His eyes are dark, almost crazy. He squeezes your face harder, making you feel weak, defenseless. "You know I don't like it when you act so rough, Candy." - His voice is almost caressing, but it sounds threatening.

You gasp for air, trying not to let your fear show. His fingers dig painfully into your jaw, but you don't look away. Your heart is beating in a frantic rhythm, but you force yourself to hold on.

"Just tell me…" - You say, holding back tears. He looks at you, letting go of your cheeks. Then he touches your face gently, almost weightlessly, with his fingers. You resist, but he holds you back by pulling your hair, reminding you that you are in his hands.

"You're so beautiful, Candy. Have I ever told you that?" - He asks, his gaze locked on your eyes. You look at him angrily, no you look at him with eyes full of hate.

"I don't need your compliments." - You say, your voice trembling with hatred. Doohoon laughs. He looks at you for a second longer before suddenly letting go. You can feel the pain where his nails dug into your skin. But you don't lower your head.

"You talk too much." - He sighs, as if tired of your disobedience. Then he tilts his head to the side and changes his tone. "Sleeping pills. That's all." - You don't believe him.

"You mean it won't harm the baby?" - He presses his lips together as if thinking, before answering calmly.

"Why would I lie?" - He asks, putting his hands in his pockets. You look at his figure towering over you. Your hands clench into fists.

"Because you're an asshole." - You say through gritted teeth. He laughs. The sound makes you feel even worse.

"You're so outspoken, Candy. That's one of the things I hate about you." - He admits.

"Why am I here?" - You abruptly change the subject because you can't take the tension anymore. He doesn't answer. He hurls at you an irritating view. Doohoon decides that you have nothing more to talk about and walks away without answering you. "Hey, are you deaf? Where are you going?" - You try to get out of bed and chase him, but he's out the door. When you get to the door, it is already locked. You beat on the door with your hands, screaming, calling out to him, but to no avail. You slide down by the door, sitting on the cold floor and crying.

You sit on the cold floor, clutching your knees with your hands, and tears roll down your cheeks one by one. They are hot, stinging, but you do not wipe them away.

You are desperate. You don't even try to hide it - who needs it? You sob, biting your lip to calm yourself down a little. Everything is so bad that you don't even know how to cope with it. Why you? Why do you have to go through this?

His face pops into my head. Jungkook.

His deep dark eyes that always looked at you with such passion and care. His strong arms that hugged you as if they could protect you from the whole world. His voice full of tenderness when he called you by your favorite nickname...

"Jungkook..." - You whisper it barely audibly, as if this word could make him come here. But the silence in the room only proves once again that he is not here. That he doesn't even know where you are.

Pain rips through your chest. You clench your hands, your nails digging into your skin, trying not to cry even harder. But you can't stop yourself. And then your hand, almost instinctively, falls back on your stomach.

You inhale sharply. A baby. Your baby. You're not alone. You close your eyes slowly, forcing yourself to breathe more evenly.

For her... or him. For your baby's sake, you can't let yourself fall apart now.

A chill courses through your body, forcing you to finally lift your head. You take another breath, swallowing back tears, and finally force yourself to stand up. One step at a time. With your palms resting on the floor until you feel your body finally lift. You go back to the bed and slowly sit on the edge.

You're shaking, but you try to focus on your breathing. Take a deep breath. Exhale. Don't be nervous. Don't think about the worst.

You throw your head back, looking at the ceiling. But instead of a white canvas, you see him again. You remember his warm embrace. His chest, which you pressed against and felt so warm. His hands that touched you so gently.

You bite your lip, trying to push it out of your mind. But your heart feels like it's going crazy with pain.

"Jungkook..." - His name escapes your lips again, like a mantra. You want to be in his arms. You want to feel his warmth. You want him to be with you now... But he's not here. Only you are. And the darkness, which seems to be getting denser by the minute.

You climbed onto the bed, wrapping yourself in your coat. It was dirty, covered in dust. You sat staring at one point and didn't know what to do. You didn't know how much time has passed. An hour, two hours... you completely lost track of it. Your head hurt from crying and stress. Suddenly you heard footsteps again. Doohoon was coming toward you.

You tensed up against your will. How you wanted him to disappear to forever.

He enters the room and you notice that the light is on in the corridor. A strip of light makes its way into the room where you are sitting. Doohoon finds you sitting on the bed and flips the switch.

A bright light fills the room, and you put your hands over your crying face, you can't see the light because you're used to the darkness.

Doohoon goes inside and closes the door. The smell of ramen reaches your nose. You take your hands away from your face and see him putting a box of ramen and a corndog on a chair. He pulls the chair with the food closer to you.

You looked at the steam coming off the ramen, the smell of the seasonings should have awakened your appetite, but you didn't. You looked up at Doohoon, who took another chair and sat down next to you.

"You need to eat." - He said coldly. There was no trace of the softness in his voice that he usually showed you.

"I'm not hungry." - You said, looking away. You turned your face the other way so you wouldn't have to look at Doohoon, who you hated.

He presses his lips together, your words irritating him, but he doesn't say anything. He just pushes the food even closer, as if that will make you change your mind.

"Eat." - His voice is sharp, without any warmth.

"I said I don't want any." - You stubbornly turn away even more. Doohoon exhales, as if he's trying not to get angry.

"It's not up for discussion." - His voice becomes lower, more threatening. "You need to eat. You can't get weak."

"I don't care what you think." - You say colorlessly. You hear him smile.

"What? You decided to torture yourself? You've want to starve yourself until Junguk comes for you?" - Doohoon asks. You turn your head sharply toward him.

"It won't take him long to come get you!" - You say in exasperation. His eyes flash with curiosity. Doohoon gets up and walks over to the bed. He sits down in front of your legs tucked under your arms. You keep your eyes on him, as if preparing to defend yourself.

"You do realize he's not coming, Candy." - His voice is almost gentle, but there is only coldness in his eyes. You hate it when he calls you that. You hate the fake calmness in his voice. You hate the arrogant expression on his face as he looks at you now.

"He's coming." - You clench your teeth stubbornly. Doohoon laughs softly.

"He doesn’t care about you." - His next words make you freeze. "Jungkook won’t be getting out of that hole I drove him into anytime soon." - You blink. What? What has he done again?

"What did you…?" - You say quietly. He smiles contentedly.

"I made sure he wasn’t a problem anymore." - Doohoon replies. Your stomach clenches in horror.

"What are you talking about?!" - Your voice trembles. Did he hurt Jungkook again? He’s been everywhere. What kind of person is he?

Doohoon catches your gaze relaxed, enjoying your reaction.

"I set him up so that it would cost him his life." - He says.

"No…" - You whisper.

"Yes. And I tried to make it look very… convincing. It was easy to make him a traitor." - He says it lightly, as if it’s not a human life.

"Do you know Namjoon personally? If not, I can safely say that everyone who betrayed him is long since resting at the bottom of the Han River." - He says with a wide smile. He sits down closer and you tense up even more.

"No..." - You repeat again, not believing his words. And now you realize that this is the case Namjoon was talking about. The arms trade connected to the Black Pearl is the work of Doohoon.

"So I don't think you should go hungry. You should eat and think for yourself." - You were silent. You are breathing heavily, and you are filled with anger. For the fact that Doohoon can't accept Jungkook's existence. For not realizing that you hate him and that you will never reciprocate. For not being able to stop himself in time and making it all go crazy. Doohoon reaches for the box of ramen and hands it to you. You look at the food and then push it with your hand. All the ramen flies to the floor.

Doohoon sees what you did and his patience is over. He stands up and grabs you sharply. Doohoon squeezes your wrist so hard that you scream. His face is distorted with rage, his eyes dark as a bottomless pit.

"You're unbearable, you know that?" - His voice is husky, threatening. He pulls you sharply toward him, forcing you to rest your arms against his chest to keep your distance. You hit him, try to break free, but his grip only tightens.

"Let go of me!" - You scream, wriggling, but he doesn't even blink.

"Stop playing around. You're mine, and it's time to accept it." - He says. He leans closer, his breath burning hot on your skin. His fingers grip your jaw roughly, forcing you to look into his eyes. His other hand goes around your waist, trying to hold you close. Panic flares up in you even more.

You try to pull away, but in vain. In a moment, you find yourself on the bed, pinned down by his body. You look at him with eyes full of horror. If he does this to you, you just won't survive it.

He tries to kiss you, but you turn your head away, and then you feel his lips on your neck. The adrenaline in your blood is going through the roof. You start to resist even more, screaming. His breathing is hot and ragged, and his grip is iron. You pull with all your might, but he doesn't even move.

"Don't touch me! Stop it!" - You scream, your voice trembling with panic. - "Doohoon, don't you dare!"

He just smiles wryly, his fingers clenching your jaw ruthlessly, not allowing you to turn away.

"There's no need to provoke me, Candy." - He speaks in a low tone, his voice laced with irritation and morbid desire.

You can't breathe. He's too close. His weight is overwhelming, squeezing your chest, leaving no room for resistance. But you are not going to give up. He tries to get through your clothes and you're glad you have a coat on.

"Let me go, or else..." - Your voice breaks, but you force yourself to continue. "If you... if you do that, I'll kill myself!" - Doohoon freezes. His eyes darken even more, and this time there is something new in them - anxiety. He looks at you, his breathing steadies, and his fingers weaken. He is breathing heavily, just like you. You are painfully disgusted with him lying on top of you. He looks at your face for a moment longer, then lets you go and sits on the edge of the bed. He runs his hands over his face.

You can only hear his heavy breathing in the room. You climb further up on the bed, farther away from Doohoon. He turns to you, seeing your frightened look.

"You prefer death to being with me?" - He asks, more disappointed than angry. You look up at him, frightened, exhausted, and broken. Hot tears flow down your face from your shock. You hadn't eaten properly for two days and didn't sleep well, and you didn't have the strength to fight him because he is a healthy, strong man. Even if you knew some taekwondo moves, you couldn't use them, you just don't have the physical strength.

You are silent, scared to death. Doohoon approaches again, but he doesn't get too close. Your eyes are pure fear.

"Candy, you'll be mine willingly. You'll see, I'm much better than that bastard. We'll be happy together, you just have to accept me." - He looks at you, and you don't say anything, still crying. He curses, exhaling heavily. "I'll prove to you that you won't be disappointed in me. Just give me a chance." - He says desperately. You shiver from the old age and the cold.

"I'd rather die than be with you." - You say, determination in your voice. "You are a sick bastard who attacked a pregnant woman and kidnapped her." - You say, finally trampling on Doohoon’s hopes of having any kind of relationship with you. His eyes express anger. He raises his eyebrows and looks at you for a long time. Then he stands up abruptly. He turns to you and his voice is colder than the weather outside.

"I told you that you are mine. Whether you like it or not." - He pushed his foot away the chair with the cold corndog still on it. "Jungkook will not find you, and we will leave here very soon. To a place where no one will know you or me. And of course , I won't let you carry his child." - You freeze. It's like you're paralyzed.

"What...?" - You whisper unconsciously.

"Do you think I'm going to let you have of his child in you?" - His face distorts with anger. "I'll take it away, just like everything else."

You clutch your stomach, as if that could somehow protect your child.

"You won't do that..." - You say, shaking your head.

"I've already decided." - His voice is cold. "Jungkook is dead. And his child shouldn't live." - You clench your jaw, feeling the hot tears running down your cheeks in a thin ribbon along the route you've already laid out.

"If you ever hurt my child, I swear with everything I have, I will kill you." - You threatened. And you were one hundred percent sure of your words. You would never have thought of saying such words before, not even in your mind, let alone felt that you could do it.

Doohoon doesn't answer. He turns around and leaves the room, locking it.

The morning greets you with a coldness that penetrates to the bone. You sit with your arms wrapped around yourself, trying to keep warm. Your eyelids are heavy from a sleepless night, but you don't even think about closing your eyes. You can't. Everything is too quiet in this room, and every rustle seems as loud as thunder.

You don't know what time it is, but the sun has already risen high enough that a gray, dim light is shining through the bars of the window. It makes this room even more depressing - the walls seem even dirtier, the ceiling even lower, and your helplessness even more bitter.

You got up several times to stretch your muscles. You went to the window to study the area. There were bars on the window. You tried several times to loosen them, but to no avail. You couldn't make much noise so as not to attract attention. After trying for the third time, you gave up. You closed the window because the room was already cold.

You went to the door and listened. Doohoon's quiet voice was coming from behind the door. You could hear his words broken off: "at the company," "I got rid of phone," "the situation." The only thing you could understand from what you heard was that Doohoon had got rid of phone, but which phone was he talking about? Was it yours or his?

You listened again, but there was silence. You stood at the door, listening intently, but it was still quiet. You exhaled heavily. Your stomach growls, and you are hungry. You glance at the ramen scattered on the floor, and then at the cordon lying on the chair next to the bed. You turn away and go to the bed.

You lie down facing away from the door, curled up in a fetal position to keep warm. You close your eyes and feel terribly tired. You lie there wondering how to escape, what to do next. Is Jungkook looking for you? He should know by now that you are gone.

Your chest is pierced with pain, he is definitely looking for you. Namjoon didn't kill him. He couldn't have. He would've definitely looked into whether Jungkook could've betrayed him first. You think that would have been the case. But what if he didn't? Your blood runs cold at the thought that Jungkook could have been killed. You quickly push away the horrible thoughts that you shouldn't get yourself worked up.

You almost doze off. A cold, unpleasant dream was beginning to envelop you when suddenly you heard a loud bang. You sat up sharply on the bed, frightened. It felt like someone smashed a chair against the wall.

"FUCK! WHY THE FUCK IS THAT BASTARD STILL ALIVE!!!" - You hear Doohoon's furious voice. Your heart is pounding in your chest in a frantic rhythm. He's alive. Jungkook is alive. And he's looking for you. You run to the door, listening to what's going on behind it. "I PAID YOU MONEY TO DO THE RIGHT THING! LISTEN, YOU DUMBASS, IF I GET TO YOU, AND I WILL, YOU'RE GOING TO BE SORRY YOU DIDN'T DO IT RIGHT." - Doohoon is shouting somewhere in the next room and you can hear him clearly. He stops talking and you listen intently to the silence without even breathing. "Is he coming here?" - You can barely hear. A smile touches your lips. Your heart is racing. Jungkook is coming to get you.

But you cannot rejoice for long. You hear quick footsteps and run to bed. You barely have time to lie down on it, turning away, when the door opens. They swing open with such force that they kick up dust in a shock wave. You turn your head. Doohoon bursts into the room, his face contorted with anger, his eyes full of madness.

"Get up!" - He barks. He walks toward you and you notice a rope in his hands. You don't move. "I said get up!" - He shouts again. You look down at the ropes and notice on his wristwatch that it is 7 am.

He grabs your arm, pulling you to the edge of the bed. Before you can resist, he deftly throws the rope and ties your wrists together. Tightly. So hard that you can barely hold back a moan of pain.

"What are you doing?!" - You struggle, but it's no use. He ties you up. Your hands are tied behind your back, in a tight knot, binding them very tightly.

"We're leaving." - His voice is cold. He pushes you toward the door, forcing you to walk ahead. A few minutes later, you find yourself at the car. Doohoon opens the back door and then shoves you inside with a sudden movement. "Don't think about anything stupid." - He warns you. "I'm not an idiot to give you a chance to be free."

He drive for a long time. You don't know exactly how much time has passed. The windows are darkened, and your hands are cramping from the rough rope. You are worried that he has taken you too far. But Jungkook will definitely be able to find you, you are one hundred percent sure. You are sure that his friends from Ran Noir are helping him. They must be helping him.

When the car finally stops, Doohoon pulls you out and leads you inside a building. It's a small motel. The lamps on its sign have long since burned out, and old yellow light bulbs glow dimly in the corridors. It's almost at the end of its life.

"Be quiet." - He orders, stopping you at the threshold. "If you make a sound, you'll regret it."

You walk into a horrible lobby. An old man sits at the reception desk. He looks at you indifferently. Doohoon doesn't even try to hide your tied-up position. His hand squeezes your shoulder so hard that you're sure it will bruise.

"We need a number." - He says sharply, throwing a money on the countere. The old man looks at you lazily, then shrugs and holds out a key.

"Second floor, end of the corridor." - He answers, grabbing the money and starting to count it. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. This old man doesn't seem to care that you are tied up and dirty. Maybe he sees pictures like this every day, or maybe the earnings in this motel are so meager that he doesn't neglect any earnings.

Doohoon pulls you sharply behind him, forcing you to hurry up the stairs. The door closes with a loud click. The room is filled with the musty smell of dampness and dust. The gray curtain is barely hanging on the curtain rod, and there are dark spots on the ceiling.

"Sit down." - He orders, pushing you toward the old sofa. You don't argue. There is no point in it. You just look up at him, not hiding your anger.

"What are you going to do now? Are you going to sit here and watch me until your plan falls apart?" - You ask. The hope that Jungkook will find you soon gives you strength.

"Shut your mouth!" - He growls. "Don't try my patience!" - He warns. You shut up, thinking it's the right thing to do.

Doohoon doesn't sit down. He walks nervously around the room, clutching his phone in his hand. You realize he's nervous.

A few minutes later his phone rings. Doohoon answers it almost immediately.

"Yes!" - His voice is tense. You stare at his face, trying to understand what's going on. But it's not him who gives you the answer.

"Doohoon, I just found out that they've tracked you down. I saw that Jin is monitoring the roads from Seoul to Osan and Cheonan." - The voice on the phone is clear enough. You hold your breath. Ran Noir is looking for you, along with Jungkook. All you have to do is hold out until they find you.

"Damn shit!" - Doohoon curses. "DO SOMETHING! Turn off the lights, turn off the internet. Do something to buy me some time!" - He yells, ordering.

"Yes, Doohoon, I'll do anything for y..." - Suddenly the sound in the phone changes. It's screaming. The man on the other end seems to be choking on his own words.

"What the...?!" - Doohoon doesn't understand what happened. He hears the rustling and screaming. "Hey Insoo, what's wrong?" - Doohoon waits for an answer. You strain your ears. And you hear someone answering.

"Hello, honey." - You hear a familiar voice, but you can't remember who it belongs to. "Hey Doohoon, I think you're in big-big shit." - You catch the jovial tone and realize it must be Jin.

"Fuck!" - Doohoon throws the phone against the wall with all his might. You duck as the phone goes straight over your head. It shatters, falling into pieces. You realize only now that it was not his phone. He was using an iPhone, and the broken phone, the pieces of which are lying not far from your feet, is a Samsung. You don't have time to say anything. He abruptly grabs you, forcing you to stand up.

Doohoon drags you outside. He opens the car and pulls you into the trunk. Once you're in it, panic immediately clamps down on your throat. There is not enough air. There's not enough space. Your head is pounding, but you try not to panic.

You don't know how much time is passing. You were counting the minutes, but then you lost track. You were also ready to remember whether he turned, whether he turned on his turn signals, whether he stopped at a traffic light. But it was useless. You drove straight the whole time, not stopping anywhere.

When the car finally stops, Doohoon pulls you again. Your whole body hurts and you are exhausted to the max. The building he brings you to looks like it should have collapsed long ago. You inhale the dust and metallic flavor. An aluminum factory or something like that?

Doohoon drags you up the stairs, which sway under the weight of his steps. He sits you down on the floor. And he looks nervously out the window, which looks like it leads to the road. You see him reach into the waistband of his pants and pull out a gun. You freeze in horror.

He twirls the gun in his hands as if thinking about something, and then abruptly puts it down on the windowsill, sighing heavily. The room is in tense silence, broken only by the sound of the wind seeping through the cracks in the walls.

You clench your fists, feeling the ropes cut into your wrists. Your heart is pounding furiously.

"Why did you do all this? What have you achieved?" - You ask, your voice hoarse with fatigue. Doohoon doesn't even turn his head.

"You should have been mine from the beginning." - His voice trembles with anger. "He stole you from me, shamelessly, when I told him I liked you." - He turns to you, and his eyes are fierce. "You chose a scumbag. You chose him!" - Doohoon takes a step closer, and you instinctively move away. "And I... I loved you all my life!" - You shudder at his words.

"Love?" - You laugh bitterly. "Is this love? Kidnapping, violence, threats?" - He clenches his jaws, his eyes full of hatred.

"I could have given you everything... You ran to him. To an arrogant, narcissistic bastard who fucked everything that moved! And you took him when he was sated enough." - You look up at him sharply.

"You think you can hurt me with that? Do you think I don't know that?" - You ask. Doohoon grinds his teeth.

"You know…" - He said with venom in his voice. "So that means you just another one on his list. Another Jungkook’s whore!" - Doohoon says roughly and approaches you.

"And you're just another pathetic loser who can't accept the fact that he's been rejected!" - You reply with no less rudeness. His fist clenches. And a moment later you feel a sharp pain as his palm comes down on your cheek with all its strength. Your head falls to the side, your ears ring.

"SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!" - Doohoon screaming. You accidentally bite your lip, not expecting a blow, and it starts to bleed. You remain silent, licking your lips, the taste of blood flooding your mouth. "I'll wait for him here." - Doohoon says, grabbing your hair. He tilts your head back and looks right into your eyes. "And this time it really will be over." - He pulls your head back and walks away.

You are left alone. Your chest heaves painfully with deep breathing. Tears are in your eyes, but you don't let them escape.

And suddenly... A barely audible rustle. You raise your head sharply. And you meet his eyes.

Jungkook.

↰ Previous chapter ⋮ ≣ Index ↓ ⋮ Next chapter ↱

#jungkook x reader #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x f!reader #jungkook smut #jungkook friends with benefits #bts mafia au #jungkook imagine #bts fanfction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x original character #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook fic

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vidjauser-player-206 · 17 days ago

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Dae-ho x Pregnant F!Reader

Pairing: Dae-ho x F!Pregnant reader

Triggers: Squid game typical violence and death, brief mention of trafficking, mention of abusive baby daddy, Dae-ho is NOT the father, cursing

Tags: Pregnancy, fluff, 2 endings, 1 angsty ending, 1 good ending

Words: 3.2k

Read on Ao3!

Main blog/Art Commissions/Masterlist:

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BlueSky

I have a couple more chapters planned for this, and two endings. Possibly some bonus smut after this is all finished? : ) I've been on such a hype for this fella. I love him so much.

Also happy Valentines everyone!

CHAPTER ONE

The two of you met in the games. You were approximately 8 months pregnant, so close to popping out your child, but not quite there yet. The only reason you were in these stupid games was because you were desperate. Your baby daddy ran off shortly after you had told him about the baby, around your second month of pregnancy. You weren’t too surprised, however, what did surprise you was the fact that his loan sharks started lurking around your place. You had guessed that he had gone fully into hiding, and they sought out the first person they knew he was close to.

One of the loan sharks had pressed you against the wall, threatening to do awful things to you if you didn’t get the money by the end of the month. He stared at your belly greedily as he said it.

After that, you feared what would truly happen when the end of the month came. You weren’t sure how you were going to afford to pay such a big debt, but also your rent and impending bills that would come with all the baby related medical appointments you needed…

You knew your baby was a girl, and you feared the worst would happen once they found that out.

Despite not knowing what you would be getting yourself into, you still found yourself playing Ddakji in the subway station on your way to a doctor’s appointment, which you ended up skipping after getting slapped a few times by the Recruiter, who wasn’t light on the slaps despite your obvious predicament weighing your stomach down. That card you held in your hands felt like your own hope and savior, so you had called and confirmed your information.

Being drugged in the limo was scary, and what was even scarier was the fact that you woke up in a room of what felt like a thousand people, now in different clothing. Which meant that someone undressed you. This wasn’t where you thought you would wind up. The room only had bunk beds stretched nearly to the ceiling. You never thought that they could go that high. The walls were mostly blank, other than some childlike paintings. It reminded you of a pediatric waiting room but the doctors had forgotten the colorful paint, scaring the children⁠—and you⁠—rather than making them feel welcomed. You could almost smell the foul stench of bleached floors, making your nose crinkle as you got out of your bunk. At least the person who changed you had the decency to put you on a lower bunk.

You avoided the people who emerged from the bunks, though when you met the eyes of a couple of them, they always fell down to your stomach with a surprised expression.

You ignored them and proceeded through a big door to a wacky set of stairways that came straight out of a surreal painting, took your photo, and ended up on a field of sand. Once again, you felt like a kid, though rather out on the playing field, ready to play sports in Physical Education. The first game was…Red Light, Green Light? That threw you off. This felt too weird to believe that you were just playing kid’s games for money…What was the catch?

It would be a whole lot worse than you thought, and your survival was only thanks to Player 388. The number burned in the back of your mind, becoming your lucky number at that moment.

After the first gunshot and once everyone scattered⁠—being promptly shot once they moved even an inch⁠—Player 456 called for shorter players to get behind taller ones, claiming that the robot couldn’t see things behind the players.

“Green light!”

The man in front of you turned and grabbed you by your shoulders.

“What the hell⁠—” You cried and slammed your fists against his shoulders, afraid he was going to pull you in front of him and use you as some sort of human shield.

“Get behind me.” He says firmly.

Instead, his strong arms yanked you behind him, and you got a faceful of that number you would never forget. 388. He kept one hand behind him so he could keep his hands on you while the two of you ran. You kept his shirt balled in your fist but let go when you two stopped, fearing you might knock him over.

“Red light!”

There were only a couple of gunshots.

With each gunshot, Player 388 trembled, and you could feel through his grip that it was hard for him to sit still when he heard the gunshots. You couldn’t blame him though, you were trembling too. The two of you remained brave, especially him— for not only carrying himself, but you and your baby too.

You couldn’t help but admire him from behind. A hero…your hero.

In the beginning, everyone only had five minutes to make it across the finish line, now it was down to one. You swore that you weren’t going to make it. Player 388 should have left you there,but he didn’t.

There was cramping everywhere in your abdomen and below. Your baby was protesting against all the new movements you had avoided throughout your pregnancy. You pleaded quietly for her to stop kicking your bladder.

“Green light!”

Everyone moved forward again.

Soon, close to the finish line, a few players behind you lurched forward after tripping, knocking you in the same direction. Player 388 dug his heels into the ground, and it was like running straight into a stone wall. Your body and stomach were pressed right into him, almost intimately.

“Red light!” The robot’s head spun around, eyes scanning furiously.

The players who had knocked into you all stood right as the robot’s head moved. They weren’t so lucky, and you heard the gunshots. Thank God you were behind Player 388 because your head naturally creaked to the side as you peered at the bodies that had thumped behind you. You regretted looking immediately. You realized you moved and waited for another gunshot. Though, it never came.

After what felt like their final minute was up, the robot’s head spun back toward the tree. “Green light!”

“Come on!” Player 388 spun around, and for a second you saw his face. You could barely register it though, unable to process details in the heat of the moment. All you knew was that he was handsome and sweaty.

Player 388 grabbed your elbow and you grabbed another handful of his shirt, the two of you booking it.

Running across the finish line felt like you were running in slow motion, but you felt a wave of relief when you did. You were safe. You were alive. You and your baby made it.

Your feet caught and tangled on the man’s and the two of you went down, though your fall was cushioned by his body. It didn’t stop the twinge of pain in your abdomen, however, and you feared that the fall might be the thing that does you in, until your mind focused back onto the playing field.

Other players either made it across the finish lines themselves or they were promptly shot and killed. Your eyes were glued on the merciless scene, and your own pains were momentarily forgotten, until you broke yourself out of the spell.

You looked down to your body and Player 388’s, tangled together on the ground. His hand was still on your elbow, and only in that second did he lighten his grip. There might be a bruise later on, but you didn’t care. He saved your life..

You looked at his face. His mouth was slightly agape, giving a far-off expression, like he wasn’t there anymore. His dark hair was swept back in a sweaty ponytail but strands of his hair were falling on his forehead. You had to resist the urge to reach up and brush it out of his face. You didn’t want to spook him so you kept your hands to yourself.

There was one last gunshot, and you saw his face flinch, taking him out of his far-away expression and he met your eyes with his dark ones.

His grip on your arm tightens. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, his eyes casting down to your stomach for only a second. His hand moved to rest on your upper arm. “Are you both okay?”

You cradle your belly and quickly nod. “Yes, thank you. You really saved my ass out there. I thought it was all a game, until…” You couldn’t say it out loud. Instead, you brought your hand to your mouth, fighting choked up tears. Everything was catching up to you, making you feel overwhelmed. You were sure he was feeling the same way.

His fingers cupped the back of your neck, tugging you forward. You lean your forehead against his shoulder, and he moves his hand to your trembling shoulders to comfort you. You stayed there momentarily but finally pulled back to look at his face, to take in him fully. You were drawn to the sharp yet somehow soft lines of his face. His hair was dark and so were his eyes as they bore down into your soul, almost touching you in your heart in a way no one else’s had before. You were used to expressions of fury, or the scrunched up eyebrows of someone who was screaming at you. This face was different. It brought you comfort when you most needed it.

You continued, forcing yourself to snap out of the trance this man had you under, “You could have left me out there when that man said for everyone to get into lines. You didn’t have to risk your life for mine.” Yet he did.

“What kind of man, let alone Marine, would I be if I left a mother and her unborn baby out in danger? A piece of shit…That’s the kind of man I would be. Here, let me help you up.”

Player 388 had to untangle your bodies before he could stand. He helped you up by pulling you up by your forearms, then stabilized you when you faltered.

You were about to thank him when the guards led everyone back to the exit. A lot of the other players didn’t hesitate and listened immediately, rushing for the exit. Player 388 wrapped an arm around your waist, hand resting against the edge of your pregnant belly. “Let’s go. I have a feeling we shouldn’t piss these guys off.”

“Yeah…They’re the ones with the guns.”

“Agreed.” He nods his head firmly.

For once, you didn’t mind that a man’s hands were pulling you somewhere. You just wanted out of that damn arena more than anything. It was a bit awkward once you got to the stairs, so he moved behind you to help you up. Still…you had no complaints for now. You weren’t sure if you had enough mental or physical energy to support yourself at this point. You kept your hand on the edge of the stairs and the other on your stomach, pushing yourself beyond today.

“I think we’re close to the dormitory now, then you can rest.” Player 388 said close to your ear.

“Thank god,” you said gratefully.

You would have jumped for joy when you saw those big doors if you didn’t have a whole ass baby in your stomach.

“I’m never taking a bed for granted again…” You sighed.

“You and me both, let’s get you sitting down…” Player 388 walked with you back to the bunks stairs.

Looking around the room, you couldn’t be sure of the exact number, but you could tell that the crowd was thinned out by at least a hundred or so. Now, you felt like your swollen belly stuck out like a sore thumb.

The entire atmosphere of the dormitory completely changed, it was worse than a hospital, you felt like you were in a prison.

Player 388 interrupted your thoughts, “Do you want to stick with me?” He asked softly, “I think the more people we have, the better off we’re going to be…” He looked down at your stomach. He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he was thinking about saying something about protecting the baby.

As the two of you walked to the bed, you noticed how his arm felt large around your shoulders, he definitely had a lot of muscles. The pair of you looked like a couple, really. The way he was clinging to you probably gave others the impression that he put the baby in you. You didn’t know the man that well, but if he really was as sweet as he was acting right now, then you wouldn’t have let him become your ex. If you were one of the other players staring at you two, you would have thought, what kind of stupid man lets his wife join these games and what kind of stupid bitch would you be to put yourself in that situation too?

Wait, why were you even thinking of this?

Player 388 stared at you, expecting an answer but not rushing to get it out of you.

“...Yes.” You nod. “But I think I need to know your name first.”

The man nods in agreement. “Let’s get you seated first.”

You were touched he was so thoughtful about you and your baby’s wellbeing.

Bringing you over to the lower bunk’s stairway, the man helped you waddle over and then sit. He shifts, sitting down on your left, his legs slightly apart as he sits. You knew that soon, all the pain and discomfort would catch up to you. For now, you savored the man’s sweet smiles. The sweetest one you had ever seen, especially from a man.

“What’s your name?” You reminded him.

Player 388 put a hand over his chest, giving his head a small bow. “I’m Kang Dae-ho.” He raises his hands and puts his fingers out in an exaggerated way, like he was a cat showing its claws. He directs it towards your belly, like he was giving the baby a little game of charades. Your stomach fluttered.

No wait, that was the baby kicking.

Gasping, you had to lean back and hold your stomach for a second.

Dae-ho’s face fell and he looked down to your belly in concern, his hand coming out to touch it but letting it hover instead. “Are you okay⁠—?”

You nod, releasing a strained gasp. “Yeah…She just kicked me in the ribs.” You take his hovering hand and pressed it to your stomach, watching as his eyes widen even more.

Dae-ho’s eyes lingered on your belly before lifting up to meet your eyes. His hand rubbed your belly up and down, feeling the small kicks against his palm. “You’re having a baby girl…? What’s her name?”

You smiled bashfully. “She doesn’t have a name yet. I figured it would come to me once I see her face for the first time…Mine is…” You told him your name, the two basking in each other’s presence quietly, at least until the doors opened and pink guards with guns marched into the room.

Something snapped in Dae-ho and immediately he took a protective position in front of you, his arm coming out to completely shield you as if he expected the guards to march right up to the two of you and shoot you specifically. They didn’t, rather, they stood at the opening of the door. There was one guard who stood at the front, a square mask on his face. There were a couple with triangles, instead of the square, with guns standing behind them. You admittedly cowered and gripped the back of Dae-ho’s shirt, feeling the pounding of your and your baby’s hearts like drums beating with one another.

A vote. That’s what came next from the guards. It was O’s, those who wanted to stay, and X’s, those who wanted to return home.

Dae-ho had calmed down, but remained by your side, comfortably rubbing your shoulder and sometimes your stomach.

You thought you would have time to think about your vote, but the main guard announced that they would do it backwards, starting with Player 456. You looked down to the number on your shirt. You were Player 451. You were going to vote within just a few players.

“Player 451.”

Soon, you stood and with the help of Dae-ho, you were helped to your feet. He was perfectly willing to take you all the way down the line up to the buttons but you put your hand on his shoulder and shook your head. “I can do this…”

“Okay…” he responded hesitantly.

You made your way down the line, both hands cradling your belly. The eyes of the other players glared like birds with claws ready to slice at you for picking the wrong choice. Soon you stood in front of the guard, the red and blue buttons appearing much larger than what you thought they would be. You looked to the red X, and then to the blue O. You raised your hand…and pressed O. The blue light shined on your face.

It was impossible to look up to find Dae-ho in the crowd. You weren’t sure what his choice was going to be. You hadn’t mentioned it to each other. And if he was planning to pick X, then you probably fucked everything up.

Without looking up, you made your way to the O side and stood next to a stranger, who gave you a side eye, but luckily said nothing. Dae-ho’s number wouldn’t be called for a while.

When you finally heard it, you squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to look up as he made his way down and pressed a button. You heard the noise, but couldn’t register which button it was.

You didn’t expect a warm and strong arm wrap around your shoulders, pressing you forward. You eyes shot open and you looked up, seeing Dae-ho smile down at you warmly. Your eyes moved down to his chest, and there you saw it…a Blue O patch…He had chosen to stay.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily…” The man mumbled and smiled reassuringly. He pulled you back into his chest, hugging you as tight as he could with your belly in the way.

You smiled weakly and wrapped your hands behind his shoulder blades, unable to say anything. But you were happy and grateful for him.

The two of you remained in each other’s arms until voting ended. Thank god, your ankles were about to explode. The guards dismissed themselves, leaving everyone to their own devices.

“I need to go lay down, please. My body is about to explode.” You laughed weakly.

“I’ve got ya…” Dae-ho guided you back to the beds with a hand on your lower back. He helped you climb into the first bed you could make it to, and pulled the blankets up to your chest.

You grabbed at his sleeve before he could pull away. “I might need to go to the restroom later —but for now, I’m just going to sleep. Stay nearby?” At this point, your eyes were already drooping, but you couldn’t take your eyes off his goofy grin as he nodded.

“Of course. I won’t leave you for a second. I want you to sleep and rest, For you and your baby…” He pressed his forehead to the top of your hair. You fell asleep in his arms, memorizing his warmth and smell.

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wannab-urs · 3 months ago

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Pedro Pascal Character Fic Recs | Vol 43

AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist

Hello Friends!

Welcome to the 43rd installment of the Spreadsheet Digest! I did a lot of reading this week and I'm very excited to share it with y'all. All summaries and tags are provided by the author, unless they weren't - then I filled them in.

Want to be on the digest? Tag me in your work and I'll do my best to read it <3

Let Them See - Dave one shot by @sizzlingcloudmentality

he gets you off in front of the other guys

explicit, smut, no use of y/n, reader is ablebodied, d/s dynamics (duh), voyeurism, exhibitionism, very affectionate degradation (it's Dave, of course he calls you a slut), female masturbation, male masturbation, unprotected p in v, very affectionate possessive talk, creampie, petnames (baby), choking

This is so hot... Like... SO hot

Let Them Feel - Dave one shot by @guiltyasdave

(author's note) yesterday the lovely em @/luxurychristmaspudding posted this poll with the compelling question in a room full of p boys, who is getting you off (in front of everyone else 👀)?, which led to the lovely daphne @/sizzlingcloudmentality posting let them see (go read that asap!), which then led to me asking "hey do you mind if i continue this?" and then writing 2k words in a state that i can only describe as possessed

explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be grabbed, no use of y/n, dom!dave, exhibitionism, lowkey group sex tbh, rough oral sex (m receiving), fingering, degradation kink, praise kink

After reading Let Them See, I was dying for more because it was so good and then the lovely Jana gave me more and it was everything.

Eros and Psyche - Dieter series by @schnarfer

Dieter is a modern day Greek God Eros. We’re going full existential dread rom-com, actually.

Vaguely inspired by the Greek myth of Eros & Psyche, soul mates, yearning, emotional torment, drugs and alcohol references, lots of swears, slow burn, discussions of death and mental health, eventual smut. Dieter is a walking red flag. Reader is named (Psyche) but physical descriptions are minimal. Time is meaningless but also always marching on. Lots of Dieter POV. Fleabag coded.

this fic... I adore the soulmates trope as sort of a guilty pleasure, but this was beyond anything I've ever read within that trope. It's sweet, a bit sad at times, and just perfect in every way. The descriptions, the characters, the everything. Despite my rambling I feel like I'm speechless because I can't quite articulate why I think this fic is perfect. Just trust me.

Do it Like Madonna - Dieter one shot by @covetyou

Being Dieter Bravo's plus one to a party isn't always all it's cracked up to be, and sometimes, just sometimes, it puts a smile on your face anyway.

no smut. nudity. mention of Dieter Bravo's dick and balls. drug and alcohol use/refrence, improper use of party hats. cameos from Javi G, Oberyn, and Santos (all the P-Boys are there!) gn!reader

This is so fucking funny and so quintessentially Dieter. Perfection

Bloodlust - Din series by @dindjarindiaries

A daring favor from Boba Fett sends you and your long-time business partner, Din Djarin, undercover together—as a married couple.

fake marriage, fluff & angst, hurt/comfort, eventual/mild smut, sexual references, injuries & blood, canon-typical violence

this fic was adorable, and the plot was so interesting. I love their love ugh. It's just so cute and earnest and everything I needed.

Waiting Game - Din/Ez one shot by @northernbluess

din quite literally crashed into your life when you least expected it. injured and seriously stubborn, you took him in and as you tenderly nursed him to health, your bond grew in quiet shared moments. the day came when he was recovered enough to leave you, except he never did. now, you find yourself in a similar predicament, taking in another wearied stranger just as you had with din. he ensnares you, pulling you into his orbit, with his silver tongue, stolen touches, and hungry eyes—but what happens when you find out that he has seemingly charmed din too?

threesome, m/m/f, voyeur ezra, possessive din, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected PIV sex, unprotected anal sex, double penetration, fingering, slight dom!din, ezra is a bit of a creep at first, major canon divergence (no grogu, no cee, ezra still has his arm, etc.), choking/breathplay, biting, squirting, one (1) slap, lots of tension, panties(?), mutual pining, probably OOC, pure filth tbh. no use of y/n.

I am unhinged about this. DinEz is my favorite ship and I adore MMF threesome fics with them. This was breathtakingly good.

Thy Kingdom Cum - Ezra one shot by @absurdthirst and @storiesofthefandomlovers

The new priest's arrival to your parish has you doubting your commitment to God.

Blasphemy, inaccuracies with nuns/religious inaccuracies, religious guilt, lust, desire, demonic possession, dark intentions, sexual corruption, loss of innocence, virgin reader, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, derogatory language, sex in a confessional, cock riding, pregnancy, mentions of prophesy, end of times, unnatural childbirth, death

Always love a good demon!Ezra, and I loved the steep fall into corruption little bird went through ugh. This was so good. The innocence of reader and the depravity of Ez was such a good contrast. I love this

Sit Back, Baby - Frankie one shot by @almostfoxglove

You've got a crush on your neighbor across the hall and finally get the chance to show him you care.

Smut (m!oral), pwp, drinking (not during smut), sorta sub!Frankie.soft,

subby frankie is forever one of my favorites. I just wanna take care of him dammit. Can't resist a good blowjob fic either. All around wonderful in every way.

Bad Idea - Javi P one shot by @murder-wife

A lil quickie on the couch never hurt anyone

fingering, unprotected PIV, panty sniffing, couch sex, the sex blanket makes an appearance! *LEAVING SOME THINGS UNTAGGED TO AVOID SPOILERS* proceed with caution, nothing dark, everyone is of age and constenting

I love everything about this. The whole premise is perfect. The plot twist??? to die for, truly.

You Can Be My Daddy - Javi P one shot by @thesummerpetrichor

Your soon to be husband leaves you at the altar, but you should have guessed since the practice seemed to run in the family. It’s hard to be upset however, when his father comes to repent for not only his own but his son’s wrong doings. Aka fiancé’s dad Javi fucking you in your wedding dress after his son ditches you at the altar.

Minimal editing, unspecified but thicc and legal age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, insane dirty talk, toxic father son relationship, reader is delulu, praise kink, petnames, sex in front of a mirror, veil pulling??, a few spanks, creampie, Javi fucks you into the mattress, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!].

Getting left at the altar sucks, but getting fucked into the mattress by your would-be father-in-law makes it alllll better. God damn this was hot

A Litany of Lethe - Javi P one shot by @kiwisbell

Working on his father’s ranch, Javier Peña tries to leave Colombia behind. The new housekeeper reminds him how much he enjoys a challenge.

post-narcos s3 canon, slow burn, catch the much ado references and i’ll give u a cookie, second chance, enemies to lovers, i take liberties with some geography, javi suffers from foot-in-the-mouth syndrome, angsty javier, angsty reader, angsty everything, bickering, tension of all varieties, emotional constipation from both parties, chucho being wingman no. 1, discussions of past sexual relationships, mentions of domestic abuse (not against reader), implied child neglect/abuse, grovelling king javier peña, we call him grovi, implied age gap, it's been 10 years since javi left for colombia bc i said so, reader has hair, javi is a munch, oral sex (f receiving), grinding, bickering during sex, javi is not a brat tamer but he is a brat handler (thank u mya), unprotected PIV, creampie, dirty talk, fingering, pussy pronouns, lots of biting, javi vampire confirmed??

This reads like literature or poetry or some shit. I loved Javi's internal monologue so much. I loved getting inside his head like that. The smut is so worth the wait too ugh. I love a long ass one shot <3

Touch Tank - Javi P one shot by @thundermartini

Javier helps you get over a little self-confidence crisis.

it’s self indulgent porn with plot guys. smut, kissing, oral sex - f! receiving + m! receiving, shower sex, mention of piv sex, allusion to vaginal fingering, established relationship, domestic fluff, pet names, soft!javi, blue shirt javi (but picture any javi you want), a lot of feelings again, reader has hair, insecure reader (mentions of her not fitting in the lingerie she chose as she would love to but no further descriptions so you can imagine whatever you want).

Obsessed with Javi being into lingerie, first of all. I blame @iamskyereads Lie to Me for that. Secondly, this was so hot and sweet. I love how they make each other feel better. So fucking cuuuuute

Me on You - Joel one shot by @luxurychristmaspudding

after a night out dancing and a lift home turns into something more, you learn something about your dad's buddy.

it's smut, y'all. everything you've come to expect. respectable age gap (10 years ish), tiny bit of spanking, one (1) gentle pussy slap, lil bit of daddy kink, joel miller eats it from the back (oral (f&m)), edging, unprotected piv (do better), creampie, feelings, joel miller's whore mouth.

Joel Miller fucks and it is so unbearably hot

Lost in the Darkness - Joel one shot by softlybarnes (AO3)

Joel wants you. The only problem is you're the on the arm of one of his partners.

Angst, Abuse, Abusive Relationships (not between reader/joel), Smut, Biting, Insecurity, Self-Worth Issues, Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Anxiety, Dissociation, Canon-Typical Violence, Torture, Blood and Injury, Past Sexual Assault, Character Death

Ohhhh I love this. The way they're both fucking feral ugh. It's so good.

There's a Place and Time - Joel one shot by @penvisions

Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

age gap (joel is mid 30's / reader is mid 20's), angst, biting words, argumentative language, joel is a lil meanie but so is reader, grief, off-screen loss, depictions of depression, comfort, mushy stuff

Joel has foot in mouth disease lmaooo. I liked the depiction of grief in this a lot. Very sweet fic with some excellent banter and even better softness.

So Much to Lose - Joel series by @auteurdelabre

Newly settled into Jackson city and forced to go on patrols with the miserable Joel Miller sets off a chain of events and encounters that have you questioning everything, including your own heart.

Enemies to Lovers, Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Dom/sub Undertones, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Eventual Happy Ending, Shameless Smut, Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fingerfucking, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Face-Fucking, Lesbian Ellie (The Last of Us), Drama & Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Outdoor Sex, Forced Bonding, Cooking, Guitars, Love Confessions, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Trauma

The thing I really love about this fic is the way the side characters are integrated and just as important as reader and Joel. Jennifer, Luke, Ellie, Maria -- they're all important. I also love the slow transition from mean!Joel to soft!Joel, the way it isn't exactly linear, and the motivations behind his behavior. It's so rewarding to watch him open up over time UGH. So Good.

Scarlet Haze - Joel series by @katiexpunk

Life in the QZ was fairly predictable. That was, until Joel Miller showed up on your doorstep covered in blood. Since then, you've helped him more times than you can count. Now it's his turn to return the favor.

SEX POLLEN. SEX POLLEN. SEX POLLEN. Set in the TLOU universe in the Boston QZ. Buckle the fuck up for a lot of filthy, feral smut. Check chapter warnings for specifics.

GOD I love sex pollen fics. so so much. This series is unfinished but you get smut in part two and it's entirely worth it. So fucking good.

I Know You By Heart - Joel/Ezra series by @sixhours

Joel and Ellie settle into their new lives in Jackson but it's not the easiest transition. Thankfully Jackson has a counselor to help with that.

Joel is bad at feelings and relationships, Ellie is a little shit (affectionate), canon-compliant with season 1, SMUT, gay sex, anal sex, anal fingering, blowjobs, bisexual!Joel, period-typical homophobia, light angst, angst with a happy ending, romance, alcoholic behavior, age gap (~10ish years so barely a thing)

Obsessed with this pairing. Ezra and Cee in Jackson?? I love it so much. The smut is so good... Like... SO GOOD. I love me some gay pedro boys and I love gay dads in love. HMU for more gay dads in love fics, bc I have a couple recs.

Fortnight - Lucien one shot by @pedgito

it was never a favor, allowing him to take up space in your apartment. but, time after time, he finds his way back and somehow, it brings an unexpected normalcy to your life.

the uninvited spoilers, set post-movie, roommates to lovers, enemies to lovers, reader works in the film industry, financial hardship, shitty living situations, lucien is a schmooze and a drunk, but also a sweetheart, angst, feelings, reader has shit luck with dating, there's also smut in here somewhere i swear (oral, couch sex, unprotected piv, all the good stuff)

Oh Lucien the pathetically sexy man that you are. This was everything I wanted it to be and more.

Prima Nocta - Marcus Acacius one shot by @fuckyeahdindjarin

Tomorrow, you will marry your husband-to-be. But tonight - it belongs to his father.

DUB CON only due to nature of prima nocta, both parties enthusiastically consent, twist on prima nocta, unspecified age gap, loss of virginity, dirty talk, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex, unrealistic descriptions of first sexual experience, all manners of historical inaccuracies and linguistic anachronisms sorry not sorry, ignores the events of the movie so you can consider this an AU, Marcus is widowed and has a son, shall we call this bfd: Ancient Rome version lmao

This is the first Marcus Acacius fic I've read and it was fucking incredible. Def will be reading more of him from now on. UGHGHGGH this was so hot.

Cosmic Love - Marcus Acacius/Marcus Pike one shot by @kedsandtubesocks

a missing statue, a handsome ancient roman general, an equally handsome museum visitor - and you caught in the magical (and wonderful) mess of it all

MAJOR GLADIATOR 2 SPOILERS. time travel AU, magic elements, pining & yearning, fluff but with touches of angst, implied age gap (Acacius being older than both reader & Marcus), light use of gendered language, bi!Marcus Acacius & bi!Marcus Pike, brief mention of death & existential questioning, spicy themes, smut (threesome, m!oral, one moment of spitting) M/M/F & M/M dynamics, polyamorous exploration that leads to eventual poly relationship, no use of y/n

I love a time travel AU, it reminds me of Kate and Leopold. This fic was so cute, had just the right touch of angst, and was so hot UGH. I loved how sweet Acacius was and how down bad Pike was and just... everything really

Strawberry Sugar - Oberyn one shot by @guiltyasdave

Your boyfriend spoils you on your birthday morning. In some... unexpected ways.

explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, food play, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), ridiculous amounts of fluff

Delicious, filthy, fluffy, just wonderful, really.

Happy Reading!

#fic recs #the spreadsheet digest #fanfiction recommendations #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

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burntheedges · 4 months ago

Text

Pas de Deux Chapter 4

Din Djarin x f!reader | 2.6k | fic masterlist | main masterlist | ao3

chapter summary: It's time for your first practice with Kuiil and Din, and you're nervous.

a/n: I feel weird putting this up today but this is the schedule I set and I'm a little afraid that if I put it off I'll just never post anything again. I'm gutted and angry but I do love this fic, so. here's the next chapter. See my notes at the end and on the masterlist about reader in this fic and ballet in general. Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta, as always!!

chapter tags/warnings: gen, ballet terms (see end notes and the masterlist for definitions and videos), a bit of angst, a bit of fluff

Chapter 4

You didn’t try to talk to Din again for a few days -- you were suddenly nervous. Adrian said he kept watching you during morning classes, but you hadn’t caught him in the act yet. For your part, you couldn’t stop yourself from watching him, so you figured he must not have been looking that much, because you would have seen him. Right?

You tried to put your stilted conversation with him in the hallway out of your mind. You didn’t want to let it get in your head before practices even started.

On Monday the following week, you were walking down the hall from class to rehearsal when Kuiil fell into step with you. You briefly glanced around, wondering where he’d come from, and smiled when he greeted you.

“I am looking forward to working together.” The echo of your words to Din made you smile, ruefully. As always, Kuiil was direct but his tone was warm. “I am glad Greef agreed with me about casting. I know you will do well.”

You blinked. You thought it had been Karga’s idea. “Oh, well, thank you! I didn’t realize… he didn’t tell me it was your choice.”

Kuill nodded serenely. “Yes. You were my first thought to dance it with Din, when I began to picture it in my mind. You will each bring something important to the piece, something the other could learn from. Something you can share.”

You nodded, even though you weren’t exactly sure what he meant. You were used to that, when talking to Kuiil. “I’m very excited to be in it, and grateful that you thought of me. I’m honored, really.”

He smiled at you as you stopped by the door of your rehearsal for Jee’s piece in the January mixed program. “We will start rehearsal this week, I will update the schedule on the board this afternoon. Before our first meeting, I only ask that you reflect on the idea of existing in the moment, and what that means for you personally and artistically.”

You blinked. This wasn’t your first unexpected request from Kuiil, but it was somehow always a surprise — you could never predict him, and once he was done talking, he was done. There was no use asking for more of an explanation. “I will,” you promised. He nodded and turned to continue down the hallway.

Existing in the moment. Well, you weren’t sure where to start, but you were going to have to try and figure it out before your first rehearsal.

…

On Thursday afternoon, you made your way to the small studio usually reserved for pieces with only two or three dancers. Kuill had scheduled short weekly practices to start focusing on the choreography while everyone was still busy with the upcoming programs for January and February. Adrian had escorted you until you passed his own rehearsal a couple of doors back, and you were glad he had — you’d needed the pep talk.

You can do this.

The door was open when you arrived and you stopped just short to take a few deep breaths. As you did, you realized Din was already inside and you could just hear his low conversation with Kuiil

“… never done something like this before. I—”

Kuiil interrupted him. “Din. You must try to set your worries aside. I know what you have done and what you have not. And I know that you can do this. You must learn to trust in yourself, not in who they said you were. Instead, in who you are.”

There was a pause, and you tried to will yourself to move, but failed. You wanted to hear his response.

“I—” he sighed. “I’ll try. But you know…”

“I know,” Kuiil agreed. You had no idea what they were talking about. You shook yourself into motion — you didn’t want to eavesdrop too much.

You tried to make some noise as you took the last few steps to the open doorway and into the studio. They both turned to look at you as their conversation suddenly stopped.

“Hello, my dear,” Kuiil said, waving you forward. You said hello and moved to meet them by the sound system, dropping your bag nearby. “Welcome.”

You nodded. “Thank you again, Kuiil—”

He waved his hand and you stopped, smiling. You knew what he was going to say.

“No, no, none of that. You are the best choice. And you, too, Din.” Kuiil turned to look at your new partner and you noticed that whatever they might have been discussing, Din had put on his expressionless mask yet again. He nodded.

“Now, we will talk before we dance.” Kuiil looked first at you, and then at Din. “Tell me, what does it mean to you, to exist in the moment?”

You felt relieved for a moment that you weren’t the only one given homework, and then nervous at the thought of sharing what you’d thought about. With one glance at Din you knew he wouldn’t be speaking first. Guess it’s on me, you thought, wryly, and squared your shoulders.

“Well,” you said, tone tentative. “I thought about it, as you asked. I thought of the obvious — not thinking of the future or the past, but only the present. But then in class and in rehearsal I wasn’t sure how that applied because, well, dance is always in the moment, in some ways. It’s an action, it’s happening right now, even though it can reference and build on both the past and future.”

You paused and glanced up at Kuiil. He was nodding. Ok, good. You didn’t look at Din. “And so I thought about it yesterday, in my rehearsal alone for Midsummer and then with everyone for Jee’s piece. And…” you hesitated, and finally risked a glance at Din. You were almost startled to find him staring at you intently, eyes dark and unreadable. You blinked. “And I thought about the difference between being on stage alone and with other people. We dance the choreography, of course, but we also react. To each other and to the music.” You paused.

Kuiil tilted his head. “Go on.”

You took a breath. “Well, being in the moment in dance is more than just following steps you were taught. You have to be aware of your fellow dancers, and you have to move with them but also in response to them, and to yourself. And depending on the ballet, your ability to react or modulate or adjust or improvise could make or break it. But aside from all that, it also puts you in conversation with each other and the music. There’s a difference between dancers moving on stage in unison and dancers moving and working together, even if they’re doing different things. Does that…” you hesitated again, glancing between them. “Does that makes sense?”

Suddenly, Kuiil smiled, and you felt your shoulders relax. “Yes, my dear. An excellent observation. Din?”

You both turned to look at him. For a moment, he said nothing, and you wondered if he really hated talking this much. Then he looked down and murmured, “I agree.” He glanced at you and you shivered. To Kuiil, he said, “The best performances happen when the dancers inhabit the music. Together. When they speak to each other in movement.”

Kuiil nodded. “A sentiment I think your former company might disagree with.”

Din sighed and for a moment you thought you caught the hint of a smile around his mouth. But you blinked and it was gone.

“True,” he nodded. “And it wouldn’t be our first disagreement.”

Kuiil nodded like he understood, and you resisted the sudden, overwhelming urge to ask what other disagreements he’d had with Concordia.

“Well done,” Kuiil said, looking at both of you. “I want you to continue thinking about this question as we work together. This will not be like a classical pas de deux,” he looked at Din, who nodded, “but instead something new. Some parts may be familiar. This piece will have three movements, each staged separately, and it will be difficult. Technically, yes, but also because of what I will ask of you.” He paused, and you felt your heart start to race, not with nerves, but with excitement. “The choreography will ask you to react to one another, at first as strangers, but later in harmony. It will be dynamic. First you will meet,” he gestured with his hands and moved them past one another. “Then you will circle each other,” he moved his hands around each other, sometimes coming closer, sometimes moving farther away. “And finally, you will come together and create something new.” He pressed his hands together and nodded. “Overall, it is about the connection you form and nurture between you, in these short moments together.”

No one spoke for a moment as you took that in. “That sounds beautiful, Kuiil.” Your mind was spinning as you thought of the possibilities for each part of the piece, and what it might look like on stage.

“Thank you, my dear. I believe it is the two of you who will make it so. Now, for today’s practice, we will listen to the first movement, and then I will send you home to listen to the rest. Focus on what you hear and we will talk about it after.” He turned to the sound system and your gaze drifted once more to find Din, to your right.

You found him already looking at you. Your eyes caught, and as the music started, you swore he might have started to smile.

…

You felt better after your first not-quite-practice with Kuiil. You hadn’t danced at all but you felt more sure of yourself and the piece.

The only thing you weren’t sure of was Din.

After rehearsal he had once again left quickly, and Kuiil had nodded at you as you followed Din out the door. He had already been halfway down the hallway when you stepped out.

A few hours later, you finished with PT and went looking for Adrian — he had promised you dinner (and a debrief) and you weren’t going to let him get out of it. You found him talking to Owen and pulled him away.

“Sorry! He promised to feed me and I’m starving.”

Owen laughed, waving you away. You tucked your arm through Adrian’s and dragged him towards the street.

“So,” he said, elbowing you. You elbowed him back. “How was it?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but weren’t sure where to start.

“Oh come on,” he said, when it took you too long to respond. You looked at him, confused. “I bet you haven’t even learned any choreo yet and you’re already in love with it.”

You rolled your eyes. “We talked about the piece and his vision for it.”

“Oooh, his vision,” Adrian teased you, and you laughed. “You’re so lucky getting to do this with, like, your favorite choreographer. It’s going to be so amazing, too, because I swear the two of you are on the same artistic wavelength. But what about your partner?”

You shrugged and you both stepped out onto the street and you smiled. “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. Come on, you have to feed me.”

He laughed and tugged you down the street.

…

The following week you had a shortened rehearsal with Kuiil, due to the start of the January mixed program in the next few days. But it only took a few minutes for your tentative hope and confidence about the whole thing to start to slip.

You turned, holding your position in attitude, and began to draw inwards, collapsing your body as Kuiil had asked. Before you could begin the extension of the next movement, though, the music stopped.

“Hold on,” Kuiil called. “Take a moment, both of you. Breathe.”

You stood up straight and closed your eyes. You took a deep breath, trying not to hear his words as sharp criticism.

It wasn’t going well.

The first movement of the piece was all about meeting someone new — someone with a different style, someone who moved in a different way. Unlike a classical pas de deux, it started with the variations, with solo moments on stage for each of you that played to each of your strengths. Then Kuiil had you meet each other for the first time. It emphasized your differences in ways that showcased your talents, but at the same time those strengths drew you apart. You were supposed to move past each other, to miss each other, but then somehow to catch each other’s attention anyway. By the end of the first, you were just starting to be pulled into each other’s orbit, intrigued but wary, unsure of the nature of the tiny connection you formed.

But you both seemed to be having trouble with the idea of being in the moment separately, yet still somehow together.

You knew you would start alone, dancing in turns, and wouldn’t even share the stage until a few minutes in. But rather than start with that solo choreography, Kuiil had started this first rehearsal with the choreography for the first few moments you were on stage together. You started up stage left with a turn into a full extension that became an arabesque en pointe. From there you ‘fell’ to the floor and rolled before standing and turning into a leap. Then a series of jumps and turns took you across the stage towards Din.

Din, on the other hand, started in the wings from stage right and burst into action. While you were moving slowly through your extension and arabesque, he came flying onto the stage in a double saut de basque en dedan. From there he twisted and turned until he was supposed to cross paths with you.

You’d only learned a few counts of 8, and yet somehow you could both tell it wasn’t working. Whatever you’d managed so far, it wasn’t what Kuiil had envisioned. It felt disjointed. And the more frustrated you felt, the more you knew it would show in your body. You could feel it, and you could definitely see Din’s frustration almost radiating off of him in waves.

After a moment, Kuiil called you over to where he was standing. “Even though we start this piece with the two of you emphasizing different styles, you are still talking to one another. From the first moment, when you meet, you are interacting, you are curious. You are not dancing separately, no matter how tentative, no matter how new or foreign or hesitant the connection might be. You affect each other from the moment you meet. Your bodies cannot lie on stage.”

He sighed, and you felt your shoulders tense.

“I want you both to practice until next week, and to think about how to form that connection.” He looked at Din, whose spine was so taut you wondered if it hurt. “But let us stop for now. I know you have your solo variations this weekend, Din, and you, my dear, have Jee’s piece. Go and focus on those things, and next week we will try again.”

You bit your lip and nodded. You opened your mouth to apologize, but he waved you both towards the door. “No, no, it is only the beginning. Do not worry, we will find it.”

You nodded. You needed to get out of this room, to get your mind ready for the next rehearsal. For the performance awaiting you over the weekend. As you stepped into the hall you heard Din begin to speak to Kuiil, but you walked quickly away. Eavesdropping definitely wasn’t going to help you clear your mind, this time.

...

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a/n: uh oh 👀 now what? some ballet terms:

Kuiil mentions that this pas won't be like a classical pas de deux -- as I mentioned last time, classical pas de deux have certain recognizable parts. This one is a bit more inventive.

attitude (derriere) - a position with one leg extended with the knee bent at a 90 degree angle, usually turned out. in this case reader is doing it to the back (derrière) and en pointe (on her toe shoes). here's a video!

extension - reader mentions the 'extension of the next movement' -- she's starting in attitude derrière, collapsing inwards, and then extending her leg back out into arabesque (next bullet), all en pointe.

arabesque en pointe - similar to an attitude but with the leg straight rather than bent. here's a very short video of basically the position reader is about to do.

leap - a leap is a broader term that can be used for a variety of jumps in ballet, but in this case reader is supposed to turn into a saut de chat -- a leap where the front leg does a developpe. (the video shows this well)

double saut de basque en dedans (~0:28) - Din enters the stage doing one of these. The video has a few different impressive jumps but this one is one of my favs, tbh. He's turning in the air twice with one foot touching the knee of the other leg, which is straight. 'En dedans' refers to the direction of the turn (towards the supporting leg, the one that stays straight). Here's Baryshnikov doing one.

counts of 8 - reader refers to learning a few counts of 8. In dance we count in 8s (what anyone musically inclined would think of as two 4/4 bars) and you often learn new choreography in 8s, or 8 beats. it's just the unit of measure everyone uses (which would obviously change if the time signature of the music was different). I've heard a lot of explanations for it (can tie more movements together, more room for choreography, easier to break down the moments between the beats) but honestly I don't know the historical reason. lol

music - Kuiil has chosen a piece with three movements. I actually have one in mind but I'm torn on sharing it because it's not like, 100% right, but mostly. I've choreographed a lot of this thing in my head. 😂

tag list coming in a reblog!

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian #pas de deux fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #nbt fic #x reader

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