#we agreed that we’re still calling each other partners and the goal of the break is to stay in a relationship with each other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silkling · 3 years ago

Note

I have the weird headcanon that TFRB Cody could adopt Lazerbeak brother, Buzzsaw. I haven't read a lot of TF comics so I don't know he's current status, still I always saw Cody as a typical animal owner, and I think it would be kind of cute too. Could you write some scenes of theme meeting and become friends

Come Home to Roost

Buzzsaw was tired. He was so, so tired. He missed Soundwave. He missed Laserbeak. Pit damn it, he also missed the those infernal twins and that Pit-spawned cat. They had been family for so long. Had been home. It had been them that he returned to every night to roost. It had been them that he had built his nest among. It had been them that he had come to call flock.

Now though…how could they be flock, when they had left him behind? Even his sister had left. He had thought Soundwave cared more than that. Apparently not, though. It had been a miracle that he’d made it off Centauri-12 after being abandoned. But he had, and he’d wandered the cosmos, stowing away on any ship he could find. He didn’t know what his goal was. To survive, he supposed. Find a new roost, though knowing how Primus had abandoned him thus far in his life, he doubted their “benevolent” Creator would have such kindness to direct towards him.

And perhaps he should not be surprised, really. He had been one of Soundwave’s most vicious Cassettes, after Ravage. But was that really something to be punished? He had had to be vicious. His sister had refused to be, and before Soundwave that meant he’d had to step up to keep her safe, to keep them both safe. Cybertron had not been kind to Cassettes, after all. Under Functionism, Cassettes had been viewed as little more than slaves, pets, property. He’d had to be vicious, then. It had been the only way they’d kept their lives, kept their freedom. After Soundwave, he’d had to continue to be vicious. Whereas Laserbeak had been the Host’s spy, Buzzsaw had been the attacker from above. Where Ravage had killed and torn from the ground, Buzzsaw had swooped in and brought death from the skies. After Soundwave, he’d been vicious because his new Host had needed him to be a protector still. And with Soundwave there had been Megatron, and he’d gone from protector to soldier.

Now though…now he wasn’t much of anything. Left behind on an uninhabited world that had drawn the War to it due to its energon mines, forgotten by the very one who had vowed to shelter and care for him, by his kin, by the family had come to call his own. He didn’t even feel them over the bond they’d shared anymore. They’d known he was alive when they’d left Centauri-12. He knew they had, the bond had told him as much. But they’d left anyway. And so he’d broken it. It had almost killed him. Cassettes were hard-coded for loyalty. It was part of their very core. To break the bond when he’d sworn his loyalty to Soundwave….it had made his spark burn with agony. But what other choice had he had? They’d left him behind, cast him aside, and left him with nothing.

He’d had to hitch a ride in the Autobot ship, which had left the planet later then his former allies. He’d been discovered when they’d landed again, and had had to flee. He’d continued like that, going from ship to ship, Neutral, Autobot, and even Decepticon, always fleeing when he was found. He’d even hidden away on the ships of organic species. It seemed his luck had finally run out, though. He’d been on the ship of a species called the Kaminoans, but after they’d found and attempted to capture him he’d been forced to flee into the vast expanse of space. It had almost killed him. He wasn’t space-faring. His armor couldn’t stand the pressure for long. Thankfully, his long-range sensors had detected a habitable planet in the nearest star system, and he’d fled as fast as his tired, starved frame could take him. The Kaminoans hadn’t given chase.

He remembered his first view of the planet. It was blue, with large green landmasses. Then he’d breached the atmosphere, and his systems hadn’t been able to handle the stress. He’d offlined, and come to surrounded by some sort of extremely salty liquid. He hadn’t been able to fly, and had had to go on foot, hoping to make his way to land. He didn’t want to rust on the floor of some massive salty pool of liquid. So he’d forced himself to move, and eventually he’d dragged himself onto some tiny, rocky shore. He’d only had the energy to cast out his sensors for one look around, enough to realize he had dragged himself onto some sort of island, and then his systems had dragged him into an emergency shutdown.

Blissfully, Buzzsaw knew no more.

——————————

When his systems pulled him from his forced recharge, Buzzsaw knew he was in trouble. His optics onlined with a dull glow, and his focused briefly on his HUD, taking in the messages flitting across it. After a moment, he chuffed and forced himself to stand. His self-repair had healed just enough damage to drag him from the edge of a stasis lock, but then the system had shut down in response to low energon. He was at 15% right now, which meant he had the rest of this orn to find fuel before his frame went into emergency stasis. After that..it would be too late for him.

The only way for a Cybertronian to be pulled out of emergency stasis was for another bot to fuel them enough that their systems kicked back online. Otherwise, the stasis would keep the bot in question under, only the bare essential systems running in order to keep the spark alight. Eventually, even those would give out, and the bot would die. Buzzsaw had heard claims that it was a peaceful way to go. That after entering stasis, you wouldn’t be aware of anything, which meant death was just like slipping under. You wouldn’t actually feel pain, wouldn’t feel your spark gutter.

Personally, Buzzsaw didn’t believe that. He thought dying like that was frightening. How could it not be? Feeling your systems fail and shut down, one by one, until you didn’t even have the strength to vent on your own. Your frame shutting down slowly, a klick at a time, until your awareness and consciousness was the last to go, but able to feel each and every one of your non-vital systems go offline. Your processor slipping under, your spark forced to still and shrink to conserve energy, your last thought either a prayer to be found or the grim knowledge you’d die where you lay.

No, Buzzsaw didn’t see the peace in a death like that. He looked around, taking in his surroundings, and then started walking. His wings were folded, and he made no attempt to fly. It would take too much of his energy. So he had to stay on the ground to conserve what precious little he had left. He only hoped he found an energon source. If he was extraordinarily lucky, this planet produced it. His best chances were at finding a underground mine. Liquid energon wells weren’t found anywhere but Cybertron. Other planets only produced the fuel in its crystalline form.

He hobbled along, and it wasn’t long before he was stumbling across a cave. He felt the faintest stirrings of hope as he hobbled in, sending out a faint ping of his sensors. Maybe he would find energon after all. Distracted as he was, he didn’t notice when the ground under him crumbled, and he fell into the deeper caverns below. He hit the ground hard, and his HUD threw up frantic damage warnings.

He dismissed them dispassionately, resignation settling in his spark. The fall had taken out his left leg, and his right wing was bent. He wouldn’t be able to move. This was it for him. He was going to slip into stasis lock and die here. As his systems started to shut down, he only had enough energy for one last action. Just before his consciousness was stolen away, he thought of the family he’d lost, and the life he would no longer be able to live.

Buzzsaw lifted his head and released a haunting cry, the caves all over the island echoing with his grief and regret. Then his optics went dark, and his helm fell to the dusty ground with a soft clang of metal on rock.

In the tunnels around him, his death knell echoed on.

——————————

Optimus shuttered his optics and tilted his head when the haunting cry floated from the tunnels leading out of the bunker. The Rescue Bots and their partners, who were also in the Lounge area, paused what they were doing and looked up. The Prime frowned, concerned. Young Cody was in the tunnels. Was he perhaps hurt?

“It must be a bird.” Graham said after a moment. “That’s what it sounds like, anyway. It might be lost in the tunnels and calling for its flock.”

That reassured Optimus. Now that he stopped to think, the cry HAD sounded more animal than human.

“Should we go help?” Boulder asked, clearly concerned.

“No.” Chief Burns said after a moment. “Let’s give it a bit. It might get out on it’s own. If it’s still crying like that in an hour, then we can help.”

“Got it, dad.” Graham agreed, and then he and his partner were returning to their previous task.

The other Bots and humans soon followed suit. Optimus was left staring at the tunnel entrance, lips twisted in a frown. Something was tugging at his processor. That call had definitely been animal in nature. But it had also sounded just faintly mechanical. His audials had barely even picked up on that aspect of the eerie wail, but he had heard it, he was certain of that.

The buzzing of the comm. system tore him from his thoughts. It was Cody.

“Uh, Dad? Guys?”

Chief Burns was answering in less than a minute. “We’re here, Cody. What is it? Do you need help?”

“No. Well, kind of. I don’t need help, but I found someone who might.”

Kade scoffed. “What, is a lost bird flying around in a panic? Just try and scare it back towards the entrance, it’ll be fine. We heard that call, I’m sure it was just calling for its friends.”

“Um, no.” Cody was blunt. “It’s not a bird. Not an Earth one, anyway.”

“Can you repeat that, son?”

“It’s not an Earth bird. I think it’s Cybertronian. And it looks like it’s hurt pretty bad.”

Optimus froze. A Cybertronian bird. That wasn’t possible. The only types of Cybertronian avians he knew of were Cassettes.

“Cody.” he cut in. “What color is it? Is it red and black?”

“No, Optimus. It’s black and…brown, I think? It’s really dirty. I can’t see what the other color is very clearly. It might not be brown.”

Not Laserbeak, then. But he didn’t know of any brown and black avian Cassette. Maybe one had escaped Cybertron on its own? It was extremely unlikely, but he supposed it wasn’t impossible. Cassettes were perfectly capable and intelligent.

“Oh, wait. I have a towel in my pack. I can see if I can clean some of the dirt.”

“Why do you have a towel in your bag?” Kade snarked. “You were just exploring the caves.”

“Sure, but I wanted to go to the beach right after. Hang on, I almost got it…” there was a pause. “There. It’s black and yellow. It’s still hard to tell because the grime is really caked in and the paint is old and fading, but I think the other color is yellow.”

Optimus froze. Black and yellow. But how? Buzzsaw had been lost on Centauri-12. Except…that wasn’t quite right either. He vaguely remembered a report that Jazz had found the Cassette stowing away on the Ark after the Autobots had left that planet, but that he’d been chased off before he could be captured when they’d been near a space docks. Had the little avian really survived on his own so long? It seemed almost ludicrous to even think it, yet he knew there was only one black and yellow Cybertronian bird who had left Cybertron.

“Hold on, Cody. I believe I may know who that is. Tell me, is he awake?”

“It’s a him? And no. I’m almost not sure if he’s even still…” Cody trailed off, but Optimus understood.

“I see. Stay where you are. I am coming now. And be wary. If I am correct, then that is Buzzsaw. He is a formidable foe, and if he wakes you must stay away from him.”

“Alright. I’ll be here.” the boy agreed, the the comm. cut off with a click.

“Wait, foe? Is this one of those Decepticons you mentioned, Optimus?” Chief Burns asked.

“He is indeed.” The Prime informed him.

“Then why should we help?” Kade asked. “If he’s one of the bad guys, shouldn’t we leave him there?”

“No.” Heatwave stood, crossing his arms. Glancing around, Optimus could see the same resolve the fire truck was showing in the rest of the Rescue Bots. “‘Con or not, we aren’t leaving him. We’re Rescue Bots, we save anyone who needs it, regardless of who they are. If you won’t help, we’ll do it on our own.”

“You are correct, Heatwave. It would be wrong to leave Buzzsaw to perish.” Optimus agreed. He looked down at the humans. “If he is truly as injured as Cody says, then he will be of little threat. So long as you are wary, he will likely be unable to cause you harm.”

“Are you certain, Optimus?” Chase asked.

“Yes. Buzzsaw is a Cassette. He is far smaller than any of you. He is also very young. I believe that he is the equivalent of a human teenager, if my memory is not mistaken.” The Prime soothed.

That was clearly the key to convince the Chief. “Go.” the human said. “If we can help, we will. It wouldn’t be right to leave him there.”

Optimus nodded, and then folded down into his alt-mode and drove. He had not told the humans, but he was certain that the call they had heard earlier had in fact been Buzzsaw himself. He had not wanted to mention it, to avoid distressing the others too much. But he was certain of it now.

That haunting cry hadn’t been a call for help, it had been a death song.

——————————

Optimus pulled up alongside Cody, shifting to root mood as his optics found the still form lying limp on the ground. Primus, it really was Buzzsaw. He crouched down, one large hand slipping under the too-light form of the downed Cassette. This wasn’t right. Cassettes were smaller and not as heavily armored as a normal mech, but the avian shouldn’t be this light. Looking at him now, the Prime was starting to realize that Buzzsaw had likely been on his own and in a state of gradual starvation ever since Centauri-12.

“Optimus? Is he going to be okay?” It was Cody, and the boy was frowning up at him.

He hesitated, then folded into his alt-mode, carefully ensuring that Buzzsaw ended up in his cab. He opened his door, letting the human climb in, and then he was driving back to the bunker. He was silent for a lone moment before he finally spoke.

“I will not lie, Cody Burns. Buzzsaw’s status is…not promising.” he said after a moment.

There was silence as he drove, and then-

“You said he was a foe. Does that mean he’s a Decepticon?”

“Yes.” He answered simply.

There was more silence.

“Optimus?”

“Yes?”

“Why did the Decepticons start the War?”

Optimus was silent for a long moment. The boy truly was perceptive. But how could he answer that?

“Cybertron…was not kind to all its children.” he said after a long moment. “There were many policies in place that kept those of high status in power, and left those of lower social classes struggling.” There. That should be a simple enough explanation.

“And the Decepticons were those lower class bots?”

“Many of them, yes.” Optimus paused. “You must understand, Cody. Cybertron was not the utopia some of my Autobots may believe it was. There were many who suffered greatly. However, while the Decepticons may have risen from a just cause, that does not justify the depths they have since fallen to.”

Cody hummed. “I get it.” he said softly.

Optimus relaxed. Good. He didn’t want to lie to Cody, but he didn’t want to boy to think that the Decepticons were harmless. He feared that if that were the case, the young human may do something foolish in the future. No, it was better he understood the War for what it was.

“Optimus?”

“Yes?”

“What’s going to happen to Buzzsaw?”

Ah. “I…do not know. If he is able to recover, I cannot allow him to go free. It would cause immense trouble for my team and my Autobots if he were to rejoin his Master.” he sighed.

“Master?”

“Buzzsaw is a Cassette. They do not often live their lives independently.”

“Why?”

“…perhaps that is a detail best explained with all the others.”

“Okay.” Cody tilted his head. “So you can’t let him go. Can you take him with you?”

Optimus winced. “That would not be wise. I am afraid my team would not understand. I am all too willing to give Buzzsaw a chance, but if I were to bring him to my base I fear the others would argue in favor of his…deactivation.”

“Deactivation.” A pause. “You mean they’d want to kill him.” he whispered.

“The Decepticons have caused my mechs a great deal of pain, Cody.” Optimus said softly. “They would not do it to be cruel, but I know there would be more than one among them who would believe such action justified. An eye for an eye, as the earth saying goes.”

“It doesn’t make it right.”

“No.” Optimus agreed. “But it is War, and those who suffer the effects of it long enough do not enough grasp right from wrong any longer, only what hurts have been inflicted and how best to return them.”

“It’s a cycle.” Cody said sadly.

“A cruel, bitter one.”

Optimus could see the light of the bunker up ahead. He drove towards it in silence, spark heavy.

“Optimus?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think…Buzzsaw could stay here? On Griffin Rock, I mean. Maybe I could help him. The team too. He looks like he’s been on his own a long time. At least, I think he has been. If he has a “Master” like you said, I don’t think they’d let him get this bad off.” There was a pause. “Maybe he’s tired enough to not want to go back to the War? It’s worth a try, right? I want to help him.”

And Optimus, for the first time since he realized who the downed Cybertronian was, felt the faintest stirrings of hope.

——————————

Buzzsaw was resting. Blades had prepared a large crate on which to treat the injured Cassette, and as soon as Optimus had released the avian the small copter bot was scanning him and bustling around to repair him. He’d gotten an energon line started already, and currently his digits were transformed into the medical tools he needed to repair the damage to the Cassette’s internals and armor. As Blades worked, Optimus shared everything he had told Cody in the tunnel with the others.

“So he can’t go with you because your team might kill him, and you can’t let him go because he’d go back to his Master and cause trouble for your team.” Heatwave sighed. “I suppose that means his Host is here on Earth?”

“Soundwave is here, yes.” Optimus hummed. “He is Megatron’s Third in Command and Chief Communications Officer.”

“Ah, yes. I can see how that would cause issues if such a mech were to regain access to his Cassette.” Chase said.

“Cassette.” Cody said slowly. “You called him that in the tunnel too. It’s important. Why?”

Optimus hummed. “First, you must understand that Cybertronians are divided by our frame-types. There are flight frames, and among them you have Helios, Jets, Shuttles, and Seekers. Among the ground frames, there are cars, two-wheelers, trucks, and even more. There are even aquatic frames, though they are few and far between. Beyond them, you have triple-changers, bots who naturally have two alt-forms rather than one. There are also those with non-vehicular alt-modes. And finally, you also have mini-bots, and alongside them there are Cassettes.”

The humans were staring, focused intently on the overly simplified lesson. The Rescue Bots didn’t pay it much mind, however.

“Among all those frame-types, barring Cassettes, it was not uncommon on for some bots to have additional abilities on top of the normal abilities granted to them by their frames. Host mech are one such example. They can be any frame-type, but they are set apart because of their ability to bind their sparks to those of Cassettes in order to form a symbiotic bond.”

Cody blinked. “What do they each get out of the bond?”

“The Cassettes gain protection. Cassettes were…not a well-regarded class. They were found on the streets or in the wilds, and often forced to struggle for their very survival. Most Cybertronians viewed them as simple-minded or feral. They were not thought of as having much intelligence, or even sentience.” Optimus forced himself to continue at the disturbed looks the humans wore. “So for Cassettes, a bond with a Host was a chance at safety. They relinquished their freedom to their Host, and in return they would be given fuel, shelter, care, and above all else, safety. In return, the Hosts received the obedience of their Cassettes, and the Cassettes would help them with any task, function, or job they required.”

Cody was sitting next to Buzzsaw, and the Prime saw him extend a hand to lay it on the avian’s head. “That…that doesn’t sound very fair, Optimus.”

“Perhaps.” he agreed. “But most Hosts treated their Cassettes well and were very fond of them. Such a bond was necessary for many. Cassettes get their name because they do not have an alt-mode capable of movement. Their alt-mode is always a cassette tape or something else very similar. When the bond is formed, a Cassette gains the ability to dock within the armor of their Host while they are in their alt-mode. It is an added degree of safety.”

Chief Burns hummed. “I think I get it. The important bits, anyway. The cultural stuff…” He trailed off. “That I have a harder time wrapping my head around, but I get why our guest being a Cassette matters.”

“Oh?” Optimus had little doubt he did. The Chief was an intelligent man.

“He’s going to want to return to his Host. Because Soundwave is synonymous with safety for him, right?”

“That is likely.” Optimus agreed.

“But you said Hosts usually care a lot about their Cassettes. If that’s true, how did Buzzsaw get like this?” Cody cut in.

The Prime tilted his head. “The last reports of Buzzsaw’s location are many years old. He was last seen on an uninhabited planet that briefly became a battlefield for the War. The Decepticons fled, and the last reports on Buzzsaw are from after Megatron took his army off Centauri-12. It is likely the damage he sustained is a result of him being on his own.”

“So he might have been abandoned?”

“That…seems the most likely scenario, yes. Though Soundwave’s fondness for his Cassettes has always been well known, so I am at a loss as to why he would be left behind thus.”

“Does it matter why?” Cody asked.

“What are you thinking, little brother?” Dani sounded amused.

“If Soundwave abandoned Buzzsaw when he was supposed to be caring for him, then would Buzzsaw really want to go back?”

Optimus reset his optics, startled. “I…had not considered that.” he said after a moment. “I do not know. That is something you will have to ask him yourself.”

Cody perked up. “So you think he would benefit from staying, then?”

Optimus turned to Chief Burns. “If your father agrees, then yes, I do believe so. I have seen the effect you have on bots, young Cody. I believe you can soften even the hardest of sparks. If you are willing to put forth the effort, then there is a chance that you maybe able to help Buzzsaw.”

Chief Burns crossed his arms. “Will he be dangerous in any way?”

Optimus turned to the copter bot still treating the avian. “Blades. Can you disable his weapons systems and battle protocols?”

“Already did.” The young bot sounded distracted. “I disconnected his turbines and anti-gravs too, so he won’t be able to fly. Though I don’t recommend keeping that second part a thing for long. He’s a avian, he needs flight as much as any other flyer.”

Optimus nodded, then turned back to the oldest human. “With those measures in place, I believe that he will be a minimal threat. If he turns out to be a greater risk than you are willing to take, you can always call me.”

Chief Burns considered it, then nodded. “Alright. He can stay. It’s only right to give him the chance.”

Kade frowned. “Is that really so smart? Optimus said it himself! He’s one of the bad guys!”

“But how much choice did he have, if he fought the War his Host joined?” Graham asked.

“Does it matter? The ‘Cons still hurt people!”

“Our War is not so black and white, Kade Burns.” Optimus warned.

“So some political policies and social perceptions sucked! That’s bad, but is it really a reason to start a war?” Kade demanded.

“The Senate used ritual disfigurement as a punishment.” Blades’s voice carried over, sounding distracted.

All heads snapped to him. Kade gaped, and the other humans looked horrified. Privately, Optimus winced. Perhaps that wasn’t the nicest detail to share, but it was too late now.

“What?” Kade sputtered.

“The Senate were the political rulers of Cybertron. They controlled pretty much everything.” Blades mumbled, still focused mostly on Buzzsaw. “When a bot went against them, even in a minor way, they’d use punishment called empurata that involved surgically removing the bot’s face and hands and replacing them with one large optic and a pair of claws.”

Kade swallowed. “Okay. So it was really, really bad. I guess I was wrong.” he said, sounding too sick to care that he’d just admitted to being wrong.

The other humans also looked horrified. Cody looked like his entire worldview had been shaken.

“Cybertron was not kind to all its children, before the War.” Optimus said quietly. “The Decepticons were more than justified in rising up to fight for their freedom. But they took things too far, and now their original cause has long been lost.”

Chief Burns was the first to recover. “That’s often the case, with wars.”

Optimus nodded solemnly.

“We’ll take care of Buzzsaw.” Cody’s voice carried over. Despite how horrified he’d seemed earlier, now he just looked determined. “We’ll show him there’s good in the world. Maybe he doesn’t want to fight anymore. I want to help him.”

The Prime smiled, them dipped his helm. “And so you shall.” he agreed. “When he wakes, tell him that I am leaving him here. I recommend you tell him that Soundwave is on this planet. If you withhold the information, and manage to befriend him, then he may feel betrayed if he learns you hid the fact from him and return to Soundwave on his own.” he warned.

Cody nodded. “I’ll tell him.”

Optimus hummed. “We cannot set him free at this moment. But if you feel it is right, you may also tell him that his other option is that he will remain a prisoner in the Autobot base, but that in that scenario I will have difficulty guaranteeing his safety.” he warned.

Cody tilted his chin up, clearly displeased. “That won’t happen.”

The large bot chuckled. “I hope you are right, Cody Burns.” he nodded at the other humans, flaring his field in a good-bye to the Rescue Bots, and then he was folding into his alt-mode and driving out through the tunnels. He’d get the mainland and call for a ground bridge from there.

He truly hoped Buzzsaw could find happiness. Primus knew the Cassette had earned it.

——————————

Awareness came to him slowly. At first, Buzzsaw was confused. He was fairly certain he’d slipped into emergency stasis. He hadn’t onlined his optics yet, but the messages blinking across his HUD didn’t help his confusion.

Fuel Level: 37%

Warning: Low energon

Movement not recommended

Energy Level: 12%

Warning: Energy rerouted to essential systems

Cause of Energy Drain: Starvation and damage

Recovery time necessary

Internal Communication System: Disabled

Sensor Array: Offline

External Spacial Sensors: Online

Transformation Cog: Offline

Weapons Systems: Disabled

Battle Protocols: Disabled

Self-Repair: Online

Fuel System: Online

Wing Turbines: Disabled

Anti-Gravs: Disabled

Warning: Unknown medical access to internal systems detected

Warning: Unauthorized medical access to combat systems and flight capabilities detected

Self Diagnostic Report: Severe damage and starvation

Low Fuel: Addressed

Armor Integrity: 49%

Fuel Pump: Functional

Fuel Tanks: Shrunken, functional

Intake: Minor rust detected, addressed

Fuel Lines: Damaged, patched

Wires: Damaged, patched

Conclusion: Frame in need of full recovery

Rest recommended

Strenuous activity not recommended

Warning: Presence of unknown Cybertronian and unknown organic life forms detected in proximity.

Well. That last warning certainly warranted some degree of alarm. Red optics snapped online and the avian lifted his helm. His gaze immediately found the aforementioned Cybertronian. It was a small orange and white copter bot, and immediately clear was the Autobot insignia on his chest. For a moment, Buzzsaw tense, his vocalizer releasing a sound halfway between a screech and a growl. He made to stand, to fight off the perceived threat, when the bot pressed him down with a hand between his wings.

“Easy, easy. You’re okay.” He soothed. “My name is Blades, of Rescue Team Sigma-17. You’re on a planet called Earth. My team and I just want to help you.”

His words made Buzzsaw pause and take another look. Huh. That was right. The badge on his chest wasn’t the Autobrand after all. But how? He was fairly certain that Megatron had destroyed the Rescue Force and killed all its Teams. How had this lone team survived? He cocked his head sharply, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“You’re Buzzsaw, right? Optimus Prime was here earlier. He told us about you.”

Well. There went his hopes of his Decepticon status going unknown. And the Prime was here, on this planet? That meant Megatron was doubtless here as well. But who else was?

Blades shifted under his gaze, then sighed. “Just stay still, okay? I patched up what I could. Now your self-repair needs to handle the rest. You need to rest if you want to recover.” He made to leave, then paused. “Also, Optimus told us to tell you your options. You’re on an island called Griffin Rock. You can stay here and stay out of the War, or he can return and keep you prisoner in his base. He said if you go with the second option he’d have a difficult time guaranteeing your safety.” Buzzsaw could see that the small mech was clearly uncomfortable with that last series of statements. He didn’t seem fond of the idea of violence or what amounted to keeping someone against their will.

After another beat, the bot nodded at someone else in the room. Buzzsaw snapped his helm in that direction and saw a small organic. He heard Blades leave, and then the organic was looking up at him. The small creature beamed, and them he was climbing up onto the crate that the avian found himself confined to.

“Hi! I’m the one who found you. My name is Cody.”

Buzzsaw stared, optics narrowed.

“I’m sorry about your choices here, I know they aren’t the best. Optimus doesn’t want you going back to Soundwave though.”

That made him freeze and perk up. Soundwave was on this planet too? A part of him was excited and wanted to seek out his Host. He remembered the kindness, the affection, the gentle treatment. He remembered the safety and security that had come from being bound to the spymaster.

He also remembered the abandonment. Remembered the years of fear and pain and hunger that had followed. Remembered the loss and betrayal, the desperation that his Host would return only to be forced to come to terms with the fact he’d been cast aside.

Buzzsaw clacked his beak, then looked away and forced down the sad coo that wanted to escape him. He felt something on his armor, and looked over to see the organic–Cody–pressing a small, soft hand to the plating of his neck.

“He left you, didn’t he? Optimus told us a little bit about Hosts and Cassettes, and about Centauri-12. You got like this because your Host left you.”

Buzzsaw stared, not knowing how to respond. A part of him, the part that was vicious and angry, wanted to rip off the organic’s limb. The larger part of him was just tired, though. After a long moment of staring, the avian sagged, optics dimming. What was the harm in telling this organic anyway? It wasn’t like he was really a Decepticon anymore. Not really. It also wasn’t like Cody would be able to cause him much harm, anyway.

He nodded, his beak clacking and his wings rustling as he let out a gust of air from his vents. That hand hadn’t left his neck, and it moved to stroke up and down the plating.

“I’m sorry.” Cody said softly. “No one deserves to be abandoned by their family.”

Buzzsaw stared for a moment. The organic had said they’d only been told a little bit about Hosts and Cassettes, yet it seemed he already understood the bond was fairly deep. Either he’d been told more than he let on, or he was just very perceptive. Either way, a part of Buzzsaw couldn’t help but be grateful for the understanding.

He knew he should be lashing out and trying to fight. But what was the point? His weapons systems and battle protocols were disabled, he couldn’t fly, he couldn’t walk, and his fuel levels were too low for him to have the energy to do anything significant. Even without all that, he was just tired of fighting. True, he’d always enjoyed a good, honest fight, but he’d only ever used his more excessive forms of violence because that was what had been demanded of him. He’d had to be violent to survive the wilds before Soundwave, and after he’d had to be violent to fight for his new Host. But he hadn’t wanted life as a fighter, as a soldier. And now, confronted with everything he’d learned, and the last few years of his abandonment…he was tired. He didn’t want to fight this organic. He just wanted rest. He could figure out everything else later.

Besides, the gentle contact didn’t feel so bad. It wasn’t heavy enough to hurt, and it was more reminiscent of the preening he’d used to do with his sister. His optics dimmed, and he let his head come to lay on the crate. Cody didn’t seem offended at his lack of responsiveness. Instead, he felt that small hand move up to stroke over the top of his helm.

“Get some rest, Buzzsaw. I’ll be here when you wake up. I want to help you get better.” the small organic murmured.

Buzzsaw didn’t know what to do with that sentiment. A part of him scoffed at the weakness of it. The other part was too tired and beaten down to care. He released another heavy vent of air, and let his optics slip offline. Moments later, he was slipping into recharge, even the brief moment of consciousness having drained what little energy he had.

——————————

Cody was indeed there when he woke up. It was only for a few moments though, because then the organic had to go to school. Apparently, this planet also has educational institutions. Buzzsaw didn’t have much of an opinion on that. While he was gone, the rest of the Rescue Bots introduced themselves, as did their own organic partners, and he was informed that the organics were called “humans”. Again, Buzzsaw didn’t particularly care. It was useful information, he supposed.

The others left him to himself throughout the day, except for the brief moment when Blades came to remove the energon line feeding fuel into his frame and replace it with a small cube of energon that was set in front of him. After that, he was left alone. Perhaps they sensed his mood, perhaps they were busy, perhaps they didn’t want to talk to him. He didn’t particularly care. It did give him time to think on his situation, though. Obviously, they wouldn’t let him go free. Even if he did promise to not return to Soundwave, he knew he would have difficulty hiding here. Since, apparently, it was very important that the human race didn’t learn about the Cybertronian presence on their planet. One would think they’d have figured it out when the alien war came to earth, but he wouldn’t question it. Still, it meant he couldn’t just be let loose on his own.

He also refused to be an Autobot prisoner. As for returning to his Host…he was torn. A part of him wanted to. But the larger part of him was still hurt. And after his distance from the Decepticons…he wasn’t sure he wanted to return to the faction itself. Pits, he didn’t even have his brand anymore. He’d come across a Neutral medic sometime after Centauri-12, and he’d offered up his services to locate energon in return for the medic’s services to remove the brand. It had been a thin sheet of metal painted purple and welded to his chest, so it had required the aid of a medic to remove without damaging his armor. But it had been done, and then they’d gone their separate ways. He hadn’t worn the Decepticon badge in years.

So where did that leave him? He couldn’t escape in his state, but even when he recovered, what then? What was there for him on this little island? What was there for him on this planet itself? Would it be worth staying?

He must have drifted into recharge at some point, because he was startled awake by Cody’s loud greeting to the others. He jerked, optics flashing on as he lifted his helm. The human blinked when he came around the corner, then smiled.

“Buzzsaw! You’re up!” he called out. He walked over, pulling himself up onto the crate beside the avian. “So, I had an idea! Blades told me you don’t have to be hooked up to anything anymore, and I noticed how your armor seems pretty dirty, so I was wondering if you’d like to get clean?”

Buzzsaw blinked at him. The human gestured to the corner, and he looked over to see a large tub and a bucket that hadn’t been there before. There were rags in the bucket.

“Boulder offered to help. I figured you might feel better if you can get the grime off?” He offered.

He stared for a moment, and then he dipped his head in a nod.

Cody grinned. “Great! I’ll get Boulder. I have to change clothes really quick.”

Buzzsaw cocked his head sharply at that. Clothes?

Cody interpreted the curious gesture for what it was. “Clothes are what humans wear!” he plucked at the colorful things clinging to his frame. “We don’t have metal armor like you guys, and we don’t need it, but we wear clothes to cover ourselves because it’s not considered decent to go without them.” He tapped his chin. “Chase once told me it would be like if a Cybertronian went around without any armor at all.”

Buzzsaw jerked his head back, optics shuttering. Ah. That, he understood. So human had their own version of a protoform underneath their clothing. He did not want to see a fully bare fleshy protoform, thank you very much. He lowered his helm, bumping his beak into Cody’s back to encourage him to go. The boy laughed, then jumped off the crate and trotted away.

A moment later, Boulder came around and smiled at him. “Hey, Buzzsaw. Cody said you accepted our offer to help you clean?” He nodded at the tub. “Is it okay if I carry you there? You shouldn’t be putting weight on your leg.”

Buzzsaw grumbled, but after a moment he nodded. He didn’t exactly want to be carried like a helpless sparkling, but he couldn’t get there on his own. Not in his state. Boulder paid no mind to his grumbles, and instead stepped forward to slip a large hand underneath his frame. The avian was lifted up, then carefully cradled in gentle hands. He was brought to the tub, then lowered into the liquid that filled it. He cooed in pleasure upon realizing it was warm, frame relaxing every so slightly.

Cody chose that moment to return, his lower half covered in something very colorful and the rest of his form bare. He climbed into the tub with Buzzsaw, then dragged the bucket in after himself. On the outside of the tub, Boulder grabbed a larger rag and dipped it into the liquid in the tub.

“Is the water okay? Not too hot?” Cody asked.

Oh, right. This was water. He recognized it now. Other planets had it too. He nodded, watching the Rescue Bot soak the rag in the warm water and hold it out towards him.

“Boulder is going to take care of your armor, and I thought I’d use my smaller size to get in between everything and get all the dust and muck out from your armor seams?” Cody suggested.

Buzzsaw stared for a long moment. That was…rather intimate. But he also hadn’t been able to have such an in depth cleaning since before Centauri-12. He could feel the dirt and grim in between and underneath his armor plates. Even if he didn’t trust these people, he did trust they wouldn’t hurt him. They’d have done so already if they were going to hurt him at all. He could bear some rather intimate grooming if it meant getting clean. He nodded.

Cody beamed, and then Buzzsaw felt the gentle pressure of Boulder wiping off the surface of his armor. While the bot worked at that, Cody chose a rag from the bucket that Buzzsaw now saw was full of cleaning cloths and brushes. The human soaked it in the water, then lifted it and started wiping it along the edges of his armor plates. The avian let himself relax into the warmth of the water, optics slipping offline. He didn’t know what to make of his situation, and he wasn’t sure he liked being forced to stay, but for now he’d enjoy the moment of comfort.

He didn’t realize when he slipped into a state of half-recharge. He was barely aware as the bath finished, and then Boulder transferred him to a large towel which was used to dry him off. Cody went to get blankets while Boulder did so, using the soft fabrics to make a comfier “nest” on the crate that Buzzsaw was returned to a moment later. The avian cooed as he was set into the soft nest, optics offlining fully as he rested his head in the fabrics.

Clean, warm, and comfortable for the first time in years, it didn’t take him long to slip into the most peaceful rest he’d had since he’d lost his flock.

——————————

A few days passed in much the same pattern. Cody would go to school, Buzzsaw would be left alone, and then the boy would return and spend the rest of the day talking with him. The avian never responded, content to listen and learn all he could about this world and the species that dominated it. Things fell into a routine, and he came to be comfortable in it. He even stopped minding the way Cody would touch him and stroke his plating as he talked.

And then the routine changed. Cody came to him after school one day and told him he wanted to have a “movie night”. Apparently, he believed that showing Buzzsaw human entertainment would be a good way for the Cassette to learn about human culture. The avian made no protest. Cody talked to him for the afternoon, then went to have his nightly meal with his family. After that though, he returned for the “movie night”, enlisting the aid of Boulder to move Buzzsaw’s crate in front of a large vid screen.

Cody then joined him on top of the crate, settling into the nest of blankets and wrapping himself in one of his own. He was dressed in clothing that he informed Buzzsaw was called “pajamas”. Then, the movie started and the avian let himself be distracted story unfolding on the screen.

The movie was about two humans under a curse, one who turned into a creature called a wolf by the day and the other who turned into a hawk by night. It was a fairly simple story, and while Buzzsaw certainly found some of the attitudes of the characters to be irritatingly soft he could understand the appeal. He might even say he enjoyed the movie. It was fun. Maybe human entertainment wasn’t as bad as he thought.

And then Cody put on a movie that he said was “animated”, and Buzzsaw was very quickly insulted. The movie was about living cars, except they had no other form to transform into. The main character was a cocky, irritating fool, the tow-truck was the most annoying creature he’d ever been forced to watch, and the mentor was a smug, pompous aft. Buzzsaw hated every character in the movie. If that wasn’t enough, even the setting was insulting.

“What the frag.” he hissed. “How is this garbage supposed to be entertaining? There’s no way those insufferable creatures would have successfully built a civilization. They lack any appendages that would allow them to hold, build, or invent anything. Temporary gripping attachments don’t count, those lack dexterity. Primus, those things would have all died out within the first few generations of their species existence. They certainly should have.”

The movie was paused, and Buzzsaw turned his help to Cody to find the reason. He saw the human grinning brightly, looking thrilled. His plating bristled, and he narrowed his optics.

“What.” he snapped.

“You finally talked.” Cody was beaming.

Buzzsaw shuttered his optics, tilting his helm. Ah. So he had. “Did you think I couldn’t?” he demanded.

“No.” Cody shook his head, smiling. “I knew you could. I didn’t want to push to make you talk to me before you were ready though.”

The avian paused, staring uncomprehendingly. That meant that Cody hadn’t actually thought of him as a simple minded beast. He’d known Buzzsaw was more than that. And he hadn’t tried to force his will on him to make him speak before he wanted to. He had been content to wait. Seemingly as long as he needed to, if Buzzsaw understood the subtext of this conversation correctly.

“Why?” he asked wearily.

“You deserve to be treated with respect.” Cody said seriously. “Just because you look like a bird and don’t have a vehicle mode doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of being treated like an individual with your own thoughts and feelings. It would have been wrong to push my own wants on you. I want to help you get better. That means going at your pace.”

Buzzsaw twitched. “Many Cybertronians would not agree with you. They would argue I am little more than a beast and thus deserve to be treated as one.” he paused. “My pace?”

“Then it’s a good thing we aren’t on Cybertron, isn’t it?” Cody pointed out. “And yeah. Your pace. I want to help you recover from the things you’ve experienced and discover your own path, discover the things you want to do and the life you want to live. But I know that sort of recovery won’t be immediate, and it may not even be as fast as I want it to be. But that doesn’t matter, because it’s your recovery, not mine. So we go at your pace.”

Buzzsaw stared at the organic for a long moment. “…I don’t understand you.” he said.

Cody smiled. “That’s alright. As long as you understand I want to help.”

He stared for a beat longer, then grumbled and turned back to the movie. He needed to process this. Cody seemed to understand he was done talking, because the infernal movie started up again. Buzzsaw wasn’t paying attention, though. Instead, he was lost in thought, turning over the things he’d learned.

He didn’t notice as the movie ended, and another one started. He did feel it, however, when halfway through the next move is a slight weight settled against his side. He looked down to see Cody had fallen into his own recharge and had slumped against Buzzsaw’s side in the process. The avian didn’t move to wake him. He stared at the slumbering human for a long beat, then heaved a sigh and lowered his helm to rest it on the lip of his makeshift nest. He refocused his optics on the bid screen, paying half attention to the new movie playing. It was something about singing cats. Buzzsaw wouldn’t pretend to understand.

He relaxed, Cody’s warmth curled against his side, and his optics dimming slowly as recharge crept up on him. By the time the movie ended, it had claimed him completely, and he and his odd little companion both slept on peacefully as the credits rolled.

Neither of them woke as Chief Burns came down to retrieve Cody. He paused when he saw the scene, and he turned off the TV, dimmed the lights, and left the sleeping pair to their rest.

As Buzzsaw slept on, his hardened spark cracked just a little. Maybe there was hope for him after all.

——————————

Buzzsaw was watching Cody. He did that a lot as of late. The little human still talked to him a lot, though the avian didn’t always talk back. Most of the time he was content to listen. In the past few days, he’d learned a lot about the odd little organic. In that time, his legs had also fully healed, and his nest had been moved to the floor and tucked into a corner of the bunker so he could maneuver on his own. His wing was still injured, but even if it wasn’t his turbines and anti-gravs were still disabled.

Right now, Cody was quiet. The boy was sitting on a box a bit away from his nest, working one something he’d called “homework”. Judging by the frustrated expression he wore, he was having some degree of difficulty. His curiosity piqued, Buzzsaw stood and stepped out of his nest, walking over to see what the human was working on. He sidled up behind him, tilting his helm to peer over his shoulder.

Oh. It was math. Buzzsaw could work with this.

“You’re missing a two.” he grunted.

Cody paused. “What?” he asked, turning to look at the again standing over him.

“You’re missing a two.” he repeated. “In the third problem. You’re missing a two. That’s why the first part of your answer isn’t matching up with the second.”

Cody blinked, then turned back and looked over his work. He made a noise of triumph, perking up and correcting his work. Then he returned his attention to the Cassette.

“Thanks, Buzzsaw!”

He only grunted, helm cocking sharply.

Cody smiled, used to his non-verbal communication by now.

“So you know some math?” he asked.

“Sure.” he Buzzsaw grunted, folding his legs and settling down. “Laserbeak and I never received a formal education; Cassettes weren’t allowed to. But Soundwave taught us some things after he bound us to him. He wanted us to have a greater knowledge of a variety of fields.”

“Laserbeak? Is that another Cassette?”

“Yes.” Buzzsaw paused, his optics dimming. “My sister. My twin, actually.”

Cody sat up, eyes wide. “You guys can have siblings?”

“Yes. It’s a rare occurrence, but it happens. Though Soundwave did have another set of Cassette twins besides us, too.”

The human stared, then seemed to realize something. “She’s…gone, isn’t she?”

“No.” he huffed. “If she was, I would have felt her loss in my spark. But she left me when Soundwave did. I cannot entirely blame her. If he told her to leave, she would have had to obey. Still, it does sting.” Buzzsaw admitted, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

“I’m sorry.”

And Buzzsaw didn’t understand, but the human did seem genuinely upset on his behalf. He sighed, shaking his helm to get rid of the memories.

“It’s whatever.” he grunted. “It happened. I can’t change it. Gotta live with it.”

“You miss her.”

Buzzsaw froze, his optics snapping on to the human. He stared, then couldn’t stop himself from slumping. “I so. I miss all of them. Primus help me, but I really do miss them.” he hissed, hating himself for it.

Cody put a hand on his chest. “I’m sorry they left you. You didn’t deserve it.”

He went still, then jerked his gaze away and focused on the paper. “Yeah. I suppose. But you have work to finish, don’t you? I can help.”

He seemed to understand that the avian was done with that topic of conversation, because the human dropped his hand and nodded, returning his own attention to the paper. “Sure. Thanks!”

Buzzsaw scoffed. “Don’t thank me yet. Now, let me see those problems. Tell me how you think you need to solve them, I’ll say something if your approach needs an adjustment.”

——————————

Buzzsaw was alone when he woke up. That struck him as odd, especially since his chronometer cheerfully blinked up on his HUD to inform him that it was only midday. He’d checked twice. He dismissed the notice with a grumble, hopping out of his nest and wandering around the bunker. His wings were folded away, the damaged one finally having fully healed the day before. It was a relief to be able to relax it fully now.

He looked around, sending out a ping of his sensors, and picked up the signals of the Rescue Bots above him. He walked over to the large pad they used as an elevator, tapping the console with his beak and letting the platform lift him up. As soon as it stopped, he was walking out of the open doors of the building he’d been informed was called a “firehouse”. He picked up on some unidentifiable noises, following them to what ended up being a court for some sort of ball game. The Burns family and the Rescue Bots were all playing. After a moment of observation, Buzzsaw realized the objective of the game was to get the small ball into the small hoop that the opposite team was guarding. It reminded him just a little bit of Cube.

He made his way over to where a bench was sitting to the side of the court, hopping up onto it. It was just low enough he could manage that much without his wings. Then he turned his attention back to the game, watching curiously as the ball was tossed around. After a few minutes, a stray toss sent it in his direction. Buzzsaw tilted his helm up, catching the ball on the tip of his beak and bouncing it once, then he tipped his head, letting it roll to the top of his beak before he tossed his head to send the ball back towards the others.

Blades caught it, smiling when he saw the avian. “Good morning, Buzzsaw.” He greeted.

The Cassette nodded, turning his attention to Cody as the boy padded up to him.

“You’re awake!” he smiled. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon from your nap.”

“It’s fine.” Buzzsaw dismissed. “What are you playing?”

“Burns Ball! It’s version of a popular earth game we adapted for our own rules!” Cody said brightly. “Do you want to play a game?”

“My legs aren’t as efficient as all of yours and I can’t use my talons to grip when I’m on them.” he answered dryly.

Cody frowned, considering. “What if you could fly?”

“Is that really a good idea?” Kade interrupted.

Cody shrugged, then turned back to the avian. “Are you going to leave if we give you back your flight?”

“Where would I go?” Buzzsaw scoffed. “I refuse to return to the Decepticons, and I’d sooner eat my own thrusters than join the Autobots.”

Cody blinked, then beamed. It as clear he understood what Buzzsaw was really saying. It made him want to groan. He was getting soft. When had he gotten so easy to read? And by a tiny organic, no less.

“You won’t leave.” he translated. Then he turned to Blades. “Can you do it?” he asked hopefully.

Blades hummed, already walking over. “Are you sure?

“I’m sure.” Cody confirmed.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Buzzsaw offered in a low drawl. “Cody wanted to fix me, so now he’s stuck with me.”

Blades and Cody both giggled, but then copter bot got to work. The Cassette didn’t move as his turbines and anti-gravs were reconnected with his main flight system, and then Blades was stepping back.

Buzzsaw stood, wings spreading fully. He crouched, then leapt up and activated his turbines. They roared to life, his anti-gravs clicking on, and he let out a victorious shriek as he flew in a wide circle around the ball court. After another few circles and dives, he glided down to land next to Cody.

“So.” he hummed. “How about a ride?”

Cody jerked in surprise, and grinned. “Seriously?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I lack hands. I have no way of holding on to the ball, and my talons and beak would pop it.” he sniffed. “You’d be doing me a favor, honestly.

“Noble!” Cody breathed.

Buzzsaw had learned what Cody meant with that odd phrase in the last few weeks. He lowered his helm and bent his legs, letting the human clamber in to his back. He had a set of thrusters lower down on his back, but unlike Seekers, Jets, or Shuttles his only served the purpose of granting him a speed boost in the air. He didn’t actually need them to get airborne.

Once Cody was seated securely at the base of his neck, Buzzsaw straightened and took to the air. He circled the court, and with a toss of the ball, the game began.

——————————

The rescue missions weren’t unusual. At least a couple times a week, something happened on the island that required the whole team to mobilize. Most of the time though, it was simple. An earth cat stuck in a tree, a lost hiker, a damaged traffic light. The type of thing that only required one or two of the Rescue Bots to handle. Today, it seemed, would not be one of those times.

It had started out peacefully. The Rescue Bots had been out of the bunker, taking care of various things around the island. Boulder was on a “nature walk” with Blades and their partners. Heatwave was with Kade at the school teaching a fire safety class. Chase and his partner were out on a patrol. Cody had remained behind, and he and Buzzsaw were seated on the couch of the lounge watching what the human had called “cable TV”. Buzzsaw didn’t get the point.

Then the program they’d been watching had been taken over by a news report. There was a massive landslide in the mountain that was threatening to bury the whole town. Immediately, the rescue alarm sounded and Cody was racing to the command center. Buzzsaw stayed where he was, as he usually did when an emergency occurred. On the screen, he watched the chaos unfold. Thankfully, the human reporter was there with his camera to record everything.

It didn’t take long for the Rescue Bots to get to the site. It seemed to be progressing well, from what the again observed. Then Blades flew too low, and a stray rock took out his tail rotor. He was forced to land, and the team lost their aerial view. Blades could still help the team on the ground, but without proper “eyes in the sky” as Cody had called it, they would doubtless miss things.

Buzzsaw didn’t really think before he hopped off the couch. He flew to the lift, tapping the console that raised it, and as soon as he had space he was flying up and out of the firehouse. He flew around to where he knew the command center was, noting that the main window was open. Good. He landed on the ledge, optics locking on the screens Cody was viewing. Yes, things were definitely going badly.

“Just hang on, everyone! I’ve called Optimus, he said he’ll be here as soon as he can!”

“Yo don’t need Prime. You need an aerial view. That’s why you’re missing things.”

Cody whirled around. “Buzzsaw!” he cried out. “That’s not possible. Blades is down and there’s no way he can fly with his tail rotor damaged.”

“I know.” the avian straightened. “I’ll go.”

Cody froze. “Buzzsaw, are you sure?”

Before the Cassette could respond, the comm. burst to life. Clearly the others had heard their discussion.

“There’s no time to debate this! Lives are at stake! Cody, do you trust Buzzsaw?” Chief Burns demanded.

“Yeah, Dad. I do.”

“Then give him a communicator and send him out here. He’s right. We need eyes in the sky.”

Cody looked up at him, then nodded. He dug around a drawer, then walked over to Buzzsaw with a comm. unit in hand. He let it magnetize itself to the side of the avian’s helm, and quickly returned to the command console. Buzzsaw would definitely need the comm. His internal comm. system was still disabled. He didn’t say anything to the human, and instead turned and took to the skies.

It didn’t take him long to reach the disaster site. Immediately, he could see where he was needed.

“Heatwave, around the corner from you there’s a boulder baring down on a human couple.” he said sharply.

The firetruck replied with an acknowledgment and went to take care of it. Buzzsaw didn’t pay any mind. He was already focusing on the next issue that needed addressing.

“Boulder, mud and stone are about to take out those houses behind you.”

The bulldozer quickly went to take care of it, digging a trench in front of the houses to keep them from being hit. Buzzsaw moved on.

“Chase, down the mountain from you there’s a human youngling trying to outrun the landslide.”

The police car was quick to move and save the child. Buzzsaw didn’t pay much more attention after that. He couldn’t afford to. He needed all his focus on finding the smaller emergencies within the larger landslide before they could happen. Cody trusted him. He was the first in many years to do so. Buzzsaw refused to let him down.

The boy had earned his loyalty, though damn him if he didn’t know when. He didn’t intend to disappoint the one who had so much faith that he could be more than what he had been. Failure here wasn’t an option.

It never was.

——————————

By the end of the whole ordeal, Buzzsaw was reeling. He’d been part of a team again, even if only temporarily. It had been…nice. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. But now the job was done, and he was on his way back to the firehouse. The others had remained behind to do cleanup work, and apparently Chief Burns would also need to explain his presence to the political leader of the town with an excuse.

He made his way back to the firehouse, his processor starting to calm after the excitement. As he neared, his sensors picked a Cybertronian signal in the courtyard where the basketball court was. It only took a moment to realize who it was. Cody had called in the Prime for help, but that help was no longer needed. That didn’t mean the message had gotten to Prime in time, though.

Sure enough, when the firehouse came into view Buzzzsaw saw Optimus Prime standing in the courtyard. Cody was at his pedes. The avian flew down, alighting on the back of the hoop in front of the larger bot. He would ordinarily have landed next to Cody, but he’d spent too long seeing the Prime as an enemy to put himself on the ground in front of the large mech.

“Buzzsaw.” Prime greeted. “I was told you provided aid to the Rescue Bots.”

Buzzsaw didn’t say anything.

“Tell me, what would you do if you were able to leave?”

“I can.” he snapped. “I’ve got flight. I’ve had it for a while.”

Prime’s lips twitched. “So you have.” he agreed. “Then what are your intentions?”

“Cody decided to get into my business. As far as I’m concerned, he’s stuck with me now, whether he likes it or not.” he scoffed.

Prime’s lips twitched again. Clearly, he had been able to read between the lines to understand what Buzzsaw was saying.

“In that case,” he rumbled. “How would you like to join the Rescue Bots here on Griffin Rock?”

Buzzsaw shuttered his optics. “What.” he deadpanned.

“Would you like to become a Rescue Bot, Buzzsaw?”

“I don’t believe that’s up to me, Prime.” he pointed out. “Or you, for that matter. You don’t lead the team.” he sneered.

“Oh, for Primus’s sake.” Heatwave’s voice came over the comm.

Oh. That was right. Buzzsaw was still hooked into the team’s communications system. The Prime must have opened the previously silent comm. line to Heatewve for at least part of the conversation.

“Choose for yourself, Buzzsaw.” Heatwave continued. “If you want to, we’ll all be happy to have you. You proved to be a good teammate today. No one will have a problem with it. Pit, I’m the one who told Optimus to make the offer before you got there.” Then the comm. clicked off.

“Oh.” Buzzsaw said.

“Indeed.” Prime seemed amused, the fragger. Buzzsaw hoped he got slagged. “What Will it be, then?”

The avian cocked his head sharply. “Ugh.” he made a noise of disgust. “You know what? Fine. The soft idiots need all the help they can get.”

Prime chuckled, then lifted his hand. The armor in his palm shifted, and then a laser was shooting out and hitting Buzzsaw’s chest. There was no pain from it, and he watched as the Rescue Bot badge was put on his armor. The laser stopped, and the Cassette spent a moment staring at the new mark emblazoned on his chestplate.

He looked up when he heard Prime move. “I must leave now, I’m afraid. I am needed elsewhere.” the mech said, inclining his head towards them. Then he walked to the road, folded into his alt-mode, and drove off.

Buzzsaw stared after him, and after a moment he fluttered down to land next to Cody. The human smiled up at him, then lowered his gaze to the new badge on his chest. He lifted a hand to press it over the black lines, looking pleased.

“You’re sure?” he said softly.

Buzzsaw scoffed. “I wouldn’t have agreed if I wasn’t sure. Like I told Prime. You made the decision to get involved with me, so now you’re stuck with me. I’m not leaving, no matter how much you want me to.” he said, his sneer lacking all its usual bite. He paused. “Besides,” he continued, his voice just a notch softer. “You really aren’t all that bad.”

Cody blinked once, then beamed.

Buzzsaw had to look away, feeling almost embarrassed. He hadn’t dared to hope for so many years, but it seemed Primus had deigned to show him kindness after all.

He’d finally found a new roost.

———————————————————————————————————

Well. That’s done! That was long. It took me multiple days to write. But! It’s done!

I had fun with it. Buzzsaw is a grumpy asshole and Cody is very indulgent of his dramatics. And yes, I made him capable of speech. I know he and the Laserbeak can talk in the comics, so.

Also, please excuse my liberal use of headcanons for some of this. Anyway. I hope y’all liked it! I’m sorry it took so long to get out.

Until next time, folks!

140 notes · View notes

unwrittenlibrary · 4 years ago

Text

Fine Line

Summary: There’s a fine line between love and hate and you’re not too sure which side you’re on with Harry anymore. Part Two to What Kind of Man

Words: 5.0k

Warnings: I said this in the first part & will repeat it. This is purely fictional. This in no way reflects how I feel Harry would handle this situation in reality. I’m really using Harry as a character. DO NOT READ THIS if you feel the situation of cheating and staying together will impact you strongly or offend you. That is not what I want when reading my story.

Notes: I urge those uncomfortable with cheating to avoid this. I also urge those who dislike this kind of writing to avoid. I came up with this story at a point in my life where my parents were divorcing, I was going through a break up and was lost. I’ve decided to finish this story because I put so much effort into it for it to end unfinished feels wrong. I can’t speak for anybody and how they would handle this situation.

Thank you for 1000 followers. That is crazy!

You’ve got my devotion.

But man, I can hate you sometimes.

...

You sunshine, you temptress.

My hands at risk I fold.

April.

The first two sessions had gone by in relative silence. You weren’t sure what to say to answer the therapists questions. You weren’t sure you even wanted to talk at all.

“Y/N.” You look up startled out of your thoughts. “Do you feel like talking today?” Her eyes are kind and understanding. Her degrees hang behind her head and you zone in on them. Dr. Walsh had been the only therapist who could take you on in April. Any others that you called had informed you their next opening for new patients wasn’t until the end of May.

You supposed it could have been worse. So far, Dr. Walsh had come across as kind and understanding of your hesitance. She had never forced you to talk and had only tried to get you involved on your own accord.

“What would we talk about?” You ask instead of ignoring in silence like you had the past two sessions. You can see Harry turn his head to look at you out of the corner of your eye, but you remained focused on the two degrees hanging behind Dr. Walsh’s head.

UCLA. “What year did you graduate?” You ask before she can answer your original question. “From UCLA.”

“We can talk about whatever you want. How you two met. Your kids.” You raise an eyebrow and she smiles. “1996.”

“I thought we were supposed to talk about our issues. Why would we talk about our kids or how we met?” You answer her question. You can tell Harry’s eyes are moving back and forth between the two of you, like he’s unsure if he should get involved in the conversation.

Dr. Walsh shakes her head. “Sometimes the best place to start is with what makes you two happy. You’re here to work on your relationship, right?”

The two of you nod. “Then I’m not worried about starting with the most painful part of your relationship. I want to learn about it. If I can learn about your relationship then I have more knowledge on how to help you repair it, if that’s what you want.”

“Okay.” You agree. You feel some of your tenseness fade away. You were here for a reason. “We went to UCLA too.”

She nods. “You did? Were you studying the same thing? Is that how you two met?”

You look down at your fidgeting hands and let out a laugh. “Not quite. I was a creative writing major and Harry was political science. We met in a World History course our sophomore. It was a general requirement class.”

“Yeah.” Harry nods as if the memory is coming back to him. ��Professor Ward.”

“Mind if I sit here?” You look up and your breath hitches. He was handsome. That was your first thought. Bright eyes and a sweet smile that could take anyone’s breath away.

You nod hastily. “Yeah. It’s all yours.” You move your notebook over so he has a bit more room on his half of the table.

“Thanks.” He drops his books on the table and flops down into the chair. “Harry.” He reaches a hand towards you and you meet him halfway.

You offer your name up easily and his smile brightens. “What brings you into a World history course?” He asks quietly as the last bit of students rush into the few seats left up front.

You smile. “Creative writing majors have to take one broad history course before focusing on any history of writing courses. Ward’s class was the only one with openings that didn’t start at eight.”

“Creative writing. That’s cool.” Harry’s spinning the pen in between his fingers. “You want to be a writer?”

You smile nervously and nod. “That’s the goal. What brings you to Ward’s World History?”

Harry laughs softly. “I’m a political science major, this is just a required gen ed.”

“Political science. What’s your plan with that? Am I sitting next to a future senator?” You give him a teasing smile.

“Lawyer.”

You shrug, “Senators have to start somewhere.” The professor comes in and that halts the conversation from going anywhere else. As Professor Ward goes over the syllabus you see a piece of paper slide across the table towards you. You look over at Harry, but he’s looking ahead with a smirk on his face.

You unfold the paper and there is a number written in messy handwriting taking up the small page.

“Bold.” You whisper to him and he shrugs. “I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.” He whispers back.

“So you both liked each other right away?” You look up as you're dragged out of the memory of meeting Harry.

“Yeah.” You breathe out. “I think so.”

“Definitely.” Harry agrees. “I’m lucky I was running late that day. The seat next to her was the only good seat left. Plus, she helped edit all my essays. I was a shit writer before her.”

You smile softly at the memory. “Y/N?” You look up and Dr. Walsh is watching you closely.

“That class sucked.” You can’t help but let out a laugh. “We had so many essays. He’s right, he was a shit writer before me.”

You finally spare a look over at Harry and he’s watching you with soft eyes. “That was our first semester of sophomore year. We were attached at the hip after that.” You look back down at your hands.

“Did you guys start dating right away?” She asks.

“Pretty much. We started dating right before winter break.” Harry answers for the both of you.

She nods as she eyes the clock on the wall. “Does that memory still make you happy?”

You nod. Your memories hadn’t been ruined. But that didn’t really mean anything when you could barely be in the same room as Harry now. “Of course. But… Things are different. We’re not twenty-somethings with no responsibility. We’re parents. Partners. We’re supposed to have each other’s back. And now it feels like we don’t.”

Harry looks over at Dr. Walsh as she studies you. She was obviously taking in your words and processing a response to them. “I think the biggest question you need to find the answer to is, do you want to fix this marriage?” She finally says looking pointedly at the distance between you two.

You pause and mull over her question. “Can we fix it?” You ask quietly.

She shrugs. “I can’t answer that for you. It’s my job to help you find the answer, not give it to you. What I can tell you is; Sometimes people walk out of this with a new appreciation and love. Sometimes people realize it can’t be fixed. Nothing is wrong with either, it’s just up to you two to figure out which one it is.”

You look over at Harry and find him watching you with hopeful eyes. You knew he wanted to and felt like you both could fix this.

But you weren’t sure. “I don’t know.”

The drive home is silent for the most part. Music playing softly from the radio as you stare out the passenger side window.

“I don’t know what to say.” Harry says as he pulls the car into the driveway. He puts it into park but doesn’t turn it off so the music is still playing as he turns to look at you.

Gemma’s car was parked behind your own. You see the curtain move slightly which is a telltale sign that a child was peeking out the window. It quickly falls back into place when your eye catches Serena’s.

You shake your head and look back down at your lap. “What is there to say?”

Harry shuts his eyes and you see his grip on the steering wheel tighten. “I want to fix this. I’m trying. Do you want to fix this?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Don’t try and guilt me, Harry. I didn’t cheat, you did. This… This mess isn’t my fault and it shouldn’t be my job to fix it.”

“I’m not trying to guilt-“ He cuts himself off and takes a deep breath. “That was a shitty thing to say. I know. I just want to know if we’re gonna make it through this. If you think we have a chance.”

You look over at him with watery eyes. “I don’t know. All I can think about is you fucking another woman while I was home with our kids. Telling them that you were just busy. That we would have dinner tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.”

Harry flinches like you’ve hit him. You turn away but don’t stop talking. “I know a month may not seem like a long time in the grand scheme of things. We’ve been together for seventeen years, so what’s a month?” You laugh humorlessly. “But how long have we been distant? How long have you been staying late and missing dinners?”

“I don’t know.” Harry whispers and you see him clench his eyes in an attempt to stop tears from falling.

“It’s been months, Harry.” You look around the yard. Your and Persephone’s plants needed maintenance. “We had Jack and then everything changed. We stopped date nights. Family game nights faded from existence. We stopped having sex. I… I don’t know what happened.”

Harry doesn’t say anything so you sigh. “I’m trying, Harry. It may not seem like it to you, but I’m trying.” You unbuckle yourself and move to get out of the car.

Harry reaches out and wraps his hand gently around your wrist. “I know.” He stresses the word. “I know you are.”

You nod and the two of you just watch each other for a moment. You break away from him first. “I’m sure the kids are peeking out the window. We’ve been out here long enough.”

The both of you climb out of the car silently. The door flies open by the time you reach the second step of your front porch.

“Mama!” Oliver comes flying out towards you. “Mama. Never leave us again. Baby Jack is crazy.” He grips you tight and you laugh, the tension immediately leaving your body as you hug him back.

Gemma comes to stand in the entrance with Jack on her hip. She gives you a weak smile and you smile back. “Come on, I’m sure Aunt Gem is dying to go home after watching you crazy lot for two hours.”

Gemma leaves quickly handing Jack off to Harry and giving you and Harry both kisses on the cheek. “Let me know about spring break, Y/N!” She calls as she rushes out your front door.

“Spring break?” Harry asks as he bounces Jack in his arms.

“We’ll talk about it later.” You say sparing a glance down to Oliver, who’s still attached to your leg. Harry nods before moving towards the living room. Oliver follows behind him and you’re left in the front hall alone.

You take a deep breath before following them.

Harry sleeps in the guest room. You can’t bring yourself to allow him back into the room you two shared.

His clothes remain in his half of the closet though and his toiletries had remained in place on the bathroom counter, so you saw him every night before going to sleep.

Dr. Walsh had suggested the two of you used this time to try and reconnect. “You don’t have to sleep in the same bed yet. It’s completely normal for you to need time apart, Y/N. But I do want you two to talk before bed every night, I know you have four kids and it may be your only true alone time to reconnect emotionally before you ever do anything physically, even just sleep.” She had offered at the end of your session after you had admitted you weren’t sure how you felt about Harry and your relationship now. “This is a good way to figure out if you can still see yourself together.”

You loved him. You didn’t need her to help you answer that question. He was the father of your children. You had over a decade of amazing times together. But you couldn’t look at him without your chest aching.

“What was Gemma talking about spring break?” Harry sits on the lounge chair you two had placed in the corner of your room. Jack’s bassinet used to be next to it, but he had recently moved into his own room.

You sit on the end of your bed with your arms crossed over your chest. “Olly has been asking if we could go to Disney World. I was talking to her about maybe surprising him and Serena for their birthday since it falls during the kids break this year.”

“That sounds really nice.” Harry smiles and you nod. “I’m sure the four of them would love it. I can put in for the week tomorrow. I have a bunch of paid time off I need to use up.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “You want to go? We haven’t been on vacation since the beach trip before Jack was born.”

Harry’s face turns stoic. “Of course I want to go. I told you I was going to spend more time with guys.” He walks towards the dresser you have pushed against the wall. “Here, pull your laptop out, let's book this now so we can get a good room.”

You gape at him. It had only been an idea you were considering for the twins birthday. Although, it was coming up and you were running out of time to make a decision.

“Are you sure you can get the time off?” You ask instead of listening to his direction.

Harry nods resolutely. “Can I?” He points next to you and you nod. You lean over to your nightstand, where you had left the computer the night before while writing.

You push it open. “I’m gonna go get Persephone.” You stand up and hand the laptop to Harry. “She can help plan some stuff with us, so we know what these young kids want.” You give Harry a weak smile and he nods.

You shake your hands out as you make your way down the hall towards your eldest daughter’s room. You knock softly on the door, “Seph?”

“Come in.” She calls and you push the door open. She’s got her show paused and is curled into her comforter. “What’s up, mom?”

“Can you help your dad and I with something?” You ask hesitantly. “I know it’s late, it’ll be quick.”

Persephone gives you the same dimpled smile Harry has, “Of course. I was gonna be up binge watching this show anyways.” She unwraps herself from the blanket and grabs her phone before following you back to your bedroom.

“Hey, lovebug.” Harry gives her your favorite smile. One he’s somehow reserved solely for you children. Soft and bright while his eyes shine proudly.

“Hi, daddy.” She plops herself down next to him and rests her head on his shoulder. He presses a kiss to her forehead and the smile that spreads across Persephone’s face is contagious.

You take a seat next to her, so she is squished in between the two of you. “You know how Olly has been asking about Disney?” You ask quietly. You and Harry had put the twins down an hour ago, but Oliver was known to sneak away from his room for a cuddle with you.

She nods instead of verbally answering and Harry pulls up the booking website. “Your mom had the great idea to surprise the twins for their birthday.”

“Really?” Seph asks excitedly. Your family trips usually consisted of beaches or visiting grandparents. The last time you had been to Disney was when it was just the three of you. You weren’t sure she could even remember most of the trip.

You bump her shoulder softly with an excited grin. “Really. Jack is old enough that he can get probably through a day there without screaming his head off. Aunt Gem said that she could come to help watch him so you three can have fun.”

“That sounds awesome!” She lifts her head from Harry’s shoulder and looks at you happily. “What did you need my help with?”

“Picking out where to stay. You guys are the focus of the trip so we want you to stay where you want to, not us.” You gently take the laptop from Harry and place it in her hands. “So tell us your top three and then dad and I will pick from there so you still get to enjoy some of the surprise aspect.”

She scrolls through the website for a few minutes while the three of you sit there quietly. You glance over at Harry hesitantly. He’s looking down at your daughter with bright eyes.

You quickly look away when his eyes move up to meet yours. “Okay. I added the three I liked the most to your favorites! Did you guys need anything else?”

You both shake your head. “Just keep this a secret. It’s going to be a surprise.” You smile excitedly at your eldest. She had grown so much, but seeing the childlike shine of excitement in her eyes brought you a bounty of joy. She was still your baby.

Persephone nods before handing the laptop back over to Harry. She presses a kiss to both your and his cheeks before hopping up and making her way towards your door.

You give her a confused smile when she pauses and turns back around to face you again. She takes in a nervous breath before speaking.

“It’s really good to be all together again.” The words are quiet and fearful. “Um. I love you guys. Goodnight.” She turns on her heel and bolts out the room and back down the hall.

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek and look down at your lap. “I’m sorry.” Harry whispers. His tone is similar to her’s. Quiet and full of fear. “I love you all. I know I hurt you, but you are all my world. Those kids are what I’m most proudest of.”

“I know.” You look over at his lap. His hands curled tightly around the laptop still open in his lap. “I never doubted how much they meant to you Harry. I know how much you love those kids.”

You want to reach out and pull his hand into yours. Something you usually did when Harry was scared or nervous. But you kept your hand firmly planted in your lap, unable to give him that forgiveness.

“I was never afraid of you not loving them. I was-“ You stop unsure of what to say. What were you afraid of? “I was afraid that I had given so much and you still wouldn’t have chosen me.”

Harry looks over at you with sad eyes and you let out a humorless laugh. “Harry, I’ve never regretted having Persephone so young. I’ve never regretted being home. But, I just want you to show that… that you appreciate me.”

“I do appreciate you.” Harry says quietly. “I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel like I don’t.” He places the laptop in the empty space in between you. You watch as he works through what to say, his tension clear in his eyes.

“But…” He trails off like he’s still unsure of what to say. “I’m here. I want to be here. I want to show you that I appreciate you.” Harry takes a deep breath and places a hesitant hand on your back. “As long as you’ll have me.”

You take a deep breath. “Let’s focus on this... I want the twins to have a great birthday and for Seph to have a great spring break. Things have been tough for them too. We can figure the other stuff out later.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, just nods and pulls the laptop back towards him. You can tell he wants to though. That he wants to talk this out and get in deep.

You just can’t bring yourself to do it.

“A family vacation can be very cathartic for couples struggling.” Dr. Walsh gives the two of you a kind smile after you reveal what you had planned for your kids. “But, it can also bring about stress at being in such a small space for such a long time. Especially when you’re still struggling to communicate.”

“I’m really trying.” You say quietly, on edge at the idea of you and Harry bringing about any stress on a trip meant to be for your kids. “We both are. I think.”

“I know.” She gives you an understanding look. “You guys do your homework. You said it yourself, your nightly conversations aren’t painful anymore. But talking about small things is only the beginning of strengthening your communication.”

“So you want us to talk about the affair?” You ask. “The big thing.”

She shakes her head. “Eventually. Sweeping it under the rug or ignoring it can only cause more tension. But there are other things I’m sure you want to talk about as well.”

“Like what?” Harry asks. He glances over at you before looking back at Dr. Walsh.

“Anything either of you felt was an issue.” She explains. “Big or small. Anything you think contributed to your distance. Try to remember, you’re not placing blame.”

“Not even for the affair?” Harry sighs and you shut your eyes. “How can I not place blame? That’s not my fault.”

“No.” She agrees. “I’ve never agreed with placing blame for something like that on the victim. Do you want to start with talking about it?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I just wanted to make sure we’re not finding all these so-called small issues so we can then excuse the cheating. I won’t do that.” You say disdainfully.

“We don’t expect you to.” She glances over at Harry. He looks pained but he nods in agreement. “Of course not.” He says quietly.

You take a deep breath in before nodding. “Okay, then where do we start?”

“A lot of times, affairs feel like they come out of nowhere. They do.” She gives you an assuaging look. “But it’s also important to remember that there were issues before it and they’re still there to be worked through. We want to work through the big problem, but oftentimes couples work through that but not other things and end up separating.”

You nod and take a deep breath trying to think through issues. Things had felt perfect during your pregnancy with Jack.

You were excited, a fourth child and it was a boy, you and Harry had been hoping for another boy. Harry had even planned the small family vacation to the beach so you could enjoy time together as a family of five before it became six.

“We argued.” You say quietly. The family vacation slips from your mind as your exhausted tears come to your memory. “Um. I had Jack and I was exhausted and we argued. It was barely even an argument.”

“He still won’t eat?” Harry asks, coming into the bedroom. He was still in his suit from court and you feel angry heat flush through you at how put together he looked. How well rested and up he looked.

You shake your head silently. Harry seems to not notice your tense jaw as he pushes his way into the closet to find clothes for the night. You turn to look down at Jack laying restlessly in your arms. Tears rush to your eyes as you stand and place Jack in his bassinet and finally get a look at yourself in the mirror hanging next to the closet door.

You hadn’t showered since Persephone had left earlier the previous day and after running around to get the twins settled with Gemma and taking care of the baby all day you felt tense and gross.

Harry comes out and smiles kindly as he watches you step towards the ensuite. “Can you watch him for a moment? I need a shower. I feel gross and it’ll help me relax. My nurse said getting tense makes it harder to breastfeed.”

Harry looks down at his watch. “Something more important?” You ask before he can get a word out. “No. Just- I was supposed to hop on a conference call with Jeff, I’ll reschedule.” Harry tries to change the tone of the conversation, but you’ve already seen red. “Y/N, go shower.”

“I’m sorry.” You say instead of moving. “I didn’t mean to inconvenience you with your child for half an hour.” You know you don’t mean the harsh words and that you’ll probably regret them all after you’ve taken a break but- “I’m home all day with him, but fuck if I ask you to watch him so I can shower.”

Harry’s eyes widen at the cold tone. He crosses his arms defensively across his chest as he takes a step back from you, even though he was already several feet away. “I never said I was inconvenienced. You asked a question and I answered honestly. I don’t have a problem spending time with my own child, Y/N.”

Your turn on your heel and stock into the ensuite and slam the door shut behind you. You hear Jack begin to fuss more and Harry’s whispers as he presumably picks the baby up. There wasn’t a time in the fifteen years you’ve had children that you’ve ever thought Harry didn’t want to spend time with his kids. You still didn’t. But the exhaustion and stress that you felt with Jack was unlike anything you’d felt before and Harry hadn’t seemed to notice.

“It felt like you weren’t paying attention.” You say quietly. “It felt like you had no idea what was going on.” Dr. Walsh trains her eyes on you as Harry’s eyes flick around trying to figure out what argument you were talking about.

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly. Jack is curled in your arms as he eats and a weight has been lifted off your shoulder. You feel shameful at the words that had slipped out in an attempt to make Harry notice how upset you were. “I know you’re not inconvenienced by our kids.”

Harry turns his head to look at you. He had been silently typing out emails as you fed Jack, upset but refusing to leave your side. “What’s wrong?” He asks as he slams the laptop shut.

You want to tell him. How stressed and anxious you felt. How much tougher being with Jack was than any of your other children. How insecure it made you feel. You should tell him.

But.

“How could I tell you all that and not sound like I’m angry at our child? Not sound like an awful mother?” You choke on the words.

Harry stares at you with what looks like pity and you turn away. You didn’t want pity. You wanted help. You wanted him to understand. “You don’t sound like a horrible mother. You sound tired.”

“What stopped you from telling him this?” Dr. Walsh prompts gently as you and Harry fall into silence. Her eyes flicker to Harry as he watches you with the same sad eyes.

You shrug. “I just wanted him to notice. I wanted to feel like he still noticed me.” You let out a breath. “We love Jack, but Jack wasn’t exactly planned. We weren’t sure if we wanted a fourth and had only just begun talking about it. When I found out I was pregnant and figured out how excited I felt, I knew I wanted to keep him.” You explain to the therapist carefully. “We decided that we wanted him, but he would be our last one.”

You think of the doctors appointments and heavy warnings that a fourth pregnancy could wreck havoc on your body.

“But I’m not twenty-three anymore and the pregnancy was really tough on me. And Harry knew. So he took care of the kids when I couldn’t and he planned vacations for me before I gave birth and it-” You breath catches. “It felt like you didn’t care anymore once I had him because I wasn’t in danger anymore. But Jack is stubborn and I was struggling.”

Harry takes in a shaky breath and reaches out to steady your trembling hands.

It’s a start. You guess.

“I didn’t realize how tough Jack was on you.” Harry says quietly that night. You had been dreading sitting in the awkward silence.

You shrug. “Babies are tough. Persephone was tough because we were so young. Serena and Oliver were tough because they were twins.” Your baby monitor makes a sound and you glance over to see Jack stretching his arms.

You sigh and stand up. “Jack was… Jack was tough in a way I wasn’t expecting. Maybe it was because I had four kids all of the sudden or because you started working more. I was exhausted all the time.”

You leave before he can say anything in response, but you know he’ll follow you to Jack’s room. You push the door open quietly and hear Jack’s soft giggles.

“Hello, handsome.” You whisper as he looks up at you. “What’s got you awake?”

You pick him up gently and bring him over to the rocking chair placed in the corner of the room. Harry leans against the door jam.

You rock back and forth with Jack in your arms and Harry watched with gentle eyes. You look up as Harry begins to speak quietly. “I wish I could take everything back. Just… Redo this past year.”

You look down at Jack and run a gentle finger over his cheek. “You can’t. You don’t get redos in real life.”

The room is silent as you rock your baby back to sleep and Harry watches.

We’ll be a fine line.

Notes: Title song Fine Line. This is really a filler for the next piece, I needed April to get to May :/

A few things; I have them staying together written. While this has been my plan since I begun writing this part & the next, if it’s something people wanted, I could do two different endings.

Like I said, I wrote this at a low place for me and had always imagined it as some type of closure that I never got from my parents situation or from my ex. Cheaters suck. But, some people do work through it. Some people can’t. That’s the beauty of our autonomy, we decide. I got a lot (and I mean a lot) of messages urging me to be mindful of impressionable people who may read this piece & with that I want to say; Your situation is not this one. Some cheaters will always be cheaters. This is not in anyway trying to convince you that a toxic relationship is okay. Or that cheating is okay. Please remember this is fiction and not meant to do anything other than entertain you! This is a piece I wrote & a piece whose ending I choose. Thank you for reading. I love every single person who read What Kind of Man and thought, I want more of this person’s writing.

(please do not be mean to me, I write for fun & am very emotional thank u)

#harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles writing #my writing #tee answers

425 notes · View notes

jimlingss · 4 years ago

Text

Maybe Baby Retreat

➜ Words: 12.7k

➜ Genres: 50% Fluff, 50% Smut

➜ Summary: In an attempt to conceive, Taehyung discovers a five day retreat dedicated to help with the impregnation process but you're fairly certain that the entire thing is a scam.

[Day One] Taehyung should be fucking you. It’s a bit crass to be grumbling that he’s not sticking his sperm in you, but your fertile window begins today and if he really wants a kid as much as he says he does, you wouldn’t be on a godforsaken bus. The yellow school bus jumps and jolts as it goes down the jagged, unpaved road. Every bump is felt in the back by ten folds as you’re rocked from side to side on the seat and not on your husband’s dick. Said man is too busy singing along with the guide that’s living it up with a mic in hand and his voice on the intercom. He’s trying to bring up the morale, but you’re not having it. Instead, you turn to the window and stare out at the empty countryside that stretches across the horizon. There’s not a car in sight and if you swear to god if you’re being shipped to a serial killer’s farmhouse, you’re dragging Taehyung down to hell with you. “You’re frowning, sweetheart,” he says while leaning over to you, flashing a blazing grin much to your chagrin. “You know stress isn’t good for the baby.” “It’s not like it matters. There is no baby.” “Not yet.” Taehyung throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you scoff. You’re aware being a Debbie Downer isn’t going to help anyone but it’s hard to loosen up when you’re so on guard and skeptical about this whole thing. When you’re surrounded by noisy strangers who are all too overfamiliar. You suppose it was your fault to begin with. All those nights of staying up to read about tricks and tips of conceiving led Taehyung to discover the Baby Retreat. A five day sanctuary that ensures people will be able to conceive. The moment you saw it, you were certain that the whole thing was a scam, but your sweet summer child husband was wholly convinced and no matter what you said, it wouldn’t change his mind. “Who knows, it might actually work, right?! And if it doesn’t, then it looks fun anyway! When was the last time we had a vacation together?” It’s also your fault for being so soft. You couldn’t shut Taehyung down when he was so enthusiastic, so here you are. You took off a week off work and on your fertile day, you’re shipped onto a school bus out into the middle of nowhere. “Oh! Looks like we’re here, folks!” The vehicle slows as it turns into the gravel parking lot and the guide smiles as he peers out the windshield. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope you leave with a few buns in the oven! And if not, then don’t worry, you can still eat for two here!” There’s a few snickers and once the bus parks, everyone gets up, slowly shuffling out and stretching their legs. The air is sweltering hot and the sun beams down onto the back of your neck, making it uncomfortable to breathe. You’re panting with sweat built on your hairline as you drag your luggage through the grass. But no one seems bothered by it. Maybe because they’re excited that they’re here, they have the energy to fill the field with their chatter. Even Taehyung is grinning and he’s a certified whiner when it comes to hot weather. The guy blasts the air conditioner during summer until it feels like it’s winter. Though you have an inkling it’s just a tactic so you can cuddle up to him for warmth before bed. “Come on, slowpoke!” Taehyung breaks through your train of thought and then abandons you by running ahead like a hyperactive five year old. “I’d be faster if you helped me!” Taehyung doesn’t hear you. You wonder if you married a child — but you suppose that’s why you called him the light of your life during your vows. Like Yoongi once said at the dinner reception, Taehyung’s excessive energy is indeed a double-edged sword. You follow the stream of people to the center building, a modern wooden structure in the middle of the fifteen yurts that form a circle. It surprisingly looks alike to the advertisements, each with a porch and steps up to the door. The grass is verdant and pliant beneath your feet, the numerous trimmed trees around providing some nice shade and the flower beds give bright splashes of colour to the place. If this retreat wasn’t oddly centered around impregnation, you would’ve been convinced that it was a fancy camping resort. “Welcome everyone! Welcome to the Baby Retreat! I hope the trip here wasn’t too bad!” You finally join Taehyung’s side and look towards the stage in front of the main building. There’s a man with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks in a loose tunic and taupe pants. He stands next to a woman in a baggy poncho holding a ukulele for reasons beyond you. “I see some familiar faces here! To all those already familiar with the Baby Retreat, welcome home. I’ll try to keep this short and simple, so you’re not too bored.” He claps his hands together with a bright smile. You look around at the crowd to see elated expressions. “My name is Park Jimin and this is my girlfriend, Song Hyunjin. A little about us, we’ve been together for over ten years and yes, we have an open relationship with each other, but that does not mean we aren’t in love with each other.” He draws her in, nuzzling into her without shame and she giggles. “To our new faces, trust me, you’ll find out soon enough.” Jimin pulls away with an enormous grin. “We haven’t had any children ourselves, but don’t worry. We’re reproductive endocrinologists with proper training and medical degrees. But we started this retreat four years ago to take a more unconventional approach to reproduction. And for the next five days, we have the honour of hopefully helping you ladies conceive and you males impregnate your partner!” There’s some exchanged smiles and Taehyung looks at you with hopeful eyes. It feels better to hear these people aren’t uneducated and talking out of their ass, but you’re still unsure how to feel. Hyunjin laughs. “Not only that, our goal is to help you relax and truly deepen your relationship with your partner. While we can’t promise a hundred percent success rate, hopefully you’ll leave this place feeling more refreshed than you did before. With that being said, please feel free to come up and ask us any questions. We’re very open people who are more than happy to help you in your process of expanding your wonderful families. There is nothing more beautiful than pregnancy and birth.” She jumps off the stage and grabs a wooden crate. With a smile, she begins passing out packs. Jimin continues, “For the next five days, we’ll be helping everyone improve their diets and exercise habits while getting plenty of vitamin D. What my lovely Hyunjin is handing out now are your survival kits!” “For men, fenugreek supplements are given to improve your sperm counts and for the ladies, there are prenatal vitamins and folic acid. There’s also a guide to the activities provided around here and a map, some sunscreen and other knick-knacks to remember your time here. Don’t worry, we won’t bombard you with any pregnancy pamphlets or information. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing about that.” It’s a bit refreshing to hear. You’ve been neck deep in research about conception that it’s been hard lately — another reason that you agreed to Taehyung’s whims. “Are you the Kim family?” Hyunjin asks and when you confirm it, she hands both you and Taehyung cute pouches. You reluctantly take it, but when you thank her, she happily smiles. “Welcome to the Baby Retreat.” The introduction drags on for a bit more before Hyunjin admits that it’s hot and that everyone’s probably tired, so the meeting ends and you open your pouch and find information on your yurt. “Not too bad, right?” Taehyung can tell by the look on your face as you gaze up at your white-tented yurt. “We’ll see,” you mumble and he takes the luggage, following behind you. “I thought we were going to spend five days in an orange tent, so I guess this is better by default.” “An orange tent?” He laughs. “But I showed you the commercial! Did you not pay attention?” “People lie on advertisements all the time, Tae.” But to your surprise, the interior of the yurt is even better than expected. It looks like a cozy cabin, wooden panel walls that separate the full kitchen from the full bathroom and provides some privacy to where the queen sized bed is. Light comes in from the top, filling the space with luminescence. There’s a mini-fridge filled with goods, plush towels set on the table with a personalized welcome card, down duvets that are soft to the touch. And it’s wrecked the moment Taehyung jumps on the bed with his arms and legs wide open like a starfish. He rolls over and props his head up with his hand — in the position where he often asks you in a breathy voice to paint him like one of your french girls. And he uses the same voice on you now while wiggling his brows, “Wanna ruin the sheets with me?” You burst out laughing, but it sounds all too tempting. He could probably dump a load in you within five minutes, though you’re not sure if anyone could hear you from the outside. “Didn’t they say there’s planned activities in an hour? What if we don’t show up.” “It’s fine. People come here for one reason anyway.” There’s a pause. “To fuck.” You roll your eyes, setting your suitcase next to the bed and you look at the nightstand to notice mineral oil lubricants. You’re mildly impressed at the details. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” “They won’t miss us.” Taehyung’s own attention is taken to a wooden basket on a shelf of the irregular shaped bookshelf and he comes over, only to grin when he sees what’s inside. “Honey. I think we should have some fun tonight.” You turn around, wondering what he’s up to now. But any snarky remarks die on your tongue when you find a leather whip in his left hand and a ten inch, neon pink dildo in his other hand. “Is that...even sanitary?!” You can’t imagine how many people have used it. “We can find out.” Taehyung fiddles around with it, pushes a button and the dildo begins to rotate, making the both of you laugh. “Honey, we gotta give them five stars on Yelp! They have a communal sex toy bin for us to use! We can’t get this anywhere else.” “Oh god. I’d rather not share my sex toys with anyone.” The two of you are interrupted by muffled folk music that begins to leak inside and it persuades you to go out. “C’mon, we should go check out what they have. If we have to spend five days here, we might as well meet some other people too and be social or whatever.” Taehyung grins, tossing the dildo back into the basket and joining your side. “You’re liking this place, aren’t you?” “No. I just think the yurt’s half-decent.” Taehyung can see right through you, but it’s a bit too early for the ‘told you so’ spiel so he holds back and the both of you step outside of the yurt. There’s a few people hanging around and the weather is more bearable as the sun slowly begins moving and setting over the horizon. You meet friendly newlyweds who are surprisingly having their honeymoon here. “We just can’t wait to have kids,” Rose, the young twenty three year old, says as she embraces her husband, Hoseok. They’re no strangers to publish displays of affection, openly kissing up on each other. It would make you a bit uncomfortable if not for how touchy Taehyung is as well. When you first got together all those years ago, your friends teased you about it but it’s been years since. No one’s a stranger to how you plop yourself down on Taehyung’s lap or how he might kiss you and then steal your food right off of your own plate. “When we saw that the retreat offered a honeymoon package, we just couldn’t resist,” Hoseok says, but you’re not sure if he’s talking to you and Taehyung or his wife with how much he gazes at her. It’s a sweet sight though. You remember that honeymoon period. “Remember when we were that young?” you ask as you leave to the other side, giving the couple some much needed privacy. It was obvious they weren’t up for more conversation with the way they’re shifting and staring at one another. “When you were still hot? Yeah. I do—” Taehyung bursts out laughing when you jab him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! You’re still hot, okay? The hottest chick here and you’d make the hottest MILF too.” “Damn straight.” The pair of you also run into another couple that’s older and appears a lot more comfortable with the place. “Oh, this is actually our second time here! The first time gave us the four year old troublemaker running amok back at home.” You blink in surprise, suddenly more interested in the conversation. “This place...worked for you?” “It sure did.” The woman, Dahyun, smiles. “Some people didn’t have as much luck as we did, but we had so much fun last time that we knew we just had to come back. We were actually staying in your yurt last time.” She points and you swivel your head over, intrigued. “Huh.” Taehyung raises a brow, noticing how engaged you are and the corner of his mouth tugs. Her husband, Seokjin, chuckles heartily. “We thought it was time to give our son a younger brother, so here we are! Tonight’s the welcome party and just a word of advice, I really recommend getting some of that grilled salmon. It’s absolutely delicious.” “Just let them eat whatever they want, Jin,” his wife sighs in exasperation. “I’m just saying! I would’ve liked to know last time — I would’ve gotten two plates before they ran out.” “This is why the doctor told you to eat less of everything. You ate more than I did when I was pregnant with Youngjae.” “I can’t help that I’m eating for three! For your information, I’m carrying the entire family on these broad, broad shoulders of mine. Soon, I’ll have to start eating for four.” Dahyun turns to you and Taehyung who are amused at their bickering. “I’m sorry. Please ignore him.” It’s not a bad place, at least not so far. You weren’t sure what you were anticipating, but on the entire way here, you were worried that it was a scam your poor husband fell for. Luckily though, it seemed like the accommodation is good and the people around are friendly and welcoming, coming from different kinds of backgrounds and walks of life. It makes you feel better about not having internet connection or being murdered in the middle of the night. The welcoming party turns out to be fairly nice too, and like Seokjin said, the food is delicious. It’s a buffet style with tables set out, full of what Jimin declares is antioxidant-rich foods. He and Hyunjin go on a tangent about the benefits, how soy and estrogen foods have been limited, how there’s an emphasis on fruits, vegetables, carbohydrates, proteins and folic acid, and you’re sorely impressed at the attention to detail they provide. “Oh my god. The salmon is amazing and have you tried these beans, Tae?!” Taehyung laughs as he watches you eat, eyes lifted to look at you across the rounded table. “I thought you hated beans.” “I do. But try it.” You lift your fork and he happily leans over, taking a bite. He swallows it down and smiles at how you stuff your cheeks. After dinner, the pair of you gather with the rest to watch a few performances held on the main stage. Jimin introduces other staff members who sing, dance and Hyunjin even does a number with her ukulele, belting out some indie songs while standing bare feet. It’s bizarre and a bit surreal to be sitting back in a lawn chair and watching some chick with flowers in her hair jump around and try to entertain you, but it’s not completely unwelcome. If anything, you were sort of having fun. The sun had set, making the weather milder. The breeze was warm against your cheeks and the fairy lights strung above were twinkling. The whole atmosphere lulled you and with your head leaning on Taehyung’s shoulder, every blink became heavier and heavier. “This is nice,” you mutter and he catches it. Your husband turns his head with a tiny smile. “Yeah?” “Mhmh...” You feel a wet kiss being planted at the top of your head and you decide to indulge, closing your eyes for just a moment. But the next time they open, you realize that the crowd has thinned, they’ve put on music on the stereo and Taehyung’s windbreaker is draped on top of you as a makeshift blanket. “Hey there, sleepy head.” He grins at you when he notices your lashes fluttering. “Want me to carry you back to the yurt?” “I’m fine.” It takes a second to get up and you stretch your arms out before the both of you make your way back to the yurt. There were a few younger couples lingering around and still taking in the scenery, but the years were catching up to you quickly and all you wanted was to dive into the sheets and satiate the rest of your sleepiness. “How long was I out for?” “About half an hour?” Taehyung fishes for the key and opens the door. “I didn’t even realize I was so tired.” You manage to kick off your shoes and beeline to the bathroom to brush your teeth. “Of course, you were tired. You didn’t even sleep on the bus and for the past few days you’ve been up late doing research.” You mumble incoherently, not having enough energy to argue with Taehyung and he grins, nudging you aside so he can grab his own toothbrush. In the next ten minutes, it’s lights out. You’re rolled onto the bed, tucked into the warm sheets like a burrito, and Taehyung’s settled in as well. You hear his exhale and you allow your muscles to relax in the comfortable darkness. The exhaustion that’s been built from the entire day washes over you. But before you can drift off, in the quietness of the room, you remember. And you reach out, arm stretched, feeling for your husband. Taehyung hums when you tap his shoulder. You feel him shift and mumble, “What’s wrong?” “I’m fertile,” you mutter with your eyes closed. “You need to stick your dick in me.” He bursts out laughing and his arm slings over your abdomen. “It’s okay if we don’t have sex tonight, you know.” You sigh, too fatigued to get up and do the job yourself. “We’re gonna miss our opportunity, Tae.” A soft kiss is pressed to your temple, and you feel yourself losing the fight to keep your consciousness. “We’ll have other chances. Relax.” “Relaxing….isn't gonna give us a baby.” “No, but it will keep my current baby sane.” After being together for so many years, Taehyung knows how to make his words sound sweet and enticing. And before you can even damn him for always catering to you and babying you, you’ve fallen asleep in his arms.

[Day Two] Breakfast is as incredible as dinner was. There’s a full fruit platter that’s apparently all organic and a number of carbohydrates to fill yourself all the way to lunch. But you begin to regret eating so much with the scheduled activity that follows. “Couples yoga is a way to build intimacy and trust with your partner.” Hyunjin and Jimin smile brilliantly and you wonder if they’re happy go lucky all the time. It must be fucking exhausting. “Taehyung.” You nudge the man beside you who’s intently listening and he turns his head. “You know I’m not flexible at all.” “Don’t worry.” He flashes a blazing grin. It’s way too early for this. “This is just for fun and I’ll catch you if anything.” “No. Last time I tried doing yoga, I pulled a muscle in my thigh—” “Oh look. They’re doing the first pose!” Your husband excitedly lugs you down and you’re forced to comply, crossing your legs and facing him. It’s simple at first. There are basic poses with him leaning against you. Although it is hard to find a good balance considering how tall Taehyung is and even for being lanky, he’s quite a bit stronger than you are. But when Hyunjin and Jimin begin to twist themselves around and Jimin holds her up by the feet with a single hand, you know it’s impossible. Unlike Taehyung, you never did cheerleading or any acrobatics. “You’re going to drop me or I’m going to snap your spine, Tae!” “Don’t you trust me?” You look at your half-monkey, half-clown of a husband. “Do you really want to know the truth?” The both of you collapse into a heaping mess before he can confirm or deny. He laughs and starts tickling you for not being able to listen until you’re begging him to stop before you look more like an idiot than you already do. There’s a few couples who do a good job and you giggle when Taehyung mutters passive aggressive comments on how they’re teacher’s pets or that their form is awful. But there’s the fair share of other pairs who do as bad as you, namely Seokjin and Dahyun, the old couple from last night, bickering at being unable to do any poses. You can’t say that couple’s yoga is particularly relaxing, but it’s silly and you find yourself having fun. Hyunjin leads the cool down exercise and Taehyung nearly whacks you in the head with how he stretches. Your glare gains his exaggerated pout then cheesy smile. “Now as the very last cool down exercise, we’re going to take our partners by the hand.” You mimic her and clasp Taehyung’s hands, awaiting further instructions. “And we’re going to gaze into their eyes.” What? “Focus into the colour of their irises, how brown or blue or green they might be, or even the pattern of them. Sometimes we don’t truly look at one another like we should.” “What are they even saying?” you mutter and the corner of Taehyung’s mouth twitches. In spite of how bizarre it is, you follow and stare into Taehyung’s rounded eyes. They’re brown. Like they’ve always been. But you must admit, when the morning sunlight catches his irises at particular angles, the colour is a lighter shade than usual. They’re quite bright too. “They say if we gaze into the eyes of someone we love, our heartbeat synchronizes together.” What? Your brows furrow skeptically and you’re about to turn away, but suddenly Taehyung grabs a hold of your chin. “Don’t look away,” he commands with an authoritative voice and you swallow hard. “Okay.” You focus your eyes to enlarge and focus. “I’m looking.” You wonder if this is a staring contest, but even with his wolfish smile and being married for so long, Taehyung’s intent stare starts to make you feel vulnerable. You wonder if he’s always looked at you so affectionately. More importantly, you realize that even with all his dumb antics — like deciding to paint the fence green and then stopping halfway or ripping out the cabinets in the kitchen and never replacing them like he intended �� you still love this sweet and kind dummy. “Alright. Everyone can relax now,” Jimin announces softly as he claps and you finally blink a few times, eyes stinging from how you forced them open. “That’s the end of this session. Thank you for joining everyone.” Yet, Taehyung holds your gaze a moment longer. And before you can pipe up and tell him it’s over, the man leans in and presses a soft kiss to your lips. He smiles when he pulls away. “As much as sweat is a good look on you, I think it’s time to shower, Mrs. Kim.” You scoff and he holds your hand with an enormous grin, dragging you back to the yurt. The two of you hop into the shower together, a habit that Taehyung insists is to save water for the good of the environment, but you swear half the time, you end up wasting more than if either of you do it separately. You’re sure that right now is one of those times. “Hey.” You turn around as he’s lathering up his shampoo. “Hey, yourself.” He smiles and shifts towards the stream of water before screaming at how hot it is. Taehyung quickly adjusts it, dissipating the fog on the glass. “Why do you like bathing in molten lava, woman?” “You always make it too cold.” You scoff, but don’t dwell on the argument as you lean into his backside. “Listen, should we get a quickie in?” Taehyung frees himself of the soap and looks at you. “If we do, we’ll miss lunch and then the hike.” “We’re going on a hike?!” “Yep, so hurry up cause if we don’t get lunch, we’re not gonna make it!” He gets out of the shower, leaving you to be bludgeoned by the ice, cold water. You sigh in exasperation. The purpose of coming here is to conceive, not go on a hike. But with how enthused he is, you begrudgingly join. Afternoons are the worst out here. The sun is sweltering and there isn’t an ounce of a breeze or a wind. As a result, the heat stifles and lingers without dissipating, causing sweat to dampen your clothing and stick to the back of your neck. The weather exhausts you and you feel your creamy lunch pasta up your throat again as you lug your legs up the steep, rocky incline. No matter how much you try to keep up, you fall behind from the group. Taehyung twirls around with a big grin, mouth perfectly symmetrically. “Are you okay?” “W-What does it look like?” you pant. It’s unfair that Taehyung works out once a year and treats his body like a candy trashcan but is still more fit than you are. “I can carry you if you want.” “You’re going to snap in half carrying me.” You pass him as he laughs. You hear him catch up, feet skipping along like he’s playing hopscotch. Then suddenly, you feel yourself being lifted off the ground and you shriek, arms looping around Taehyung’s neck. You’re scooped up in his arms like he’s about to kick down the door into the bedroom, but instead, he starts sprinting up the path like a maniac. “Taehyung!” you squeal and he laughs again. “Isn’t this better?” “Aren’t you tired?” “If I say yes, you’re gonna think I’m trying to tell you to lose weight, but for the record, I like how soft you are.” You roll your eyes, embarrassed as you pass a few couples, but none of them seem to find it bizarre and they even smile warmly at you and Taehyung. Yet, he starts to slow down tremendously after a few minutes, panting and sweating profusely. You ask him if he’s going to put you down yet, but you underestimate just how stubborn your dear husband is. Taehyung refuses until you’re up at the top of the trail, making it to where Jimin and Hyunjin are by the waterfall. There, you’re finally on set on your feet again. You pass him your water bottle. “Drink it before I’m the one dragging you down.” He grins and downs it. Up here, it’s much more refreshing and easier to breathe. There’s a tiny waterfall coming from the higher mountains and there are trees around to provide shade. When you squint, you can see the campsite at a distance with all the yurts. “We should take some pictures!” Taehyung declares when he steadies his breath and pulls out his selfie stick from the hideous fanny pack that you still won’t admit is pretty convenient. “Your mom is gonna want a copy so don’t pull any ugly faces, Tae.” “My face is never ugly.” He tugs you beside him and snaps a few shots before reviewing them carefully. Taehyung always had an eye for these kinds of things. “We didn’t get a good angle of the water.” “I can take it for you.” “What’s the point if we’re not together?” His thick brows are furrowed, lips lopsided, sighing. A matronly and friendly voice pipes up next to you, “Do you need any help?” Dahyun is smiling with Seokjin beside her and Taehyung appears relieved. “Yes, please.” She takes his phone as he folds back his selfie stick and she stands off to the side, capturing you and Taehyung smiling with his arm around you. “One. Two. Three. I’ll take another one.” Dahyun changes the angle a bit and Taehyung leans over to pull on your cheek while you feign a glare at him. The second picture is taken while the woman and her husband laugh, endeared. “There we go. You can check them to see if they’re good.” The phone is handed back and by Taehyung’s expression, it seems acceptable. “You two are too cute. When did you get married?” “Oh, I think three years ago? Yeah. Three.” It’s much longer than it actually feels. It seemed like it was a week ago when you first met in class and thought he was annoying. Like yesterday, he was supposed to propose at a fancy restaurant but failed when you found the ring box the night before — how he screamed at you to stop, but it was too late and he ended up going with it. They’ve all become memories that you cherish. “We met back in school and dated a while before getting married.” Dahyun smiles. “Have you decided how many kids you want yet?” You hitch a thumb to Taehyung. “He wants four, but I’m fine with two.” “The bigger the family, the better, right?” he says, looking up from the screen of his phone. “Wait until you have kids, you’ll end up wanting more,” Seokjin chuckles, “That or you’ll want to give them all away, but personally, I could raise a whole football team if she’d let me.” His wife jabs him in the ribs. “Yeah, because you’re not the one who has to give birth to them.” “And that’s why you’re the boss of the house.” He pouts at her while the corners of his mouth tickle up into a smile, and she relents. “Let’s be honest, the real boss of the house is our little troublemaker. I swear he took after all your bad traits.” Seokjin gasps. “Excuse me, Youngjae is my most masterful creation...even if he painted all over our leather seats and popped our car tire with his batman toy.” She shakes her head with a light sigh, but it’s hard to hide her beaming expression. “I should’ve known he would give me trouble when he went past the due date for two weeks.” “T-two weeks?” you sputter. Dahyun nods, finally having the sympathy she was trying to fish out of her husband. “My stomach was as big as a watermelon and I was in labour for fourteen hours before I ended up getting an emergency c-section and he came out a whopping ten pounds.” Your head is swirling as you try to imagine a ten pound baby in this petite woman. It almost seems like a horror story that’s waiting to be picked up by Hollywood. “But honestly, the hardest part wasn’t the whole pregnancy or birthing process. It was afterwards.” Her exhale is long and fatigued. “Suddenly there’s another human being you’re responsible for and you have to take care of them while you’re still in recovery. I remember when Youngjae couldn’t stop crying in the middle of the night. I always had an idea that having kids was a lot of work, but you really don’t have time for yourself once they’re born, and not to mention my bladder was completely done for after the whole thing.” “Alright, alright.” Her husband pulls her close. “I already know you’re a woman warrior. I saw it with my own eyes.” Dahyun smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes and she turns to him, deadpanning, “No, you didn’t. You passed out half-way.” “I was there in spirit,” Seokjin insists humorously. Dahyun scoffs while Taehyung grins at their back and forth that’s reminiscent of his own dynamic with you. “But were they worth it?” “Oh, a thousand percent,” Dahyun responds without needing a second to consider, expression softening. “Enough that I would want to do it all over again.” She doesn’t get a chance to say much else when Jimin’s voice pierces through the chatter and everyone gathers together with the last stragglers who have finally made it up. “Thank you, everyone, for coming all the way up here. This is Serenity Falls that was actually…” But his voice drowns out. You linger on what Dahyun said, about child rearing and birthing, and there’s nothing that can be done to the uneasy emotion swelling inside of you. The walk back down is silent. Done without a single complaint from you about the hot weather or how your feet ache. Taehyung notices, glancing at you several times. He doesn’t say anything until you’re back at the yurt. “What’s wrong?” You look at him from across the room. “Nothing, why?” “You’ve just been quiet.” “I just….” You inhale and decide to divulge him. “I was just thinking about what Dahyun and Seokjin were saying. Do you think we’re cut out for this, Taehyung?” His head quirks to one side. “Why wouldn’t we be?” “You and I can barely take care of ourselves.” “That’s not true.” “We forget to buy food all the time.” “That makes midnight snack runs fun.” He grins. You exhale an unsteady breath and Taehyung approaches you. He doesn’t mind how sweaty you are and wraps his arms around your waist. “We’ll figure it out. You said it yourself, right? One step at a time.” “But what if it’s too much and you decide you don’t want to do it anymore? Or that...you don’t want to be with me?” He opens his mouth, but you keep going before he can jump in. It’s not just about you being self-conscious or needing reassurance. You’re simply trying to imagine the worst case scenario as realistically as you can. “Like when I’m still bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do.” “I’ll still love you no matter the changes,” Taehyung murmurs earnestly, searching your expression. “Even if you’re bloated like a whale and in a bad mood and the baby’s crying and no one knows what to do. I’ll use google to figure it out and get the baby to calm down and I’ll get you some chocolate and I’ll rub your feet.” You scoff lightly. “You make it sound so easy.” “Maybe because it won’t be as hard as you think. I’m great with kids and we got killer teamwork, you know, plus this baby’ll be the best project we’ve ever done together.” “A project that’s gonna last us eighteen years.” You smile. Taehyung laughs, the sound mellifluous in the room. “Which isn’t that long considering how fast time moves.” You hum and encircle your arms around his neck. Taehyung gets the hint and leans in to seal your lips against his, slotting them together to kiss you the way he knows you like it. It’s slow, comforting, an opportunity to revel in the softness of his lips. Taehyung gives you courage — he always has and when you break apart, smiling against each other, you feel worlds better than before. “I’m gonna start a bubble bath. You can join me if you want.” It’s less of a suggestion and more of a demand, one Taehyung fully recognizes and makes him smile in amusement as you saunter away. Taking advantage of the tub in the bathroom, you lower the stopper of the drain and dump in the soap they offer. The water gets filled three quarters way with a layer of bubbles and you strip. You sigh as you get comfortable in the tub. “Is it warm?” Your husband leans against the doorway, arms crossed and the corner of his mouth curled. “Uh-huh.” You loll your head on the edge of the tub and lift up your foot, watching the way the water cascades off your skin. “Are you not going to get in?” “Maybe later,” Taehyung surprisingly replies. He rarely rejects any chance at jumping your bones when you’re being this forward about it. There’s no hike or lunch to catch that’s preventing him from having fun with you either. But as your husband walks out, you catch him unceremoniously stealing the clothes you have prepared and the stack of towels by the sink. “What are you doing?” “There’s no point in covering yourself up if I’m gonna strip you anyway.” He flashes a mischievous grin and you sigh, relenting in his antics. You simply lay back to enjoy the water, muscles relaxing and your brain that’s constantly in overdrive empties. After ten minutes, your skin begins to wrinkle, so you drain the water and get out. But the moment you stand up, the cool air conditioning slams into you and your body starts to shiver. “Taehyung!” you shout and hear silence. “At least give me a towel!” Fortunately for you, there’s a smaller one on the rack he missed so you swipe at it and wrap your shoulders to protect yourself. But you’re still dripping wet and in need of your clothes, so you stomp out to find your ridiculous partner who’s apparently five years old and— “HA!” Said man you’re searching for bursts out of the closet and you scream, startled half to death, nearly falling to the ground. Taehyung starts to laugh like a maniac. “Are you serious?!” You gawk at him. “How long did you even wait there for?” “Like five minutes ago.” The bastard wolfishly grins. “Worth it though.” You cock a brow at him, sighing. “So that’s why you didn’t join me in the bath?” “No. I didn’t join you, so I could do this.” He yanks the towel where your breasts meet, leaving you nude. Goosebumps rise all over your skin and your nipples harden in the frigid air. You screech, arms trying to cover yourself. “Taehyung, it’s cold!” “I can warm you up,” he says but then runs away when he reads the glare on your face, giggling boyishly. It’s completely childish. If anyone was watching, you’d be mortified, but it’s been a long time since there was any shame in your marriage, so you stomp after him while nude. You hunt the man down while he tries to evade by rounding the coffee table. It’s no longer about grabbing clothes or covering yourself up, it’s time for revenge. Luckily, the yurt isn’t big enough to have a game of tag. You manage to reach him and you steal the opportunity to yank his pants down. Taehyung, mid-laugh, trips on his feet and stumbles on the carpet. You burst out giggles, looking at his ass in the air and he giggles too from the infectious sound bubbling up your throat. “Oh, you’re gonna get it now,” He mutters in a low voice with half-lidded eyes and you scramble away with another shriek. “You started it!” You jump onto the bed and Taehyung kicks off his pants. You don’t ask why he’s skipped out on wearing boxers, but you notice he’s already half-hard and that only makes you laugh louder. He chases after you as you duck and steal his own tactic of rounding the coffee table. But unfortunately for you, Taehyung has always been destined to win with his longer legs. He catches you within two strides and snatches you as you scream. You’re thrown over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes and he smirks. “Caught you.” “Taehyung! People are gonna hear!” You laugh in spite of being the one who’s making most of the noise and he tosses you onto the bed. Usually, you hate to be manhandled, but your husband’s the only exception to the rule. “Let them hear.” He hovers over you and the laughter dies down. Taehyung stares earnestly into your eyes and your breathing becomes shallow. But you don’t like to lose and as his wife of three years, you know his one, true weakness. Your fingers lift to Taehyung’s armpits and he seizes when you start tickling him. You laugh when he does and once he doubles over, there’s an opening to the left, a perfect escape route. You steal the opportunity while you still have it and start to climb off the bed, but he regains his breath and grabs your ankle, tugging you back to him in one swift motion without even needing to try. Taehyung grins. “God, you’re such a brat sometimes.” “Yeah, and I know you like it.” He grabs your wrists before you can make another tickle attack and pins it above your head. You can tell that there’s no more time for jokes or any more playing around, not when you can feel his hard cock against your stomach. “You smell good,” he sighs into your neck, inhaling deeply. “Cherry blossom? Peony?” “Strawberries,” you answer. “You smell like sweat.” “You’re gonna end up like me anyway.” Taehyung smiles and leans in to kiss you. It isn’t shy or chaste. His tongue licks into your mouth and you exhale, a strangled moan muffled against his lips as you melt against him. He finally has you where he wants and you let him take control. The pair of you swap spit for a few minutes until he releases your hands, allowing you to curl your fingers into his shoulders as he caresses your waist. Taehyung eventually breaks away with a playful glint in his eyes. “You wanna try the toys?” You both look at the basket half across the room and he rolls off of you. You get to your feet to inspect it for yourself and discover an array of colourful gadgets, some that you’ve tried before and others that you’re sure needs to have an instruction manual with it. “I’m not putting any of these dildos in me, Tae. I don’t know where they’ve been.” “I know.” He lays with his head propped up by his hand and you eye something at the bottom of the basket. You pull out a leather whip and look at him. “Ooh, a classic pick there, sweetheart.” A whip seems more sanitary considering it doesn’t have to go in anyone’s orifices. “Is it?” You approach with a tiny smile, staring down the innocent man. “Roll over.” “What?” “I’ll whip you.” You grin and he blinks at you. More often than not, you’re the more submissive one in bed, but the idea of having Taehyung crying out and the idea of you cackling at his pain has him immediately rolling face down in intrigue and you stepping up on the bed. He turns his face to the side. “Do you know how to do it?” “How hard can it be?” There’s a pause. “But tell me if it hurts.” “The point is to make it hurt, Y/N.” “Yeah, but I don’t want to hurt you-hurt you.” “I can handle it.” Taehyung smirks and you scoff. Even in this position, he’s trying to maintain his dominance. You grip it tightly and don’t count. Simply, with a flick your wrist, you slam the whip across his backside. It makes a loud cracking sound and you hear Taehyung sharply inhale. His teeth grit and you freeze, watching his expression carefully. “How was it?” “Is my back split open?” he asks, trying to look over his shoulder. “No.” “I think I might have to go to the ER.” He sits up completely, overdramatic in the way he fumbles around and his tone filled with some mischief. “I think there’s internal bleeding. Or my spine is broken. I wouldn’t be surprised.” “It’s fine, Tae.” you laugh. So much for telling you to go for it. But you already had an inkling Taehyung wasn’t one for receiving pain. After all, he’s still your whiny baby who only eats vanilla yogurt. “Not your thing?” “Not my thing.” He takes the whip from your hand and tosses it across the room. “I have a better toy in mind.” You’re about to remind him you’re not gonna put any of those communal toys inside of you, but he instead walks over to his suitcase and starts tearing some clear packaging open with something pink inside. You read the label — it’s a remote control vibrating egg. Your brows furrow. “When did you get that?” “Two days before we left. Amazon prime, babe.” “So that’s what you were looking at when you told me you were doing some online shopping?” “Precisely.” Taehyung grins and you’re not sure if you should be pleasantly surprised or in dismay since the two of you have already made a pact not to buy anything else online. The treadmill bought on an impulse is still taking up half the space of the living room. Before you can think too much, Taehyung gets it open and comes over. He nudges your thighs to open and you lay back, leaning against the headboard. You’re not that wet yet, if at all, but it doesn’t stay that way when his long fingers rub against your clit in circles. With his other hand, he strokes against your slit and then sinks his index finger in knuckle deep. You throw back your head, moaning his name at the intrusion while he remains silent, intently watching your pink cunt squeeze. Taehyung curls his finger and swallows hard. The sloppy sounds of your cunt fill the room and he hums in satisfaction. “Okay. Ready?” “Uh-huh.” The head of the cold egg meets your folds and it slowly enters. While the toy might not be big or long, the girth stretches against your warm walls and you keen. Taehyung makes a low noise, encouraging you to take it. When it’s in, he smiles brilliantly. “Good job, sweetheart. You did it.” “Now what?” “This, of course.” Taehyung dangles the remote in front of you and then like a psycho, he ramps it up to the highest possible setting. Intense vibrations are felt through your body instantaneously and you cry, head knocked back against the headboard as your velvet walls squeeze and tremble. “T-Taehyung!” “Good?” “I-It’s too much!” You’re completely at his mercy and he takes advantage of it, drinking you in with a wolfish smile. You’re unable to muster a glare at him, reduced to a complete mess while your center leaks and drips onto the sheet. Still, you try to reach over to the remote. He dodges when you lunge at him. “Nu-uh.” Luckily, you get a hold of your husband and climb over to him. His arm is extended straight up, laughing as you try to snatch it from him. He waves it inches away to mock you while enjoying the sight of you quivering on top of him. “T-Tae!” “Okay, okay.” He laughs and transfers it into his other hand, about to turn the setting down a notch. But right at the moment you’re about to snag it for yourself, the remote flies out of his hand. It falls through the gap between the wall and the headboard. It clatters to the ground. “Oh shit.” “Taehyung!” “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He rolls off the mattress and looks underneath the bed before abruptly standing. “I’m going to need a long stick or something.” He starts to look around the room, searching for a tool to grab the remote that’s out of reach, and you don’t know if you should suffocate him with a pillow or facepalm yourself hard enough to get knocked out into a coma. You can pull out the egg yourself, but the violent vibrations were beginning to thrum pleasure through you, so as your useless husband goes fishing for the remote, you finish the job. Your fingers play with your clit, rubbing the bud as your slick drips down your thighs and you come hard on the toy. The same moment light flashes beneath your eyelids and your toes curl, Taehyung grabs the remote with the help of a rolled brochure and shuts it off. The both of you are winded for different reasons. “You know, I'd say that was pretty hot if not for how stressful that actually was.” “You’re an idiot.” You tug the toy out of you and bat him over lazily, feeling spent on how hard you came. “Now dump some sperm in me, idiot.” Taehyung has a cheesy grin and climbs over you. Despite the struggles of grabbing the toy’s remote, he’s fully hard from the noises you were making. “I’d tell you to ask more nicely, but I’ll let it go.” He aligns the head of his weeping cock to your swollen cunt and leans his weight into you. He starts to push in and you whine, gripping his forearms. As wet as you are, Taehyung is still well-endowed — less girthy than the toy, but there’s a considerable length to him. When he bottoms out, you can feel him all the way to your throat. He tucks sweaty strands of hair behind your ear and kisses you. “Sorry about earlier.” “’t’s okay. It was fun,” you admit and he smiles, starting to work up a good rhythm. You feel hot in your face with the pressure of his body on top of yours, hardened nipples brushing against his chest. Your cunt pulses and squeezes around his length. It draws Taehyung’s groans into your neck. “F-Fuck. You’re so tight.” It feels good and you know he’s reveling in the pleasure too. His eyes are shut tight, the scrunch made between his brows and it entices you to reach up and kiss him to which he sweetly indulges you. Your tongues twine as you pant against each other and Taehyung starts to lose his pacing. He bends your knee, hitting you at a deeper angle as his strokes become increasingly frantic and quick. You egg him on and he groans once more before he thrusts himself as deep as he can go and cums. Ropes of white paint your walls, the head of his cock against your cervix and filling your cunt and womb up. You can feel some of it dribbling out, seeping past your folds and when Taehyung’s about to withdraw, you quickly grab his forearm. “Wait. Just stay put for a second. I have to keep it in.” He nods and kisses your lips. “Okay.” Taehyung nestles into you, nuzzling into your neck and you hope this is the one.

[Day Three] There were lots of activities and amenities offered and advertised by Jimin during the introduction of the retreat, but you realize you might’ve missed over the most important one of all. “How does that feel?” the massage therapist asks as she works a knot out of your shoulders and smooths your skin with the oil. “Amazing,” you murmur from the corner of your mouth, melted against the table. Couples massages were something you always scoffed at, but holy shit, it’s absolutely paradise. With the breeze blowing through the pitched tent and the glowing humidifier releasing a fresh scent, you’ve never been more relaxed as all the stiffness is worked out of you. You open your eyes to see Taehyung enjoying it as well — though not as much as you are since he’s quite ticklish. Sometimes, he squirms a bit too much and his massage therapist is at a loss of what to do. But when it’s all done, you feel like you’re in a new body. “Oh my god. I think I’m more flexible than before. Look, Tae!” You stretch your leg and he giggles at how happy your mood is. “If I knew you liked it this much, I would’ve signed us up for one at the spy near the gym.” Your eyes are wide, catching the sunlight. “Do you think they’re as good as this place?” Taehyung grins. “Probably.” “We should go when we get back then. Oh, do you wanna check out the library?” “Sure.” You grab his hand, lacing your fingers together and he smiles to himself. It’s a free day without many planned activities, giving you both an opportunity to look around the retreat for yourselves and take it easy. And the pair of you take full advantage of the opportunity. Since morning, you were lazing around the yurt and after breakfast and the massages, you decide to lay in one of the hammocks by the trees while Taehyung naps with you. Said man hasn't seen you this stress free in a while, so he happily indulges you in all your wishes. Even when night falls and you step away from the stage where Hyunjin is performing again to stargaze. It’s an odd activity for you since mosquitoes love to especially swarm around you when given the chance and on numerous occasions, you’ve been a moth landing spot. But tonight, the breeze is soft and gentle, and you don't feel any tickles on your skin that isn’t Taehyung’s hand grazing against yours. The grass is pliant beneath your feet and the fairy lights twinkle far away enough that its luminescence doesn’t obstruct. You knock your heads back to view the horizon, allowing the darkness to engulf you and the stars to emerge. “Remember Bali?” “When you lost your passport?” “When we went stargazing with the tour group,” Taehyung corrects. “It still wasn’t as beautiful as this.” “You think everything in front of you is the most beautiful thing you’ve seen. You said that about the Eiffel and then Tokyo Tower.” He laughs. “Hey, my mind doesn’t change that often. You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen.” You scoff, looking away from the sky towards him with a pout. He always knows how to lay on the sappiness without needing to blink. Your dear husband has always been shameless in that aspect and you adore him for it. “So I’m a thing to you now?” “You know that’s not what I mean.” He wraps his arms around your waist. The both of you stare up at the sky. “Is that the big dipper?” You look at where he’s pointing to the large clusters of stars. “I can’t see it. Maybe that’s scorpio.” “Nah, I don’t think so.” Taehyung tries guessing, “It might be taurus or gemini. Or libra.” “Aren’t you just naming astrological signs now?” “Maybe.” He grins. “I’m a capricorn.” “Yes, I know.” You two of you clearly don’t know anything about constellations or how to find them, but it doesn’t make the moment any less enjoyable. Yet when your necks start to ache, he takes your hand and strolls down the path through the trees. “Taehyung. What if we get lost?” None of you have your phones or any flashlights. There’s only the crescent moon giving off its light. “Don’t worry. I have a great sense of direction.” “You and I both know that’s not true.” “You have a great sense of direction, so we won’t get lost,” he says and you sigh without putting much of an argument up. Not when you knew he was headed to the lake you had peeked at earlier in the afternoon, and now it was shimmering with the moonlight, reflecting the starry horizon in its water. There’s a certain kind of peacefulness, a serenity that you would never get back in the city or even the suburbs. Certainly not without light pollution or the occasional car whizzing past. Here, there is none of those noises, none of those distractions, just you and Taehyung savouring the view⁠— “Hey.” But of course, your mischievous husband has to have ulterior motives for coming all the way here. And you know there are ulterior motives by that glint in his eye and the sly smile he has. “What?” “Wanna take a dip?” Your brows shoot to your hairline. “Are you crazy? It’s probably freezing! What if we get hypothermia and die?” “For the record, you’d make one beautiful angel. But I’ll warm you up before it gets to that point.” Taehyung grins and starts stripping, tugging his shirt right off his head. It’s always been like this — him proposing something out of your norm, you try to voice your concerns, and then you’re the one who’s diving head first into it without hesitation and end up having more fun than he does. “God, it’s so cold!” The moment the water touches your toes, you recoil. But you brace yourself and continue onward with your entire body shivering. It’s your first time skinny dipping ⁠— something normally reserved for rebellious teenagers and most certainly not for late twenty-some year olds. Yet neither of you have qualms, even if you’re shrieking and Taehyung is laughing and following behind you. “It’s freezing, Taehyung!” “Come here.” He pulls you to him so your backside is pressed to his front and you wonder how Taehyung can be so warm all the time. The pair of you get waist deep into it and you turn around to grip him. Your husband smiles and holds onto you, eventually going far enough that the water reaches your shoulders. “See? Isn’t this nice?” You hum, gazing up at the stars and the moon, the sight reflected on the water and how you’re pressed to Taehyung. “Seems like the beginning of a horror movie.” He laughs and your feet try to reach down to find stability, but you realize you can’t touch the ground anymore and your grip on him tightens. “Walk back a bit, Tae.” “Why?” “You know I can’t swim.” His mouth curls. “But I like how you’re holding onto me. I won’t let go,” he adds after a long pause, “if you beg me not to.” Your arms immediately come to loop around his neck and your legs wrap around his waist, latching onto him in a vice grip like a koala does to a branch. “Taehyung! I’m not kidding.” “Oh...oh!” The bastard pretends that he’s gonna let go of you and actually does for a split-second. He laughs at your panicked expression. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” You feign a pointed glare that turns out to be more of a pout. “You’re lucky I like you.” “You only like me?” “Yeah and if you keep going, I’m going to demote you from husband to friend.” Taehyung makes a pained, sharp sound. “Can’t let that happen then.” He suddenly hoists you up higher, grip secure on your thighs and smiles brilliantly while you scoff. You savour the view and the warmth of his body heat, but you’re slightly distracted. “Do you think anyone’s gonna steal our clothes, Tae?” You squint at the small pile near the shore. “Who would?” “I don’t know. What if a bear comes from the bushes and takes them? We’ll have to walk back naked.” “I’m pretty sure there aren’t bears here, Y/N. Stop overthinking it.” Taehyung suddenly grabs a hold of your chin and turns your head for you to look only at him. Then, he kisses you in a soft and gentle way before the tip of his tongue meets the seam of your lips. You happily oblige, parting them and allowing him access to your tongue and giving him a taste of you. The man hums in satisfaction as soft smacking noises fill the surroundings. You lean into his firm frame while Taehyung’s large hands slinks from your thigh to the curve of your ass. You feel his thumb probe against your folds. “T-Taehyung.” His hard length is beneath you and you grind down on him, feeling empty. It draws a groan from his throat. After a moment, you get his cock inside of you. The stretch soothes the itch you had, filling your cunt deliciously. But unlike the movies, it’s not enough for you. The water washes away the lubricant, each stroke rough and the glide slower than you’d like. So you beg him and the both of you are dragged up onto the shore again. You turn on all fours. The pebbles uncomfortably dig into your knees, but it’s a distraction that blurs into the background when Taehyung pounds into you. You feel all of him, his body heat against yours, each thrusting movement flicking off the droplets of water from your skin. And when Taehyung turns your head to kiss you while rubbing at your clit, you cum around his cock. He finishes as you beg for it and Taehyung’s sticky fluids leak down your thighs on the trek back.

[Day Four] Taehyung blinks blearily, slowly coming to consciousness. He scratches his bed head and groans at how his muscles ache. But when he turns his head, the other side of the bed is cold and empty. His eyes widen in confusion and he feels more awake than before. He checks the time and realizes he slept in, a total of ten hours, which isn’t a surprise considering how last night’s rendezvous continued and was more intense than usual. What is unusually, however, is that you’re gone. But he soon finds you outside. Bathing in the sun. Laying in a hammock. Napping with a book next to you. Your eyes flutter open as his shadow covers your figure. The corner of his mouth pulls. “Morning.” You sheepishly grin. “Morning.” “What time did you get up?” “Like an hour ago. The breeze was nice so I thought I’d do some reading, but I guess I accidentally fell asleep.” “Looks like you’ve gotten comfortable.” Taehyung’s enormous smile aches his cheeks. You’ve fallen in love with this place more than he has, but he doesn’t mind whatsoever. He loves watching you have fun. The two of you have breakfast, inhaling in the food, and then head to a meditation class on the grass led by Hyunjin. Typically, Taehyung has to convince you to take part in such a session and you’d usually wave it off as a waste of time. But there are no qualms or an ounce of hesitation in your expression when you head over. “Now breathe in, and out, a steady stream of breath. Think about all that you are grateful for. Everything that has made your life amazing, and let that positive energy surround you as the negative energy releases.” But while you’re eager, Taehyung, on the other hand, finds out that meditation is not cut out for him. He’s bored out of his mind from the lack of stimulation. Time feels like it’s dragging on slower, each second a minute and a minute is an hour. Somehow, meditating makes him feel even more exhausted than before and his mind ends up wandering. Taehyung thinks about how he’s really craving some fatty burgers instead of the organic oatmeal and yogurt he had — how hot the weather is — how it’s hard to breathe — how sweat sticks to his skin. “Hold your breath for three seconds and release for three seconds.” He sighs and peels back an eye to see you with your hands pressed together, concentrated in following instructions. The corner of his mouth tickles into a smile. As bored as he is, it’s worth seeing you happy. // The more excited you are about something, the more you run around from place to place and Taehyung’s resorted to looking for you. Luckily, the resort is small, so he finds you in front of the main building, chatting to a certain brunette with a half-moon smile and chubby cheeks. “—heard that doggy actually works for some people, but for me, it doesn’t feel right...like…” “The head of the cock isn’t right up against the cervix?” Jimin hums thoughtfully. “Have you tried angling your leg better? Sometimes you need to bend a bit and he needs to be leaning towards the side rather than just hovering straight on top.” What. Taehyung’s brows lift and he quickly approaches. Your face lights up when you see him. “Oh, hey.” “I was looking for you.” Taehyung throws his arm over your shoulder and subtly tugs you into his chest. He looks at the other man, eyes narrowed in on him which he doesn’t seem to notice. “Sorry, I was just caught up with Jimin.” “What were you talking about?” “What position is best for conception.” You blink innocently like it’s not a big deal you’re exploiting the details about your sex lives to another guy, and while he’s not embarrassed whatsoever, it was a bit too much information being shared for Taehyung’s liking. “Turns out elevating the hips might not help as much as we thought it does.” “Huh.” Taehyung deadpans, “That’s interesting.” “I know, right?” Your expression is bright, oblivious to his turmoil. At the same time, Hyunjin exits from the building in yet another flower crown and flowy skirt. She smiles at the both of you and joins Jimin’s side, planting a sweet kiss on his cheek and holding his hand. “Hope I wasn’t interrupting anything important.” You smile at her. “No, it’s okay.” The woman nods and looks to her partner while her voice drops into a more private tone. “Just wanted to let you know that Taehoon and I are done.” As if to validate her words, a timid yet tall man exits the building and they wave goodbye to one another before he walks off towards the parking lot. Jimin smiles. “Did you have fun?” “Yeah. It was nice.” Both you and Taehyung exchange expressions. He wonders if you’re thinking what he is or if he’s understanding the insinuations correctly. As if they catch the inquisitive looks on your faces, they smile in a relaxed way. There’s no need to explain anything to either of you when you’re strangers, but they’re open enough and Hyunjin says, “Taehoon’s my second partner.” “Second...partner?” “Hyunjin and I are in an open relationship,” Jimin clarifies in a friendly manner. “It’s not really traditional, but it works well for us.” “Oh.” Taehyung and you wordlessly bob your heads. He’s pretty sure they mentioned it during their introduction but it slipped his mind. They must get asked a lot of questions too since Hyunjin answers what he’s thinking, telling the both of you there’s not a lot of jealousy involved since they trust each other wholeheartedly and communicate a lot. And rather than finding it bizarre, you’re left intrigued. Taehyung notices as you walk away. “Do you want an open relationship too?” “You know it would never work for us.” You lean over, hugging his arm. “I’m too possessive for that.” He laughs. “Then what about talking to Jimin about our sex positions?” “He’s a professional.” You shrug. “I thought I could get helpful advice. Why?” “Nothing, it’s just kind of weird.” Jimin doesn’t look like a professional. He looks like just some dude in khaki shorts and a white shirt, obnoxiously bulging biceps, probably has rock hard abs, and he’s in an open relationship and clearly doesn’t mind chatting up you, aka Taehyung’s wife. “Are you jealous?” “What? No.” Taehyung scoffs, suddenly defensive and you give him that look like you know him better than that. “I just don’t think we don’t need to ask for help yet, and at least not about our positions. We’re gonna have a baby one way or another, Y/N. We just have to be patient.” “Tell that to my dying eggs.” You walk off and Taehyung grins. “My sperm’s strong enough that it’ll rescue your dying eggs.” // Evening eventually comes and you try to revel in the surrounding sights, the atmosphere of the entire place and the very cozy yurt you’ve grown to adore. It’s sad knowing that tomorrow you’ll have to depart from the resort. You regret not coming here with a more open mind. That way, you could’ve enjoyed and embraced this place much sooner. “Actually, I’m kind of glad. I’m getting sick of them serving the same food.” You’re shocked at your husband’s apathy. “But it’s antioxidant-rich—” “I just want some fried chicken or a burger.” You scoff. “That’s why the doctor told you to lower your blood sugar and you’re not even over forty yet.” But still, you’re taken aback that he’s not in love with the resort. “Out of everyone, I thought this would’ve been your haven. I was expecting you to beg me to build a cabin here or something to stay.” Taehyung hums, leaning back into the chair. “I’m not saying the resort is bad. As long as I get to spend time with you, I like it. And I like that you like it.” “Psh.” He always knows how to say the right thing, especially when he’s doing it absentmindedly and not trying to get something out of you. You lean over, hand lifting to squeeze his cheeks together and you turn his head to kiss him. Taehyung smiles at the soft and affectionate gesture. But you look at him with half-lidded eyes that mean more. “Wanna ditch?” It’s the final celebration that Jimin and Hyunjin are happily hosting, but you don’t mind leaving for some more quality time with Taehyung, and he happily agrees. The both of you sneak out of the crowd, stumbling back into the yurt, giggly and giddy like you’re still teenagers trying to be stealthy at midnight. Taehyung kisses you silly and soon, your back is hitting the mattress. He almost rips your dress with how hastily he tries to tear it off your head and you’re stuck for a moment until you manage to get it off. But in spite of how childish your antics are or how Taehyung blows raspberries on your tummy, each one of his touches is intimate and loving. He holds your hips down and eats you out until you cum twice. Then you’re flipped onto your stomach with him on top of you — his cock is dug into your pussy, every draw and thrust delicious. Your walls pulse along his length and you moan his name and clutch the sheets with tight fists. You relish in the pressure of his body pressed on top of yours as he pounds into you. It only takes a few minutes before he’s releasing into your womb, cumming hard enough that you feel it too. He rolls off of you, spent, but you gather your energy and hold him down for a second round. You’re a woman on a mission and you’re going to make sure you leave this resort with Kim Taehyung’s baby inside of you.

[Day Five] The final day of the resort has arrived much to your dismay, and you feel sad enough to cry. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done.” “It’s our pleasure.” Hyunjin grins, her arms wrapped around Jimin’s. “We just hope you had a great time at our resort.” “Yes, I really loved it.” “Our doors are always open,” Jimin affirms. “If nothing’s stuck, you can always come back or if you’re ever looking for more siblings for the little one, you can come again too. We’re happy to welcome anyone that’s family back.” You’re moved by their words and much to Taehyung’s dismay, you give a brief embrace to each of them. You also manage to see the newlywed couple, Hoseok and Rose, who are still smiling and somehow look even more in-love than when they arrived. Dahyun and Seokjin, as well, wish you luck on your adventures. “We might be coming back real soon.” The woman sighs, hitching her thumb over her shoulder. “That husband of mine is planning to book another trip next month.” “So soon?” Dahyun nods with a long exhale. “I think he’s hoping I’m not pregnant so we can come here again.” Your laugh spurs on her own and you’re able to resonate with the hopelessness of husbands. Everyone is boarding the same bus, but this is the last opportunity to gather when people are getting dropped off from different places. So you make sure to savour the moment, get your last goodbyes in, and Taehyung pulls out his phone to snap several pictures of you for keepsakes. Then, the two of you board the bus with your luggage and settle in your seats. “You know,” you pipe up and Taehyung turns to you. “Even if we didn’t conceive, it was still fun.” He smiles while taking his hand. “Yeah? I’m glad.” Taehyung laces his fingers with yours and you lean your head on his shoulder as he, too, leans his head on top of yours. The bus pulls out of the lot and onto the road. Jimin and Hyunjin wave with brilliant grins, and together, you and Taehyung watch the little resort become a particle in the distance.

[Epilogue] This is terrible. Unexpected and spontaneous. “I have bad news.” You’re leaning against the door frame of Taehyung’s office and at your tone of voice, your husband looks away from the computer screen with wide eyes. “Are you divorcing me?” “No.” “Did you lose your job?” “No.” His entire body deflates in a sigh of relief and he leans back, hands grasping the armrests of his swivel chair. “Thank god because I just bought those new shake weights that were shown on TV.” “Yea— wait. What?” Taehyung’s bubbling laughter comes from his chest. “What is it?” He doesn’t notice the stick in your hand, so you throw it at him. Luckily, Taehyung’s reflexes are still in good shape and he claps his hands together, catching the stick before it hits his head. But then his brows furrow in confusion. “You’re probably going to need to wash your hands after that. I peed on it.” He doesn’t answer. Your oblivious husband instead takes a long second to inspect the stick and his pupils dilate. He finally realizes what it is and looks carefully. In the meanwhile, you hitch your breath, feeling unsettled. But then the most enormous smile stretches into his cheeks. It almost looks like his smile is about to break his face. “You’re pregnant,” Taehyung murmurs. “I sure am.” He looks at you. And then the stick. Then he looks at you again. Taehyung searches your expression in alarm as your words echo back to him. “Why is this bad news? D-did you change your mind? Do you not want kids?” You shake your head. “No. This is fantastic news. I just wanted an excuse to go to the retreat again.” He laughs and exhales a long breath. Taehyung scoots his chair over using the heels of his feet and comes to you. He throws his arms around your torso in a secure embrace while his ear is pressed gently to the flat plane of your stomach that’ll soon swell in the coming months. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, woman.” Taehyung’s brown eyes are lit with mirth and you ease into his hug as your fingers comb through his dark locks. Finally, you’re going to be parents. After waiting and hoping for so long, it was now on the horizon. There’s a sense of fear in you both, but you’re overwhelmed with euphoria and excitement. “We can always go back for the next kid.” “I haven’t even had this one yet and you’re already thinking of another.” “I can’t help it.” Taehyung grins, looking up at you and you lean down to kiss his smile. You have a feeling this baby’s going to be loved beyond belief.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fluff #FINALLY i can use the smut tag again looooool #BTS TAEHYUNG AS A SWEET GUY WHO'S NOT AS SWEET IN THE SHEETS #AND OC AS A GRUMBLING SIMP FOR HER HUSBAND

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set-phasers-to-whump · 3 years ago

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sticks and stones may break my bones but...

prompt: “who did this to you?”

whumpee: nick burkhardt

fandom: grimm

hi here is my second nick fic of the month, this one is hopefully better than the first lol. it’s set well before the show starts, when nick is still very new to being a detective and has fairly recently met hank. i hope you enjoy!

Nick is in the middle of digging through his freezer for something suitable to use as an icepack when there’s a knock at the door. He startles, bangs his head against the freezer door, slams it shut like it’s done him a personal wrong, and trudges to the door, silently cursing whoever is on the other side.

He looks through the peephole, ready to call out that he’s not interested in whatever product or ideology is being peddled, but is cut short by the sight of a familiar face - Hank.

He opens the door, tilting the left side of his face away so it won’t be directly in Hank’s line of sight.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks.

Hank shrugs. “You said you didn’t have anything to do tonight,” he explains. “I don’t either, and there’s a Timbers game at 7. Figured we could watch together. I brought food,” he offers, holding up a paper bag.

That’s...actually really nice. If this were any other night, Nick would’ve accepted enthusiastically, but as it is, he just says, “sure,” and opens the door wider, gesturing for Hank to come in.

They quickly settle onto the couch, Nick making sure to stay on Hank’s left side, carefully resting his chin on his hand to cover as much of the bruising and scrapes on his face as he possibly can.

For the first half, everything is fine. Nick has a headache, but it’s not too bad as long as he doesn’t stare too intently at the TV. Hank’s snacks are good, the conversation is sparse and easy, and Portland is ahead with one goal.

At half time, Hank asks where the bathroom is, and when he comes back Nick has leaned his head back against the top of the couch cushion, eyes closed, trying to ignore the way the left side of his face is aching.

“Hey,” Hank says, and Nick startles for the second time that night. He quickly repositions his head, tilting his face down in the hopes of hiding his injuries, but Hank is too observant for that.

“What happened to you?” he asks, and Nick brushes him off.

“It’s nothing.”

Hank’s fingers touch the underside of Nick’s chin, lifting his face. Nick doesn’t bother to try and fight him off - he knows he’s not going to win. Hank looks concerned, which Nick supposes is fair. He knows how he looks. Black eye, scrapes, a bruise on his jaw. Nothing very pleasant to see.

“This isn’t nothing,” Hank says, fingertips ghosting over the bruising on Nick’s skin. “Who did this to you?”

Nick shakes his head, forces himself to lean away from the touch. He’s not going to tell Hank what happened. He himself is not even completely sure what had happened, to be honest.

Hank looks irritated, but doesn’t push. He just stands up, sticking out his hand in a silent invitation. Nick takes it, lets himself get pulled to his feet.

“I assume you have some kind of first-aid kit?”

He nods. “Under the bathroom sink.”

Hank disappears, and a second later reappears with the first-aid kit in his hands. “You got somewhere with decent lighting?”

They end up in his kitchen, sitting at a small table pushed against the wall. Hank has dragged his chair around the table so the two of them are sitting less than a foot apart, which Nick thinks should probably feel more awkward than it does.

Hank does what Nick would have been doing by himself tonight. He cleans out the shallow scrapes on Nick’s face with a stinging antibacterial spray, presses a bandage to the one that Nick knows is a bit deeper and wider than the others. He manages to locate a soft ice pack in the far recesses of Nick’s freezer, and Nick holds it against his face, propping his elbow on the table and leaning into the cold material.

“What happened?” Hank asks, placing an ibuprofen into Nick’s unoccupied hand. Nick glares at it, then at Hank, who just stares back with a very unimpressed look on his face.

“It’s nothing,” Nick repeats, swallowing the pill so he’ll have an excuse to not say anything else.

“It’s not nothing,” Hank counters, “and you need to tell me who did this to you and why so I can -”

“I don’t need you to do anything, okay?” Nick snaps, which is maybe a little harsh but also, he thinks, true. He drops the ice pack and stands up, although he doesn’t really know what he’s going to do - he can’t exactly walk out, this is his apartment.

“I know you don’t need me to do anything for you,” Hank says patiently, not getting up, “but we’re partners. We’re supposed to do things for each other. We’re supposed to trust each other. C’mon, man, at least tell me what happened.”

Nick relents, less because he actually wants to and more because standing up so suddenly has made his headache spike in intensity and he’d really like to sit back down. “I got punched.”

There’s a moment of silence. “And?” Hank prompts, when it becomes clear Nick isn’t going to say anything else.

“And nothing. It’s no big deal.”

“Anything that leaves you bruised and bloody automatically falls under the heading of ‘big deal.’”

Nick shakes his head, pressing the ice pack back against his face. “Hank, I swear, it’s -”

“If you say ‘fine’ one more time I’m going to take you to the precinct and lock you in a holding cell.”

Nick senses he’s not going to be able to get Hank to stop. “If I tell you what happened, you have to swear not to do anything about it,” he says. Making Hank promise him feels a bit childish, but he really doesn’t need anyone else knowing about this and he definitely doesn’t want the guy who punched him thinking that Nick can’t fend for himself. He’s new, he has a lot to prove, and, as he’s recently realized, a lot to learn about how this job actually works.

“Yeah, sure,” Hank agrees.

“It was Robertson,” Nick mumbles, half hoping Hank won’t be able to understand him.

Hank’s eyes widen. “Robertson. The guy from evidence lockup?”

Nick nods. “I...I honestly don’t know what I did. I had a question about the knife we found on Thursday, and I wanted to ask if I could see it, and then he started talking about protocol and I interrupted to ask him a question and he just sort of lost it. I hit him back and he stopped, really suddenly, and told me to get out of there.” He shrugs. “Maybe he was just having a bad day, I don’t know. He seems like a nice enough guy normally.”

Hank looks like he wants to punch something, so Nick quickly reminds him of his promise.

“That was before I knew our coworker did this to you,” Hank protests, but Nick shakes his head forcefully, reaches out and grabs hold of Hank’s arm.

“It’s okay, Hank. I’ll talk to him myself on Monday, figure out what happened, work things out. It’ll be fine. I’m still new, you know? I’ve got a lot to learn about how things work around here.”

Hank still doesn’t look happy, but he nods, and Nick releases his arm. He glances out to the living room, where the score is still 1-0. “You up for finishing the game?”

Hank nods again, then stands up and offers Nick his hand, just as he’d done several minutes before. Nick again takes it, holding on for a little bit longer than is strictly necessary as he waits for the pounding in his head to die down to a reasonable level. They make their way back to the couch and sit down as Portland takes a corner kick.

“Thank you,” Nick says, after a few minutes of easy silence.

“Of course,” Hank responds immediately. “This is what partners do.”

thanks for reading this! i hope you enjoyed :)

#whumptober2021 #no.3 #who did this to you?#grimm #fic #nick burkhardt #beat up #bruised #my writing #i say things #i had fun writing this i hope you liked it! have a good evening or whatever time

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lilsuzn · 4 years ago

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MLQC Victor - NSFW abc headcanons (REMASTERED)

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice

Warnings: Explit sexual content (GN READER)

it's what I posted a while ago, but better - I changed some things, I deleted some thing and wrote new. I think it's much better now

A = Aftercare (What they are after sex?)

Victor is a man that has his values straight

You are the most important part of his life (even if he sometimes struggles to shop it) and he will do anything for you… and only for you

Other people don’t matter. He only takes what he wants and leaves.

But you - his sweetest, dearest, little love… can ask anything and everything (well, almost - see N).

You crave massages? He will buy the most luxurious oils on the market, might even take a course to perfect his skills to give you more pleasure

Want to take a bath? He will have a bathtub installed if he doesn’t have one already

Pillowtalk, kissing, snuggling, another round? No need to say it twice. He leaves to please you

When it comes to him, he likes to pull you close and tell you all the things he has no courage to say at any other time

Leave no space for misunderstanding in the department of his unconditional, boundless, eternal love and devotion for you

Tell you just how happy he is to have you and how everything is worthless in comparison to you

After he makes sure you’ve been pleasured throughly already, he will want to share a shower

And make no mistake - he will wash you. You can wash him too, if you want, but taking care of that pretty body of yours is his responsibility

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part is his waist

It wasn’t easy to get that V shaped body and he is extremely proud of this accomplishment…

Especially when he sees your hungry gaze roaming his torso up and down

And you… He couldn’t possibly choose one part

Beautiful legs, rounded butt, soft abdomen and that gorgeous, gorgeous smile

Yeah…

No…

That would be your thighs when it comes to the sexual aspect

You have such a delicate skin there. So suckable. Kissable. More plush than any pillow could ever be

He feels so secure and at ease when they squeeze around his head as you ride his face.

The sound of his hips slapping against them - heavenly

Not much can make him calmer than your lovely, plump thighs

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

It should come (hihihi) as no surprise that he loves to spill inside

It’s so intimate… Bonding…

Doesn’t really like to cum onto you for reasons he himself doesn’t really understand

It just feels… somewhat degrading? And he doesn’t like it that way?

Then again cuming into your mouth is a strong YES. Maybe it’s because of how enthusiastically you take him in

How you collect all the spill from your chin and lick it off your fingers like it was some kind of delicious delicacy

That sight makes him hard all over again…

D = Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory - a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a folder of your photos on his computer

Some of them were taken with consent… Some without you realising…

Because you were in his bed sleeping in your naked glory… And he could only stop himself the first, like 20 (?) times

He sorts them by aesthetic and cuteness/sexiness

Jacks off to them when you’re not around

Most of them are very artistic. He tries his best to make them as good as the ones he was using before you… (see J)

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He slept with a few girls in college, but he saw it only as ‘taking care of his sexual needs’ - no real feelings included

He had one dedicated booty call - a girl who fell in love with him despite him saying that he only only sees her for sex

That period really allowed him to explore his sexuality

So he knows what he likes and what to do, so his partner likes it too

F = Favorite position (This goes without saying)

Everything when he takes you from the back

He’s rather keen on yanking hair, slaping ass…

But when it comes to the person he loves - you, he likes to face each other during sex

He wants to kiss your face, neck and chest. Nuzzle his face into your abdomen while he’s going down from his height

Your legs thrown over his shoulders so he can slap his hips against your soft thighs

Or legs pressed to your sides, hands gripping your thighs

And he can’t even attempt to lie he doesn’t absolutely love when you sit on his lap… or get on top in general

Or when your thighs grip his head when you 69 on the couch while ‘watching’ a movie. Your lips sloppy around him as his tongue pleasures you with most precision and dedication

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

No goofy.

If they start to joke around, they get spanked. HARD.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Victor is a passionate swimmer, so most of his body is hairless

But he doesn’t shave his pubes. Finds it weird to be completely bare down there and the first time he had sex with a completly hairless girl, he was a bit taken aback with her baby like smoothness.

Only trims them with a ‘pubes razor’ which is his old razor that he doesn’t use for face anymore, because he got a better one from his aunt for Christmas

Carpet matches the drapes

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

No goofy.

Only love and eternal devotion.

He will caress and leave kisses all over your body. Keep you close in the warmest and most loving embrace

No dummies or idiots in bed. Only treasures and loves

Almost like he’s trying to make it up to you for his tendency to be so aloof on a daily basis

The sweet talk doesn’t stop there, but I already said everything about it in A

J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

This man didn’t have time to waste on women when he was building his empire, so he naturally spend quite a lot of his life masturbating instead of having sex

He doesn’t really enjoy porn, though. It’s too cartoonish for him. He much prefers to look through lingerie commercials or nude photoshoots - the more artistic the better

After he reunites with you, he starts to feel all that pent up sex tension and starts to jack off almost every day

Thinking about you. Looking at photos of you. Carving you with every small bit of his being

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

First of all - seeing his partner being pleasured. Either by him or by a vibrating toy plugged into them or pressed against their sensitive spots. He doesn’t even pump himself watching. He’s way too consumed with the enticing sights

Double penetration. His huge dick in one whole, dildo in another… Just thinking about it gets him going

He can’t deny himself at least some manhandling (if you consent - obv). Although he doesn’t go full on dom every time (at least with you) he seems to be unable to deny himself some hair pulling and choking... Although he almost does it lovingly? Spanking and whipping will surely also happen from time to time. Can get very rough when jealous

Also a slight daddy kink. When he hears it slip past your lips in the form of a joke - he feels some strange tingling in his groin and it’s not a venereal disease

If you sit on his lap, make a cute, helpless expression and ask daddy to play with you… It just turns him into a primal animal with no self restraint

That he kinda always seems to be

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Where nobody can hear them

Or see them

Anywhere with a stable surface really, but he needs to know you will have full privacy

Would never agree for public sex

All the sweet sounds and expressions he makes you do are his and only his to experience

M = Motivation (What turns them on/gets them going)

Stress, irritation, anger, hurt… Sex is a great way for him to gat this weight of his chest since he doesn’t really like to think those negative feeligs through

Or any feelings, if we’re at it

A nice butt is also a motivation, especially when it’s attached to a fine pair of legs

But both of these factors aren’t a guarantee of a turn on and even if they have that impact on him, he still will most likely not act on it

What he really struggles to control is a real attraction that reaches what’s beyond physical

A beautiful, hardworking and open-minded person is something Victor finds hard to ignore

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do/turn offs)

No sharing

No blood play

No permanent marking

Nothing too forcefull or aggressive

No sex before assigning boundaries and exchanging preferences

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

As I already said In B, Victor is an oral lover

More into giving than receiving, but would never push his lover away

(you can always 69, right?)

The man is humming in pleasure as his tongue slides along your sex

Is more than willing to go for hours if only you let him

The more you moan the more intense his movements become

His main goal is to please

The secondary one is to be the best at yet another thing

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He has two base modes

One: I love you, my sweet creature - all about measured, unhurried but hard thrust. True, pure love-making

Two: Little girls don’t get a say in how daddy fucks them - you’re tearing up, sobbing, drooling and he gets even more turned on by it. Fucks harder and faster then you both believed possible. Years of engaging in sports come to show themselves

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He will participate when the occasion occurs

Might even initiate an occasion

But it’s not really sex for him. It’s a quickie

And when compared to the real love-making with you… it’s just meh

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

When it comes to taking risks, I believe I already made it clear that he isn’t too into that

If someone walked in you, it would be very upsetting for him

If you got accidentally hurt would break his heart

But experiment he would happily

New toys, new positions, new kinks… He will try anything once

Well, almost anything (see N)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

We all have our better and worst days, and this man has a whole company to run. It’s only natural for him to be tired

So usually he won’t last for more than one round. Maybe 3 on weekends

But will last a while if he sets a slower pace (see P)

On vacations however, after a few days of rest his stamina will increase dramatically

Have you seen this guy’s torso? Exactly

He has some stamina to spare

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Not against, although he prefers to experiment with positions that to experiment with toys

Will probably never propose any, except when he knows his partner is into such things

If you do - Victor will do his research and find something exciting for you to enjoy

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

He really is not patient enough for that

Doesn’t have time for it either

Why would he even want to? They’re unsatisfied = he’s unsatisfied (as I mentioned in K)

He sees no appeal in it. When he wants to fuck, he wants to fuck. No reason to beat around the bush

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Victor can be a bit more talkative than usual during the foreplay

Throughs some praise (a lot of it)

Tell you about his feelings (but not too much at that point)

About things that made him jealous…

A quiet Fuck may leave his lips when he enters you and when he’s about to come

In the middle of those two - he’s rather silent

Not much of a moaner

He grunts and growls a lot though. Can get a little bit loud from time

W = Wild card (A random headcanon for the character)

It was a sunny, autumn day. You were walking down the street. You’re fingers entwined. The sunlight was gracing your beautiful features so gorgeously… and he had already been yearning for so long

When you’ve finally reached the Souvenir’s door, the man is all worked up

Not that you could tell from his steely expression

But you sure got suspicious when he got all touchy feely out of the sudden

Not that you would ever mind - obviously

Feather light kisses on the nape of your neck and shoulders. Fingertips caressed your waist to then slide down to your hips. Then he reached for the hem of your dress…

“I love you…” he whispered in your ear

Goosebumps momentarily appeared on your skin as all the intense feelings he had been making you experience from the very day you saw him for the first time in his office travel down your spine in a form of a intense shiver

You wanted him. So bad. For so long.

And there was no hiding his feelings for you at that moment as you turned your head to face him

Soon after stomach was pressed against the kitchen counter. Your naked butt was all out on display for Victor to squeeze and spank as you squirmed and moaned under his touch

Victor didn’t take any unnecessary time to move his long, broad fingers down, to stroke your sensitive slit

He praised you for being so wet, so flushed, so eager for him

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

“I love you, too” you whispered to his ear as his arms pressed you as close to his body as possible, while you were still going back from your highs

And after that, from his lips slipped the words of the most sincere adoration… and true love

Words you would never expect to leave his beautiful, soft mouth

Matches the rest of the man

Long and thick

No curvature. Perfectly straight

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Rather average

Ha has periods when he doesn’t even think about it

And he has ones when he can’t stop thinking about it

However he doesn’t go too much either way

Z = Zzz… (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Remember what I said in S? Applies here as well

He’s a hardworking man

Simplu needs to work hard to keep his business growing and to keep his lover pleased

Then he just needs to get some rest. Don’t try to change his mind because he will

If he’s well rested however, he won’t let you sleep

Like, not a chance. You need to come at least five times. He doesn’t make the rules, sorry

#mlqc #mr love queen's choice #mlqc fanfic #mlqc fluff #mlqc hc #mlqc headcanon #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc smut

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swan-of-sunrise · 4 years ago

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Specs and the Flyboy (Chapter Nineteen-Part Three)

Summary: (Y/N), Jack and their friends finally face off against Leviathan and the Secret Empire.

Pairing: Jack Thompson X Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Ya girl wrote this while dealing with sleep deprivation, cramps and the after effects of the vaccine, so I hope it’s good ‘cause at this point I can’t even tell lol Thank you all so much for reading! I hope that you enjoy!

Chapter Nineteen (Part III) Leviathan’s Weapons Facility, Lithuanian Soviet Socialist Republic (Previous Chapter)

While the two of them were ushered down the staircase that led into the crate-filled warehouse by Michael and Dottie, (Y/N)’s mind raced as she struggled to think of a way out of their current conundrum. I’ve been in plenty of tough scrapes before but even I’ll admit that this one’s the toughest one yet, she thought to herself, her eyes rapidly scanning the large room; there were large, frost-covered windows towards the ceiling, several boarded-up skylights and the two metal doors she spotted were both guarded by Leviathan soldiers. By the time they reached the base of the stairs, (Y/N) had counted a total of twenty armed enemy operatives – seventeen Leviathan guards, Attwell, Underwood and Michael Carter – and from the brief glimpse she’d gotten of their friends hidden behind a stack of crates, it looked as though both Pinkerton and Sawyer were badly injured and the others were trying to bandage their blood-soaked wounds. So, we’re out-gunned and out-numbered, she concluded with a sinking feeling as she bit her lip in worry.

“So, Chief Thompson did survive his daring escape!” Attwell grinned, walking out into the empty space amidst the crates and standing before the two of them. “Truth be told, I was hoping that we’d meet again; I detest leaving loose ends, and killing the SSR’s golden boy once and for all would’ve been a genuine pleasure.”

Beside (Y/N), Jack’s shoulders tensed but he tilted his head to the side in mock contemplation. “What, you couldn’t do it without your Leviathan goons backing you up? What a real tough guy.”

Attwell’s fist quickly connected with Jack’s stomach and when he doubled over in pain, the man struck him across the face and sent him sprawling to the ground. “Stop it!” (Y/N) started towards her partner but the sudden feeling of a pistol barrel against the back of her neck stopped her cold; tearing her eyes away from Jack, she met Attwell’s gaze and struggled to keep her voice steady as she spoke, “He’s not the one who’s screwing up your deal with Leviathan, I am.”

“Of course, of course, the infamous codebreaker.” Attwell stepped closer but she held her ground, raising her chin in defiance and refusing to look away despite how uncomfortable his stare made her feel. After a tension-filled moment, his face broke out into a stomach-churning smirk. “It’s a shame that such promising talent’s being squandered by the SSR, by those who dismiss and condescend you at every turn. I was very much like you before joining Hydra; I was overshadowed at Cambridge by my perfect older brother and his two brilliant flatmates; while William, Michael and Adam flourished in their respective fields of study, I floundered and was subsequently expelled but as luck would have it, I was approached by Hydra and offered a chance to unlock my true potential; and here I stand before you, Agent (Y/L/N), to offer you that very-same chance. With the new Leviathan, your immeasurable skills would not only be recognized but they’d also be celebrated. You and Michael could work side-by-side in our efforts to break through as the world’s leading superpower and once we achieve our goal of fully weaponizing Zodiac, Agent (Y/L/N), you’ll have everything you’ve ever truly desired.”

Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) noticed Jack’s hand resting on his waist and while Attwell talked, her partner’s index finger had tapped away. It only took her seconds to realize he was sending out a message in Morse Code on the walkie-talkie still clipped onto his belt and once she did, she knew exactly what she needed to do.

“You know, it’s a good thing you’re decent at codebreaking, Specs, ‘cause you’d make a pretty shit spy. You fidget too much.”

If Jack can think up an off-the-cuff plan to get us out of this mess then I can buy us all a little time by being a good spy, she thought with resolve just as Attwell finished up his speech. Taking a page out of her partner’s book, (Y/N) raised an incredulous brow at the man as the corner of her mouth curled into a humorless smile. “There was a time when I would’ve given just about anything for people to recognize me and my skills, to appreciate just how hard I’ve worked to get where I am today. But then I grew up and realized that the only person whose appreciation I needed was my own. Mr. Attwell, I don’t need to be celebrated or appreciated by anyone, but especially not by a pathetic imitation of the Red Skull.”

The man’s expression instantly grew cold at the comparison. “Then it would seem that you’re of no use to us.” His gaze shifted to look at whoever was holding her at gunpoint and he nodded. “Shoot her, Michael.”

“Stop!” All of them looked over just as Peggy jumped out from behind their makeshift barricade with her rifle pointed directly at Attwell. “I’ll give you the key.”

“Peggy, no!” The barrel of the pistol pressed harder into (Y/N)’s neck and she winced in pain. However, her horror was quickly replaced with dawning comprehension when Peggy flashed her a pointed look before briefly glancing in Jack’s direction. She knows about whatever Jack’s planning, she silently realized, playing along with her old friend’s ruse by rearranging her features into a look of righteous indignation.

Moving to stand beside Attwell, Dottie raised the hand that wasn’t holding her rifle and gave the younger woman a small wave. “Hiya, Peggy. You know, you really should’ve listened to me back in New York; I told you there were currencies in the world stronger than money. I practically spelled all of this out for you! But the great Peggy Carter couldn’t figure it all out on her own, so she needed the help of…” Dottie turned to (Y/N) with a frown. “What’re those revolting nicknames you call each-? Oh, never mind, I don’t want to know.” Turning back to Peggy, the spy shrugged. “Well, I suppose not everyone’s perfect, are they?”

“No, they’re certainly not.” Attwell agreed, gesturing with his head for Peggy to lower her weapon and holding out his hand once she’d set it on the ground. “No tricks, Agent Carter. The key, and you and your friends are free to go; it appears that at least one of them is in need of medical attention, so I’d be quick about it if I were you.” When Peggy’s eyes flicked over to where Michael was standing behind (Y/N), Attwell chuckled darkly and shook his head. “No, I don’t think dear old Michael’s going anywhere but by all means, Agent, go ahead and ask him if you don’t believe me.”

For the first time since they were ushered into the warehouse, Peggy looked directly at her older brother. Her hardened expression slipped and for the briefest of moments, (Y/N) recognized the vulnerable young woman she’d known all those years ago at Bletchley Park who mourned her beloved brother’s death. While her lower lip trembled, Peggy finally addressed Michael. “Not too long ago, I had a dream about you and you told me that you’d be right alongside me if you could. I didn’t believe it was possible, even when (Y/N) and Jack told me it was, but now we have a second chance at being a family again. Michael, you can finally come home.” She blinked away her tears and gave him the ghost of an encouraging smile. “Please, Michael, come home with me.”

(Y/N) could feel the pressure on her neck ease up but just as she was beginning to think that Peggy had succeeded in getting through to him, Michael coolly replied, “This is my family, Agent, the only family I have in this world.”

Peggy’s face crumpled as Attwell laughed in amusement. “I told you so! Now, the key for your friends.”

God, I hope that whatever Jack’s planning happens sooner rather than later, (Y/N) silently prayed, sucking in a breath while the younger woman approached Attwell. Once Peggy reached into her pocket and withdrew the familiar Arena Club pin, the man looked over at Dottie and gave her a nod; the spy slung the strap of her rifle over her shoulder and made her way over to one of the many wooden crates near them, kicking the lid off of it and lifting a small metal box out of the loose excelsior. The box looked innocent enough but as Dottie walked it over to Attwell, (Y/N)’s blood ran cold and she knew that the moment Peggy handed over that key, Leviathan would possess one of the world’s deadliest weapons and they’ll have lost.

“Get up, Chief Thompson,” Michael barked and while Jack got to his feet, (Y/N) was roughly pushed towards him. “And you, stand over there with him.”

(Y/N) did as he said, standing beside Jack and keeping her eyes on the scene unfolding before them as she murmured, “You okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Peachy-keen.” She watched Dottie hand the metal box over to Attwell, her anxiety steadily building within her while he examined the box’s intricate lock. “Are you going to fill me in on the plan or what?”

The corner of Jack’s mouth curled upwards and he quietly replied, “Patience is a virtue, Specs, just be ready for it.”

“Be ready for wha-?”

Just then as Peggy’s hand stretched out to give Attwell the Arena Club pin, the warehouse wall opposite them exploded. Rubble and splintered pieces of crates flew through the air but before (Y/N) could fully react, gunfire broke out all around them. Amidst the chaos, Jack latched onto (Y/N)’s hand and ran, yanking her behind the nearest tower of crates as bullets whizzed past their heads; both of them crouched on the ground and peeked around the wooden crates, and her eyes widened in amazement at what she saw. The explosion that had knocked down part of the warehouse wall hadn’t been an explosion at all but rather one of the Howlies’ trucks and as (Y/N) watched, Daniel and Henry used the truck’s doors as barriers while they exchanged fire with the Leviathan guards. Moments later, she spotted Peggy dart out from one of the aisles to join her boyfriend behind the open truck door.

“Wa-Hoo!”

Dugan’s deafening war cry from across the warehouse was punctuated by a fresh barrage of gunfire, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but revel at the familiarity of it all; her eyes were suddenly drawn to two men sprinting down the aisle towards her and Jack, and it took her a tense moment to recognize them through all the chaos.

“There you guys are!” Howard exclaimed before ducking down beside them, followed closely by an anxious-looking Edwin Jarvis. Reaching into the satchel that was slung over his shoulders, the inventor withdrew two handguns and offered the weapons to them. “You know, you two’ve got a real habit of gettin’ into trouble…”

Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Says the man who was mind-controlled into almost gassing all of New York last year.” Springing up, he fired off several shots before ducking back down. “How’re we looking, Jarvis?”

“Well, Chief Sousa’s dramatic entrance provided enough of a distraction for Mr. Fieldman to escort Mr. Pinkerton and Mr. Sawyer out the front; their wounds aren’t life-threatening, but Mr. Fieldman promised he’d help treat them once they reach the clearing.” The butler set another satchel on the ground in front of them. “And we’ve brought more guns and ammunition, as per your request.”

“You know, Thompson, you said in your message that you needed a big diversion, but that whole entrance was my idea; I actually took it from one of my studio’s newest scripts, where a gangster steals-”

“Of course, Mr. Stark, your genius knows no bounds.” Edwin hurriedly interrupted the inventor’s rambling, glancing over at (Y/N) with his brow furrowed in worry. “And have you broken Mr. Carter out of his brainwashing? Where is he?”

Looking around the edge of the crate, (Y/N)’s heart dropped when noticed that several important people were missing from the gunfight. “Where the hell did they go, Jack?”

Jack craned his neck to see what she was looking at and swore loudly. “Shit, I-wait, they’re on the stairs!” By the time (Y/N) spotted them, Attwell, Dottie and Michael had reached the top of the stairs and had disappeared around the corner. “Jarvis, stay here with Stark and cover us, then go help the others.” Edwin nodded and her partner turned towards her, his blue eyes scanning her face for any signs of trepidation as he asked, “Are you ready, Specs?”

“As I’ll ever be,” (Y/N) pulled an extra ammunition magazine out of the satchel and tucked it into her pocket before giving Jack a determined nod. “Let’s finish this once and for all, Flyboy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Compared to the chaotic warehouse they’d come from, the rest of the facility was eerily silent and it wasn’t at-all difficult to follow the footsteps of the fleeing trio through the deserted hallways.

“You know that this is probably a trap, right?”

“Naturally.”

“Good. Just wanted to make sure that we’re both on the same page.”

Before (Y/N) could get another word in, a figure she soon recognized as Dottie dropped down from above them and began attacking; the spy kicked the guns out of their hands, ramming her knee into (Y/N)’s stomach and knocking the wind out of her before spinning and using her leg to slam Jack into the wall beside them. (Y/N) took advantage of Dottie’s momentary distraction and aimed a side-kick at her thigh, but the spy merely turned her sharp fall into a somersault; she stood and threw a punch that (Y/N) was quick to duck, and then she grabbed the spy’s extended arm with the intent of wrenching it behind her back. Dottie predicted the move, yanking her arm free only to wrap her hand around her throat and roughly shove her back against the wall.

The back of (Y/N)’s head erupted into a sharp pain while Dottie flashed her a condescending smile. “I already told you, you’re too easy! It’s almost pathetic to see you try so hard to be as good as Peggy.”

“Don’t need to be as good as Peggy,” (Y/N) choked out as the fingers around her throat tightened. “Just…just good enough to keep you distracted.”

Dottie frowned in confusion and that’s when Jack slammed the butt of his gun against the back of her head. The spy tumbled to the ground in an unconscious heap and (Y/N) doubled over, her hands firmly clutching her knees as she coughed and gasped for air. “(Y/N), you okay?” She nodded and allowed Jack to take hold of her shoulders, his soothing encouragements helping her finally regain her breath; once he was sure that she was fine, her partner handed over her dropped gun and rested his hand against the small of her back to urge her forward. “C’mon, let’s go…”

They left the motionless spy behind and continued down the hallway, turning the corner and finding themselves at the entrance of a dimly-lit boiler room. Beside (Y/N), Jack shuddered and she recalled the story he’d told her of the mission he and Peggy had conducted to investigate one of Leviathan’s training facilities; she nudged him with her elbow and gave him a brief smile, wishing that she could offer him more comfort but not wanting to distract them both from their mission. Jack nodded as if to say he was fine, but his shoulders remained tense while he silently gestured for her to go left into the room while he went right.

(Y/N) crept behind the various boilers and pipes, careful not to slip on the slick ground as she did. If I end up surviving all this, I think I’m going to sleep for a week straight, she thought to herself, her heart rate steadily increasing with each step she took. While she edged herself around another heavy piece of industrial furnacing, she found herself trying to think of how to break Michael out of his mind-control long enough to save him; Jack insisted that cognitive re-calibration was the only way but after being present for Peggy and Michael’s reunion, she wondered if reminding him of his past or even recent actions would also do the trick. But a sharp skid noise right behind her made her forget her train of thought and turn, dodging the knife just in time.

“You really should’ve taken my offer, Agent (Y/L/N),” Attwell spat out, slashing at her with the knife again and forcing her to stumble back into the center aisle of the boiler room; the blade sliced against her forearm and she stifled her cry of pain, dropping her gun and leaping out of the way as he aimed for her again. “Soon, you and your foolish friends will be dead and Leviathan will have more power than you could possibly imagine!”

“Don’t you ever get tired of hearing your own damn voice?” (Y/N) retorted, her hand shooting out and twisting the red-colored knob beside them; a pipe next to Attwell spewed out pressurized steam and he let out a shriek of pain as the steam enveloped the right side of his face. Not wanting to stick around, she turned and sprinted further into the vast room, a part of her hoping that she’d bought herself enough time to save Michael. Skidding around a corner, she was immediately met with the sight of Jack and Michael engaged in a vicious fight on the floor; her partner was trying to wrestle something out of the other man’s closed fist, but he was so preoccupied with his task that he didn’t see Michael’s other hand brush the handle of a nearby gun. (Y/N) kicked the gun away from him, pinning his shoulder to the ground with her knee and spoke the first thing that came to mind. “Visions, light, cheered, night, dream!”

As she finished reciting the five words he’d used to encode his final message to Peggy, something shifted in Michael’s dark eyes and his clenched fist relaxed, allowing Jack to snatch the Arena Club pin from him. Before any of them could say or do anything more, a fiery ache erupted along her shoulder blade and she cried out in pain as she pitched forward. “(Y/N)!” Jack looped his arms underneath hers and dragged her over to half-lean against a pipe; her vision was partially clouded by the pain, but she could still make out the bloody knife he’d just pulled out of her upper back and tossed onto the ground beside them. “No, no, don’t look at that, just keep your eyes on me!” He pressed his trembling hand tight against the wound and when she nearly whimpered, he held the side of her face with the other and frantically nodded, his blue eyes steadily filling with panic that he struggled to control. “I-I know it hurts, baby, but I have to keep pressure on it; it’s not very deep, but I can’t have you fainting right now so keep your eyes on me, c’mon-”

“How touching,” Both of them looked up to see Attwell and Michael standing before them, the former with a self-satisfied smirk on his half-seared face and the latter staring stonily down at them. “Let’s make a new deal, Chief Thompson: Give me the key, and I won’t let Agent (Y/L/N) slowly bleed out on the floor of this boiler room.”

“Bastard.” Jack spat back, but his hand left (Y/N)’s face long enough to retrieve the Arena Club pin from his pocket and throw it into Attwell’s waiting hand. “You better start lookin’ over your shoulder now, Attwell, ‘cause I won’t rest until I kill you myself.”

Attwell shrugged and ran his fingers over the pin, twisting it sharply to convert it into a key. “Such fiery attitude in the face of doom was precisely why I was looking forward to killing you. But then I realized, forcing a man like you to live with your mistakes is a far worse punishment than death; and to make this victory sweeter, I plan on unlocking Zodiac in front of you both, so you can see just how spectacularly you failed yourselves, your agency and your country.” He turned to Michael with his brow raised in expectation. “Are you ready to make history, old chap?”

Michael nodded. “Of course…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the metal box containing Zodiac; (Y/N) tried getting up, unwilling to sit back and let Leviathan win, but Jack’s strong arms held her in place against him. When she met his gaze, he gave her a barely-discernible head shake and with her jaw clenched tight, she watched Attwell push the key into the lock and turn it clockwise; the lid popped open and the man breathed a sigh of relief, reaching into the slightly-smoking box and holding an electric-blue colored vial with strange etchings carved into the glass.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? So much potential for war and destruction, and it fits within the palm of my hand.” Attwell looked up at Michael and continued, “My brother never appreciated such things, you know. He never truly appreciated you, either; once you were found out to be a deep-cover spy for the SOE, I saw an opportunity to mold you into the person you were always meant to be. Do you remember the first thing I told you after you came out of Hydra’s operating room?”

Michael’s hardened expression faltered, almost as if he was struggling to control his actions, and in an instant, he drew his gun and shot Attwell directly in the chest. There were tears in his eyes as he finally replied, “‘Michael, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’”

The box and the vial slipped out of the dying man’s hands and as he began to sway dangerously on his feet, (Y/N) lunged forward and caught both in her hands before they could hit the ground. While Attwell’s lifeless body collapsed to the ground in a heap, she and Jack hurriedly placed the deadly Zodiac back into the box and slammed the lid closed; she let out a shaky breath, unable to grasp everything that had just happened. Michael dropped to his knees, tossing his gun to the side and rubbing his head with one hand; still mindful of her now-oozing wound, Jack held her a little closer as they both warily watched the unsteady man turn away from Attwell’s body to look at them. “I-It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Agent (Y/L/N). I’m Michael Carter, SOE.”

A smile slowly stretched across (Y/N)’s face and a sense of relief was beginning to wash over her as a familiar voice called throughout the boiler room. “(Y/N)? Jack?”

“We’re back here, (Y/N) needs some medical attention but we’re okay!” Jack called back, meeting (Y/N)’s gaze and flashing her a lopsided grin. “You’re gonna be fine, Specs, you hear me?” With a relieved chuckle, Jack leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her sweat-covered brow before resting his cheek on the top of her head. “We’re all gonna be fine.”

“Hey!” The first person who rounded the corner was Daniel, whose gun was already at the ready when he pointed it at Michael. “Hey, get the hell away from them!”

Jack held out a placating hand to the chief. “Easy, Danny Boy, he’s good right now; he’s the one who killed Attwell.”

Lowering his gun, Daniel limped over to where they sat against the pipe and knelt down as best he could to examine her knife wound. “Looks like the knife missed everything important, thank goodness. What the hell happened down here?”

Jack detailed everything they’d dealt with after hurrying out of the warehouse as their friends joined them; Edwin began treating her various wounds with Henry’s assistance, Howard carefully stowed the box containing Zodiac and its key into a satchel and Dugan worked on locating a weak point in the wall to blow a quick exit for them. There was a flurry of voices and activity surrounding (Y/N), but all her attention was on Peggy and Michael; they were talking to each other in low tones, Michael looking heartbreakingly unsure and Peggy trying her hardest not to cry, until they both surged forward and hugged one another. For the second time that day, (Y/N) was reminded of Freddie but while she watched the Carter siblings finally reunite, she didn’t feel sadness or envy, but rather pride. She was proud of herself, for having helped stop Leviathan’s plans and for having made-do on her promise to reunite her oldest and dearest friend with her beloved brother. If anyone deserves a second chance at happiness it’s those two, she thought to herself, taking a deep breath and resting her head against Jack’s strong shoulder.

They did it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Only one more chapter left!! Like I said, idk how I feel about this chapter as a whole so I’m sorry if there’s mistakes/it’s bad, but next week’s is gonna be great! Thank you guys so much for reading! If you haven’t checked it out yet, I created a Spotify playlist for this series and it’s linked down below!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/21pWY7OiMFj8LaYpxhtVtW

Chapter Twenty

“Specs and the Flyboy” Masterlist

Tagging: @nnon-it-up @fluffymadamina @remmyswritings @ourstarsailor @darkusangelus @josis-teacup @marvel-jackt-loki-buck @yeetyeetchickenmeat @sameoldbaby @theserenityspace @seeing-but-not-observing @supervoldejaygent @momc95 @brooke0297 @kinda-c0nfused @outoftheregular

#jack thompson x reader #agent carter #jack thompson #peggy carter #daniel sousa #howard stark #edwin jarvis #dum dum dugan #pinky pinkerton #happy sam sawyer #the howling commandos #michael carter #dottie underwood #marvel cinematic universe #strategic scientific reserve

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bluearson · 4 years ago

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Double Trouble

Request: I see your requests are open and you write ✨ soft Dabi ✨ can we get a little smth for Dabi with an s/o who has a water quirk that sooths his burns to further soft dabi supremacy 🥺 (thank you for all the fantastic fluffiness you have blessed us with 💕) The day started off ordinary. The sound of music filled your ears as you patrolled around your self-claimed “turf”. Life was easy, a little dull but the life of a vigilante with no loyalties was not always boring. Then you saw him, hiding away in an alleyway. He was tall, beautiful even you might say. The scars that littered his body looked painful. You felt almost sorry for him, a quirk that his own body can’t handle. You wanted to help him.

Feeling confident you strode up to him, “Sir?” You spoke out to him. He was almost like a feral cat, he shifted his weight quickly onto his other foot and extended his left hand, blue flames appeared between his fingers. It was like a reflexive survival instinct. Your reflexes were faster than his though, you pulled the moisture out of the air and snuffed his flames out. He watched in disbelief as steam bloomed off his hand. “That’s an impressive quirk you got,” He croaked. “So, what are you? A pro hero?” There was an malicious edge laced into the words he spoke. “I wouldn’t want to rope myself in with such close-minded people.” You scoffed, “I’m better than that. I’m my own boss.” You crossed your arms over your chest as you eyed the flame-quirked stranger. He only grunted in response as he looked you over. You felt like he was scrutinizing you under his eye. “If our paths cross again.. I think I’d prefer having your help.” He was gone before you could even say goodbye. Even though he hadn’t made the best first impression, neither did you. You weren’t sure how to feel about the next time you met him. At the very least you hoped that you wouldn’t be on the wrong side of his flames a second time. You shuddered at the thought. You caught a glimpse of him walking down the street together with a girl much shorter than him, she rather cute. You wondered about what relationship they must have had. They seemed like good friends at the least. She was very animated and clung onto his arm as they walked together. Secretly you wished you could be her, clinging to his arm as you strolled through the city. That was another fantasy to write about in your journal. It wasn’t the first time you’ve been infatuated by someone but man.. you really wanted to be at his side. The universe seemed to have enough of punishing you when one day you heard a voice calling out to you, you looked over your shoulder as you took a long swig of water from your water bottle. You flashed the familiar figure a smile as it came fast approaching. “I missed you.” “I’m sorry I kept you waiting so long, sweetheart.” He teased. “I like what you have to offer. I think we could make a pretty good alliance.” The words sent your heart a fluttering. Alliance? He wanted to form an alliance with you? “I would like that..” You extended your hand to touch his forearm, looking up at him as though you were asking permission to touch him. Your fingertips grazed his skin softly. When he didn’t move away you allowed your hand to settle on his rough skin. “Does it ever hurt?” You asked as you examined where the stables met his skin. “Sometimes.” He answered quietly, as though he was sharing a secret with you. “Do you have somewhere we can discuss this privately? I hate being out in the open too long..” He rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes darted around. “Yeah I have a little hideout where I make deals.” You turned on your heels and made a beeline for the hideout before you could even see the look on his face. Once inside you fastened the series of locks that prevented squatters from breaking in when you weren’t around to protect your secret base. You told your new partner all about your quirk, nearly professing that you held a flame for him once or twice as you tried to explain how useful you could be to him. You had experience teaming up with criminals before. Together you were a force to be reckoned with, especially since you could stay hidden as you supported Dabi from the shadows. You began to notice he’d start doing little things for you. You even took note that his arm stopped sizzling as much after a fight, usually you tried your best to keep up with him but there was only so much you could do while trying to not seem like a shady person carrying around several gallons of water. Still you felt like your efforts were always appreciated, even if they weren’t up to the standards you wanted every time. You lived for the way he’d pat your head as steam rose off his arm. The way he’d smile at you even for a brief moment. “I love you.” You said to him one day as he smoked his morning cigarette. You were enamored by him, utterly and totally captivated by everything he did. “I’m glad we’re apart of each other’s lives.” You quickly added. The raven haired villain took a long drag before exhaling the smoke, you watched as some slipped through the staples in his face, it looked as though he was a dragon breathing fire. “I’m glad you’re around.” He tore his eyes away from yours and you felt a little deflated. You wondered if there was ever a chance he’d see you as something more than just his “sidekick”. You wanted to ask him if he was single or not, about that girl you saw him hanging out with all those months ago. It never seemed like the right time, nor the right place. You didn’t want to ruin a good thing. Things didn’t change between the two of you after your little outburst. You still couldn’t push your feelings aside for him, no matter how hard you tried. “Dabs, do you try to push me away because you don’t think I can be a good villain?” It had been on your mind for a while, the way he seemed to keep you at arms length even though you both shared a common goal. “You don’t need to protect me if that’s what you’re trying to do. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself and holding my own.” Your eyes searched his for an answer, for a glimmer of emotion under the tough guy act he held in public. You knew him long enough to see right through him. Every mask he wore. Every layer he tried to mask his true feelings behind. You wanted to tear all those walls down for him, to hold him in your arms and play with his hair. To be vulnerable with each other and raise hell together. If he wanted to watch the world burn you’d gladly fan the flames of his ambitions and further his goals. You wanted to see him succeed in everything. For the world to know that there was nothing that could stop him with his partner in crime by his side. He just stared back into your (E/C) eyes, a sad look washed over his face. He couldn’t just say you didn’t understand, you knew about his ideologies. You supported him with every fiber in your body. He cupped the side of your face, rubbing his thumb against your smooth skin. For once he didn’t have a snarky comeback to bite back at you with. You two just stood there, staring into each others having a silent conversation. It felt as though you two were trying to telepathically communicate with emotion what words couldn’t possibly convey. It lacked the power to truly grasp the full breath of the things you wanted to tell each other. Dabi pressed his forehead against yours, “I don’t ever want you to act recklessly because you’re following behind me. I never want you to get yourself hurt trying to keep up with me.” He paused, and brushed a lock of hair out of your face. “I know my own limits, and I know when I’m pushing myself too far. You don’t need to worry about me like I’m some.. fragile kid. I’m not made out of porcelain. I’m made out of flesh and bone, muscles.. and I’m a lot more sturdy than I might look.” You laughed lightheartedly, trying to lighten the mood. “I appreciate the fact that you’re looking out for me Dabi.. but I can only do so much if you keep me at arms length. I want to be your equal.” “You always were.” “Then let me in. Open up to me. Talk to me for fucks sake.” “I think actions speak louder than words. Words get jumbled.. twisted.” He tore his eyes away from yours as he looked off into the distance. He seemed so far away and you let him have his moment to reflect. “You’re too valuable to me. You help the pain stop. I’ve gotten too used to it Y/N. You know you’re really cruel sometimes..” He toyed with a lock of your hair. “You’ve got me hooked on your special little treatment and now I can’t stand the thought of you no longer being apart of my life. You’ve made yourself essential to my personal comfort.” You pulled him into a hug, squeezing him gently as you listened to the steady rhythm of his heart. It took a moment before he wrapped his arms around you in kind, his body was warm. “How do you think I feel?” You chuckled as you shook your head, “I’ve always been fascinated by you Dabi, ever since the first day I met you. I’ve never been able to get you off my mind for even a single second to myself.” “Damn..” You felt a rough kiss being planted onto the of your head. “What did I ever do to deserve someone like you in my life?” He chuckled. “Don’t ever say I never loved you. You just weren’t looking close enough. Too caught up in your head to realize I’ve been saying it ever since I agreed to let you into my life.” You said nothing as you simply enjoyed his embrace. Drinking in his scent as you let his warmth envelop you whole. “Wherever you go, I’ll be close behind. Damn all the consequences. There’s no place in this world I’d rather be than with the man I cherish. I trust you with all of me, Dabi.” You planted a kiss on his cheek. “When you’re finally ready to entrust all of you, your baggage, scars, and whatever else you’re hiding away from. I’ll be there, to help ease your pain.” You took his hand and raised it to your lips, planting a firm kiss into his skin. Taglist: @some-kindofgnome @humanitiesstrongestchicken @hecatve @axerrri

#Lighting the Bonfire #Dabi #Dabi bnha #Dabi x Y/N #Dabi x Reader #Dabi fanfic #soft Dabi

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lupiiifics · 3 years ago

Text

Lucky To Love You

Fic #2 Posted on AO3 on October 1, 2021 for Luzeni Friday on Twitter.

A/N: I swear my stories aren't going to be formatted like this. It's just that I formatted it to fit AO3 so I wasn't sure how to split the chapters here. I didn't want to post them separately, so this is how I did it. Hope it's not too jarring. Next story will be posted on October 8, 2021.

Summary: Zenigata and Lupin agree to a date in Lupin's jail cell. Some hijinks occur, but it's mostly just pining and fluff.

Word Count: 6,988

Chapter 1:

"He's coming."

Goemon appeared between Lupin and Jigen's shoulders, the first sign of him being the hilt of Zantetsuken. His hand gripped the shoulder of the seat in front of him, and Lupin looked back just in time to see blue lights flashing in the distance.

" Shit . How do you do that?" He asked, glancing at the samurai. "I thought we'd have a clean getaway tonight, but it looks like Pops has other plans."

"I thought you kept this one secret? How'd he find us?" Jigen asked.

Lupin shrugged. "Dunno. That guy has some sixth sense when it comes to us."

"When it comes to you , you mean," Jigen corrected. He pulled his Magnum from its holster and popped the chamber to count the amount of bullets. "Want me to take care of him?"

"Maybe. How many are there?"

Jigen turned in his seat, peering past Goemon to stare out the back windshield. "It's just him and his lacky. No one else."

Lupin nodded, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "Hold off for now. I'll signal you when I need you to slow 'em down."

Jigen lowered his hand but didn't put away his gun. "What're you plannin'?"

Lupin waved a hand in front of them, steadily accelerating to try and outrun their pursuers. They were fast approaching a large copse of trees, the plush green blur becoming clearer as the seconds passed. "I'm gonna try and lose them."

"You sure?" Jigen angled his head upwards until one of his eyes was visible, his bangs peaking through to frame his face. "I could at least stall them."

"Don't waste your ammunition. Save it for when we really need it."

Jigen shrugged, leaning back to kick his feet up on the dash. He pushed his hat down over his face again and stuffed a cigarette from his pocket into his mouth. "Suit yourself. Just don't complain to me later when he catches you."

"He won't catch me," Lupin said, matter-of-factly. "I'm Lupin the Third!"

"That hasn't stopped him before," Jigen muttered. “That guy can’t resist putting his handcuffs on you, can he?”

Lupin grinned, glancing through the rearview mirror again. “Hey, I can’t help being irresistible. It comes with the charm of being me!”

The blue lights were fast approaching, as was the forest. He slammed on the breaks and pressed the clutch to the floor, shifting down until he felt the car catch enough to turn. He jerked the steering wheel, pressing Jigen up against the passenger side door, and throwing Goemon against the back seat. He came up with a glare on his face, his fierce stare peering at him through the rearview mirror.

“You could have warned us,” Goemon said, gripping Zantetsuken. The debris from their sudden shift fell through the sunroof, covering each of them in fallen branches, leaves, and dirt. Lupin ignored the yells of protest coming from his two partners, pressing down the small dirt road in hopes of losing Zenigata. The blue lights still stubbornly pursued them, however, a permanent fixture in the reflection of his mirrors.

The sound of the sirens mixed with the sound of crunching metal as long grey streaks appeared along the sides of his precious Fiat. He pressed his cheek against his window, watching as the trees scratched his car. “ Fuck . Pops is gonna owe me for this one.”

“Ain’t the first time I’ve heard you say that,” Jigen drew a pull from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his nose. “You gonna actually hold him to it, this time?”

Lupin leaned forward, shifting as he accelerated deeper into the forest. It was a bumpy ride, throwing each of them around the car as the forest grew more narrow.

“Hush you,” Lupin said. He leaned over, not taking his eyes off the path ahead of him. “Gimme a taste of that, would ya?”

“Thought you hated Marlboros?”

Lupin craned his head, shrugging. “Can’t really pull one of mine out right now, can I? I’m driving.”

Jigen huffed. “Fine. Here.”

He held the cigarette out and allowed Lupin to suck on the end of it. As soon as he pulled away, he crushed the cigarette between his fingers, shoving it into the car’s ashtray and pulling another from the pocket of his jacket.

Lupin laughed the smoke forward to filter against the windshield. It rose overhead and escaped through the sunroof. “Grumpy much, Jiji?”

Jigen ignored him, lighting his brand new cigarette. Goemon leaned forward between them again, his face grim and his hair dotted with leaves and spots of dirt.

“The car will not last,” he said, indicating their slowing speed with the hilt of his sword. “Zenigata will catch up.”

Lupin looked between the samurai and the speedometer. “What? No! She can’t give up on us now!”

Jigen held up his Magnum again, eyes glinting with obvious mirth. “You want me to slow them down now?”

The car began to sputter, dying like a star at the end of its lifecycle. “I’m not sure there’s much point. Looks like we’re running from here. Goemon, you got the stuff?”

Goemon held up a duffle bag full of loot, the pockets glimmering with various pieces of gold, silver, and whatever else they could find that they deemed worth enough to take. He hefted it against the top of one of his shoulders, hopping through the sunroof right as the car came to a stop at the end of a clearing. He drew Zantetsuken in one fluid motion, sending the surrounding trees crashing to block Zenigata’s pursuit. They could hear the inspector yelling on the other side, obviously frustrated to be stopped in his goal of catching them.

“LUPIN! Move these trees, dammit!”

“Sorry, Pops!” Lupin shouted over the chaos. “But I’ve gotta run.”

“Oh no you don’t!”

Zenigata exited his police car and began climbing the fallen trees. When Jigen and Goemon saw this, they began to back away.

“Whelp, I’m outta here. You comin’, Goemon?”

The samurai nodded. “I’m right behind you, Jigen.”

Lupin turned to follow them, but found his arm restrained by a familiar set of handcuffs. He looked back, and found Zenigata half slumped over the trees, grinning at him with a thick rope clutched between his fingers. “I’ve got you now, Lupin!”

Lupin turned toward his friends, watching as they continued to run away from him. “Wait, no. Guys, help me !”

Jigen gave him a sympathetic look while Goemon remained stoic in their escape.

“Sorry, boss,” Jigen said, “but we gotta keep the goods safe, right?”

“No! You’ve got to keep me safe, you bastards!”

Jigen ignored him. “We’ll be sure to give you your share when you escape, okay boss? See ya later!”

“What?! No. Jigen , get your ass back here.”

They disappeared out of the clearing, leaving Lupin alone with Zenigata and Yata. Lupin slowly turned to find Zenigata standing behind his shoulder, tugging his hand up to grin at the cuffs.

“Thought you could escape from me, did you?” He asked. He untied the rope and grabbed Lupin’s other hand to trap behind his back. “Now you’re coming back with us to the station.”

“Aw, but Pops. Tonight was supposed to be a quiet night. I didn’t even send out a calling card.”

“I don’t care!” Zenigata beamed, his face absolutely alight with pride. “Wherever you go, I follow, remember?"

Lupin hunched his shoulders and blew out a defeated sigh. "Normally I'd call that romantic, but with you I'm not so sure."

"Call it whatever you want. You're not getting away this time, Lupin ," Zenigata said. He turned toward the pile of trees and pulled Lupin along with him. "Yata! Come help me load our prisoner."

"Yes, sir!" Yata poked his head up from where he had climbed the trees, reaching an arm down to do just as Zenigata had asked. "Boost him up. I’ll pull.”

Zenigata fumbled with his cellphone, struggling to dial the number of his police chief. Yata did his best to help him, but there wasn't much he could do for a man as stubborn as the Inspector. Lupin watched helplessly from the back seat, listening as the two bickered.

"Just let me dial the number—"

"No, I already told you I got it. Here, look. See? It's ringing!"

Zenigata held the phone gleefully to his ear, a large grin spreading across his face. Yata's expression was a little less enthusiastic, exhausted against his superior's relentless tenacity.

Zenigata didn't notice this. His voice was bright as he said, "hello? Chief? Yeah, we got 'em! We caught Lupin. We're transporting now."

Lupin had already slipped his cuffs, but his escape was thwarted by this car's lack of back-door handles. This wasn't Zenigata's typical police car. It didn't have a sunroof either.

He wrapped his arms around the headrests of the seats in front of him, leaning to poke his head between the two police officers. Yata jumped when he noticed the thief, while Zenigata ignored him and finished his report.

"We'll be there in an hour. Have his cell prepped and ready for me, alright? Yes, sir. I'll give you the full run-down once I have Lupin locked up tight."

"Sir—" Yata sputtered, staring wide-eyed at Lupin. He held his hand to his holstered handgun, ready to use it if Lupin decided to try anything hasty. Zenigata remained calm as he felt Lupin snake his hand around his left shoulder. He simply said his goodbyes, hung up the phone, and turned to look at their prisoner.

“You slipped your cuffs,” he said, voice flat.

Lupin held up the cuffs in question, hanging them off the top of his forefinger. He grinned. “You know me, Pops. I’ve never been one to be restrained.”

“I beg to differ,” Zenigata said. “Seeing as I’ve got you where I want you, and we’re heading back to the station now.”

Lupin shrugged and fell back against his seat. "I'll find a way out of this. I always do. You got a smoke?"

Zenigata grumbled, much of his initial enthusiasm gone from his body language. He rummaged through his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter, pulling one out, lighting it, and handing it back to Lupin. Yata stared at him as the cigarette left his lips, his entire face twisted in confusion.

"You're actually giving him one?"

Zenigata shrugged. "They haven't been tampered with, so why not? Not like he'll get many opportunities in prison anyway."

Yata slumped his shoulders. "You're too kind, Inspector. He's a thief!"

"Hey, just ‘cause he’s a thief, doesn’t mean I can’t treat him with respect.” Zenigata said.

Yata sighed, and Lupin laughed at the reserved look on the young police officer’s face. This earned him a glare worthy of Goemon, and Lupin’s laughter only got louder.

“Zenigata, with all due respect, you’re hopeless…”

His cell was at the back of the police station, past the rows of office desks, people, and officers. The room was dark and windowless, with lights that were controlled by whoever was guarding him. The cell door was heavy and automated, with no obvious control panel, nor way Lupin could conceivably hack it. He realized then that this cell had been specifically created to contain him, at least temporarily, until they could figure out a way to keep him from escaping. It was kind of impressive actually, until he realized the reality of what that would mean.

“You’ve been doing your research,” Lupin said, looking around. There was a bed suspended by wire in the corner of the room, and a mirror and toilet behind a wall for him to use.

“Told you you weren’t going anywhere,” Zenigata said. He pressed his hand against the back of Lupin’s shoulder, pushing him forward into the cell. “Welcome to your new home, Lupin~”

Lupin was beginning to panic, though he hid it under a veneer of careful planning. He straightened the orange jumpsuit they’d forced him into. Anything to make him look, and feel, composed. “ Temporary home, you mean. You know I’ll bust outta here eventually.”

Zenigata smiled at him and started to turn to leave the cell. “Whatever you say, Lupin.”

Lupin stumbled forward, unaware of the movement until it was actually happening. He caught Zenigata’s wrist in a plea to get him to stop. “Wait.”

“What?” Zenigata raised a dark eyebrow at him, turning to stare at their intertwined arms. “Do you need something?”

“Let’s make a deal.”

“A deal?” Zenigata shook his head, pulling away. “I don’t make deals with criminals, Lupin. You know that.”

Lupin was desperate. “A bet then. If I can make it through a week, you have to go on a date with me.”

Zenigata’s face flushed red and he took a step backwards. “A date ? Are you out of your mind?”

“Probably,” Lupin said, “but anyway. What do you say? Will you accept?”

Zenigata pressed his back against the cell door, face still flushed with what Lupin thought was embarrassment. “Don’t you have Fujiko? Or Jigen? Why would you want me ?”

“Why wouldn’t I want you?” Lupin asked, genuinely surprised. “You’re my rival , Zenigata. No cop in the world has ever managed to capture me for more than a night, and you’ve done it more than I can count. You’re my equal .”

“What about the others?” Zenigata asked. “Won’t they be angry?”

Lupin waved a hand. “Nah, they won’t care.”

Zenigata spluttered. “But isn’t that… cheating?”

“ Zenigata …” Lupin stared at him, a smile slowly growing to meet his eyes. “People can be polyamorous.”

“R...Right.”

Lupin edged toward the inspector eagerly. “So? What do you say?”

Zenigata rubbed his face. He was silent for several moments, seemingly going over the pros and cons in his head.

“This isn’t some plan to escape, is it?”

Lupin shrugged. “That depends. Where will the date take place?”

Zenigata scanned the room with his eyes, a plan slowly forming in his mind. “Here.”

“Really? How?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Zenigata said, “but we’re sure as Hell not doing it anywhere else.”

Lupin drooped his shoulders, disappointed that his idea hadn’t quite worked how he expected. “Aw, you’re no fun.”

“Just be glad I’m gonna let you do this at all.”

“So is that a yes?”

Zenigata looked like he was about to sign his soul away. He exhaled and rolled his shoulders. “ Yes , but only if you make it a week. Otherwise, the entire thing is off.”

Lupin shouted his excitement, throwing his arms around the inspector’s shoulders. “I’m looking forward to it!”

Zenigata allowed Lupin to nuzzle into his neck for a moment, enjoying the contact as much as he could allow. A moment later, he pried the thief off of him, and missed the warmth of his arms almost immediately. “Seven days,” he said. He held up seven fingers. “One week from today, or the date’s off.”

Lupin saluted him loyally, stepping back with a grin bright on his face. “Yes, sir! One week.”

Zenigata gave Lupin a small smile, stepping to turn back to the door. He paused for a width of a second, expecting something else, but the only sound he heard was the squeak of Lupin’s bed as the prisoner climbed into it. He wasn’t sure why he was disappointed as he left the jail cell. There shouldn’t have been anything else he was expecting.

As soon as the door closed, and Lupin was sure Zenigata was gone, he tugged at the edge of his ear until a small earpiece popped out into his hand. He played with the contraption for several seconds, bending and contracting it until he had it how he liked it. Then he hooked it back to the plastic by his ear, and grinned when he heard the other end pick up.

Jigen sounded tired as he answered, and Lupin wondered if he had woken him. “Boss?”

“Hey, Jiji . Listen. I need a favor.”

Chapter 2:

Report #1, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“Day one of Lupin’s imprisonment was an overall success. Lupin himself was cooperative. He answered my questions, followed orders, and did his best to seem like a perfect prisoner. Most of his first day was spent lounging on the bed. When I asked if he needed anything, he requested extra blankets. This seemed to be for comfort, as he used them as pillows and laid one over the sheets on the mattress. Otherwise, there is nothing else to report. He asked me for details on the date, and I hesitated to answer. I’m still not sure what I’m feeling over our bet, but my heart keeps skipping beats. Maybe I should go see a doctor?”

Report #2, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“Day two came with a string of complications, none of which seemed to affect Lupin or his seemingly unwavering determination to make it through this week. I hadn’t expected him to be so positive throughout this experience. So far he’s been nothing but smiles when in the past, it was always grandeur and posturing. I feel like he’s hiding something from me, though I can’t figure out what. I will get to the bottom of it, however. He can’t hide from me! I know all his secrets. Also… he called me ‘handsome.’ I’m not sure if that’s information I should share in my reports, but I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Report #3, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“I think his facade is starting to crack. When I approached his cell at the beginning of my shift, I found him shouting orders to the men guarding his door. Of course, this stopped once I announced myself. The men wouldn’t answer me when I asked what he had been shouting about. Instead, they told me it was nothing and, even when ordered, ignored me when I asked them to tell me. I entered Lupin’s cell angry, which was a mistake, because he caught me off guard with a hug from behind. I was so startled that I threw him off. Of course, he laughed about it. Sometimes I forget how damn good of a man Lupin can be. It takes a lot to piss him off. Apparently throwing him against a wall isn’t enough to break him down.”

Report #4, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“Day 4 and I think Yata has finally given up on me. He refuses to work with me on Lupin’s imprisonment, instead choosing to pursue the other three. So far, he hasn’t made much leeway. I warned him that this would be the case. Lupin might have screwed up by allowing himself to get caught, but Jigen and Goemon are a whole other monster when put together. And who even knows what’s going on with Fujiko? Lupin doesn’t seem to know where she is, but he’s not concerned, so neither am I. I instructed Yata to keep looking, if only to keep him from judging me. He seems disappointed in my deal with Lupin. Personally, I don’t see the issue with it if it keeps him in jail. We’ll have to see how it goes. That is, if Lupin makes it through all 7 days and Yata stops sighing whenever he looks at me.

Lupin was just as sugar-coated as usual today. He kept asking me opinions on things we could do during our date. I’m not sure if that was his way of flirting with me or if he was simply trying to make small talk. He does seem fairly sincere in his affections, but Lupin is like that with a lot of people. I don’t know if I can trust him. The men cheered when I exited the cell and I found several post-it notes with words of encouragement at my desk. I’m not certain I like what they’re all getting at.”

Report #5, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“We ran into our first actual issue with Lupin today. He seemed oddly defeated when I visited him in his cell, though he put up a facade almost as soon as he noticed me. Otherwise, he was energetic. I don’t know if being in the cell is starting to take its toll, or if he’s accepted his future imprisonment. He wasn’t lying when he said I’d done my research. The cell itself is tailor made to keep him contained, plus it’s at the back of the police station. If he were to escape, he’d have to go through me and every officer on duty in the office. He might be a master thief who had escaped from impossible odds time and time again, but everyone has their limit. He is just one man, and as far as Yata has told me, there’s no sign of Jigen or Goemon on their way to save him. As far as I can tell, they’ve abandoned him. Maybe that’s why he’s so listless? He’s probably missing his partners. I’ll try my best to make him happy during his time here, if only to wipe that hurt puppy look off his stupid monkey face.”

Report #6, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“I can tell Lupin is trying to come up with a way of escaping after our date in two days. He was restless when I found him this morning. I don’t think he’s really slept since I caught him, and while that shouldn’t concern me, it does. I tried asking him about how he was feeling, and he just dodged the question. I wonder if this is what he’s like with all of his partners. Is he open with Jigen, Fujiko, and Goemon? Or does he thrive on hiding behind a mask? He seems to be trying to convince me he’s fine, but I can see he’s not. I don’t think he likes being alone. He thrives off of other people, but I can hardly let him around other prisoners. It’s not that he’s particularly dangerous. He’s rarely even violent. He’s just flighty. If I let him anywhere but the bath house and his cell, he’ll get too many ideas and be out of my hands before I even know it. Maybe that’s not a risk right now with our date at the end of the week, but it becomes a risk as soon as that date is over. I’m not sure if this entire thing is just some elaborate scheme to take advantage of me, but he does seem to actually like me. I keep asking what it is he sees in me, an old police inspector, and he keeps saying the same thing. We’re destined rivals, which means we’re destined to be together.”

Report #7, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“The date is tomorrow night, which seems to have revived Lupin’s spirits a bit. He gave me a hug again when I entered his cell, though he waited until I could see him before actually doing it. This time, I didn’t throw him off me, though part of me kind of wanted to. I just can’t wrap my head around what’s happening here. We’re on the opposite sides of the law. I shouldn’t have this pressing need for him to be nearby, but I do. I’ve tried so long to push these feelings aside, or to channel them into capturing him, and now that I have, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’ve started to realize that this is the way it’s always been. That my desire to capture him was more than just my job. It was personal, and I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do about that. The men seem supportive, with the only detracting person still being Yata. He seems to have overall accepted the fact that this is something that’s happening. I don’t know how to explain to him why I have to do this. Hopefully, he’ll eventually understand.”

Report #8, Zenigata Koichi. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department:

“I still think Lupin is hiding something from me, and when I tried to ask about it, he once again ignored me. For now, I’m giving up on figuring it out by focusing on tonight. Lupin seemed over the moon when I talked to him about it this morning. I’m mostly nervous. I’m getting off an hour early to go home and prepare. The men seemed excited for me. They kept cheering me on about it. They even got Yata to join in, though he seemed embarrassed. It makes me happy to finally see him come around. Yata’s still new to this. I think it’s taken him a while to understand that the life of someone like us is not all about catching criminals. Sometimes, it’s about capturing them and then going on dates with them. I still can’t believe I agreed to do this.”

Chapter 3:

Zenigata pulled up to the police station embarrassed.

He was dressed in a dark brown pinstripe suit, with a pristine white dress shirt, a cream and gold striped tie, and an old pair dress shoes. He felt oddly stuffy when walking into the station. Like he looked out of place. Most of the people on duty complimented him as he passed, and suddenly he wished he had not gone without his hat. At least with it he could hide, and maybe get rid of this feeling of wanting to flee. This was Lupin’s reward, after all. He couldn’t back out now, not when the thief had buckled down and done what he had promised to, anyway.

He noticed about halfway through the office that most of his colleagues wouldn’t look him in the eye. Normally this wouldn’t be something that bothered him. He could be intimidating, especially to younger officers, based on his title alone, but this was different. People he’d worked with for years didn’t quite meet his gaze. They dodged his questions, welcomed him and asked him what he had planned, but they didn’t look at him. It got to the point that he thought something was wrong with the way he looked, and a wave of self-consciousness washed over him once again.

The only outlier was Yata, who led him back to Lupin’s cell with the same smile he always had on his face. He treated Zenigata as he normally did, and for the moment, that helped to calm him down.

“Is something wrong?” Zenigata asked as they passed the rows of desks.

Yata shook his head. “I don’t believe so. Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that everyone seems to be acting weird.”

Yata shrugged. “It’s not everyday a police inspector has a date with a world-renowned criminal. I’m not sure it’s surprising that they’re acting differently.”

Zenigata shifted the basket he had brought with him to rest under one of his arms. “You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Yata looked back, holding out his keycard, but not actually scanning it against the hidden scanner quite yet. “No. Why would I be mad?”

Zenigata rubbed his neck. “Well, I know this isn’t quite what you expected when you agreed to become my partner.”

Yata laughed and it surprised him. “With all due respect, sir, nothing we’ve done so far has been what I was expecting. It’s been fun though, and I hope we continue to work together.”

“So you’re really not upset at me?”

“No. I thought it was odd at first, but then the men reminded me that this is always how it’s been between you and Lupin.”

Zenigata was astonished. “That’s not true…”

Yata smiled. “Are you sure? From what they tell me, you’ve always been smitten with him.”

“That’s… okay, probably true, but I don’t know if ‘always’ is the word I’d use.”

“Whatever you say, Inspector.” Yata scanned the keycard, and punched in a code that was linked to his work phone. “You ready?”

Zenigata sighed, looking down at himself and the basket. He looked back up to Yata and nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

The feeling of nervousness was so strong his chest hurt. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting as Yata opened the door. Maybe it would be empty? Maybe this was how they discovered how Lupin had played them? Maybe it would be normal? He didn’t know.

What he wasn’t expecting was the sound of music, the smell of scented wax candles, or the shuffle of feet as Lupin rushed to finish whatever it was he was preparing. He stepped through to see the thief turn on his heel, greeting Zenigata just as the door to his cell slammed shut behind him.

“Pops! Welcome!” Lupin swung his arms aside to showcase what he had been working on. It was then Zenigata noticed that both the room, and Lupin, had been transformed to match that of some fancy French restaurant. There was a tall circular table in the middle of the room, covered by a bright white sheet. On this table sat a basket of red wine and two crystalline glasses, as well as two tall candles and a single red rose in a vase. On the floor near the table was a small black cassette radio playing a song Zenigata didn’t recognize. It said,

“ I ain't got any worries

And I ain't got any money

But luck seems to follow

Wherever I go

When you said hello

My luck disappeared

You didn't even know I cared. ”

Lupin wore a black three piece suit, fancier than anything Zenigata owned, with a white ruffled blouse, and shiny silver cufflinks. He was so surprised by this, he didn’t even hug back when the thief wrapped his arms around his shoulders. His mind was too preoccupied with trying to figure out how he’d done this, along with processing just how good Lupin looked in that suit.

“What is this?” Zenigata asked, voice weak.

Lupin pulled away from him and smiled. He led Zenigata to the table, and pulled out one of the two chairs for him to take. “Our date,” he said. “It’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

“How? How did you do this?”

Lupin’s smile turned into a grin. He picked up the glasses and placed one in front of Zenigata. “I enlisted the help of your men. They planned everything. All I did was order some stuff for Jigen to drop off. Like this wine, or my favorite suit.”

“They… really? Is that why they wouldn’t look at me as I was walking in?”

Lupin shrugged. “I guess they didn’t want to ruin the surprise. What do you think? Did they do a good job?”

“It’s perfect,” Zenigata said, still shellshocked. “Wait, did you say you’ve spoken to Jigen?”

“Yes, but not about escaping. I’ve kept my promise.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about. I just want to know how.”

Lupin looked guilty, and pulled at something at the top of his left ear. A thin flesh colored piece of metal appeared between his fingers and Lupin held it out to show him. “This is how. It’s an antenna with a builtin speaker and microphone. I connect it to this,” he removed another piece by his ear, “and I can talk to whoever it’s connected to like a cellphone.”

“Shit, didn’t think of that,” Zenigata said. He wasn’t really surprised. With the amount of contraptions Lupin had on his person at any one time, it was impossible to be alarmed by missing something.

Lupin’s expression of guilt shifted to pride and he grinned. “Clever isn’t it? I came up with it for situations just like this.”

“You came up with it for dates with police inspectors?” Zenigata smiled, watching as Lupin’s expression shifted once more into disdain.

“Quit being facetious. You know what I invented it for. Now drink your wine.”

Zenigata nodded and picked up his glass. “About that. You said Jigen dropped this off? How’d he do that without being caught?”

Lupin took a sip of his own glass, tipping it toward him. “He disguised himself as one of your officers. Said something about finding everything I asked for dropped off at the door with a note attached saying, ‘For Lupin.’”

“And they didn’t notice?”

Lupin bobbed his head. “What can I say? There’s truly no one out there like you, Pops.”

“Koichi.”

“Hm?”

“For tonight, call me Koichi. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Lupin laughed. “Yes it is. Doesn’t that mean you should call me Arsène?”

“Do you want me to?” Zenigata asked.

Lupin hid his face in his glass. “I wouldn’t be against it, though I cannot remember the last time someone called me by my first name. It might have been right before my grandfather died. I can’t be sure.”

“Well, Arsène , if it’s any consolation, I don’t remember the last time someone called me by my first name either.”

Lupin shivered and placed his glass back down on the table. “Okay, that’s gonna take some getting used to. It doesn’t even sound like my name anymore.”

“I can call you Lupin instead if you’d like.”

Lupin shook his head. “Nah, if it’s coming from you, Koichi. It’s fine.”

Zenigata smiled. He leaned forward in his seat and took another sip from his glass. “Alright, but we go back to normal after this. I don’t know how the men would react if they heard you calling me Koichi.”

Lupin nodded. “And I don’t know how Jigen would react if he heard you call me Arsène. He might actually kill me. He gets kind of touchy when it comes to things like that.”

“I don’t think Jigen would be capable of killing you,” Zenigata said. “One, you’re well… you and two, he loves you too much.”

“Oh he’s capable, alright. If Jigen wanted to, he’d be able to take me out in mere seconds. Luckily, as you said, he loves me.”

“A lot of people do,” Zenigata said.

Lupin leaned forward. The look on his face was wide and cocky. “Is one of those people you, Koichi ?”

The way Lupin purred his name gave Zenigata pause more than the actual question did. He found himself spluttering for an answer, his entire face flushed and bright red. “I… well . Yes. I suppose so.”

The song playing over the radio had long since repeated itself, playing softly to aid the thoughts running through Zenigata’s mind. Now it said,

“ Lucky-I can't be lucky in love

All my four leaf clovers

Can't do me no good

Funny, just when I needed to be lucky

Couldn't help but lovin' you

Lovin' you… ”

Lupin repeated the last of the lyrics in a whisper between them, wineglass all but forgotten and Zenigata the main focus of his attention. He reached forward and plucked the inspectors hands up off his lap, rubbing calloused thumbs over the top of both of them.

Zenigata stared at their entwined hands, and couldn’t help the thrum of emotion from rising deep within him. He almost felt like crying. He wasn’t quite sure why.

Lupin noticed this and smiled at him. He leaned farther forward, close enough that Zenigata could smell the wine on his breath. “I haven’t gotten a chance to tell you this yet, but you look wonderful tonight, Koichi. I wasn’t even expecting you to come dressed up.”

“I couldn’t very well show up in my regular clothes now, could I? Just because it’s been a while, doesn’t mean I don’t remember how to prepare for a date.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” Lupin said. “You’re perfect no matter what you’re dressed in.”

“That’s not true, but thank you anyway, Arsène.”

Lupin looked scandalized. “It is true, but you’re welcome.”

Zenigata felt awkward, but he plowed forward anyway. “You… you look nice tonight too. So nice in fact, I think I short circuited when Yata let me into your cell.”

Lupin giggled and nodded his head. “I noticed that, though I wasn’t sure if it was me or if it was everything we’d managed to sneak in.”

“It was both,” Zenigata said. “Though you were a big part of it.”

“Even in jail, I clean up pretty nice, don’t I?” Lupin looked down at himself and back up at Zenigata. “They even let me shave.”

“I can tell, and yes. You’re probably the most beautiful person I know.”

Lupin looked genuinely touched. “Even compared to Fujicakes?”

Zenigata nodded. “She doesn’t even begin to hold a torch to you. I promise.”

“Hey, Fuji-chan’s a knockout. Don’t underestimate her looks.”

“Don’t underestimate yours either,” Zenigata said. “You’re gorgeous, you know?”

“So I’ve been told,” Lupin smiled. “Hey, Koichi. I have a question.”

Zenigata dipped his head. “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Everything stopped, and the blush returned to Zenigata’s face. That song kept up it’s chorus, saying,

“ Couldn't help but lovin' you

Lovin' you… ”

“Yeah…”

Lupin inclined his head, letting go of Zenigata’s hands to press his own against his cheeks. His lips were soft as they met the inspector’s, sweet like wine and cherry chapstick. For several moments they stayed like that, lost in a world of warmth, love, and that happy song playing in the backdrop. Zenigata’s heart raced as the time went on, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. The kiss felt so right against him that he wished it would go on forever. The rush of air between them tickeled as their breaths quickened, and their tongues slid together through parted lips. It was like nothing Zenigata had ever experienced. Like lightning in a bottle or the unmistakable feeling he got during a car chase.

When they pulled apart, he wanted to go back in. When Lupin smiled at him, he did. The second kiss was faster, more passionate, but just as sweet. They pushed against each other, fighting for dominance. For a time, it was unclear who would break away first. It seemed to go on endlessly, but at long last, it was Zenigata who broke contact.

They came up from the kiss huffing into each other’s faces, out of breath but grinning like school girls. Lupin snuck his chair closer to Zenigata, and wrapped his arms around his back to bury his face in the inspector’s neck. He sighed heavily, purring almost like a contented cat.

“I’m glad we made that bet,” he said. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

Zenigata hummed and allowed himself to nuzzle his nose against the thief’s shoulder. “I did too. We should do this every time I catch you.”

“Thought I wasn’t getting away?” Lupin chuckled, and Zenigata felt it bubble between their chests.

“You’re not,” Zenigata said. “But in the case you do, I’m going to be extra determined to get you back.”

Lupin’s chuckled turned into genuine laughter, and he pulled away just enough to see Zenigata’s face. They were close enough that their knees pressed together, the fronts of each of their chairs practically touching. “Challenge accepted,” he said. “Though we don’t have to save these dates for every time you catch me.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Zenigata asked.

“Hey, the chase and date themselves might be fun, but I’d actually like to take you out sometime.”

“I wouldn’t be against that. This turned out to be more than I was expecting.”

“Is that a good thing?” Lupin asked.

Zenigata nodded and pressed his lips against Lupin’s forehead. “It’s the best.”

“Good,” Lupin leaned down onto his shoulder again. He grew heavy until, that is, he noticed something. He perked up. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

Lupin broke away from him to grab the basket Zenigata had deposited beside his chair. He held it out. “This.”

Zenigata slapped his forehead, having completely forgotten about his basket. He took it from Lupin and placed it on the table, opening it up and dropping its contents around the candles and rose. The moment he pulled out two containers of cup noodles, his electric kettle, and bottles of water, Lupin lost it. He nearly fell out of his chair laughing, and for a moment Zenigata grew defensive.

“What are you laughing at?”

The laughing continued. “Why…why did you bring cup noodles?”

“It was all I had.”

“But we’re on a date .”

Zenigata was confused. “So? They’re good and easy to make. There’s not much we can do in a jail cell so I had to improvise.”

“Yeah, but cup noodles? You could have ordered something from a restaurant and brought it with you.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Zenigata said. “And anyway, why does it matter? Why’s it matter what we eat?”

“It doesn’t,” Lupin said. “It’s just so incredibly you . I’m not sure what else I was expecting.”

“I’m not sure what you were expecting either.”

Lupin continued to laugh. “You realize the wine I asked for isn’t cheap, right? Wine and cup noodles. It’s so… perfect .”

Zenigata began to put his supplies away, offended by Lupin’s reaction. “If you don’t want ‘em, I’ll leave. Maybe this was a mistake after all.”

Lupin threw out his hands to stop him. “ No . No. Don’t go. I'm sorry. I’m not mocking you. It just caught me off guard, that’s all.”

“I can order something too if that’s what you’d prefer. I’m sure Yata would—”

“No. Make the damn noodles, Koichi. I’m sure they’ll be delicious.”

Zenigata slowly started to place his supplies back down on the table. “You’re sure?”

Lupin nodded. “I can’t wait to tell Jigen about this. He’ll get a kick out of it.”

“Alright,” Zenigata said. “I’ll be sure not to bring noodles with me on our next date.”

Lupin shook his head. “But you have to. At this point, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

“You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Perhaps, but it’s only because I love you.”

Zenigata stared at him, all the emotions of the past hour rushing back to flood his brain.

“I love you too,” he said, along with the chorus of that song, and the chuckles of his thief reverberating throughout the jail cell.

#lupin iii #koichi zenigata #arsene lupin iii #jigen daisuke #goemon ishikawa #lupin x zenigata #zenigata x lupin #luzeni #my writing

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hermannsthumb · 4 years ago

Note

If you're still taking requests!! Fake Dating situation where Newt and Hermann go to a public event together. they're used to being mistaken for a couple at the Shatterdome, so they expect to be mistaken for a couple at the event. But then they meet someone who definitely Does Not mistake them for a couple (because homophobia) and assumes they're just Very Good Friends. cue Newt and Hermann aggressively pretending to be a couple.

always and forever taking requests!!! this is such a fun one, THANK YOU

--------------

“We’ll have to go in eventually,” Newt says.

Next to him, Hermann silently fumes, apparently unable to decide whether to continue tugging at his stiff collar or grinding the bottom of his cane—over and over, in a sort of circle—against the sidewalk, leaving streaks of black rubber behind. “I hate these damn things,” he says under his breath, though it’s unclear whether he means his outfit or the event. Hermann’s dressed up tonight in a suit that’s hilariously oversized (even for him) and fraying in places, with a bowtie that he’s knotted crookedly. Newt wonders if the suit’s a hand-me-down from his brother. “Begging for funding, as if we haven’t anything better to do with our time. As if we’re not working for the better of all of them. It’s bloody degrading.” He works his jaw angrily. “And if that isn’t enough—everyone always makes—assumptions—about us.”

Oh, okay. The event. “Assumptions?” Newt says.

Hermann lets out a hiss of air between his teeth. “Assumptions,” he repeats, delicately. “About—ah—the certain nature of our relationship.”

“Oh,” Newt says. “Oh.”

At the last one of these things they went to, someone (actually generous enough to open their checkbook for once) asked Hermann whether they should make it out to the PPDC or Dr. Gottlieb and his husband. At the one before that, a dinner event, the name placards at their table said Dr. Newton Geiszler-Gottlieb and Dr. Hermann Geiszler-Gottlieb. Before that, at a more casual affair at an up-scale bar, some tech hottie sent Newt a martini, before hurrying over and apologizing in person that (gesturing between Newt and Hermann) he didn’t realize Newt was with someone. Newt really wishes Hermann would just get it through his head already that introducing someone as your partner and dropping the important research part of it tends to hold drastically different connotations outside of, like, the group of people who know them on the Shatterdome base, because that would clear up probably sixty percent of the confusion. If not just so he can pick up a few numbers at these things for once. Still, though—for some reason it’s never really bothered him like it clearly bothers Hermann, but Newt supposes he’s not exactly a catch by any standards, so it makes sense. “I just don’t know where they get the impression—” Hermann begins, and Newt interrupts him.

“Yeah, well, you should take it as a compliment,” he says. “You could do a lot worse than me.” He opens the door for Hermann and ushers him in. “Seriously, we’ll be late if we don’t go in now, and that makes it, like, twice as awkward.”

As usual, they have to sit through some incredibly boring speech about how they’re sitting among some of the best scientific minds of the century right now, how they’re honored to play host to their colleagues at the PPDC, how the buffet will opening shortly for dinner, and then a different person gets up and makes another speech, and then another person with another, until finally the first person gets back up and promises that closing remarks will be in three hours, and how they should all enjoy themselves until then. Claps. Under his breath, Newt says to Hermann, “Doubt it.”

“Which side shall I take, then?” Hermann sighs. He’s probably the only one in the room not clapping. He told Newt a while ago that he doesn’t like to put on airs, and especially not in the service of flattering someone’s ego, and he’ll only clap for a speech if he feels it deserves it. He’s such a weirdo.

Newt surveys the room, considering. Luckily, people tend to flock together in similar little groups at these things. Birds of a feather shit. “Left. Everyone on the right is too young and hip-looking, so that’s out of your range.” He gets a cane to his shin, and grins even has he winces. “Kidding. Let’s just do it together, it’ll make it more bearable.”

Their first target is a forty-something marine biologist who’s very excited to meet Newt— “I followed your research on jellyfish for years!” she says. “I had no idea you’d be here tonight!” —and who is more than happy to promise donating a little to help fund the war effort. Their next is someone younger than both of them, whom Newt suspects is heir to his dad’s tech company or something, and who is easily guilted into promising even more than the biologist. “We’re having a lot better luck than usual,” Newt says, as they watch the kid hurry away to mingle with a group of other twenty-somethings. “Do we look more, like, respectable tonight or something?”

“It’s the open bar,” Hermann says.

“Yeah, probably,” Newt agrees.

“And anyway, we’re still terribly behind on our goal, so there’s no use getting too pleased over ourselves,” Hermann says. He sniffs. “If you still want that bloody—whatever it was—kaiju spleen, we need at least—”

“Okay, okay,” Newt says.

He nods at a small group standing by one of the buffet tables, holding half-eaten plates. People tend to be in better moods when they’ve eaten something. Hopefully more generous moods too. “Let’s try them,” he says.

Hermann is the one to initiate the conversation this time, launching at once into a variation of the little script he and Newt penned so long ago the night before their very first gala. “Good evening,” he says. They get a few polite smiles and nods of acknowledgement in return. “I’m Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, and this is my partner—” Newt tries not to groan. “—Dr. Newton Geiszler. We’re here representing the PPDC tonight. I don’t suppose we could have a moment of your time?”

The mood of the group changes immediately, but why Newt can’t figure out; it’s like they suddenly go hostile on them. Hostile, and tense. Newt is suddenly astutely aware of how each of the three dudes have a good few inches on both him and Hermann. “The PPDC?” the guy in front says. He's not smiling anymore. Maybe they all supported the jaeger program defunding or something. “Sure.”

“Er,” Hermann says. He clears his throat. “Newton—that is, my partner and I work for the kaiju research division at the PPDC’s Hong Kong base. As you may well be aware, the latest cuts to the PPDC’s budget have been quite dev—”

“So you and your friend,” the guy says, with a little more emphasis on the friend than Newt would like, “are going around asking for donations? To help buy pencils or something?”

“Well. Essentially,” Hermann says. He doesn’t seem to have picked up on what Newt did, though he grows visibly nervous anyway. Outright hostility isn't anywhere near as common as indifference at these sorts of things. “Though, pencils is—er—a vast understatement.” He casts a furtive, desperate glance at Newt—a help me if Newt ever saw one. “My partner—Dr. Geiszler—simply doesn’t have enough funding for the samples he needs to study—and donations would certainly help with our funding for other necessary supplies—"

“I sure we’d love to help you and your friend,” the same guy says, and there’s no missing the emphasis this time, “but we’re a little busy at the moment. Please come back and talk to us later, though.”

Hermann clamps his mouth shut. Newt narrows his eyes, and in a move bold enough to surprise even himself, snags Hermann’s arm and links his own with it. “Sure thing,” he says loudly. Hermann goes rigid and stiff under him. “Come on, babe, let’s get something to eat. I know how you get when you’re hungry.” Then, before he can stop himself, he brushes a single kiss at Hermann’s cheek, and tries not to laugh at the looks they get.

He waits until they’re out of eyesight (Newt having had to sort of drag Hermann along with him) to drop Hermann’s arm. Hermann hasn’t moved a muscle since Newt touched him, and even now, he just sort of blinks at Newt. “What on Earth—?”

“Dude,” Newt says. “That guy was a total jerk. He thought we were together, and—”

“He did not,” Hermann says. “He kept calling you my ‘friend’. It was a bloody nice break from what usually happens, I might add, and now you’ve gone and—”

“Hermann,” Newt says. He sighs. “You’re, like, totally missing my point. He thought we were together.”

“But he called you—”

“Yeah, exactly,” Newt says.

Hermann blinks a few more times. “Ah,” he says.

“No way in hell do we need his money,” Newt says. “Anyway, sorry about the—” He touches Hermann’s cheek, and then gestures to Hermann’s left arm, which is now just sort of hanging limply at Hermann’s side. “I just wanted to screw with him. I won’t do it again, though—”

“No!” Hermann says quickly. The tips of his ears go red, and he fumbles as he grabs Newt’s arm again. A sudden warmth situates itself like pressure over Newt’s chest, identical to the kind that’s creeping up his wrist where Hermann’s fingers just grazed his bare skin, and he’s struck with the sudden bizarre urge to duck his head and blush himself. Since when has Hermann had this kind of effect on him? “What I meant to say is—” Hermann licks his wide lips. “He might still see us. We ought to—to keep up the ruse.”

“To really screw with him?” Newt says.

“For what other reason?” Hermann says.

Newt forces himself to keep a smooth, neutral expression as Hermann unwinds his arm to lace their fingers together instead, with a lot more awkward fumbling. “Uh-huh,” he says. He remembers how soft and smooth Hermann’s cheek had felt, so unlike his own, which can never seem to hold a clean shave. How nice Hermann's hand feels in his now. He’s definitely going to have to unpack this later. “Yeah, that’s—good idea, Hermann. Let’s do that.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Hermann's POV in this fic is just newt touching his hand - REALIZATION #Anonymous

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mushroommushy · 3 years ago

Text

Enter Bunnix

Evillustrator

#VoteMrsBustierBestTeacher

- Nathaniel’s birthday!

- He’s 15 now as well

- Really only the other rich kids know that it’s his birthday

- Mostly because he gets a bit overwhelmed with large amounts of attention on him

- He’s shy, let him be quiet in the back where he doesn’t get in trouble

- Because tomato here has some good o’l ✨trauma and daddy issues✨

- Nathaniel has a huge crush on Mari here

Alix: Nath, you have a crush on anyone that’s nice to you that you don’t consider family

Nathaniel, immediately: That’s not true!

- It is

- Nathaniel has internalized homophobia

- Not to say he’s rude to people who are gay!

- He just won’t let himself accept that he is gay

- Because he knows he would probably be sent away by his dad

- Alix managed to get her hands on a 72 piece set of copic markers and honestly

- Nathaniel wasn’t even surprised

- Chloe nearly made her dad buy Nathaniel a fucking house for his art on his birthday since it’s his stress reliever

- And god knows how much he needs to destress

- The poor boy literally uses every excuse he can to avoid his dad and stays at the school until it’s closed

- His dad is a heavy drinker, and is a violent drunk

- He has assaulted Nathaniel before

- He doesn’t have a mom, as she divorced his dad when he was little

- His dad didn’t even really raise him, blaming him for the divorce

- Even though he was the one that was cheating

- Alim has called him out on this several times

- Nathaniel considers Alim as his father as he raised him more than his bio dad

- Nath is also a history buff because of this

- Especially when it comes to historical art pieces

- Him and Alix have been caught clinging to each other regularly because that’s just a thing with Kubdels

- They will cling to you

- Nathaniel was drawing in science class and Mrs. Mendeleiev yelled at him for it

- She called him out on failing science to literally everyone else in the class room

- And then proceeded to insult his art harshly and send him to the principals office

- Alix was sitting next to Sabrina, who was having to grab her wrist so she didn’t jump out of her seat and break her nose

Sabrina: I would love to let you go and let you go feral on her but I don’t want you getting in trouble. But trust me, it’s tempting.

- Sabrina was really tempted to let her do that though as she was pissed too

- Chloe was not being restrained by Max however, and proceeded to absolutely destroy Mendeleiev for slandering Nathaniel

- Most of the class was pretty startled about this, since they had assumed she didn’t really care about anyone after Dark Cupid

- Marinette came in late, so she didn’t see Mendeleiev yell at Nathaniel

- Nathaniel was akumatized into Evillustator, with the goal of proving how good of an artist he is

- Marinette was in the group with Chloe and Sabrina

- Alix was partnered with Max and Kim

- Alix didn’t miss Alya saying unlucky and glared at her for it

- Chloe did ask if her and Sabrina could work alone but was still denied

- Marinette was not looking forward to working with them and was miserable, expecting to have to do all the work

- Chloe and Sabrina however, offered to split the work evenly between them

- Marinette didn’t believe them but agreed to it anyway

- Chloe was a little bummed about Alix not being in their group

Chloe: I wish Ally-kins was in our group. I suck at science.

Sabrina: Alix is who we want for history, not science.

- Marinette mistakes this for them using Alix for good grades because she’s smart and she ends up disliking them even more

- She makes a mental note to try and keep Alix away from them so they can’t use her

- Sabrina has more of a personality compared to canon

- She isn’t a pushover, and doesn’t do Chloe’s homework for her

- But she is extremely smart, able to complete complex math problems in seconds

- Sabrina however is hyper and gets excited when she has a new friend

- Chloe is just snickering as she circles Marinette like a puppy

- The three of them end up working in the library for a little while

- Sabrina was muttering about how she was annoyed that she wasn’t able to give Nathaniel his present

Marinette: Present?

Sabrina: It’s his 15th birthday today! Alix already gave him some copics. I had gotten him a new tablet that came with an apple pen since he’s been wanting one.

Chloe: He wouldn’t let me get him a studio, so I just got him one of the Limited Edition Graf von Faber-Castell pencils.

Sabrina, choking: How did you get your hands on one?! Theres 10 and they cost $12, 800 each!

- Cue Marinette cursing and wondering why she didn’t know that and why the hell they spent so much money

- Chloe still gave Sabrina the hat because she had it on her

- Mendeleiev was in the courtyard when a giant Bunsen Burned started chasing her

- Alix had peaked out of the art room to see that

- She was with Max and Kim still though and couldn’t transform

- Chat Noir showed up, destroying the Bunsen Burner and looking around for the cause

-Evillustrator was on the second floor and rolled his eyes when Chat spotted him

- Chat was noticeably upset realizing it was Nathaniel who was akumatized

- Ladybug showed up soon after and both ran into a wall

- Alix was a little freaked out about the situation and super worried about him

- She had just had to sit out on fighting her brother now it’s her best friend?

- Chloe was clearly worried as well and nearly screamed when Evillustrator popped up for a moment to hug her and Sabrina

- Sabrina did actually scream

- He left before Ladybug and Chat got after them

- Ladybug was quite angry with them, assuming that Chloe was the reason that he was akumatized

Ladybug: You got another person akumatized? This is the second one!

Sabrina: Hey, Chloe didn’t do anything to Nathaniel! She defended him! Mrs. Mendeleiev is the one who hurt his feelings!

- Bunnix showed up and Chloe fangirled immediately

- She doesn’t like Ladybug as much with the false accusation and assuming

- But didn’t blame her too much as she wasn’t aware

- Ladybug just sighed and went home, detransforming in her room at the same moment Evillustrator came in

- She nearly hit him with a peel

- Marinette didn’t really know how to react about the fact he had a crush on her

- I mean, she barely knew Nathaniel

- She didn’t even know that it was his birthday

- She did agree to coming to his birthday party, feeling bad

- Then noticed that his iPad was buzzing like crazy

Marinette: Your iPad seems to be getting notifications quite a bit

Evillustrator: Huh?

You have 7 missed calls

Alix Kubdel: Nath, please where are you. You’re making me scared.

Adrien Agreste: Nathaniel? Please, answer. We’re here for you.

Sabrina Raincomprix: We’ll make sure Mendeleiev is punished for this! We all love you very much.

Chloe Bourgeois: This isn’t your fault Nath. I’ll get daddy to do something, I promise.

Jalil Kubdel: You ok little brother? You can stay with us tonight. You don’t have to deal with the scumbag. We’ll keep you safe, always. I heard you were akumatized. You’ll be ok soon, I promise.

- He actually started crying

- He didn’t realize that they cared so much

- Marinette had texted Alix that Evillustrator was in her room

- She got close to the bakery as Bunnix and then detransformed

- She had tackle hugged Evillustrator as soon as she got to the room

- Hawkmoth of course was screaming in his head to attack

- But this only made him even more irritated with Hawkmoth, Nathaniel being able to shove down his negative emotions

- This is how he managed to become the first person ever to break akumatization on his own

- Both Alix and Marinette of course were shocked

- They didn’t even know that was possible

Alix: I..Nath..

Nathaniel, coughing with a smile: Love you too sis.

- Marinette trapped the Akuma in a glass bowl so it couldn’t escape and cause a stone heart situation

- Alix was so incredibly proud of him and hugged him even tighter

- Marinette joined in on this too

- When Chat reached the scene, he was stunned

Chat Noir: Did you two break the object?

Alix: Nope..he rejected it himself.

- Alix was so freaking proud of him

- Nathaniel ended up staying with the Kubdels that night instead

- Alim had even gotten him a gift and planned a trip for his birthday

- They watched Nathaniel’s favorite movie, ignoring Nathaniel’s dad the whole night

- The class had crowded him with questions on how he broke akumatization

- Which he just answered by saying that he loved his family enough

- Chloe got her dad to fine Mendeleiev too

#Enter Bunnix

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taexual · 5 years ago

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i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (6)

jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: angst + maybe jealous!kook 👀

words: 3.2k

chapter six

You stayed in the whole day on Sunday – which was nothing new since you had three classes to prepare for on Monday, not to mention a possible encounter with Jungkook to brace yourself for – so, going out the next morning, even if it was 8:30 AM, felt surprisingly refreshing. After not talking to anyone besides your roommate the whole day yesterday, it felt unexpectedly nice to make some small-talk with other people.

You got coffee at the local coffee shop before heading to your first class and were surprised to feel your stomach fill with disappointment when the class started and Jungkook didn’t show up. Although, truth be told, you weren’t sure if he was even taking this class at all. Knowing his weekend habits, taking a 9 AM class on a Monday morning seemed like a sure-fire plan for failing. And, honestly, you shouldn’t have cared about his whereabouts anyway. But you did as you found yourself looking for him in every class you went to that day, nearly forgetting your plans to meet up with Namjoon in the afternoon.

You ended up not seeing Jungkook today, after all – good! – and you returned to your dorm, feeling somehow let down – bad! – and annoyed. Grateful for the plans you’d made with Namjoon, you mentally cursed yourself for getting attached to people so easily, and headed to the kitchen for a quick snack before you prepared the work space.

You had already cleared your desk, found the movie you’d promised to show Namjoon, and even started to read one of the books for the project, when your phone buzzed.

Thinking it was your partner for Sociology letting you know he was on his way over, you were in no hurry to pull back from the chapter you’d just started. But as soon as you teared your eyes away from the book and checked the screen of your phone, a bolt of electricity struck you.

It was Jungkook calling you.

You figured that the two of you must have had a similar thought process because you’d wanted to call him as well, but – contrary to him, by the looks of it – you ended up choosing to stay away. All of your restraint would have backfired if you’d seen him in class today – you were sure of it – but you chose not to dwell on that right now. You focused on your success instead; you’d avoided him for almost two days now – what’s another two years, right?

However, as you stared at his name on the screen of your phone, you really wanted to answer the call. You wanted to hear his voice.

And yet, you could already imagine the conversation you were going to have.

Apologizing wasn’t something that was difficult for you. You could have easily told him that you’d overreacted when you’d last seen him. But an apology would have brought closure, and closure would bring another attempt at a friendship that would eventually end – just like it did before.

The end seemed inevitable. You’d be heartbroken for another seven years – okay, maybe not heartbroken, but it would definitely sting for many more years to come, just as it had before – while he’d be fine, playing shows with his best friends and getting drunk every weekend.

So, choosing to suffer and not give in to your impulses – because it was supposed to save you a lot of pain in the long run – you did not pick up his call. Just a few days of talking to him had already messed you up enough, who knew how strong of a hold he’d establish on you if you allowed him into your life again? You had to learn from your past mistakes and stop putting him first.

The call ended almost as soon as you decided not to answer and you felt yourself release a shaky breath that you’d been holding as your phone vibrated restlessly.

You’d persevered this time. Maybe you’d manage to keep this up all the way to graduation – “Do you still plan everything out in advance?” Jungkook’s voice asked in your head, – but, just in case you couldn’t, you turned the vibration on your phone off and placed it—screen-down—on your desk.

Several minutes later, Namjoon finally arrived with a tentative knock on the door of your room – he wasn’t sure if he got the number right – and the two of you immediately got to work, setting a plan for your project and looking through the books you’d picked up at the library a few days ago.

“We have far too many articles we can use as references,” Namjoon said, thirty minutes into your work session. He had glasses on but he’s been looking down at the desk for so long, they had slipped to the very tip of his nose. “Maybe we should focus on the newest ones?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, getting fidgety after sitting still for so long. “Not going to lie, though, this topic is starting to seem less and less interesting with every new monograph I open.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” he said with a sigh as he brought his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Do you want to take a break? We got through four books already, that’s progress.”

You leaned back in your chair, relieved to hear this suggestion and Namjoon laughed, understanding your answer without hearing you say it.

“We could, uh, watch the movie now if you’d like,” you said then. “Hopefully it’ll inspire us to keep working.”

He doubted a horror movie could inspire you to keep reading the unnecessarily complicated books about the connection between humans, but he’d been looking forward to watching it and, therefore, could not say no. Not to mention, you looked too tired to keep working and he felt bad.

“Alright, sure,” he said, “it’ll be a good distraction. It’s been a long day today anyway.”

“It really has,” you agreed and turned your laptop to face yourself, “I’ll set it up and—”

“Oh!” he gasped suddenly, sitting up straight and startling you. “I was going to bring popcorn! I forgot. I came here right from my last class.”

The thought was really sweet – because you didn’t ask him to bring anything – and it got you to smile.

“That’s okay,” you said and then remembered, “actually, there’s a convenience store across the street, I could go get it.”

“I’ll do it,” Namjoon said, his determination bringing him out of his chair and into your hallway before you could react. “I’m the guest here, after all! And I shamelessly came without anything.”

He was now calling out to you from the other room as he put his shoes on, so you stood up and walked to the threshold of the bedroom.

“Well, to be fair, as the host, I should have been the one to provide the popcorn,” you pointed out but Namjoon was already halfway out the door.

He chuckled at this, fixing his glasses again as he grabbed his backpack, double-checking if the wallet was there.

“It looks like we’re both still learning the proper etiquette,” he said with a good-natured smile. “I’ll get the popcorn. You set up the movie.”

He assigned jobs for you and himself again – it was something he seemed to do a lot as you’d noticed in class – but you found that you didn’t mind his bossy nature. It was nice to be around someone who knew what had to be done and didn’t waste any time with the pleasantries, telling the people around him what they had to do point-blank.

“Yes, sir,” you said and Namjoon considered apologizing for ordering you around but when he lifted his eyes to meet yours, he saw a humorous smile on your lips.

With a small--relieved--chuckle, he nodded one last time and promised to be right back before exiting your dorm and walking down the hall for the elevator.

Left alone, you automatically reached for your phone and only remembered why you’d placed it screen-down when you saw the three missed calls from Jungkook. Apparently, he’d called you twice more after you didn’t pick up.

Inhaling sharply you—pointlessly—tried to convince yourself that your heart had started to beat faster because it was just bored after having been still for so long – yeah, right – and not because Jungkook was fighting for this harder than you’d expected him to.

Then, suddenly, there came a knock on your door.

Confused, you put your phone down and headed back into the hallway of your dorm. If Namjoon forgot something, he could have just entered since the door was unlocked anyway, but he must have been too well-mannered to enter someone else’s house without an invitation—

It wasn’t Namjoon.

“Hi,” Jungkook said when you opened the door. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and he lowered his eyes as soon as he saw your face, but not soon enough. You still caught the sight of a bloody gnash running down his left cheekbone.

“Jungkook—what—” you started to say but then ended up stumbling over your own thoughts as you weren’t sure what to ask him first – why he was here, or why he was bleeding. “What happened?”

“Hmm?” he appeared to have been expecting a different question. “Oh—nothing.”

It was clearly not nothing as the boy in front of you purposefully turned his whole body so he could hide the injured part of his face without raising any suspicions – which rose all the suspicions as he stood with his body unnaturally twisted towards the wall next to your door.

“Were you in a fight?” you asked, even though the answer was loud and obvious, and literally right there on his face.

“No—well, yeah, but it’s not serious,” he said, refusing to look at you still. He didn’t come here to stare at the floor but he – like a dense idiot that he sometimes was – did not expect you to ask him about the wound. “It’s just—I wasn’t in the mood and someone provoked me. It’s stupid.”

Stupid or not, he got hurt again even before his injuries from the drunken car accident had time to heal. You craved to know the reasons why he kept putting himself into these sort of situations but you weren’t going to ask; you couldn’t – not after your last conversation.

“You’re bleeding,” you pointed out the obvious.

“I know. It’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine but your heart was beating too fast and you couldn’t focus on one thing at a time. Finally, you asked him the one question he’d prepared himself for.

“What are you doing here?”

Jungkook raised his eyes to yours and explained very simply, “you didn’t answer my call.”

He said it as if the line of actions leading up from you, not answering his call, to him, showing up on your doorstep, was straight, natural, and absolutely understandable.

You didn’t know what to say to that – it was a comment about as obvious as the “you’re bleeding” one that you’d made just a second ago – but since you were exchanging observations instead of offering explanations, you leaned against the door-frame with your shoulder and crossed your arms over your chest, ready to keep going.

“Right,” you said. “You weren’t in class today.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded and, finally, provided an explanation – however poor it was – for (some of) his actions, “I wasn’t—I didn’t feel like coming.”

You weren’t in a position to question him about this further. And even if you were, he probably wouldn’t have answered you anyway – his defensive stance made that very clear.

“I see,” you said. “Okay.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said again – it was the only word he seemed to have no problems with – and then added after a moment’s hesitation, “I know it’s not a good enough reason but—”

You cut him off, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

If you didn’t know better, you’d have thought he flinched as he watched your eyes for a lingering moment and then took half a step back. “No, I’m just—”

“Like you said,” you reminded him then, your crossed arms suddenly threatening, “it’s none of my business.”

Jungkook swallowed, his jaw clenched. “”I’m—uh, about what I said… I—”

“Jungkook,” you said and the sound of his name coming from your lips – even under such uncomfortable circumstances – sounded pleasant to his ears. “You… you probably shouldn’t have come.”

You were pushing him away. For the first time in your life, you were standing up to him and Jungkook – with a bruised sense of self-worth and a chest that throbbed with pain much worse than the wound on his cheek – couldn’t help but feel a little scared. You weren’t relenting to him. You weren’t letting him have his way.

Seven years have ensured you learned from your past mistakes.

And that was why Jungkook did not—could not—walk away from your door. He had to prove himself to you now – he’s never had to do that to anyone who wasn’t his father before. And in this particular moment, proving his worth to his father seemed much easier than proving it to you.

“I know that,” he said, now wary that the damage he’d done to your friendship may have been irreversible. “I just didn’t like the way our last conversation ended. I said some things I shouldn’t have said.”

You sighed. “I—no, look. It was me who started it. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that so out of the blue.”

“No, don’t. You had every right to do that. It was—”

“Jungkook,” you said again and if you weren’t going to stop saying his name, he felt like he might have to get his hands out of his pockets and touch you because this was starting to become a torture. “Even though we could have been more mature and just talked about it, you were right when you said that it wasn’t my business to worry about you. It really isn’t.”

He swallowed, a sparkle of fire flickering in his eyes. “No, it’s—”

“No,” you cut him off one last time because you knew something was going to stop you from doing it again: either you wouldn’t manage to open your mouth or he’d throw you against the wall to stop you from talking in some different way because, God knew, Jungkook sure looked like he was seconds away from doing just that. “It’s probably not a good idea for us to—”

“Oh,” a surprised gasp was suddenly heard down the hall. Automatically, both of you turned your heads to look.

Namjoon was coming out of the elevator a few feet down, several bags of popcorn kernels in his hands. He looked confused and even a little embarrassed to have spoken aloud, but his flustered state did not come close to match yours.

“Namjoon,” you said, clearing your throat.

“Namjoon?” Jungkook repeated through clenched teeth, his eyes focused on the unfamiliar guy in front of him. He’d never seen him before but Namjoon had no trouble recognizing the vocalist of Parental Advisory glaring at him.

All of a sudden, Jungkook had switched from agitation and turned to pure irritation – how dare this other guy interrupt you two? – that was quickly replaced by fury – how dare this other guy be your acquaintance that was, obviously, on his way to your dorm? – and you felt the need to do some damage control.

You swore you felt less uncomfortable on the very first date you’d ever gone to – the guy tried to kiss you and bumped his forehead into yours so hard, you thought he gave you both concussions – and, up until this moment, that has been one of the few memories that still made you cringe to this day. This was going to beat it for sure, though.

As you watched Namjoon and Jungkook eye each other warily – and, in Namjoon’s case, awkwardly because he wasn’t sure what exactly he’d just walked into – you wished the earth would swallow you whole because you didn’t know what to say to them – you weren’t dating either of them, so what was there to say, really? – let alone what to do now.

Slamming the door and barricading yourself inside of your room started to seem appealing.

“We’re doing a project together,” you ended up saying, your eyes on Jungkook, even though, objectively, you knew you didn’t owe him an explanation.

And yet, as Jungkook refused to look away from Namjoon, you began to fear that getting into two fights in the span of a few hours, wouldn’t be something that Jungkook was above of. And Namjoon – who was, honestly, just an outsider caught in the middle of something you couldn’t understand yourself – didn’t deserve to get punched simply for getting the popcorn too quickly.

“Yeah,” Namjoon spoke. He felt like he had to say something – you’d have disagreed, convinced that the wrong word from him could have provoked Jungkook to act irrationally – because, reading your body language, he could tell that you were having a conflict with yourself. “We have a project due—”

“You were right,” Jungkook suddenly turned to look at you, his eyes narrow and fierce. You swallowed but didn’t get to say anything back because he added, “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“You—”

If his words didn’t shut you up, then the fact that, as soon as he said them, he turned around on his heels and walked right past Namjoon and towards the staircase certainly did.

Blinking in surprise at his abrupt departure – although, maybe you should have been grateful that he left instead of starting a fist-fight – you glanced at Namjoon who was clumsily making his way towards you.

“I feel like I’ve made the situation a lot worse by opening my mouth,” he said timidly, “or, actually, maybe I made it worse when I got off the elevator. I’m sorry.”

“It’s—no,” you shook your head, moving to a side so he could come in. “It was already bad before you got here.”

Namjoon hesitated outside of your door, not daring to enter. “Are you and him—?”

“No,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear the word that was coming. “We just—we have some unresolved issues, clearly, but we’re—we’re not—”

“I really am sorry if I interrupted,” he said, noticing how much you struggled with the word-that-must-not-be-said.

“It’s okay,” you told him with what you thought was a small smile – but, really, your lips just barely twitched – and Namjoon finally – albeit uncertainly – entered your room. “There wasn’t anything to interrupt. He was about to leave anyway.”

But even though you’d said this, Namjoon wasn’t entirely convinced and apologized several more times throughout the movie. You kept telling him that it was fine – because it really was – but, about thirty minutes into Hereditary, you were no longer really listening to what he was saying, and it wasn’t because you were too into the movie.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the look in Jungkook’s eyes as he walked away. It was the same look as the one you’d seen right before he drunkenly climbed behind the wheel of a car that night at the party.

keep reading | masterlist

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts #bts fanfiction #bts reactions #bts angst #fanfiction #jungkook au #bts au #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #jeon jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #college au #bts college au #jungkook college au

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