#which is exciting. trying to still shove myself in positions to meet new people in ways that dont stress me out

[lordsardine]

.

[edie-baby]

to have and to hold | juri vips

summary: Juri Vips was a bastard of a teammate. Mostly just because you were insanely in love with him and his flirtatious ways. Juri senses a change in your behaviour and when things begin going back to normal, Juri just fucks it up again. (Similar premise to the Mr & Mrs imagine with Liam, but different[?])

word count: 2894

warnings: swearing, still. i don't think i should have to put warnings about swearing anymore, it's basically a given.

Working with Juri Vips was a fucking trainwreck. There was no light way to put it, it was messy, it was painful, and yet you could never stop fucking staring at him. Being his teammate in F2 for the past year and a half, the two of you had gotten quite close, to the point where his family invited you on vacation with them when they were going, and you had joined them once, but realised about two hours in, that it was a thinly veiled attempt from literally his entire family to get the two of you together.

And while you were all for it, being forced to spend so much time with Juri, while he was shirtless nonetheless, was a literal dream come true, it was also incredibly painful for you to stop from pouncing on him at any given moment. Because as much as his family thought there was something between you, it was purely Juri’s charisma and character to be almost constantly flirting with you.

You remember the first time the two of you, a few other F2 drivers had come along as well, had gone to the beach and he had seen you bust out the bikini you knew made you look like a hot piece, he hadn’t shut up about it, or you, for weeks afterwards.

“Well look at you, little miss supermodel. I would have thought you’d be walking catwalks with legs like that, not pushing pedals like the rest of us. God, you look like you just stepped out of my dreams and onto this beach. If you keep looking like that, I think I might have a problem to deal with later in the shower.” He had hollered, and many of the guys around you either joined in or had nothing to say but gawk. Juri’s comments had cemented themselves in your brain however, calling back upon them whenever you felt less than top dollar, which you had to admit was becoming more often in recent months.

Juri had noticed your slowly waning confidence, of course he had. His gorgeous view of you in crop tops, little skirts, and tight shorts had turned into oversized shorts, hoodies, and ill-fitting jeans. All of which still made you the most beautiful girl in the world, but there was something missing from your aura, a general happiness that had been lacking since the new season started a few months ago. In the entire time Juri had known you, you were never one to listen to other’s opinions of you, whether they be good or bad, the only people you had ever listened to and taken words to heart from were himself, your parents, and your boyfriend.

Somehow in the span of about three minutes, Juri had tracked the four most likely culprits of your diminished ego. He knew he hadn’t said anything harmful or damaging to you since the season began, as many of your conversations had revolved around racing, other drivers in the paddock, or your family. Your parents, he was confident in, he had met them many times before, and they were always genuinely warm and welcoming, he supposed there might have been another side to them, though he believed he would have picked up on it by now. Which leaves only your boyfriend, whom Juri had zero confidence in.

Tye was nice, almost disgustingly so, but he was also much too proud of being nice for it to be genuine. He would open car doors for you, give you flowers every few months, and once bought you a necklace with a pendant of his name. But you would never forget that he did those things for you, because as soon as you would mention something relatively negative, those few acts of kindness were shoved down your throat.

Juri, of course, was not privy to that information. All he knew was that Tye’s possessive behaviour and complete lack of care for your wishes meant that there was something beneath the surface Juri was sure was the reason for your confidence, or lack thereof.

So when you came into work one day, to continue shooting some videos for the YouTube channel, wearing a gorgeously fitted pair of jeans, and a halter-neck singlet, Juri knew something was afoot. Also notable was your lack of gold necklace and your beaming smile toward the Estonian.

“You gonna keep staring like that, or do you want to take a photo?” You asked, your voice holding the teasing lilt Juri had missed in the past weeks. Without breaking his gaze from your body, Juri reached into the pocket of his shorts, his hand retrieving his phone and taking a photo of you standing there, tight clothes and bright smile in all its glory. He smirked when he saw your barely concealed smile.

“You’re in a much better mood than usual. What happened?” Juri couldn’t help but ask, the drastic shift in your mood was more than intriguing to him. Your smile widened, taking the last few steps toward his position in a chair behind the large conference table.

“I lost 80 kilos last night.” You whispered, leaning in closer to Juri, the glint in your eyes, the proximity and the tone were all so familiar to him that he couldn’t help but meet you halfway, barely three inches between your faces as the words processed in his mind.

Juri glanced down at your body confusedly, trying to figure out where exactly the 80kg had disappeared from. Then, the pieces began clicking into place. The lack of gold necklace, the tighter clothes, the glowing smile, none of which would have been staring Juri in the face if Tye had a say.

“You dumped Tye?” Juri questioned, his eyes lighting up, his raise in volume betraying just how excited he was for you, and himself. You nodded, eyes softening as you watched the pure joy cross Juri’s face. Him being happy was something that always warmed your heart, but Juri being happy about you finally being happy? You were sure your knees were about to buckle.

“I’m glad. I can have you all to myself now.” Juri grumbled, reaching for your hands that were braced against the arms of his chair. With a sharp tug, your balance was offset, and your body was tumbling toward Juri’s. You landed with a giggle in Juri’s lap, his own laughter joining yours and the two of you simply enjoyed each other’s presence after having an intangible wall built between you during your relationship with Tye.

Juri couldn’t hold a taken woman like he loved her, not when that taken woman wasn’t his to hold. And you, how could you revel in the feel of man’s touch that was anyone’s but the man you supposedly loved. You couldn’t break out in goosebumps, or have a shiver roll down your spine when you felt the familiar pressure of his calloused fingertips pressing into the skin of your back, desperate to keep you close. You weren’t allowed to sigh in content when you felt the warmth of his body seep into your skin, or whimper when his hot breath rolled over the skin of your neck.

But now you could. Now, without the moral implications of enjoying another man, you could sink into this all-consuming feeling you have when Juri is near.

“Morning you two. We’ve got a video to film in the garage if you want to follow me?” The social media manager, Georgina,  a lovely woman in her 40s whom you always went to for advice and style tips, poked her head into the room you and Juri were tangled in, a cheeky smile on her face when she spotted the somewhat compromising position. A blush fell heavy on your cheeks, and you were quick to try and scramble away from Juri.

He had other ideas though. When Juri began moving, you clutched onto him for dear life, terrified of falling to the ground even though it was only about two feet. Your arms circled around his neck, your legs fully wrapping around his hips from where you were straddling him on the chair. His large hands came to rest on the underside of your thighs, hoisting you up higher on his body. Your legs clenched around his middle, the feel of his fingers pushing into the soft skin of your legs was electrifying, and you were sure if you didn’t have a video to film, you would have been telling the Estonian to find an unoccupied office to take what he needed from you.

But alas, you had a job to do. So, still wrapped around Juri like a vice, he carried you through the Hitech office, nodding to other staff you passed, and occasionally nuzzling his nose into your neck to get a good whiff of your perfume. Juri had said multiple times the scent was intoxicating and could bring any man to his knees. You may have gone out and bought an extra bottle to ensure you never ran out after that.

After a few minutes, you stepped into the garage with Juri, well, he stepped in you just kind of floated in. The scent of grease, rubber and a slight hint of fuel invaded your nostrils, and you sighed in content. Juri chuckled at your actions, he always loved watching you step into a garage, or out onto the pit lane to take in the smells of burnt rubber. You told him every time he laughed at you that it evoked a calm feeling within you, it was nostalgic, filled with happy memories from your childhood and the memories of races you shared with Juri on track.

“Alright lovebirds, can we get you in these chairs and we’ll start explaining while we finish getting set up.” Georgina stated, smiling fondly at the love between her two youngsters. Juri sat you down in one of the chairs sitting before the cameras, not leaving your side for long as he planted himself in his own chair and dragged you as close as possible.

Georgina explained the rules of the game, and the way you would be playing it, choosing you to sit in the background listening to music whilst Juri answered questions about you. First, they gave you a list of questions about yourself, asking to circle the correct answers and they would be compared to Juri’s during the game.

“Ok Juri, the first question. How old was Y/N when she started karting?” Georgina questioned. She watched you in the background closely to ensure you couldn’t hear anything, but you were blissfully unaware of everything around you, headphones in your ears, legs tucked up on the chair, scrolling through your phone with the occasional giggle escaping your lips. Each time Juri heard the angelic sound, he would turn to look at you with a look so soft it made the entire team’s heart swell.

“Uh, I think she was 10, I know she started late because she had to argue with her parents to let her do it with her brothers, and I think 10 is about the right age.” Juri answered, looking as though he was thinking quite hard about it. It had been a long time since the two of you discussed your start in karting, it was one of the first conversations you had together, and since then you hadn’t had to talk about generic teammate topics. Juri was proud that he remembered something seemingly insignificant from a year and a half ago, but supposed when it came to you he could never forget a thing.

“Alright, next question. What is Y/N’s biggest fear? Is it A, the ocean, B, goblins, or C, heights?” Juri’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he heard the second answer, trying to figure out why it was even an option in the first place. His eyes focused on one spot on the floor, his brain moving a mile a minute to analyse conversations he had with you.

“Well, we’ve been to the beach together a few times, and thinking back I don’t think she’s ever gotten into the water. So maybe the ocean, but she also said once when we were looking at a castle that she doesn’t like gargoyles, so goblins could be a thing. But she’s definitely not scared of heights. She’s gone skydiving, bungee jumping and climbed bridges and things like that. So I’m going to say the ocean. I feel like I would definitely know if she was scared of something like goblins.” Juri laughed, his eyes still glued to the spot on the floor, his thoughts flowing through his mouth with little consideration of how they could be interpreted.

“What is something Y/N never leaves the house with?” Georgina was hopeful for this question, she was sure it could be the catalyst for the two drivers to finally own up to their feelings after reading your answer. Juri listened to the multiple choice answers, but none of them sounded just right.

“So, the rings sound the closest, but sometimes she will wear lots, and other times only a few, and when she can’t wear them on her hands, she’ll thread it onto a necklace to wear under her race suit, or something so yeah, I’d say the rings.” Juri answered, turning to look at you behind him, wearing the exact ring he was talking about on the ring finger of your right hand.

“And what ring is the one she wears on her necklace?” Georgina probed, knowing the answer and just wanting to see the way Juri heated up when he talked about it.

“Uh, it’s a diamond ring that has a J engraved on the inside.” Juri answered, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink. A smile broke out on your face as you watched Juri, his flustered state always made you giggle as he was such a confident and put-together person usually. As a habit, you began spinning the ring on your right hand around, feeling the shape of the diamonds and knowing the initial carved into the inside was a claim over you.

“Do you know where she got it?” Georgina asked. She was getting frustrated, Juri was much more calm about revealing the intimacy of the ring than she had hoped.

“I gave it to her. About a year ago, and then she gave me a necklace with an (your initial) on it. I wear it every day, and it’s the only piece of jewellery I wear while I drive.” Juri answered, his fingers reaching up to toy with the thin gold chain hidden beneath his shirt. He looked over his shoulder at you, spotting the spinning ring immediately and smiling at you.

You looked up at him, a dazed look as you stared at the gorgeous man in front of you. He could see the stars in your eyes, staring at him as though he hung the moon, and if he was honest with himself, if you asked, he would. There was nothing you could ask of him that would be too much, even if you didn’t ask, he would do everything for you. No one had ever held this power over him, he wasn’t even sure it would feel this good if it were anyone else, but you just did something to him. You unlocked a part of him he didn’t know existed.

You were just, everything. To him. You were everything he ever wanted, ever needed, even everything he didn’t know he needed. You opened him up, poured sunshine into his life in the form of your smile, happiness penetrated his bones because of your laugh. He didn’t want to lose that again, didn’t want to lose you to another man. He needed you, and he needed you now.

It was like slow motion, the way Juri surged out of his chair toward you, his hands cupping your jaw roughly as he guided you to your feet. The laptop on the ground pulled the earphones from your ears, your phone clattering to the floor in your surprise. Your hands reached up to fist in his shirts, not wanting to lose this proximity. You had him in your grasp and you’d be damned if you ever let him go again.

Juri pressed his lips to yours, as soft and warm as you’d imagined them so many times before. You kissed him back with ferocity, the eighteen months worth of emotion poured into a kiss to communicate your feelings in a way that didn’t need words. He kissed back just as fiercely, his hands holding your face still to allow him to do exactly what he needed. You were pliable to his every demand, putty in his hands. Juri had always had this effect on you, every fleeting touch or brush of a hand on your waist made your knees weak and your stomach flutter with the force of a thousand butterflies.

Juri pulled away, barely a breath between your lips as he panted slightly. Your eyes were trained on his lips, the fullness of his bottom lip, the redness from your assault on them making them look all the more kissable.

“So, how about we switch that ring to the other hand and really make this a Mr & Mrs video?”

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part One

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker (platonic), background MCU characters

Warnings: [chapter] language; [series] language, smut, violence

Summary: The only people who knew she was actually a Stark were her dad, her step-mom Pepper, and her “uncles” Happy and Rhodey. A promotion within Stark Industries takes her from an already-sought after position in the Weapons Anaylsis Unit straight to the Avengers as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist... which means her dad is her new boss. There’s only one rule at work: no fraternizing with coworkers. There’s one more rule at home: no dating any Avengers. So what is she supposed to do when a grumpy super soldier becomes not-so-grumpy around her? At 25, do her dad’s rules still apply? Or is her entire livelihood at risk?

Author’s Note: I’ve written a decent portion of this but know I won’t keep writing it or post it unless I hold myself accountable and get it out there in the first place 🙈 I haven’t written much for Marvel yet but I’ve read plenty and have written for other fandoms in the past (not to mention the writing degree on my wall lol). I’ll try to post every 2-3 days to keep this moving! And if you like it and want to, buy me a coffee!

No one knew Tony Stark had a daughter. No one but Tony Stark and his daughter. Well, and her step-mom Pepper. And her godfather Rhodey. And her uncle-not-uncle Happy. But no one in their everyday lives knew. She was given her mother’s maiden name and kept a secret, even when she turned 17 and moved to a small apartment near NYU’s campus (with Happy stationed right next door, of course) to start life as a truly normal adult, or as close to normal as an undercover Stark could be. When she graduated with her PhDs in robotics and electrical engineering at 25 — proving brains really do run in the family — she moved into her own apartment in Manhattan, funded by her father under the pseudonym “Michael Myers.” Subtlety was never his strong suit.

Fortunately for you, growing up without the Stark name let you live a relatively normal life. It also allowed you to apply for a position within Stark Industries without being ushered past any red tape because of who your father is. Outside of the financial advantage you had, you worked for your spot in a STEM career. You suffered through every man in your field belittling your work despite knowing less than you. You dealt with the constant interruptions and “well, actually” because of your gender. You powered through late nights and early mornings when your mind was flowing too smoothly to quit.

The last thing you wanted to do was have all that work disregarded because you shared a name with genius billionaire playboy philanthropist Tony Stark. So you filled out the application, sent in your resume and cover letter, and attached three letters of recommendation from your professors. You went through hours of interviews, background checks (conveniently redacting your father’s name), and polygraph tests until that offer letter showed up in your email. You even had to sign the Non-Disclosure Agreements that would bar you from discussing *anything* work-related with anyone outside of your department.

You spent your first year in the weapons analysis department, evaluating alien weaponry and determining how it worked and how to disable it. You had your fair share of mishaps, of course. Holes blasted into walls, fried robot dummies, even burnt animal carcasses. By the end of your first year, your supervisor sent a commendation and proposal for you for an undisclosed promotion. After Pepper Potts “thoroughly examined your resume, cover letter, and accomplishments during your tenure with Stark Industries,” as the letter read, you were awarded a position working on the Avengers’ weapons as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist. You’d never see a fight in-person, but you were assigned to work on advancements and post-battle repairs for everyone, from the Winter Soldier’s arm to the Falcon’s wings to Vision’s... everything. The only heroes you wouldn’t work on were Iron Man and War Machine (those were your dad’s territory) and Spider-Man.

On your first day in your new position, the one and only Pepper Potts showed you to your new lab on the 47th floor. It took all your willpower to look your step-mother in the eye and say, “Wow, Miss Potts. This is amazing. It’s such an honor to meet you,” with a straight face to convince any passerby that you had no outside affiliation with her. Even if her eyes stayed steady on you, you could see her mentally rolling them.

Once you were alone behind the doors of the elevator, conversation changed course.

“You’re going to be sharing a lab with someone else,” Pepper said.

“Sweet. As long as they’re competent, that’s fine by me,” you shrugged. Part of earning your degrees was learning to share a workspace with others, even those who bumbled and fumbled with no idea what they were doing. You’d had more hair singed by nearby explosions than you’d like to admit.

“He’s still in college so he’s not here as often as the others. Most of his work will be on Spider-Man’s gadgets and suit, but you can use him for any help you need.”

Walking past the familiar faces of Dr. Banner and Dr. Cho in their respective labs, Pepper ushered you into your lab, where you were met by your father and put on the same excited facade you did with Pepper.

“Oh my god, you’re Tony Stark! This is incredible! It’s such an honor to meet you, sir!”

He shook his head at you and reluctantly accepted your outstretched hand. Oh, the jokes you’d be making at family dinners.

“Yeah, anyway, this is your new lab, Miss [Y/L/N]. Make yourself at home. This lab rat over here is mister Parker. If you have any questions, he can at least bullshit an answer for you.”

The young man on the other side of the lab perked up at the sound of his name. He tugged the goggles off his face and set down his soldering rod to rush over to you.

“Hi. Hi, I’m Peter,” he said, reaching his hand out to you.

“I’m [Y/N]. It’s nice to meet you, lab partner.”

He looked to be a bit younger than you and at least relatively smart, if the MIT sweatshirt peeking out from under his lab coat said anything. If your dad gave him an internship like this, you knew you shouldn’t question it. He had to be a genius.

The kid just smiled at you, continuing to shake your hand past what most would deem socially acceptable.

“Okay, enough of that,” Tony said, pushing on your joined hands to separate you two. “Mister Parker might be in and out of the lab from time to time. He joins the Avengers on the occasional recon mission for immediate repairs but since he’s on break from classes, you’ll see him more often than not. Play nice.”

When he noticed you surreptitiously looking Peter up and down, he added, “Remember, no fraternizing with coworkers.” He pointed a finger directly at you before he spun and pointed to your fellow lab mate, realizing he should warn Peter too to save face.

“All the blueprints you need for the Tin Man’s arm are in the system. We’ll have you start on that and see what you can do about minimizing the sound that thing makes. Any other questions, give Pep a call.”

“Thank you, mister Stark. I really do appreciate everything,” you said genuinely.

“Yeah, well… don’t let me down,” he replied, patting you on the shoulder on his way out. Pepper followed close behind, leaving you alone with Peter Parker.

“So Peter,” you started, sliding onto the lab chair next to where he remained standing, “tell me about yourself.”

“Uh… what do you want to know?” he asked as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

“How old are you?” you asked immediately.

“I’m 21.”

Only four years younger than you. So you’d probably get along just fine.

“I assume you’re at MIT?” He nodded. “What are you studying?”

“Biomolecular and mechanical engineering.” He said it so casually, you’d think he was talking about the last song he heard on the radio.

“Damn,” you responded, eyes wide. “I thought robotics and electrical engineering was wild but fuck, that sounds like hell.”

He laughed and nodded, letting a bit of the tension in his shoulders fall. “Yeah, it’s not easy. But it’s worth it.”

He shot you a small smile before gesturing back at his project. “I should probably get back to work and let you get started.”

For the rest of the day, you familiarized yourself with the Winter Soldier’s arm to figure out how to… turn the volume down? You assumed it was the gears inside causing the noise, but part of you wanted to outfit an audio jack and speaker just to fuck with your dad.

You and Peter worked in relative silence, aside from the playlist he had quietly playing through the lab sound system. When lunch rolled around, however, you finally spoke up.

“Hey Peter,” you called, his eyes flicking from the chemical beakers in front of him up to you. “First of all, what are you doing?”

“Um, it’s Spider-Man’s web fluid. Just trying to find more durable combinations.”

“Interesting.” As much as you wanted to touch the stringy substance, you knew better than to fiddle with someone else’s lab work. “Okay so second thing, in my last position, I’d just order food and have it brought to my floor but now that I’m on an exclusive floor, what do you do for lunch?”

“Oh, there are a couple security guys who have clearance to come into this floor. They just can’t get into any rooms so you’d have to meet them at the elevator. But I usually find something in the kitchen down the hall.”

“Oh, sweet. Thanks!” you said as you made your way out the door. Before you could fully exit, you turned back to see if Peter wanted you to grab anything. Once he promised he’d take his own break ‘once I get this one thing figured out,’ you continued to make your way to the kitchen.

As you drew closer to the doorway, you could hear three voices speaking over each other. They didn’t sound angry, but they were definitely arguing. You opened the door anyway and almost immediately froze in your tracks. The Falcon stood with one hand on his own head and one on the Winter Soldier’s head while Captain America rolled his eyes before those same eyes landed on you, along with the rest of the room.

“Perfect,” Sam started. “Hey new girl, between the three of us,” he said, pointing to himself, the Soldier, and the Captain, “who has the best hair?”

“First of all, my name is [Y/N]. Second,” you continued, making your way past them to the fridge you hoped your dad kept stocked with goodies, “that’s an unfair question.”

You grabbed a soda and popped it open before turning back to the three men. “Your hair suits each of you. Cap wouldn’t look good with Winter Soldier hair and Falcon wouldn’t look good with Cap’s hair.” You took a few steps closer, leaning against the island counter between you and eyeing each of them. Your eyes settled on the Winter Soldier, unashamedly flitting across his face and admiring the sharpness of his features. “You,” pointing at him, “could probably pull off either of their looks, though.”

Bucky smirked at you, but his rosy cheeks gave away a hint of embarrassment at your compliment. Steve and Sam, on the other hand, weren’t taking it quite as gracefully.

“What?!” Sam shouted. “Okay, now I know you’re lying. I could pull off Cap’s hair for sure.”

“You know, I think shaggy hair would really suit me,” Cap said, only half sarcastically.

You giggled to yourself as the three of them started talking over each other again, all dead set on their own hair being the best of them and positive they could pull off the others’ looks. While they bickered, you searched the pantry until you found a snack to at least get you through the remainder of the day.

“Alright boys, it’s been fun but I have work to do,” you said as you walked past them again. “Actually, wait. Bucky — can I call you Bucky?” He nodded even though you continued anyway. “If you could stop by lab six today, I’d love to check out your arm in person. The digital renderings aren’t quite the same.”

“Uh, okay. Sure. I’ll find you,” he said quietly.

“Sweet, thanks!” And with that, you skedaddled back to your lab.

[revenant-dumpster-fire]

Flower (Revenant x Reader)

[For AO3 archive, click here.]

Theme: Loneliness and depression are a painful but wicked combination after you have to talk about your past when you don’t want to. No matter how optimistic your friends might be, it doesn’t really fix anything.

Warnings: Graphic content, references to sex, references to past assault, references to noncon, male dominance, threats of violence, descriptions of violence, sharp objects, pain, post-traumatic stress disorder, bipolar, depression, mania, fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is female.

Writing Notes: What the fuck is a plot?

Navigation:

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

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You wake up to the sun fully over the skylight window, shining brightly into your eyes. You groan as you realize what time it must be. Closing your eyes only reminds you how thin your eyelids are, as the only color you see is a fleshy red rather than the lovely darkness you wish you could experience. You pull your arm over your eyes and experience the darkness again, if only for a few precious moments.

As you come to, you remember what you did last night and feel a weird sense of concern overcome you. That wasn't a dream, was it? You are lying here without clothes on, after all, and you don't exactly feel clean either. It definitely happened. You panic a little and jolt up in bed, holding the blanket to cover you as you scan the room. You're alone, and there's no sign of where Revenant could be.

You review the events of yesterday to yourself. You remember Revenant taking apart his old chassis and saving some of the parts from it. You remember teasing him until he tied you to a chair using his scarf, although you remember kinda deserving that. You snicker to yourself, remembering how he called you a "bully" to Sherry. Yes, you definitely bullied the giant, metal simulacrum built to kill. You remember Revenant left you pizza that was good enough that a blatant murder couldn't distract people from it, and then you remember chasing it down with too much vodka. You remember Revenant covered in blood at some point after that, then Pathfinder showing up, then falling asleep alone...? That last bit doesn't make much sense, but there was probably a decent reason for all those things happening together. Then you remember waking up in the middle of the night and definitely remember Revenant gently loving on you to the fullest extent.

You've never actually thought you'd be open to sex at all. Especially considering all you've been through, it's amazing you trusted Revenant enough to let him do that to you. You take a deep breath to yourself. It's too easy to be anxious about experiences like this, especially when they tread such a close line to your past traumas. In reality, you don't regret anything, you've just surprised yourself. The main concern now is why would Revenant run off immediately after a night like that?

Maybe you'll feel better after a shower and cleaning stuff up a bit. After all, you've learned that dwelling on discomfort only leads to more confusion and generally a breakdown. That's the last thing you need right now. No need to ruin something that should be a positive experience with an anxiety-riddled spiral into depression. Imagine losing your mind all because Revenant had some errand to run today. That would be silly.

You get out of bed and scurry to the bathroom, finding some used towels hanging to dry. You're not sure if they're the ones you used or the ones he used, but it doesn't really matter. He's made of metals, plastics, silicones, and PVCs. It's not like his towels are going to have anything gross on them. You grab the closest one and quickly change your mind when you notice the red streaks across it. That's blood, and it's not like it could possibly be his. You throw it to the corner of the tile floor to remind yourself to wash it later. The other towel must have been yours, because there's no blood on it and it's considerably drier than the other.

You turn the shower knobs and wait patiently for the water to warm up, taking a moment to brush your teeth while you wait. Ever since he went on a long tangent about shaving, you can't help but eye his razor case when you see it. You wouldn't dare touch it since you know how much it means to him, but you'd like to see it at some point. The steam starts to fog up the mirror, so you quickly finish with your teeth and jump in the shower. You rapidly clean yourself with as much soap as you can manage to lather into your hair and skin.

You nab the clean towel and dry yourself off, spending an excessive amount of time trying to dry your hair as much as possible. You made the right call, a hot shower helps a lot with anxiety. You leave the bathroom and rummage through your bag for the most comfortable pair of shorts and shirt you own. You notice you're a bit shaky and sore from the night before, but it's nothing you can't handle. As soon as you're dressed and your hair is brushed enough to be detangled, you consider yourself put together enough. Nothing wrong with a lax day for laundry and lounging about.

You grab the towels from the bathroom; the sheets, blanket, and pillowcases off the bed; your clothes you found in the corner of the room; a bloody old towel from the kitchenette; and a small pile of your dirty clothing from the past couple days and wrap them together in the comforter, dragging the giant makeshift bag of dirty laundry down the quiet hall into the laundry room. It seems like the trios match was as violent throughout as the ending was--there is not a soul in the hallway, meaning the infirmary must still be quite full. The only Legends you know are back from the match are the winners--Revenant, Wattson, and Wraith--as well as Pathfinder. That makes sense, after all Pathfinder just needs some repairs to be good as new since he's a MRVN, which can be performed hours after any match.

The laundry room has only one dryer running, echoing a mundane hum in the large room with the uncanny beat of the contents turning over repeatedly. You find a few washing machines in the far corner of the room and start separating the delicate items from the colors from the bleach-worthy whites. Thankfully, all the blood-soaked towels were once white, so they get a washing machine all their own along with the sheets. You pull the detergents and bleach out of the cabinet and start over-soaping all the loads, setting the timers to start each machine as they fill with hot water. Steam starts pouring into the room: commercial-quality washing machines are able to use tons of near-boiling water to sanitize anything inside of them. The room's vent fans kick in to try to keep the room's humidity low, but the fans will definitely struggle to keep up.

The door to the laundry room opens and Sherry shuffles in, bags under her eyes and likely hungover from a night of celebrating Wattson's victory. She's too foggy to notice you, so you shuffle over to her.

"Hey, Sherry! Drink too much last night?" You chime, Sherry weakly holding her head.

"Ugh, yes. And that stupid pizza didn't help. It was so perfectly greasy that I couldn't feel how drunk I was getting." She moans, making her way over to the only running dryer.

"So, this is all Revenant's fault then?"

"Absolutely, you and your stupid metal man always conspire to make me worry or drink myself into a stupor because of good pizza." She manages to put just a little sarcastic tone to her voice, but is clearly struggling through her headache. "So, why aren't you hungover? After what I saw yesterday, I was sure you'd bully Revenant into a drinking contest until he tied you to the ceiling vent."

You chuckle, it sounds almost too wild to be accurate, but you've learned that testing Revenant's limits always leads to the unexpected. Sherry continues, a sudden glint showing in her eye.

"So, since you didn't drink to celebrate, then you obviously must have--" 

"Sherry--!" You try to shout over her, knowing exactly where she's going with this.

A devilish look creeps across Sherry's face, almost wiping out her hungover grimace. She dashes away from you and towards the running washing machines, leaving you stunned just long enough that you can never hope to catch her. She throws the lids open of all three, pouring steam into the room and all over her face, but she doesn't wince at all. The hot steam almost seems to invigorate her more.

"Sheets! I fucking knew it!" She laughs maniacally, her face red and moist from shoving her face in the billowing plume of vapor. She slams the lids shut, letting them clang loudly as the agitators begin to whir back to life after being interrupted. "You did it! You finally did it!" She scurries back to you with the energy and erratic movements of a cockroach, finally reaching you to shove her finger against the tip of your nose. Her wicked grin is now in full form, only enhanced by the deep purple hues under her eyes.

"Sherry, it's not that big of a--" You start, trying to be honest but not let her go where she's definitely going.

"Ohohoho, yes it is! This is proof that you can move past your assault! It's huge! It means you're working past your traumas!" Her excitement makes her sound much louder than she actually is. "And it makes me feel so much better about this whole fling you're having, since Revenant was understanding of it all." She twirls away with her arms outstretched, as if to praise some unseen angels.

"Sherry, he doesn't know." You mumble half-heartedly, hoping she might ignore you. She whips her head back in a fury, which must hurt with her hangover.

"You didn't tell him anything?!" Now she's loud. "What were you thinking?! I get that you don't need to tell just anyone, but don't you think you should have told him so he'd know to take it slow?!" She grabs you by your cheeks and pivots your head to meet her eyeline. "What if he did something that caused a breakdown?! He wouldn't have had any clue why, and he wouldn't have been able to help you!"

"Sherry, it's oka--"

"No it isn't! That's not fair to either of you! You can't just let someone go waltzing through a minefield because you're not sure how to tell them that you had some fucked up shit happen to you!" She pulls you into a massive hug, shoving your face into her chest per usual, since it naturally lands there due to your height difference.

"I'm sorry, I don't want to yell at you, but you seriously need to be careful." She softens, sighing as she realizes you're shivering a little. "Look, if you don't know how to tell him, I will do it for you."

"Thanks, but I think I have to do it." You sigh, recognizing she's right. "Honestly though, the only thing I remember is the rag and then waking up in the hospital." You pull away from her, ensuring she can hear you clearly.

"I know you may not think it's a big deal since you can't remember much, but what happened to you is absolutely traumatizing." Sherry wipes away a tear you didn't even feel escape your eyes. "Seriously, if you really like Revenant, you should tell him what you remember and what you know, even if it's hard." Now you feel the emotional hurt, and you hate this. Everything was fine, but now it isn't, and you're struggling to keep your composure.

"I wish I didn't have to. I don't like talking about it. I didn't even do anything wrong, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Why do I have to confess it like it's some crime I committed? It's not fair!" Now you start to cry, and Sherry hugs you again, drying your tears with her shirt. She pets your head and hair, trying to comfort you in any way she can.

"Like I said, I'll do it if you need me to." She sighs while holding you tight. You don't intend to pull away until you've calmed yourself anyway. "I guess you don't really have to tell him, but I really think you should..." She trails off, trying to undo any harshness from before. You feel her face bury into your hair as she holds you closer.

You manage to pull yourself together, the despair slowly releasing its hold on you, even if the sense of doom does not. You have no idea how you're going to tell Revenant anything. How do you even start such a conversation? What if he thinks you should have told him before, like Sherry does? Will he feel betrayed? Or will he understand? The knot in your gut stiffens more.

Sherry holds you until you naturally pull away, rubbing your eyes and now looking worse than the hungover woman in front of you. Sherry looks at you with very concerned eyes that betray her wary smile, clearly trying to cheer your spirits despite her honest concerns.

"I'm sure it will be okay. After all, you managed to open up to him already in a way." Sherry sheepishly encourages you, placing her hand on your shoulder. She takes a deep breath, clearly feeling her aches again, but continues to try to bring you back from the brink of despair. "I bet you opened up real nice for him last night, didn't you?" Her teasing is missing its usual edge, but you can't help but appreciate her effort. You chuckle a little at how hard she tries.

"Didn't have to when he can do it for me." You banter back, taking pity on her weakened state.

"Your little rendezvous must have made quite the mess to have to wash the whole bed, huh?" You shouldn't have given her the inch, she fully plans to take a mile.

"Sherry, why must you do this to me?" You ask, rolling your eyes, turning away to help her with her laundry in the dryer. She could use the help, there's no way she feels well.

"Did he pull out? Is that why you needed to wash the whole bed?" She pauses as you actively try to ignore her, pulling her miscellaneous clothing from the dryer and placing it on top of the machine. Sherry doesn't quit. "Wait, if he's mechanical, can he even cu--"

"Sherry! That's gross!" You interrupt her.

"The pursuit of knowledge isn't gross!" Her energy is back now that she's found a foxhole she plans to dig into. "Anyways, you're the one who holds this forbidden knowledge! Now spill it!" She pauses, "Literally, if you must."

"For fuck's sake Sherry, why are you like this?!" You yell at her through a genuine laugh. No matter how gross that statement is, it is also really funny. You feel a little better, but the knot in your stomach remains.

She grabs a shirt out of the clumped up pile and folds it with zero care or grace. It might as well be a glorified knot. She puts it down and grabs for another, not caring at all to fold anything well. You help her fold, but actually do it correctly.

"So? Spill it!" She insists after making a few knotted clothes. You sigh, frustrated but unwilling to fight her.

"Yeah, I guess he had something in him. Probably the same slick stuff those synthetic refills are made of that you can get for prosthetics. Not that I could really tell anyway, it felt like any other liquid would in there." You mumble quietly.

"Heheheheh, gross." She giggles.

You throw the warm pair of pajama pants you're holding square in her face for that one.

• • • •

You're sitting on the bench in the laundry room, a pile of Sherry's properly folded clothes off to the side and Sherry herself snoring against your shoulder. She promised to stay with you while you wait for your laundry to finish, but you're not sure how helpful it is for her to snore in your ear and drool on your shoulder. She didn't manage to stay awake for long after she sat down with you, but this was inevitable with how hungover she is. Sometimes it really is best to sleep it off whenever possible, although you worry about her hydration. You'll wake her up if you really need to move, and then you'll get her a sports drink or something when you do.

At this point you've moved your laundry into a dryer. The commercial grade washing machines are insanely fast, but drying can only work so quickly. You might be here for a bit, whether you like it or not. Properly folding all of Sherry's clothes kept you occupied for a little while, but now all you have left to keep you company are your thoughts and the sounds of Sherry's snores.

You wonder to yourself why you're so worried over talking about your past with Revenant. You've been dismissive of it this whole time, but to be fair he has never pressed you on it either. You've told him you were homeless and used to date one of the other women in the shelter, but you didn't tell him that she eventually found a way out of poverty. You had to break up with her so she could move on. You didn't fully explain that your past relationship was so you could always stick together and watch out for each other. You definitely didn't tell him how you ended up homeless in the first place, and certainly not what happened to you after the breakup. In truth, you don't want to talk about it. You don't like being a victim of circumstance, modern societal failures, and a criminal underbelly that intentionally preys on people like you. Everyone who's unfortunate enough to be born into this cybernetic hellscape has a story or two that could curdle blood, and you're no different. Heck, you're sure Revenant has plenty too.

The fact of the matter is, you're alive and able to tell the tales of your past, which is better than the slew of victims, predators, and petty criminals alike that are missing or buried in shallow graves. It almost feels disrespectful to the slew of dead and abandoned individuals to complain since you've survived and gotten somewhere better. There's no way you can deny that you've won the jackpot by getting to work for the Apex Games, let alone getting hired and getting so close to one of the Legends themselves. Who are you to complain? You know that feeling shame for getting out of your situation isn't how you should feel--after all, everyone should have a right to talk about their past and experiences--but you can't shake the feeling of survivor's guilt that ebbs away at you.

You put your arm around Sherry and rub her opposite shoulder, but she doesn't wake up. She's really the reason you're out of the trenches of modern society at all. She secured you this job which gave you everything you could need, rent free. The tips from the Legends have let you save up money to escape when this opportunity falls through. Even moreso, Sherry didn't drop the offer for the job when you were hospitalized; in fact, she doubled down on making sure you got the position. You have no idea how much harder she had to work to get you here while you recovered for months, and you've always been afraid to ask. You almost don't want to know the debt you owe her, since you'd spend your whole life trying to pay her back. Sherry probably wouldn't want you to do that either; she's just so happy to have someone she can treat like a sister again.

The door to the laundry room opens again, snapping you out of you pondering.

"Skinsuit! There you are! I've been looking for you." Revenant swiftly makes his way over to you. He's holding a plastic bag, clearly with something inside. He towers over you, looking down at you and the drooling sloth latched to your side.

"Oh, sorry, I was just doing laundry." You mumble, caught in his bright, LED eyes.

"Skinsuit." He pauses, likely seeing your blank stare. You take a moment to come out of your adoring trance, shaking your head a little to clear your thoughts.

"Sorry, what's wrong?"

"We need to talk." The knot in your stomach falls deeper and yanks your gut down with it. Those are the worst words in the world, and the catastrophic thoughts in your head immediately start to wind up. Before you can even finish processing your thoughts, Revenant has picked Sherry up and off of you, laying her down on the bench. She doesn't even stir, she just snores louder now that she's lying flat. Revenant grabs your wrist and hoists you to your feet. "Come, now." His voice is so foreboding.

"Wait, the laundry isn't done yet." You pull back, resisting his grasp on you. You don't want to confront whatever he's upset about. It could be anything, and you just don't want to hear whatever words will inevitably hurt you.

Revenant doesn't release your wrist, but he grips it harder, forcing you forward and closer to him.

"I'm not asking." His eyes are terrifying points, the most intense look he can give, and he's staring straight at you. "Come. Now."

He doesn't give you time to even step forward before he starts dragging you. You trip over your feet as you try to regain your balance. He takes you out of the room and down the long hallways.

You panic. What the hell did you do? Does he regret last night? Did you accidentally hurt or insult him? What on earth does he want to talk to you about? Is he going to fire you and treat you like a nobody again? How could you possibly still work here if he cuts ties? You'll be traumatized every time you see him. What the hell did you do?

He drags you into his room. You could throw up you're so stressed. He drags you to the bare mattress and flings you down onto it. You try to fall into a sitting position, but fail and roll onto your back. He's standing over you, the intense look still hardened on his visage. He throws the bag to the side, its contents smacking the side table hard.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" You practically cry, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. You hold your hands in front of you instinctively. He's breathing so rapidly, he must be livid. What the hell did you do?

"Skinsuit." His voice isn't angry, his heavy and rapid breathing isn't rage. He's clearly upset, but not enraged at you. He almost sounds sad. "Who tried to kill you?"

You hold your breath, staring at him. Time passes, but you don't know how to answer. Finally, Revenant hunches forward to get closer to you, slipping a claw under your shirt and against your abdomen.

"This isn't a surgical scar. This is a stab wound from a kitchen knife." He sounds calm again, but you're still too locked up to answer him. "I wasn't sure until I saw the other four scars."

His hands glide to another place on your abdomen on the opposite side, then to an area of your lower rib cage, a second under your breast, and one near your clavicle. He brushes each one carefully before pulling you up into a sitting position to meet his eyes.

"What happened?" His face is right in front of you. You didn't realize this is how you were going to have to tell him, let alone that the scars are what he'd latch on to. He sighs, not getting a word out of you yet.

He stands up and sits down next to you on the side of the bed. He's so damn heavy that he creates a pit in the mattress that sucks you towards him. You land against his arm, which wraps around your back and holds you close.

"Don't panic, I just want to know what happened." He states, keeping as monotone as possible. You can sense that he's actually quite upset still, but is likely trying to make sure you don't feel like the target of his ire.

You're still having trouble reigning in all the anxiety, catastrophic thoughts, depressed ideations, and traumatized fear to yourself. If you speak now, nothing is going to make sense and you might start to cry instead. His hold is reassuring, but it's not enough to stop your brain from running on all threads against your will. You feel yourself shaking against his metal frame, trying to come up with an extra bit of bandwidth to talk, but unable to muster any.

You hear him sigh as he notices you struggling. He pulls you further into the gravity sink he's created in the mattress edge and leans into you, intentionally rattling his artificial lung pumps in your ear. He gives you a few minutes to try to gather yourself before he decides to intercede.

He holds your chin and forces you to face him. His LED eyes are bright and much more relaxed than before, and the sight of him calms you down quite a bit. You almost forget what you are even thinking about; only a single, lucid line of thought still runs in your head. Your shuddering stops, and you feel clear enough to speak again. You take a deep breath, and you let yourself speak.

"Right after my ex and I went our separate ways and I met Sherry, I would walk between here and the homeless shelter so I could keep on top of getting this job." You lower your head to look away, so Revenant withdraws his hand from your chin. "I guess some gang was watching me and saw an opening one night. I got grabbed from behind and they put a rag on my face, but when I went to scream I woke up in the ICU instead." You pause. "I don't remember anything, but they told me I had been--"

"You don't have to say it." Revenant interrupts before your voice cracks from the thought. You sigh, grateful for the reprieve.

"I guess they decided to kill me and dump me in a ditch out in the Dust, probably hoping a pack of prowlers would destroy the evidence." Your voice tremolos as you struggle to put together experiences you don't remember. "They nearly succeeded. I almost bled out in the ditch, but a Hammond employee found me on his way home from a late night at the office and got me to a hospital." You feel numb, but your voice betrays you. "They destroyed one of my lungs, managed to slit open my digestive tract in a few places, barely missed both my jugular and subclavian veins at once, and hit me directly in the liver and popped one of my kidneys. I should have died."

You sit there for a moment, gathering your thoughts. Revenant respects the silence and waits for you to continue.

"The Hammond employee who found me donated a bunch of their prototyped synthetic organs to replace mine. One of my lungs, one of my kidneys, and my liver are Hammond prototypes of the ones currently on the market. I also have some of their experimental silicone meshes holding together the digestive tract in the multiple places it was sliced open. I don't think I would have recovered without them."

"How are they holding up?" Revenant asks, carefully pushing his hand against your chest on the side with the artificial lung.

"I haven't noticed any problems, not to say that I know what that would feel like." You place your hand over his, gently touching the Hammond Robotics logo etched into the plate on the back of his hand. It has giant gashes in it, as if he's tried to scratch it off at some point. If this is a new chassis, he must have scratched it out very recently.

"So they used you as a guinea pig for their prototypes?" Revenant growls. "Typical."

"I never thought about it like that. It's not like I could afford synthetics anyway, let alone real ones. It felt like a blessing." You run your fingers over each jagged metal scratch on his metal plates carefully. "I would have died if Hammond hadn't donated them."

"Not to scare you, but be careful with the deals you make with those devils." Revenant's hand pushes harder into your chest.

"I didn't make any deals, I wasn't even asked. They just put them in and sewed me up." You mumble, concerned by his apparent disgust for his own manufacturer.

"Of course they didn't even ask. Silly me." His voice is low and dripping with hatred. You start to pull away from him in fear, but he notices and pulls you back gently. He wraps his arms around you completely and his chin rests on your head. You're not going anywhere at this point. "I'm not angry with you. You're a victim in all this." His voice is softer, but it's a ruse. His lungs are labored with rage and you can feel the tension in his body. You let the silence fall for a moment.

"Revenant, are you okay?" You whimper from under his grasp, unsure of yourself. You feel his fingers turn to points and grip you, but carefully angled not to puncture you.

"I have a lot of work to do." His voice is low and hateful again, his words equally as ominous. His voice jumps back to something softer to address you. "Do you remember anything about the men who chloroformed you? Or when it happened?"

"I'm sorry, it's all really fuzzy." You shake your head a little, in case he can't hear your quiet whisper. He growls, clearly caught up in his thoughts, determined to find a way to narrow down his search. "Does it really matter?" You ask, unsure of what he plans to do.

"Yes, it's important." He huffs for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I'm going to give you the entrails of every punk who violated you as a gift, and I'm going to pry Hammond's claws off of you before it's too late."

"Wait, you don't have to--"

"You used up your pardon, skinsuit. Now, I am the sole judge, jury, and executioner in this case." He sounds so livid, you can't help but shrink under him and hope none of his wrath is aimed in your direction.

The silence falls again, spare for his blood curdling huffs of rage. He slowly calms himself, likely with some kind of plan on what to do.

"Skinsuit, did they kit you when you were at the hospital?"

"Of course, but there's not a universal DNA database of criminals in the Outlands, assuming it was even entered into one at all. As a gang they might have connections. Either way, it didn't amount to anything. Plus, there was a lot of different DNA..." You trail off, shuddering at your own words and trying not to vomit up the pit in your stomach. Revenant grips you tightly in response to your quivering.

"Skinsuit, I need you to listen to me. I will handle this. I don't want you to worry about it anymore." His voice is determined and steadfast.

"I wasn't worried about it before, I just didn't know how I was going to tell you any of this." You manage to get out as you choke back stressful tears. "I was worried you'd be upset that I didn't tell you earlier."

He locks eyes with you from above, but you avert yours. His LEDs are bright enough that you know he's staring at you, trying to gauge your emotional state. Sure, maybe you are upset by the whole ordeal. Maybe it is why you struggle so much with despair. Maybe it is the event that broke you emotionally. But you don't want to dredge it up any more than you have to. It's hard enough telling him this, why does he need to make it into a mission?

"Your heart rate is spiking." You hear him dryly state. You cower deeper into his frame. "Don't be so nervous, like I said, I'll handle it from here."

Something in your head pops and you feel the unmistakable taste and heat of anger overtake you. Mania shows up for a mere few moments, in an attempt to bring righteous indignation to the fray.

"Handle what?! It's not like you can just undo what happened! What's the point? Just pretend like I didn't say anything!" You pull away from him and stand up, but he holds onto your wrist, only allowing you to get arm's length from him. "You can't just assassinate every problem into oblivion! It doesn't work like that!" You're staring down a simulacrum that has single handedly spilt more blood than in all the people you've met in your lifetime, but for this rage induced moment, you don't care. "Heck, if you really want to erase the problem, kill me! Because then nobody has to deal with it! That's what was supposed to happen! But I just had to get lucky at the worst time imaginable!" Your lungs empty out from yelling.

He reels back in shock, releasing your wrist. You have nowhere to go, so you just hover there, staring him down. In this fleeting moment, you have bested the Revenant. You are in charge, but only for a mere moment in time. The anger peters out and sadness overwhelms you in its place. Tears start flowing before you even start to vocalize your pain. The moment has ended. You hurriedly collapse to your knees on the floor and bury your face in your hands, trying to hide yourself as you cry. You hate it when this happens. Immediately after you get angry enough to snap, you regret everything and collapse into a sobbing mess. Every time. You just openly confessed you wish you had died instead. You asked Revenant to kill you instead. On top of it all, now you're crying on the floor like you didn't just say something heinous to him.

You gasp for air between your desperate attempts to suppress your cries, which leak out as sorrowful whimpers instead. You feel his palm on your head, but you can't bear to look up at him. He gives you a moment, possibly hoping you will collect yourself, but he gives up quickly. He kneels down beside you and you hear the clangs of his scarf straps coming loose. You feel his scarf wrap around your face like a hood, absorbing the wayward tears and helping hide your face. He bunches up the extra scarf around your shoulders and loosely ties the buckled straps to hold it to you. He reaches into the hood and holds your hands that are pressed against your face, intentionally fluttering his fingers around yours to wipe away tears. He withdraws, wraps his arms underneath you, and lifts you in his arms. He doesn't even struggle to lift you, remaining completely unwavering.

You feel him carry you out of the room and down the hallway, back towards the laundry room. You pull his scarf completely over your face, trying to calm your cries to be as quiet as possible. Your labored breathing is the only audible indicator of your tears now. You feel his arms push up against the swinging door to the laundry room before feeling the humidity difference wash over you as he enters. You hear the sound of Sherry still snoring on the bench. Revenant carries you towards the back of the room and gently places you on one of the still-warm dryers. You feel him open the front-loading door on the dryer and pull out the load of laundry, doing the same to the second dryer next to you. As the door clicks shut, you hear Sherry stir and wake up, moaning a little in protest.

"Oh, hey, is she okay?" She sleepily addresses Revenant.

"She needs time." A fairly honest dodge, but not really an answer to her question.

"I guess she told you while I was out, huh?" Sherry sighs, yawning afterwards. Revenant stops moving next to you for a moment.

"You knew?" He doesn't sound mad, simply intrigued.

"Of course, I lied and told them I was her biological sister so I could get into the hospital and stay with her." Sherry sounds sad, reflecting on it. "I had no idea she walked alone between here and the shelter. Had I known, I would have called a cab or just done the interviews over the phone..." She trails off, regaining her composure. "After that, I fudged everything to get her this job so she could escape that life."

"Do you remember any details of that night?" Revenant asks with piqued intrigue.

"Of course, I couldn't forget even if I wanted to." You rarely hear Sherry sound so deep in self-shame. You wish she would accept that it wasn't her fault, but you also know that's easier said than done.

"I'll speak to you about it later, then." You jump a little as his hand caresses your arm. You're too withdrawn in his scarf to see anything, so you have no warning when he touches you. Your startled wince doesn't seem to bother him, as he locks his arm around yours, allowing him to continue working with his hands. He must be folding some of the laundry, or at least trying. You can't imagine he's well-versed in the practice.

"You're going to try to find those guys?" Some hope returns to Sherry's voice.

"I will." He doesn't hesitate and he has no doubts. As an assassin he must have some sleuthing skills. He's more than proven himself to be clever, at the least. You still don't want him to bother, though. It doesn't fix what happened, but maybe it could save someone else, at the least.

"Hey! What the hell?" You hear Revenant shout as he withdraws his arm from you and staggers backwards. You pull your face out of the scarf to see Sherry hugging a very confused Revenant.

"Eviscerate them and hang them by their fucking entrails." Sherry mumbles before letting go, and turning to you. "I hope you don't mind, he earned it." She smiles through her exhausted expression, giving you a quick hug too. She pulls away and shuffles to her folded stack of laundry, picking it up and making her way out of the room. Revenant watches her exit with concentrated attention before turning to you.

"Never thought I'd have a second idiot asking me for a favor." He huffs, stepping back over to you. He reaches into the scarf and holds your cheek for a moment, locking eyes with you. "No worries though, you're my first and favorite idiot." His intense determination has melted back down to a teasing vitriol. You let your head tilt into his palm approvingly, letting some wayward tears drip onto him.

He pulls his hand back slowly, intentionally tugging the scarf back to cover your face so you can't see. You're startled when you feel a pile of warm, clean laundry land in your lap.

"Hold this." You hear him instruct as you feel him pick you back up. You wrap your arms around the pile of sheets, clothes, and towels, doing your best to prevent any from falling out of your grip. He carries you, buried in a pile of warm laundry, all the way back to the room before lightly dropping you onto the bare mattress. You let the laundry bury you, enjoying the warmth.

"Why did I even try to fold anything...?" You hear Revenant mumble as he reaches in and pulls you upright, undoing his scarf from you. You let him pull it off of you, but don't bother to watch him put it back on himself. You prefer to bury yourself back in the warm pile of clothing, messing them up further. You hear his buckles lock down on his chassis as he walks away. "I have some leads to follow up on, stay there until I find you a babysitter." The door slams before you can sit up and ask him what he means. He's already gone. He can disappear as quickly as he can appear, climbing walls and collapsing himself into vents and nooks. Even though he used the door this time, it never ceases to scare you a little.

You wish he would just stay around and not leave. Considering how hard it was to even explain what exactly happened to you when you were attacked, you had hoped he would realize being left alone is the worst possible thing. Although, maybe he does realize this, and is getting Sherry to stay with you. Still, you'd rather it be him. It feels like a cop out for him to just leave you with her, but maybe he's also dealing with some emotions too. Unfortunately, you're worried he thinks he can somehow undo everything that happened to you with a bloodbath of vengeance.

You sigh, getting up and looking at the disheveled pile of laundry. You begin to toss your wads of clothing into your duffel bag. No point in folding any of it, it's not like you own anything nice. As you pick through, some appear to be partially folded but his claws had poked some holes in them. Well, at least it's all cheap and replaceable. You toss them into the bag anyway, right now you don't have time to get new ones. You fold the towels and place them in the bathroom, nicely folded and ready to be used again. You take the one odd rag to the kitchenette, finding the drawer full of its siblings and placing it nicely.

Finally, you make the bed. It's an annoying and cumbersome process when you're working alone--the beds here are so big you have to do laps around it to get all the sheets and blanket right. However, you refuse to cut corners, and get it done pretty quickly. The majority of your past few years here have been focused on housekeeping, so you consider yourself quite adept and efficient at it. After throwing on the pillowcases and making a small mound of plush pillows to jump on later, you consider it done.

With nothing left to do, you decide to jump on the pillow mound early, burying yourself in it.

Almost as soon as you get comfortable, the door swings back open.

"Skinsuit! Meet your friend for the day!" Revenant sounds oddly sadistic, but why?

You turn around to meet eyes with a single, red, optical bulb.

"Hello, new friend! I'm Pathfinder, and I am a MRVN!" He waves at you as if you're not a mere few yards away. You actually already know Pathfinder, but he tends to forget who you are regularly. Maybe it's from getting damaged in the Apex Games? Or perhaps it's since he's only ever met you in passing before. After all, there's never been a good reason for him to remember you until now. "Very nice to meet you, Skinsuit!"

Revenant fights back a chortle as Pathfinder gets your name so morbidly wrong. You have no reason to correct him, though, after all you never had parents to give you a real name. You've been trying on different names for decades. 'Skinsuit' just seems to fit this stage of your life, weirdly enough.

"After our misunderstanding yesterday, I decided to make it up to him by introducing you two." Revenant explains to you, his hands gesturing sarcastically. Misunderstanding is one way to put it. "He's going to make sure you don't hurt, maim, kill, or otherwise damage yourself while I'm gone."

"Yes! I don't let friends do any of those things!" Pathfinder pipes up excitedly, probably not even realizing the subtext of what Revenant is implying.

Revenant must be holding on to your self-destructive rant from earlier. That explains why he's keeping some distance. You wish you could take it back, but words don't work like that. You still can't ignore it and let it stand, though.

"Rev, I'm sorry." You blurt out, not caring what Pathfinder might think. Revenant locks eyes with you for a moment, looking slightly less on-edge than before, but still quite tense. His pause doesn't last long, as his manipulative performance must go on for Pathfinder.

"There's nothing to apologize for. " He shrugs with heavy exaggeration, even though he clearly knows what you're referring to. "Just don't be a liability." He turns to Pathfinder, who has been listening intently. "Try to keep her safe, you wouldn't want to get me in trouble if she gets hurt, would you?"

"Absolutely not, brother!" He salutes, seemingly aloof to the tension in the air.

With that, Revenant disappears behind the closing door and is gone again.

Cool, more metal friends you didn't ask for. Well, the first one went well, maybe this won't be so bad.

"You said the right thing." Pathfinder suddenly sounds more serious, even if it still has an unmistakable twinge of optimism. "He seemed upset. I think you made him feel better."

"Wait, you saw through that?" You're dumbfounded, what is with all the perceptive robots in this place?

"He always acts like that for me, but I don't mind. He only does it for me, so we must be like brothers!" Okay, maybe he's not working with a perfectly clear perspective, but still. "And he wouldn't try to get me to watch you if he didn't value you, so I will do this as a favor to him." The screen on his chest emotes a heart-eyed smiling face. "He was very upset when he thought I had figured out his secret, so you must be a very good friend to be a secret friend!"

"Wait, you saw me yesterday?" Is this MRVN a genius and pretending to be unassuming, or somehow a perfectly naïve clairvoyant? He's able to hide his power of perception from Revenant, so he can't be stupid.

"Of course! I have sensors that pick up on heat and vital signs. But you were clearly hiding, so I did not want to ruin your fun."

Fun? Oh, he's so perfectly naïve, or you're falling for a perfectly executed feign. Whichever it is, Pathfinder is a little scary in the exact opposite manner that Revenant is. Revenant may be a homicidal simulacrum with deeply human roots, but his intentions are fairly obvious and any malice he has is clear cut and concise. Pathfinder is much more confusing, clearly more intelligent than he lets on, but so perfectly optimistic that he comes off as non-threatening. Despite that impression, you've seen Pathfinder take down some of the scariest Legends over the years, often with a near-condescending air of playful joy while doing so. When Revenant kills, the bloodlust is sensible, but playfulness? It's somehow scarier.

"Are you okay, friend? You seem nervous. Did I say something bad?" His emote shows a distressed face.

"Sorry, I just get caught up in thought sometimes. What did you want to do for fun?" You figure he won't hurt you, even if you can't completely figure him out.

"Well, what do you and Revenant usually do for fun?" His emote brightens into a smile again as you grimace internally. He's either wholly unaware or viscously teasing you.

"How about we do something else? Let's..." You think, what would be nice to do? You're a bit hard pressed to come up with anything fun.

"We could bring flowers to people in the infirmary!" He pipes up happily. It's not a bad idea, really.

"Sure! I actually wanted to visit the second place Legends, if that's okay. Fuse is so nice and so is Bloodhound. Caustic... probably won't mind." You've never really met Caustic, but you know he has a reputation for being grumpy.

• • • •

You walk out into the hidden atrium behind Pathfinder's room. You knew this was here, but nobody ever comes out here to your knowledge. The doors lock if you're not careful to keep them open, so the risk of being locked outside tends to lead most to avoid the area entirely, even though it connects two wings more efficiently than the hallways.

It's full of flowers of all types, sizes, and colors. The arrangement is chaotic and seemingly random, but the lusciousness of the plants more than makes up for it. The ground flowers are blooming and have various bee species hovering around, seemingly at peace with one another. There are a few small trees reaching around eight or nine feet high and giving a little shade. One has flowers, another has berries, and yet another has some kind of unripe fruit. It's truly breathtaking, and completely undisturbed after years of being left alone by the other Legends.

"You did all this?" You ask aloud, completely in awe of the secret oasis.

"Yes! Do you like it? We can pick some flowers from here!" Pathfinder seems especially happy to be sharing this with someone.

"It's beautiful." You mutter, still captivated by how mythical this little cut of land feels.

"Thank you! I have been meaning to show Revenant, but he will never chase me this far." Pathfinder shuffles over to an area and pulls up Revenant's abandoned bovine skull from the last match with a giant chipped gash in the forehead. He's filled in the bottom and red rose buds have been replanted in the eye holes. A large snail is making its way around the gash with its mossy shell, making for an artistic arrangement. "I am really proud of this one. I felt bad his new suit was destroyed, so I wanted to keep a part of it for him. Once the roses grow, it will look really nice!"

You're impressed. Revenant seems to have some kind of distaste for Pathfinder, and you're beginning to understand why. Pathfinder is scary. He's terrifyingly kind. If your guard isn't up at all times, he will reach a deep part of you and break down your defenses in an instant. When the entirety of the Outlands treats people as disposable assets and teaches everyone to trust as few people as possible, this MRVN will treat anyone like they truly matter, like they are truly cared for, and like they are capable of great things. It's dangerous to believe those things in this universe. That's how you get victimized, abandoned, and let down. Yet, this MRVN manages to hold on to these beliefs about himself and others, and he isn't broken, dead, or an abandoned shell.

Revenant, like you, can't adhere to those beliefs. The universe has spoken, and it says otherwise. Yet, it feels nice to indulge in the feeling of mattering, even if only for a few hours. Is that why he chose Pathfinder? Of course, Pathfinder is the living opposite of a suicidal ideation, after all. Maybe Revenant knew that.

"Stupid, clever jerk." You mumble out loud.

"Me?" Pathfinder has a confused emote as he points to himself.

"Oh, sorry, no, I meant someone else." You pause, switching subjects. "It's really nice of you to reuse his favorite chassis like this. I think it's really pretty, even if he never sees it."

"Thank you, friend!" His happy emote is back, and he waves you over to another area. "Have you seen this chassis? It's my favorite!"

You walk over and follow him to see a rounded red, purple, and white chestplate that has been cracked and shattered, but loosely put back together. It has the word "Thunder" and the number "81" written on it, as well as a unique mask attached to it. This mask doesn't look like any skull you've seen before, human or otherwise, but still has a bony texture. It appears to have hooks near the chin, perhaps where it was attached to the exoskeleton, as well as unusual leather bags under the eyes. It looks perpetually tired and angry, but you definitely can't say you've seen him wear this before. The chestplate is closed over an old wood stump and beautiful mushrooms have sprung to life in the darkness and reached beyond the chassis to meet the light. His mask has a particularly colorful fungus growing on it, happily latching onto the porous material more easily than the chestplate. It's gorgeous, but you wish you could see this chassis on him too.

"No, I've never seen this one before... I haven't seen him wear it in the games either. What is it?" You ask, curious why he would have such an odd chassis in his repertoire.

"He uses it when we spar! I don't think he uses it much otherwise."

"You two spar?" You're surprised. Maybe Revenant also finds excuses to dabble in the feeling of mattering sometimes.

"Yes! Not too often, I think he gets frustrated that I am an excellent boxer. I have tried to let him win, but he doesn't like that." Your eyes widen. Pathfinder can outclass Revenant in a sparring match? This guy really is scary. "You should come sometime!"

You look back at the busted chassis. Was Revenant knocked out of this one with a blow from Pathfinder? You knew all MRVN are particularly sturdy and powerful, but you never really felt it until now. You're a helpless ragdoll full of easily exploitable and fatal flaws to Revenant, but you never even considered that perspective when around Pathfinder. Now you do.

"You can really beat Revenant?" You mumble aloud, not intending it as a real question.

"When we only use our fists, yes! I don't think I could beat him if he was allowed to use his stabbing hands. He is getting better though!" He doesn't acknowledge your apparent fear, simply giving a chipper answer. "Whiplash to the neck is a weak point in his design. He is learning that he can't let me land an uppercut. You should come watch sometime! I bet he would fight harder with you there!"

The thought of Pathfinder knocking out Revenant with an uppercut is unbelievable to you. You almost want to know if it's really possible.

"I will, if you're both okay with it." You look up at Pathfinder, who immediately makes a happy clapping motion.

"Yes! I look forward to it!"

"Do you have any more insider information on his other suits?" You ask, curious how many he has seen.

"He's told me about some, but I haven't seen them yet. Only some special colored versions of his normal one." He looks upwards as if to think, the emote on his screen changing to match. You've seen some of the other colors in past games, but never in person. You hope he has a lot of different suits, especially since they tend to alter his personality a little. You wonder what his sparring suit does to him.

"We are here to visit Fuse, Bloodhound, and Caustic!" Pathfinder chirps, flashing his ID badge. You place yours on the counter as well, as the receptionist scans them both. You know the receptionist, Carol's been here a long time, and she's used to seeing volunteers come through to visit the Legends.

"Let's pick some flowers for the others, then maybe we can talk some more." You want to make sure you get to see the second place team, knowing the extent of their injuries is well beyond simple gunshots wounds. Revenant had run Caustic and Fuse through completely, and probably broke many of Bloodhound's bones. You're a little worried for all of them.

• • • •

You and Pathfinder approach the receptionist in the infirmary wing, holding three unique bunches of flowers. You couldn't find vases, so they're propped up in glass soda bottles filled with water. It may be a cheap alternative to a proper vase, but the flower quality makes up for it.

She starts to laugh after scanning your badge.

"Little Skinsuit? Is that what you're going by now?" She prods. "Also, I didn't know Revenant liked anyone enough to have a direct hire. I guess all that dedication to the grump-machine paid off, huh? Congrats!" She's very nice, and doesn't pry further than that.

"I'm not going to tell Revenant what not to call me, that would be asking for trouble. But thank you! It only took four seasons and figuring out his favorite liquor." You take your ID back.

"Ha! Leave it to you to make your way up in the world through the craziest means possible. Revenant still scares the heck out of me. Today was the first time I've ever seen him visit anyone, though. Maybe he's softening up." She spins a little in her chair thinking about it. "Anyway, tell Sherry I said 'hi' when you see her next!"

"Will do! Thanks Carol!" You chime back, walking past the desk with your arms full of bouquets, Pathfinder following behind. Why would Revenant have come by here earlier? That's very odd.

As you turn the corner, you see the names of the currently admitted Legends on each of the doorways. There are not many left, it seems like most were discharged this afternoon. Fuse, Bloodhound, and Caustic are all still here though.

Caustic's room is the closest, but you'd rather wait to deal with him last. You haven't met him, and those who have aren't usually treated well apparently. He almost has as bad of a reputation as Revenant, but Sherry has always been able to interact with him reasonably. She told you it had something to do with being close to Wattson, but that doesn't make much sense to you.

"Let's see Fuse first." You say, carefully making your way to Fuse's door. You knock lightly before you hear his booming voice welcome you.

"Door's unlocked, mate!" He barely sounds injured. As you open the door, you see Fuse grinning widely and sitting upright in bed. He's in a hospital gown, chest exposed to reveal a massive but sewed up and sealed wound. "Oy, you brought me flowers! How kind of ya." He's absolutely beaming for someone with a massive hole in his chest.

"Sorry we came so late in the afternoon, I just wanted to visit and make sure you were okay." You fumble over your words, not sure how else to admit you were worried about him and the others. Let alone that it's partially an apology for Revenant absolutely skewering him.

"Not a problem, I see you brought a different metal fellow with ya t'day." He motions to a table beside him, where you place the flowers.

"Good to see you again Fuse, I am glad to see you are recovering well." Pathfinder chirps, forever positive.

"So, sheila, how is the angry feller?" Right, he knows about you and Revenant.

"He's, uh, under some stress, but nothing he can't handle, I'm sure." You're not sure how else to answer. Saying he's fine is too obvious of a lie, but you don't want to be too specific either.

"Really? Who knew? The red rage actually has problems like the rest of us." He chuckles. Normally you wouldn't think much of his statement, but Fuse is the type to try to get anyone to warm up to him, Revenant being no exception. Perhaps you've said too much.

"Yes! Which is why I'm taking care of his secret friend for him! She's not allowed to be a liability!" Pathfinder gently pats your shoulder. Why did he have to say that? Fuse catches sight of your dejected look and laughs harder, gripping his chest to steady the pain. Pathfinder takes his laughter as some kind of endorsement, while you hang your head in embarrassment. Fuse catches his breath finally.

"No worries sheila, I won't tell a soul. You may have to keep that a bit more under wraps though, Pathy." Fuse says through labored breaths. That laugh must have hurt. Pathfinder cocks his head in confusion. "I think the point of having a 'secret friend' is to keep them a secret, not to tell everyone!"

"Oh no! I'm sorry!" Pathfinder realizes his mistake, a blue sad face appearing on his screen.

"It's okay, Pathfinder, Fuse actually already knew." You pat him on the arm in reassurance.

"Yeah, no worries mate. Just be a little more careful." His smile erases any embarrassment you feel. "Well, I'll let ya make your other rounds, I'm gonna turn in for the night." Fuse waves goodbye to you both as you excuse yourselves.

You make your way across the hall to the room labelled for Bloodhound. You lightly knock, and a nurse opens the door carefully for you. You slip in quietly and see Bloodhound lying on their back, their head facing your direction. You see their eyes dart in your direction, no longer buried under their usual goggles. Their head is well-wrapped in gauze, and their breathing mask is replaced with a hospital oxygen mask. You can finally see their eyes, which are filled with a softness you don't usually see.

Artur is on a large perch in the corner of the room, surprisingly. Bloodhound likely had to fight to get Artur into the infirmary at some point, since the perch almost looks to be a permanent installment now. Artur coos, watching the room carefully.

"Ah, the apprentice and Pathfinder." They address you both, but don't sit up. They likely aren't able to in this state.

You look to the nurse and offer her the flowers, not sure if you can approach Bloodhound at all. She takes the vase and puts it on a table a short ways from them, but well within their eyesight. Bloodhound seems enamored by the flowers, but also confused by their presence for a few moments.

"Ah, right, flowers are a common gift to the injured." They say to themself before turning to you both. "Your well wishes are accepted graciously. May the Allfather bless you in return."

You bow instinctively, not wanting to speak too loudly in the quiet room. Pathfinder notices and attempts to do the same, but starts to lose his balance and barely recovers. Once you right yourself, you break the silence for a mere moment.

"Get well soon, Bloodhound. Please don't..." You trail off, not sure where you were going. Die? Unlikely. Hurt? They're already hurt. Hate Revenant? They're not the type. "... don't be a stranger." You recover a little, but you're sure you're coming off awkwardly.

Bloodhound smiles with their eyes, and you feel much better, quietly slipping back out the door. Pathfinder follows, waiting for the door to close before speaking.

"I kept the secret!" He pumps his fists a little. You chuckle.

"By not talking at all. I guess it works." You pat him on the arm again. "One left, but I don't know anything about Caustic. I hope he's not as bad as they say."

Pathfinder takes the last bouquet from you and leads the way this time, apparently willing to handle the interaction himself. He knocks on the door and opens it, revealing a growling Caustic on the other side, sitting upright in bed and writing in a notebook. His usual mask is switched for an oxygen mask, and he's in a hospital garb that is far too large for him.

"Greetings, doctor! I brought you flowers!" Pathfinder chirps happily, ignoring Caustic's scowl.

"I don't want flowers. I already had to answer the simulacrum's idiotic questions, why are you bothering me now?" Caustic asks angrily, averting his attention back to his notebook.

"I intentionally got you chamomile flowers, they're Wattson's favorite for tea!" Pathfinder chirps, holding the white and yellow-centered flowers up. Caustic suddenly looks up from his notebook with a softer expression, before sighing and relenting.

"Fine, put them down on the table." His voice and expression have softened, but you're not sure why. Pathfinder must know something you don't.

As Pathfinder moves to put the flowers on his table, you lose your body to hide behind. Caustic notices you, and suddenly smiles a little wickedly.

"Ah, the simulacrum's personal lapdog reveals herself." He sneers. How did he know about you? Did Revenant say something? "You have quite the science project at your beck and call. How did a little thing like you manage that?"

You're not sure how to answer, and you know your discomfort is visible on your face. Pathfinder seems to notice as well.

"You seem to be a kindred spirit, flirting with death. Makes you feel more alive, doesn't it?" He coughs a little, interrupting his train of thought. His voice returns in a much more serious tone. "I'm afraid I can't do anything more for either of you, but I'll keep you in mind if I need to get under the simulacrum's skin."

Pathfinder doesn't speak, but starts walking towards the door, gently herding you in that direction. You leave, unsure of what else to say after that. The door gently closes behind you both.

"Are you okay, friend?" Pathfinder asks.

Now late in the evening, you finally make it back to Revenant's room, bidding Pathfinder goodbye before opening the door. You're holding a single flower you picked out for Revenant, despite Pathfinder's insistence that Revenant doesn't like or accept flowers. He's tested it thoroughly, or so he claims. You're certain this one is different, though. You picked this one for him, and you picked it for a reason. As you slip through the door, Revenant stands up from the computer desk to meet you.

"Yeah, just disturbed, I guess. Let's go, it's getting late. Let me grab dinner and let's go back to your garden." You answer, not sure what Caustic meant. You'd rather spend the rest of the evening chatting about Revenant's different chassis with Pathfinder than dwelling on Caustic's cryptic words.

• • • •

"You must have had fun. You've been gone all day." He notices the flower. "Pathfinder managed to pawn one of his flowers off on you?" He scoffs, rolling his optics.

"Actually, I picked this one for you." You correct him, unsurprised by his initial rejection. He seems to tense at the realization it's a gift from you, not Pathfinder, and that he has already judged it so openly. "It's a datura flower, I thought it was fitting."

"Datura? Like the drug?" He asks, trying to ignore his previous judgement on the flower.

"Yeah, it's called the Devil's Trumpet. It's poisonous if ingested, and causes psychedelic delusions. It's legendary for giving some of the most hellish waking nightmares. Isn't that something you've said about yourself? A nightmare flower for the nightmare Apex Predator!" You finish your short speech, and he carefully takes the flower from you, staring silently at its alluring but deceptive beauty for a few moments in silence.

"Thank you." He finally says, carefully placing the makeshift vase and flower down on the computer desk. "I wanted to talk to you about something while we're at it."

"Is this about what I said earlier? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. I wasn't thinking, and--"

"You wanted to die. It's okay. I understand that feeling." He takes your hand and sits you down on the bed as he takes the office chair opposite to you. "I don't want you to die, even though I am certain I will live to see the day anyway." He pauses, gathering the words he wants to say. "If you really find you cannot handle living any longer, I want you to die painlessly in my arms."

You sit there, unable to fully process what he means, or perhaps you're refusing to process it. It's hard to swallow, if your suspicion is right. He lets the pause hang before finally specifying.

"If you truly must die, I want to be the one to take your life." His head hangs, and he refuses to make further eye contact. "It will be painless, you won't be alone, and I can hold you one last time." His pain is apparent.

As soon as the words register in your head, you throw yourself to the floor and kneel under his hunched over body, trying to meet his gaze. He is unmistakably despaired, so you stand into him, hugging him as you do.

"I'm so sorry Revenant, I promise it won't come to that." You're pleading with him to trust you, but you're not sure how to convince him. "I love you, I just want to spend as much time with you as I can. I won't let it come to that."

You're pretty sure you sound desperate, but you're not sure how he'll interpret that. You are desperate to get him back from wherever his mind is. He stays limp in your arms for a few moments--long enough to concern you. His optics are still on, so he's not rebooting. He's just pondering, and somehow that's more worrying than anything.

Finally, Revenant hugs you back, standing up and lifting you off the ground. He brings you to the bed, carefully lying down in it and dragging you into an enveloping hold. He holds you tightly, but with an intensity you haven't felt before. He doesn't speak, just holds you, refusing to let go.

You lay there, unable to move and unwilling to abandon him for what feels like hours, until your consciousness starts to fade. You drift off quickly, unable to deny your exhaustion any further.

[bright-molina]

Babylon - Everything I Didn’t Say (part 2)

synopsis: As the months go by you find that not everything is always easy. Bobby continues trying to make it big and you continue working on Luke’s song. Time starts getting away from both of you until one day everything changes more than you thought possible.

word count: 5.3k

pairing: Luke Patterson x reader

warnings: a little more of reader and Bobby working through the grieving process, mentions of a car accident

a/n: I’m so late but this is for @jatpx5sos​​ Week Day Four: Sad Song! The song I used was Babylon which is like, a vibe, but also the lyrics get me. Part two of the Everything I Didn’t Say Series and we’re definitely picking up now.

Also disclaimer, I know absolutely nothing about law so keep that in mind

part one

The songbook kept its place in your bag but it felt less heavy now. 

Every time you opened the book it got a little easier. Soon enough you were finishing your list and you could feel the spark that had nearly disappeared growing stronger once again. 

Getting back into music helped. At first it was just listening as Bobby messed around on his guitar when you finally dared to go back into the garage with him. It was one of those times that you’d stumbled across a shoebox filled with pictures and notes, much like the one you had in your room. 

“I forgot we kept those in here,” Bobby had spoken softly as he looked through all the pictures with you. 

“I didn’t know you guys had these.” You smiled as you flipped through polaroids and photo booth sheets and negative film strips. “Honestly didn’t think you were picture people.” 

“We weren’t,” It was then that Bobby recalled one memory in particular. “Alex showed up for rehearsal once with some pictures he’d gotten developed for you. Said you liked them cause they were reminders of memories that made you happy for when you needed them. After that we just kinda started collecting them.”

“I -” You paused as you thought back, now being able to recall dozens of little moments you didn’t think twice of at the time. “I never knew.” 

Bobby looked up from the picture he’d been looking at before walking over and handing it to you. It was one of all five of you the morning before a gig they’d gotten. 

“Keep it,” His voice came out soft and you were a little surprised but he quickly moved on after reassuring you that it was okay. “Let me show you something I’ve been working on.”

When the coffee place you and Bobby frequented started hosting open mics you were the one to suggest he sign up. When he finally decided to, you were always at the very front alongside Rose. And when she started performing with her new band you were just as eager to support her.

The two of you had gotten considerably closer over the last few months and she was the only one that knew you were working on the song Luke had started. She’d been beside you when you first tried and it had very quickly and very easily grown into talking and the occasional songwriting session you realized you had missed.

You were the first one she gave tickets to when Rose and the Petal Pushers got a gig at a particularly popular club. It was the day of the show as you were standing in line that you finally gathered the courage to tell Bobby. What you didn’t know was that he had news of his own.

“Guess what I’ve been doing”

“I need to tell you something”

The amusement laced with a bit of nerves was more obvious than ever. In both of you. Bobby was the first one to work through it, though, as he tried to put off telling you what he’d been about to say. “You first.”

“You know,” For just a moment you hesitated, thinking of the songbook you’d left behind for the first time since receiving it. “You know that song you said Luke was writing? I’ve been trying to finish it.”

For a moment Bobby didn’t say anything and you weren’t quite sure what was going through his head. Your worry only lasted for a second before he practically beamed at you.

“That’s amazing Y/N,” There was nothing but pride on his face as he spoke his next words. “Luke would love that you’re doing this again.”

“He really would.”

And for the first time in six months, right there outside a concert venue, you thought about Luke and Reggie and Alex and didn’t immediately feel a little broken inside. The cracks were starting to heal and though you knew it wouldn’t always be this easy, it was a start.

“Tell me your news now.” You were the one who grinned then as you took a couple steps forward in line. When you stopped to look at Bobby, though, you saw a look you hadn’t seen in a while. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and he was staring at the ground beneath his feet with concentration twisted on his face.

“I, uh,” He just barely managed to look up at you and you knew then something was bothering him. “Some guy called me after that open mic thing at the coffee place the other day. Said they were interested and now I have a meeting with some producer in a couple days.”

“Bobby that’s great!” You smiled right away but he didn’t seem to notice your excitement for him.

“Yeah, I’m not gonna go.”

The two of you took a couple more steps forward and you pulled out the tickets Rose had given you, taking a second to compose your own thoughts. Finally you asked, “Why not?”

“I don’t,” His stare once again returned to the floor. “I don’t want to do this alone. I wanted to do this with you and Alex and Reggie and Luke but they aren’t here and I just -”

You could see him spiraling quickly and so you reached for him gently, just as he had done for you dozens of times over the last few months. Bobby turned towards you then and found only the most reassuring look in your eyes. He was reminded then that no matter what thoughts filled his head he could tell you absolutely anything.

“I don’t think I can do this without them.”

“Of course you can,” You paused only to hand the person at the door your tickets, stopping just inside the door to make sure he actually heard the words you were saying. “You think those boys would let you bail out on this opportunity? They’d want you to do this more than anyone. You still have me and I’m telling you you’ve got this. Now what is it you always told each other when one of you got like this.”

Bobby laughed as the phrase echoed clearly in his head and for a second he was reminded of the last time he’d heard it. His smile softened a bit but it still remained as he repeated the words. “Own your awesomeness.”

“Exactly,” You nodded firmly, oblivious to the memory that was playing in his head. “You’re going to that meeting even if it means I have to force you there myself and you’re going to crush it.”

*

Three days later Bobby met you at the coffee shop that had become a safe haven for the two of you. You were sitting at the table right by the windows as always with his usual tea already waiting for him. It took no time at all for him to start telling you everything.

“Most of it sounds pretty okay.”

You knew right away there was something missing to the story, his eyes had moved to train on the table. “But?”

“They asked about experience and I told them about Sunset Curve,” He stopped bouncing his leg just long enough to take a long drink from the mug in his hands before resuming the action. “They want me to change my name.”

“I -” You frowned as you leaned forward on the table, not too sure if you’d heard the right thing. “What?”

“Apparently your dad did too good a job of keeping our names out of all the papers after -” You knew exactly what Bobby meant. Neither of you had even known any reporters were looking for you until you’d been cornered a few days after the accident. “Anyway they said something stupid about not wanting my name connected to the whole thing.”

“So they want you to change it in order to separate yourself?” You watched as he silently nodded. The only acknowledgement he gave of the proposition he’d been given. “What do you think about it?”

“I don’t know,” Bobby gave a heavy sigh before throwing back the rest of his tea. The cup clattered against the table and he leaned forward, thoughts racing back and forth in his mind. “I don’t want to separate myself from it. It happened and it's a part of me and it always will be. But changing my name doesn’t take that away, you know?”

You glanced at him and found him deep in his own thoughts. “Yeah. I guess not.”

When Bobby looked at you he knew. You’d always been able to read him easily but he could do the same thing now. Your fingers twisted the ring covered in butterflies that Rose had given you for your birthday back and forth and he knew. You didn’t know what to say and he wasn’t too sure how to tell you that was okay.

So instead he opted for changing the focus of the conversation. “Tell me how the song’s coming along.”

And it worked. Immediately you grinned and pulled out the songbook to show him your progress. It wasn’t long before you launched into an explanation of what you wanted to do, anything and everything else being pushed away to the back of your mind.

Only a couple of weeks later you were getting ready for his first show alongside Rose. The three of you had slept on the various couches in your living room the night before and while Bobby had left earlier, you and Rose were taking your time.

It was then, though, that you realized Bobby had taken your only means of transportation. When you brought it up Rose only smiled. “Someone’s picking us up.”

“Who’s someone?” You couldn’t help the smirk that flashed on your face, as you scribbled more notes in the margins of the songbook. “Like a date?”

“Just someone,” Rose looked over at you then only to find you with a pencil in your hands. It was the same position she found you in more often than not. “You know there’s a few people I know who I think you’d like.”

That comment made you look up and as hard as you tried, you couldn’t help the image of Luke that appeared in your head. You thought of him. Of flashes of moments. Hands held, smiles that were a bit too soft, looks that lasted a little too long. A collection of almosts that never turned into more for fear of ruining what you’d now lost either way.

You shook your head much too easily for her liking. “I’m okay.”

“Y/N, I’m telling you this because I love you,” Rose moved to sit beside you and gently set her hand on top of the songbook you barely ever let out of your sight. “Eventually you’ll finish the song and when that happens you don’t want to jump head first into something you aren’t ready for. You’re doing so good and I’m proud of you. There’s a lot more out there, though, and if you want I can help ease you into it.”

You knew she was right. She always was.

“I’ll let you know when I’m ready,” You promised her and she accepted the answer. Then you pointed to the page under her hands. One that was clean, sharp white pages as opposed to the well loved ones she was used to seeing. “If it makes you feel better this is a new one I’m working on for Bobby.”

“Can I see?” Rose looked at you excitedly and waited until you nodded to start reading the words on the page.

It was as you watched a grin grow larger on her face while she read the lyrics that you smiled and reached for the camera you’d invested in after finding the pictures in Bobby’s garage. You stood and dragged her out of the room with you.

“Come on,” You took her into the backyard where the sun was shining high in the sky, both of you ignoring the chill that came with the winter months. You started fiddling with the buttons of the digital camera you’d only just figured out how to work.

Rose watched you play around with the buttons for a few moments before shaking her head in amusement. “When’d you get into photography?”

“I’m not,” You moved to stand next to where she was and beamed at her. “I just like keeping the memories.”

You weren’t surprised at all when only a month and a half later Bobby was giving you tickets to a show he’d booked at the Troubadour.

“Bobby this is amazing,” You grinned as you hugged him, the envelope clutched tightly in your hands. The two of you were once again at the coffee shop but this time you’d moved towards the back.

The last time the two of you had been there a few days before several people had recognized him, cutting into your conversation more than once. This time you’d agreed to take precautions.

“Trevor.”

“What?”

“There’s lots of people around,” Bobby watched as your face fell and he quickly shook his head, twisting a bit in his chair to face you completely. “Just when we’re out like this. I’m still -”

But he didn’t continue. Nevertheless you knew what he meant so instead you gave a short, awkward laugh. “That’s gonna take some getting used to.”

There was a pause for a moment and you had no clue what to say. This was completely new territory and you’d be lying if you said the whole thing didn’t throw you off a bit. A sudden shrill beeping noise cut through the silence and Bobby pulled out his phone, frowning when he saw the number.

Instead of answering, though, he quickly pressed the red button and gave you his full attention. “Tell me about what you’re working on.”

He still knew you better than anyone and watched as you eagerly pulled out the almost pristine songbook. The one filled with new projects the two of you had started together. He shook his head though and nodded towards your bag. “Forget those. Show me what you’ve been writing.”

You knew exactly what he meant. The song Luke had started. The very one he knew you’d been struggling with recently. Your smile turned softer then and you pulled out the other songbook. “Alright.”

The two of you sat together for a while longer. It was different writing with him than it was writing with Rose. You bounced ideas off of him and he told you exactly what he thought, good or bad. He helped you think of how the melody could go and what might work better. It was simple and easy and an experience you had missed over the last few weeks.

That only made it a bit harder when someone came in and made a beeline for your table. Bobby introduced him to you as his manager and soon enough he was apologizing as he was dragged away with a promise to call you later.

Once the car he’d gotten into pulled away you let your smile fall as a sigh escaped you. Then you caught sight of the envelope on the table and you slowly reached for it. Inside was three tickets and you really couldn’t help the way your frown deepened as you read the words printed in big bold letters. Trevor Wilson: Live at the Troubadour.

*

“I have something for you.”

Two months after playing the Troubadour, Bobby showed up at your house at almost midnight looking wide awake and excited. You could count the number of times you’d seen him since then on one hand. You could understand the fact that he was busy well enough but that didn’t make it any easier. Especially knowing what was coming up soon.

“Hello to you too,” You sighed with a tired look in your eyes. His interruption was more than welcome, tearing your attention away from the exams you had been studying for. Where Bobby had jumped right into making music full time, you had been ambushed with work when you started school again a semester late.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close your eyes,” Bobby repeated his own words and waited until you did so. You could feel him reach for one of your hands, open it, and then place something in your palm. “Alright you can look now.”

You were met with a cd case that had a picture of him on the cover. Almost immediately you knew what it was and you gasped excitedly as you read the title and opened the case. “No.”

“Yes. That’s the very first copy of the EP,” Bobby laughed when you ran past him and towards the cd player, fumbling as you raced to put it on. “I wanted you to have it.”

Moments after you pressed play the sound of an electric guitar filled the room and your delight bubbled over. Soon you and Bobby were both jumping all around the room as the two of you screamed along to every song at the top of your lungs.

“You missed my favorite part though,” He announced a while later as he opened the cd case and removed the little booklet. You set down your camera, having insisted on taking a picture of him with it, and moved towards him, watching as he flipped to the first page.

Underneath the album art and lyrics was a list of credits. Bobby was quick to point out one line in particular.

Written by: Y/N Y/L/N and Trevor Wilson

“We did this together,” He said, watching as you stared at the words with wide eyes. 

He could very easily recall the dozens of conversations you two of you had had over the last several months. There had been more than a few moments he hadn’t been sure he could get through. Moments that he had powered through thanks to you. “I’m sorry I haven’t been the best at keeping in touch lately. That’s on me.”

“Don’t worry about it.” But as soon as the words left your mouth he was hugging you tightly.

“You didn’t have to stay,” He held you a little tighter as the realization hit him. This feeling, the one of having you by his side, was familiar. Welcoming in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. It reminded him of everything he had had before. Everything the two of you had lost. “But you did.”

You weren’t too sure where the sudden flood of emotion came from but you weren’t opposed to it. It was something you had missed. And so you held on a little tighter in an effort to silently show it. “I always will.”

Things were a little bit better after that. Sometimes it was just the two of you while other times Rose joined you. There were even a few occasions when she brought Ray along and the four of you just talked about anything that came to mind. That only lasted a couple weeks though.

A month after the release of the EP, Bobby was pulled away for a show and the visits became calls. Eventually even the calls became more sporadic. Show after show happened and while you tried to go to some you simply couldn’t find it in yourself to go to all of them.

Especially considering it was July again already.

Four days, you thought to yourself as you stared at the words on the pages of the now well worn journal. There were still a few bits and pieces that weren’t quite done yet. Nothing you had tried lately was working and you hadn’t been able to finish it. Not alone.

“You can take a break from it, you know.” Rose told you after watching you drop your head to the table.

“It distracts me.” Your voice came out muffled and when you turned to lay your head more comfortably in your arms she noticed the way you seemed off. And she knew exactly why.

“It makes you feel better,” Rose waited until you nodded in confirmation before disappearing from the room, returning moments later with an acoustic guitar she held out to you. “Do you know how to play it?”

“I, uh,” You slowly sat up in your seat again as you stared at the guitar. “Yeah. A little.”

For a second, though, you sat unnaturally still. The timing of the moment pulled a very particular memory to the front of your mind. When you reached for the guitar your hand was shaky and you gulped, recalling the event you were thinking of.

“Luke taught me,” You adjusted the guitar and you were almost certain you could still feel his hands moving yours to the right place on the instrument. “They - they all did. They taught me a little of everything for when I wanted to add music to the songs and they -”

As hard as you tried you couldn’t push away the stinging behind your eyes. You did, however, manage to keep the tears in. “For when they weren’t there.”

“Play then,” Rose smiled gently as she sat back down beside you. “Maybe it’ll help.”

You weren’t too sure if she meant with the song or with the overwhelming amount of feelings and memories that had overtaken you as the one year mark of the Orpheum show quickly approached. You listened to her though and soon enough you were strumming a few chords a bit warily.

The hesitation didn’t last long. It was easy to get lost in the music after only a couple minutes. You didn’t even notice when Rose snuck your camera out of your bag and took a picture of you working on it.

Only an hour later you were excitedly asking her if you could use her house phone. The number you dialed was Bobby’s, eager to tell him your news. You had finally finished the song. Yours and Luke’s last song together.

There was no answer though. Instead the voicemail message rang loud in your ear. Hey! It’s Trevor Wilson. Can’t come to the phone right now but leave a message.

Despite not being surprised to hear the name on the message it still threw you off a bit. With a quiet sigh you hung up the phone without leaving a message and turned back to where Rose was sitting. Your smile returned then and you walked back over feeling strangely at ease.

She looked up when you sat back down next to her and you paused for only a moment before asking, “Can I play it for you?”

Rose nodded and dropped the pen in her hands while pushing the sheet music away from her. “Of course.”

And so you played the song for the very first time. You were able to get through the part you’d written with little difficulty. It wasn’t until you reached the part of the song that Luke had written that you hesitated. The crack in your voice was evidence enough of the memories playing in your head. You focused instead on the words he’d written to you, pushing back the tears in your eyes.

The sheer level of emotion in your voice brought tears to Rose’s eyes. You were reliving one of the worst moments of your life, sure, but she was also positive then that you were going to be okay. This was the last step you’d needed to take and she was more than happy to be there with you in that moment.

Rose was quick to take the guitar out of your hands as soon as the last chord died out. You didn’t even realize the tears had fallen until she pulled you in for a hug. She held you close until she was sure your silent cries had stopped, waiting until your breathing evened and the tears were nothing but stains on your cheeks.

Finally she pulled back to look at you and nodded. “It’s ready.”

Three days later you finally saw Bobby again. It was near closing but the two of you sat in the coffee shop like always. Near the back away from people again, but still. He looked a little tired but for the most part he was still him. You had to remind yourself of that when he told you he would be busy the next day.

“I can’t do this alone, Bo -” You shut your eyes, shook your head, and gave a heavy sigh. “Trevor.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” Bobby - Trevor - whatever it was he insisted on going by leaned forward on the table, catching your attention again. “I tried to get out of this show, I really did.”

“Tomorrow’s gonna be a year since -”

“I know.” Bobby could tell what you meant even when you cut yourself off.

Frankly that had been the very reason he hadn’t minded being kept busy the last few weeks. But he’d been so caught up in shows and promotions and everything else that he’d forgotten he wasn’t the only one remembering that night a year ago.

“The second I get some time off I promise I will be right by your side.” He waited until you were looking at him again to continue. “We’ll go see them and you can play him your song. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” It took you a few moments until you agreed but you did. The knowledge that Bobby was still right there did in fact comfort you a bit. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

*

It took four weeks and a lot of rescheduling of Trevor’s schedule before finally the opportunity came up. To his credit, though, he did in fact start dragging you places with him if you were up for it. Especially the recording studio where the two of you and Rose had just spent hours in a few nights before messing around.

Finally one year and a month after the night at the Orpheum you were meeting Bobby to go see your boys together. You’d planned to meet him at the studio building though since the only thing he couldn’t get out of was a meeting they’d scheduled last minute.

You were on your way to the building, your old backpack on one shoulder, guitar case on the other, and a textbook in your hands. Every time you stopped you shifted them, trying to get more comfortable carrying everything.

You weren’t used to carrying that many things. Not at all. That was evidenced by the way you shifted everything on your person every single time you stopped at a crosswalk. 

Your backpack was falling off one shoulder, filled with pictures and lyrics you’d been collecting. The guitar case on your other shoulder at the very least stayed in place. The textbook in your hands you’d just picked up was quickly growing much too heavy when paired with everything else.

Meanwhile Bobby sat just a few blocks away in an office that was much too pristine for his liking. There wasn’t a single thing out of place and it did nothing to calm the anxiety quickly filling him up. 

The bouncing of his shoes against the linoleum floor was the only sound echoing loudly through the room. His focus was on his own reflection staring back at him from the glass table under his hands. He wasn’t too sure how he’d landed himself there in the first place.

Finally, he worked up the courage to speak, “No.”

“Trevor, these are good songs,” The executive he’d already forgotten the name of spoke in a tone that didn’t leave much room for arguing. That wouldn’t stop him though. “Perfect for your first album.”

“No. I’m not using them.”

“You will.”

“I’m not going to!” These were the people that held his career in their hands but Bobby couldn’t bring himself to care. He only cared about one thing. “They’re not mine. They belong to a friend that I lost and I am not doing that to him!”

One cold, emotionless smile paired with a chuckle void of any sort of empathy told him there was no taking anything back now. “You don’t really have a choice in the matter.”

You weren’t expecting your phone to ring so when you stopped in the crosswalk to dig it out of your bag you missed the walk light completely. People all around you grumbled as you shifted all your things again until finally you looked at the little screen to see Bobby’s number.

“I know, I’m running late. I’m almost there, B -” You were suddenly reminded of the people along with the building across the street. “Trevor.”

“They want me to use Luke’s songs for the album.” For a moment all Bobby heard was the sound of traffic on the other end as he paced the empty hallway. Finally, to his relief, he heard your voice on the other end of the phone held tightly to his ear.

“What are you talking about?”

“The songs Sunset Curve never recorded.” Bobby stopped pacing then and leaned against the wall, thinking of what the two of you were supposed to be doing instead. “I gave you the songbook back when you left it here after you and Rose visited but they saw it before then. Word spreads fast and they’re saying it’s in my contract.”

“Bobby, what are you talking about? What contract?” You didn’t even realize he hadn’t corrected you.

“The one that signed me to the label. There’s a section on writing and credits in the fine print and if I don’t take credit for the songs Luke wrote then they will. Y/N, I can’t let them do that. He worked hard on those. They don’t care though. As far as their concerned he doesn’t need the credit since -”

“Since he’s dead.” Somehow the words sounded harsher coming out of your mouth. Bobby only nodded despite the fact that you couldn’t see him.

“There’s no choice then, is there?” You shook your head as you adjusted the guitar once more, getting ready to actually walk across the street.

Your anger blinded you. You knew better than anyone else the effort that went into writing all those songs. Late nights drifting into early mornings until some semblance of a song filled every page in countless journals.

Even now you could still remember the spark in Luke’s eyes whenever he finally managed to work something out. The eager bounce in his step every time he declared he had something to show you. The ease with which the words just flowed out of him. You were never happier than in those moments you spent writing beside him.

“Bobby I have an idea.”

“What?”

“I wrote some of those songs with Luke, right?” You glanced down at the textbook in your hands and for the first time since you’d been forced to go into a field you had no interest in by your parents you smiled. Introduction to Entertainment and Intellectual Property Law.

“Yeah. What are you saying?” Bobby was already piecing it together though, already feeling slightly more at ease than he had been before.

“I’m saying we put my name and his together.” Out of the corner of your eye you saw the walk sign flash on and you started crossing the street. You opened the book with your free hand, oblivious to anything and everything else. “Partial credit is better than nothing right?”

“Yeah. Yeah you’re right.”

“I always am, aren’t I?” You grinned as you stared down at the table of contents, already knowing exactly where to look. “I’m right down the street just give me a couple minutes to -”

Everything happened too fast.

All you were focused on was the situation you’d found yourself in and how to fix it. You didn’t notice the commotion of people behind you and in front of you scrambling to get out of the way. You didn’t see the car skidding past their red light, screeching and honking from every direction left behind in their wake. You didn’t hear Bobby shouting for you over the phone from where it had fallen.

All you saw surrounding you when you opened your eyes was a dark room with no one else in it.

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[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

NEVERMORE?

Prompt: Requested, by the adorable @pod95 Thank you so much for your request, babe. I hope you’ll like it 😉😘

Word count: Long-ish

Pairings: Finn Bálor x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, dom x sub dynamic, one night stand, rough sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), spanking, tricophilia (hair kink - pulling) breath play/ asphyxiation kink (chocking), cursing and fluff.

Tag: @theworldofotps , @new-zealand-chic , @yungbludjazz360

Notes: Lord, forgive me, my dirty mind and the sin I’m about to commit! This is pure filth people, pure filth! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check them out on my Masterlist. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Y/N, I’m gonna look for Tim in the men’s locker room ok? I’ll be right back” Leon, my brother, said

“Fine, I’ll wait here” I smiled at him, sitting down in one of the audience benches

A few minutes passed and I heard someone ask me

“Are you looking for someone?” A handsome Irish guy asked

“Nope, I’m waiting for my brother”

“Is he one of the wrestlers?” He asked

I smirked “No, but he dates one”

“Oh, I see” He grinned “Would you like me to call one of them for you?”

“Nah, it’s ok. I don’t mind waiting. They haven’t seen each other in a very long time plus, I don’t have anything better to do” I shrugged

“Mind if I sit down with you?”

“No, go ahead and pick your seat” I joke and he sat right by my side

“I’m Finn” He offered me his hand

“Y/N”

We shook hands and he said

“Beautiful name for a beautiful lass”

“I’ve never heard that one before” I mocked, making him laugh

“So, what are you gonna do later?” Finn asked and I sensed his intention

“Look, Finn” I look into his blue eyes “My brother is the one who’s into wrestlers, not me”

“And I’m not into your brother, I’m into you” He sincerely said

His words were so honest that caught me off guard and made me laugh

“You’re funny” I smiled

“You’re gorgeous“ He chews on his gum with a boyish smile on his face

“How come you’re so confident?” I asked amused

Finn shrugged “I’m a Leo, it comes naturally” He winked and I laugh

“Y/N!” My brother screamed, coming to me with Tim by his side

“Hi, Y/N” Tim greeted, hugging me tightly

“How are you, Timmy?”

“Better now” He looked at Leon with pure love in his eyes

“Finn, you wanna come?” Tim asked

“Yeah, sure”

“Where are you guys going anyways?” I ask them

“We’re going to that sushi place, you’re coming, right?” Tim asked me

“Honestly? No” I sighed

“Why?” Leon, Tim and Finn asked at the same time

“You know I’m not a sushi lover, ok? So I’ll pass! But, please, feel free to eat my part of the sushi boat” I smile fondly

“Where are you going then?” Leon asked worriedly

“To the hotel, I’ll order some room service”

“I thought we were supposed to enjoy the city together” Leon reminded me

“And we will, tomorrow!” I got up from the bench kissing Leon and Tim on the cheek “Also, you don’t need a third wheel tonight! Enjoy your night together, lovebirds” I winked at them

“Nice to meet you, Finn” I said

“And you” I look at Tim as I was grabbing my backpack “Take care of my little brother or I’ll kick your ass!”

Tim laughed “Got it, boss”

“I’m coming with you” Finn stood up

“You’re declining sushi?” Tim asked in shock

“Changed my mind. Room service sounded very tempting all of a sudden” He smirked, looking at me

*Does he never give up?* I thought

......................................................................

Finn and I walked from the arena to the hotel. He’s surprisingly a very nice and funny guy. We talked about different subjects and I grew fondly of him in that short 40 minutes walk.

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something?” He asked

“Of course. Just let me take a shower and change clothes and I’ll meet you in your room, is that ok?”

“Sure, love. I’m in room 433”

After 40 minutes I knocked on his door. I went for a safe choice of black leggings and a crop top. I didn’t wanted to look like I’m trying to impress him but didn’t wanted to show up too sloppy either.

“Hey” Finn smiled softly, wearing now a pair of grey joggings and a black t-shirt, with his hair still wet from his shower.

“Come on in” Finn intertwine our fingers, pulling me towards the couch

“Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thank you”

“What do you want for dinner?” He smiled, grabbing the hotel menu.

Finn decided for a fusilli with pesto and grilled chicken and I went for a zucchini spaghetti. He ordered a wine bottle to go with our dinner (which he insisted in paying for).

We talked and ate, sitting on the couch, looking at each other. Sharing stories and laughs, forgetting all about the movie.

“Did you liked living in Japan?” I asked, sipping from my wine glass

“I loved actually, it was one of the best times of my life”

“Then why did you leave there to wrestle in America?”

“It was a new opportunity with a great company. Wrestling is my life so I had to take it, you know?”

“Yeah” I smiled at him

Finn took the wine glass out of my hand and placed on top of the coffee table, next to his.

“I like to try new things, Y/N” He leans forward, until his lips are centimeters away from mine “I like to have new experiences” His hand rested on the side of my neck, while his thumb caress my cheek

“So I’m gonna be straight forward with you. You’re a very beautiful woman, I feel very attracted to you and I would love to spend the night together and have some fun” He whispered

“Oh, you’re mean” I chuckled

“No, I’m not” He smirked “I’m honest! So tell me, do you want to spend the night with me?”

“Yes” I murmur

Finn’s lips touched mine, softly at first, until we got used to each other but then the air changed.

His kiss became more vigorous, rough and hard. Finn’s hands gripped my neck lightly

“I like things a little rough, Y/N. So, if at anytime you feel like it’s too much, you let me know, ok?”

“I doubt that it will be too much��� I smirked “Never found a man who could give me as hard as I like it” I chuckled

“Is that a challenge, love?” He grinned, walking us towards the bed

“Are you up for it, sir?” I batted my lashes

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that” Finn closed his grip on my neck

“Give me your worst” I smile in pleasure once I feel the pressure upon my neck increasing.

Finn shoved me down to the bed, quickly yanking off my crop top and sports bra and ripping my leggings at the crotch. Smirking when he saw no underwear.

“Oh, you came halfway ready didn’t you, love?” Finn chuckled, spitting on his fingers and spreading it through my folds until he stopped at my clit.

“Play with your tits” Finn commands

I obey him, massaging my breasts softly. Pinching my nipples until they are hard for him.

Finn lightly slapped one of my hands away, capturing the free nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue on it.

The pressure he was putting on my clit was dreamy.

I moan softly at the sweet torture he’s causing me

“Your moans are so fucking hot” Finn says, scratching his teeth on my nipple and quickly attacking the other one.

He dive down, into my core. The minute he started to lick me, I’m in heaven! The guy is THAT good.

“Oh fuck” I moaned “Why are you so good at this?”

Finn looks up to meet my gaze and slowly smiles, still licking my folds tortuously.

“You’re so wet for me” He whispered, licking a long stripe from my entrance to my clit. Where he locked his lips and began to suck on it.

I tried to close my legs in order to get some relief, but Finn held them down on the mattress, open for him.

I never came from just pussy eating without any fingering, but I felt like I could come at any minute now.

“I want you to come on my face” Finn said

“I can’t, I need something in” I shuddered

“No, you don’t, silly” He smiled deviously and sucked my clit even harder

“Come.On.My.Face.Right.Now” He commanded with a hard slap on my ass between every word

And I did. Grabbing the sheets forcefully into my fists I borderline screamed his name in pleasure.

The contractions of my orgasm were so hard that I had my own release dripping down my lips.

Before it could reach the mattress, Finn eagerly licked.

“So good” He coos

“Please, can I suck your dick?” I beg

“That desperate, huh?” Finn cackled

“Yes, I am, sir” I place myself in all fours on the bed and nuzzle my face on his clothed erection.

“Please, sir. I really need it” I pleaded

Finn’s eyes grew dark in pleasure “Take him out” He smirked

And I just understood why, when I free him from his pants.

He was THICK and LONG, but that just made me grew even more eager to have him in me.

“I can’t wait to have you in me” I giggled

“Yeah? Do you think you can handle it, love?” He laughed at my excitement

“Not only I CAN handle it but will enjoy every second of it” I smirk at him and while looking up at him, I shoved him down my throat.

I made sure to relax my throat as much as I could and keep a lot of saliva to make it easier for the both of us.

“You sure know what you’re doing, love. So sloppy...it’s fucking beautiful!” Finn moaned “Feels so fucking good”

I can feel him twitching on my throat, that’s when he pulls off

“That’s enough. I don’t want to come on your mouth”

Finn quickly got rid of his clothes. When I began to take off my crotch ripped leggings Finn said

“Leave them on! I want to fuck you like that. Turn around”

When I lay down on my stomach Finn’s hands ripped my leggings more so he can have a full vision of my ass

“So fucking hot” He slapped my ass cheeks

I look over my shoulder to Finn and found him touching himself while looking at me.

Finn smirked, reaching for the bedside table, he pulled out a condom.

Rolling down his length, he positioned himself behind me

“Let me know if it’s too much, is color system ok for you?”

“Sure. Green: go, yellow: slow down and red: stop”

“Good” He smiles “Let’s ser if you really can take it like you said earlier” Finn teased making me laugh

He slowly pushed in, letting me get used to his size bit by bit. He felt even bigger than he looked.

Once he’s buried inside of me, Finn and I both moaned loudly

“Shit... I’ve never fucked someone as tight as you. Jesus fuck!”

“You’re so thick is heavenly” I panted

Finn began to move slowly at first. Stretching my walls for him, until we’re both used to how each other felt.

Then the fun started. His thrusts became harder and faster, making me curl my toes in pleasure.

“Choke me, sir. Please”

Finn’s hands locked around my neck pulling me back to meet him until my back is arched painfully so Finn can kiss me vigorously.

“You’re such a good little whore” Finn grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling me back even more, until I was holding my weight up on my arms.

Finn fucked me even harder and I couldn’t help but moan.

“You didn’t lied, you really can take it! Can’t you?” He bites my neck

“Yes, sir. Every fucking inch” I giggled

“I can see that, lass. Such a cock whore. I love that!” He laughed amused

I could already feel the familiar burning on my lower abdomen

“Sir, please. I need to-“ I stopped my sentence when his pace grew even faster

“Come, love. Come on my cock, I wanna feel you” Finn whispered on my ear

A chocked moan left my lips as I came around him

“Oh fuck, you’re squeezing my cock so good I can barely move” Finn mumbled

His hands reached my clit and he circled the little nub, prolonging my own orgasm as he came with a growl.

We stood still for a minute to catch our breaths.

Finn went to the bathroom and started to fill up the tub.

*That’s my cue to go, I guess* I thought and begin to get dressed. Finn walked out of the bathroom and frowned

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving. Thanks for the dinner and the fun” I tried to hide my disappointment

“And who said you‘re supposed to leave?”

“What? I thought-“

“Thought wrong, love” He smiled, pulling my crop top off my body

“C’mon” Finn offers me his hand “Let’s go take a bath then we can order some more room service and make out on the couch” He winked

And Finn was faithful to his word. We took a long bath together, talking and laughing. Then he ordered us some room service, my all time favorite: cheeseburgers.

“I thought you didn’t eat junk food” I said mesmerized when my eyes meet the burgers

“I do sometimes!” He defended himself making me look at him in disbelief

“What?” He asked and I raised one eyebrow at him

“Fine! I eat it once every 2 years, ok?”

“Once every 2 years?” I gasp “Damn dude! You’re surreal” I stare at him in shock

Finn bites my cheek lightly “Don’t you think I deserve a treat after the night we just had? You drained me, woman!” He chuckled making me blush in embarrassment

“Stop” I slapped his shoulder lightly

“Awww you’re blushing” Finn laughed softly “You’re so damn cute” He gave me a smooch and said “Let’s go, love. Or the burgers will get cold”

The night ended with more talking and make out sessions on the couch

“I want you to sleep here with me” Finn whispered

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” He smiled

When sleep finally took over us, Finn dragged us to the bed. We spooned and Finn pulled me as close as he physically could. Sweetly kissing the top of my head we both fell asleep within minutes.

......................................................................

Something moving around the bed was disturbing me from my sleep

“Y/N, wake up” His deep voice called

“Love, c’mon wake up!” Finn giggled while I groan in protest.

“Will you wake up if I say I got you breakfast?”

“Food? Where?” I mumbled, quickly sitting up on the bed and making Finn laugh hard

The breakfast tray was on top of the bed, with juice, coffee, scrambled eggs, fruit salad, toast and chocolate chips pancakes.

“I didn’t knew what you were in the mood for, so I got a little bit of everything” Finn smiled, slightly embarrassed

“This is perfect, thank you! But you didn’t had to, you know”

Finn rolled his eyes “That’s nonsense! Choose whatever you want to eat so we can go before we run late”

“Go? Where?” I ask confused

“Aren’t we going to explore the city with your brother and Tim?” He asked, chewing on a piece of pineapple

“You’re coming along with us?”

“Yeah...unless you don’t want me to” He whispered softly

“Of course I want you to come along” I smile widely and he smiled back

“So go on, eat your breakfast so we can go to your room and get you some clothes” Finn winked

And I thought to myself *How the hell am I supposed to be with this man for just one night?*....

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[nightswithkookmin]

Hi! Goldy, do you know why are jikookers making such a big deal out of jk saying “I’m hyung ‘s copy cat”. I’m I missing something here , why is everyone acting like they just confessed their love , if anything vmin were more sus 😂

Lol shippers...

We are like a bunch of boohbahs on crack every day. We get excited over everything and anything- which I think is the point of shipping though. Lol.

Not sure what you are missing as I haven't seen the show in its entirety yet...

But off the top of my head, I'd say it's probably because of the blushing and the whole Kook's ear turning red bit when JM was addressing him about copying him.

He did the same thing in the Be.TS Vlive when Jimin put him on the spot about posting on his birthday. Jimin makes him shy

It's been several years and Jimin still has an effect on him. I think it's cute.

Also, the bit about them confessing...

You actually not wrong. Lol.

JM used to say JK copies him because JK liked him and so JK would deny that all the time. To accept that he was imitating JM would mean he was admitting he liked Jimin- that he thought Jimin was cool, had impeccable style yadda yadda.

Jimin might as well had asked JK to confess he liked him.

They both had a habit of trying to get the other to confess their feelings for them in the past.

JM: I am Army.

JK: Do you like me that much?

JM: I had blue eyes first.

JK: No. Mine is bluer

JM: Stop imitating me.

Do you like me that much?

Jk: No

It was their way of flirting. So I guess in effect, in admiting he imitates JM, Jimin sort of got JK to officially admit he likes him🤷🏽‍♀️

'Do you like me?'

'Do you?'

'Do you?'

And he acted so innocent about it too.

This man! Lol

That innocent pout afterwards my God. Lmho.

There's just a lot of history between those two. A lot, and it's nice to see them remind eachother of that.

And I think it's the history and memories, the nolstagia he evoked in JK with that comment that had JK blushing hard especially if he read double meaning in that request.

From, his reaction I'd say he did.

All these double entendres chilee.

Its intriguing JK had such a strong reaction to something seemingly less intense or even cringe. That comment was supposed to be a safe bet. The safest conversation JM could have with Kook in front of new audience to not make things awkward in the room and yet...

There's no hope for JK. Dude is gone. Bid him farewell to gay boulevard🤧

Jimin was like why are you blushing it's nothing heavy or something like that and that reminded me again of that whole, 'did I scold you" bit from New Jersey.

Jimin had a strong reaction to what JK deemed a trivial issue- Which I gotta smirk at. Smirk.

It's interesting that of all the things he could ask Jk, this is what he chose to ask him. I think he genuinely believed it was a safer conversation to have- Y'all think VMin was wilding, wait till you meet the Jikooknims.

Imagine if JK had said what V said to JM or if JM had said that to JM. Imagine that...

I mean I get it, if they are going to be regulars on traditional SK media now, they have to be able to interact 'normally' within the group without the members or eachother panicking and acting like Jikook be spelling the nuclear codes with their butts.

We've discussed the gradual shift in BigHit's marketing model but it seems with all the Asian hate crimes, racism, stigmatization of Asians and Asian Americans in the wake of the pandemic, it's become imperative that they redirect their focus and attention to SK to solidify their presence and hold in their home market.

I'm afraid we might be seeing a shift towards the company pandering to their roots and adhering to traditional media practices with mostly one foot in the international market, and one foot in their home market.

And if that's the case, Jikook would have to be able to tether the line of their closet without making things awkward for eachother and the members lest they risk exposing themselves to the gay hateration and criticism rampant in Korea.

Bang PD have made it perfectly clear, he is not about the risk taking life. That he prefers as a company to play things safe- I wonder if he's stance on that has changed in recent times.

But I don't think when it comes to it, he'd risk it for them. He's not gonna shove their alternative lifestyle in conservative spaces like that. Chilee.

Anywho, Jimin likes to rile JK up and watch him squirm sometimes but naa I don't think that was the agenda this time around...

Then there was this bit also

Which I think my guy spilled right there😏

I've been saying for the longest time BigHit staff take stock in the Jikook business. There you have it.

They style Jikook. They style BTS. So all the times they've appeared in couple outfits, matching shoes, complimentary hairstyles, all the time they deliberately cut from JK to Jimin or Jimin to JK, all the times they've paired Jikook up, isolated them from the group so Jikook can give them a moment-

When I say BigHit is intentional in the way they brand Jikook within the group and in the way they push those two not as friends but as a 'couple'

And because of this people scream Jikook is fan service blah blah nonsense.

But the question have always been, why does these two grown ass men go along with it. Do they not know what it means when of all seven they are the two that are constantly marketed as 'lovers?" They are not twins, neither are they twelve and so why the need to match their fits?

And how come none of them object to this?

Why don't they ask questions???

Bet. Bet there's a reason for that.

As for Vmin all I have to say is...

Tae Kook who? Tae Kook WHERE?!

Lmho. Vmin, TaeJin, (Tae kook) VHope, Taegi

In that particular order for Tae's ships. The last three are fluid with Tae Kook alternating anywhere from 3rd to the last position lol.

I saw their shippers bust out their go to, 'Tae was being sarcastic" he hates Jimin rhetoric - like

GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE.

Tae talks some strong Vmin agenda.

We been knew. We been said it

He flirts Jimin hard to gay proportions too.

'In love with my Soulmate- a memoir written by Kim Taehyung. Coming soon to a bookshop near you. Lmho.

If Jimin catches feelings for Tae one day it's game over for us all🤣🤣🤣🤣

'We need to stop. This game is dangerous.'

Then he proceeds to gulp on top of it 🤣🤣

Reminds me of when JK was asked if Jimin wasn't his style and JK was fumbling and Jimin said, cut the cameras. Deadass. Lol

'Jk don't answer that' 🤭

Why shouldn't he answer that?

Jimin is a funny guy. A funny gay guy🤭

And did y'all see how hard Yoongi screamed when Tae said that?

Lolololololololololololololololololololololololol

Tae doesn't need to convince me he has feelings for Jimin. I'm convinced all by myself 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

And is it me or did Tae look like he didn't believe Jimin when JM said he liked him too??🤔

I can't wait to watch the whole thing.

I love their relationship. I hate when people invalidate it. VMin does not invalidate Jikook nor does Jikook invalidate VMin or even Tae Kook. They all are, unique and they are beautiful me thinks.

They ought not be compared in this way but celebrated.

It's not a competition.

Talk of celebrating ships, did you see Tae and Kook too??? 🤭🤭🤭🤭

I love seeing them in a good place in their dynamic like this.

It's the look he shot JK when the envelope ended up infront of him for me😂

Tae is hilarious I swear! Lmho.

I kinda lowkey wished it was for him I won't lie.

It's the same energy as when JK grabbed his neck and said he wanted to ride in the car with Tae. (If those subs were correct. Can't trust any unofficial subs on any Tuktuk moment💀)

Tae was like 👀 waeyo? Lmho.

I'm off to ship Tae Kook and VMin.

Keep your eyes on the gays for me.

Bye🤣

💜💜💜💜

Signed,

GOLDY

[yoonieboonie]

The Substitute Lover (2)

word count: 1.7k

genre: fluff, angst hehe

pairing: myg x reader

summary: Finally meeting the college boy you've been eyeing on for months, everything goes wrong when you realise what you're really getting yourself into.

a/n: this is part 2!!! i cant figure out how to link the first part properly but if you know how pls slide into my dms and teach me hehe you can find part 1 at my tumblr profile. thank you for the love on the first chapter!!! 🥺 i'll do my best!!! NEXT | PREVIOUS

As soon as you're out of the view, Hoseok immediately swung an arm around Yoongi's shoulder. He was delighted for his friend, afterall, it has been a while since he was in a relationship.

Yoongi took what happened to heart. Namjoon noticed, it didn't take a genius to. He warningly eyed Hoseok who pretended not to see him. The mint haired boy shrugged off the hand and faced them.

"It's your fault, Hoba." He sighed, using the nickname they had for their energetic friend. "She's a senior and isn't around the campus much but news here spread like wildfire. I don't want her to think—" he continued but Hoseok cut him off.

"Think what? Listen, Yoongi. It's over between you two, it has been for a long time. I think it's time you quit moping and start giving yourself a chance to be happy again." This made Yoongi snap his head towards him. Hoseok may be chatty but he always knew not to cross that line. Both him and Namjoon did. What happened was considered taboo and was never spoken about, no matter how long ago it was.

"What did that Y/N feed you? Aren't I your friend here?" He challenged. Hoseok was about to answer when Namjoon intervened. He patted both of the men on the shoulder to kill the tension arising.

"Let's head to rehearsals, please. I don't want to be the receiving end of Mrs. Lee's anger today."

The auditorium was crowded, all students that are part of the recital are scattered around. Since the trio are all helping the backstage crew, they immediately went to their place and settled in.

"Where have you guys been?" Mijin whispered. They all shrugged in return, she wouldn't rat them out. Knowing well that she would do anything to cover up for Yoongi. Though she acts nonchalant about it, she has been crushing on him since their freshmen years.

"Just do your job and don't fuck this up. Please." She pleaded. All the trio did was nod.

-----------------------------------------------

You are now banging your head on the library table, earning looks from the other students who are procrastinating due to the upcoming finals. If the stake wasn't this high, you wouldn't be this stressed about it. You mentally scold yourself for acting so bold that day. For all you know, Yoongi might be a secret genius and that leaves you making a damn fool out of yourself not only in front of Hoseok and Namjoon but the entire campus aswell.

News of your mess spread quickly, the girl who wore thick-glasses and ugly sweaters asking the ace of the Music department out. You try and avoid their stares and focused on your notes. Praying to the heavens that you at least score decent enough if not scoring higher than Yoongi.

At this point, you don't even bother for the date. You just want to do your best. That is until it was time for your Humanities class again. Your hands are clammy as the test paper are handed out. You prepared for the test but somehow, your heart is pounding out of your chest.

You easily navigate through the questions but one left you confused. You try to recall the answer for a good five minutes but eventually gave up. If you don't know it now, you'll probably not know it later. That is until all papers have been passed and it was time to exit the classroom that a lightbulb went off in your head.

"Plato." you whine. The answer was Plato. You rub your fingers to your temple and let out a frustrated groan.

"Y/N!" a voice you recognise to be Hoseok called out. Honestly, you don't want to face them today. You are embarrassed still, and you're sure if looks could kill, you'd be dead at how Yoongi is shooting glares in your direction.

You adjust your backpack and offered a wave.

"Do you already know where you want to go for the date?" Namjoon teased. Hoseok laughed beside him, shoving his hands in his jean pockets.

"Oh," You sigh. "I don't think I'd be able to go on that date."

That made Yoongi look up at you. He should be relieved, he thought. But he was more intrigued as to why you decided against the bet.

"I forgot the answer to Test II, number 5. I left it blank instead, however when I remembered the answer, the papers were already collected." Not that Yoongi cared, but you seemed sad to not be able to go on that date.

"Think positive, Y/N. The deal was to score higher not to have a perfect score." Hoseok encouraged.

"It's okay, what matters was that I tried. I know Yoongi will ace the test. Specially when the stake was a date with me." you shrugged nonchalantly.

You moved towards him and held out a hand. He eyed it skeptically before lifting his arm to shake it.

"Wait! The results are not out yet!" Namjoon whined. If he was initially opposed to this, he no longer was. He was just as invested as Hoseok was. Pushing you to win against Yoongi.

You laughed and took a step back. "Alright then. If I do win, I want to go to Lotte World."

"You haven't been there?" Hoseok asked. You shook your head.

"I came from Daegu. This is my first time in Seoul and I haven't been able to roam around due to our classes. Besides, I don't see the point entirely but if I would go on a date, I would like it to be there."

Yoongi pretended to not pay attention. It made sense that you were not from the metro. The way you dress and your things are certainly not what a typical college student would wear to the campus. To add to that, he now does notice an accent from the way you speak.

"Namjoon!" a voice called over. It was Mijin, if you recall correctly, she was also part of the rehearsals the trio attended. Hoseok introduced the both of you the first time you had lunch with them. Taking that as a cue to leave, you gathered your things and went home.

The week flew by and before you know it, it was time for the exam results. You were dreading to attend class but not wanting to look like a sore loser, you got ready for the day.

Yoongi subconsciously kept track of the days too. Instead of practicing and attending rehearsals, he found himself too caught up with waiting for the results. He tried to convince himself that he just wants to ensure that you two never go on that date but he isn't really sure.

His heart was pounding out of his chest as he lay down his bed. He was one of the few lucky ones who doesn't have a roommate. Hoseok and Namjoon were, on the otherhand. Deciding to take the day off, he doesn't really give a fuck if he wins or loses the bet. With that, he turned and covered his head with a pillow, trying to fall back asleep.

"Pay up." Yoongi groaned as he hears Hoseok's voice inside his dorm. Namjoon chuckled and called out to Yoongi.

"Hey, I put my bet on you! Hoba told me you'd be too chicken to attend class today and I didn't believe him but seeing it for myself," he trailed off. Yoongi blindy threw his pillow at the two boys maniacally laughing to his side.

"Get up and get dressed. We're going to be late." Namjoon ordered.

Yoongi decided to not bother arguing with them. He knows he won't be able to get out of this so might as well get it done and over with.

Walking to class was annoying for Yoongi. With Hoseok waving the money Namjoon paid him with in Yoongi's face and dreading the results of the exam. He was fucking frustrated.

You came into view, trying to insert yourself into the crowd of people. Trying to get a view of the results. You failed, being lanky and small. You huff, to which Yoongi watched in amusement. You were something, he thought.

"Y/N!" Hoseok beamed and Namjoon followed. Yoongi trailed behind.

"Oh, I haven't seen the results. I'm waiting for the crowd to die down." You explained. Hoseok, excited to know the results, held onto you and helped you squeeze into the bodies of students trying to get a glimpse of their grade.

Yoongi's eyes trailed from Hoseok's hand that was holding onto both of your arms from behind. He knew that his friend was just eager to know the results in order to rub it in his face but the contact of skin made him feel as if it's something he shouldn't be seeing. It felt as if his eyes were interrupting something.

You seemed uncomfortable, he noted. Hoseok was one to be physically comfortable around people. With occasional brushes of hands or an arm around shoulders, you can always expect it from him. Yoongi knew this but he was still somehow bothered by it.

"Yoongi." He was snapped out of his daze when you called for him. He saw your tiny figure offer him a hand.

"Congratulations, Yoongi. It was a great bet." You spoke calmly. He wondered what the results were. To confirm, he didn't shake your hands but instead took a look at it for himself.

FINALS RESULT SY 20XX-20XX

1. Kim Namjoon -100/100

2. Min Yoongi and L/N F/N - 99/100

3. --------------

4. --------------

5. --------------

6. --------------

7. Jung Hoseok -89/100

8. --------------

9. --------------

10. --------------

His eyes widened. He realised you congratulated him because technically, you didn't score higher than him. You didn't win.

Hoseok and Namjoon was chatting with you, patting your back as you smiled at them in return. Assuring them that it's okay and you'll go to Lotte World another time.

"Don't worry, Y/N. Hoba and I would bring you to Lotte World soon!" Namjoon beamed.

You laughed in glee and thanked both of them.

You were about to walk away when Yoongi did something he didn't expect.

"Meet me at the campus gate, 9:00am tomorrow. Don't be late."

With that, Yoongi turned and left. Leaving you with your mouth hanging open, Hoseok and Namjoon smiling at you as they try to catch up with their friend. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

NEXT | PREVIOUS

[skellebonez]

So apparently in JTTW, Baije kept trying to get the monk to say the thing that would activate the torture headband? According to a post I just saw anyway. So I'd like to prompt something where Monkie Kid era Monkey King and Pigsy are arguing, and Monkey King brings that up, because it's kind of /messed up/. Preferably with prompts 25 or 47 because those seem vaguely fluffy and I don't want it to end /sad/ plz?

There are multiple times in the book (though it happened more often early on) where Zhu Bajie took full advantage of how much Tripitaka trusted him and made Wukong’s day miserable because of it, he isn’t the middle brother for nothing! The two have a better relationship as the book goes on, but as an eldest sibling I can tell you... even if you're on good terms later, sometimes you still remember the ways they used to mess with you... also I went overboard. Very overboard. This is really long.

"You have until the count of three to remove your arms from my person, or so help me…!"/ “Tell me what you want me to do."

Things had been going so well... at least as well as could be expected given they had only really seen each other twice after 500 years of Sun Wukong vanishing.

Their first meeting, their initial reunion, wasn't so much a meeting and more "hey I'm here to help MK fight because things are actually really bad and I totally don't already know who two of you are" and then lots of saving the world without the time to talk to or call out his once elder brother before he ran off. Their second meeting was not long after, Wukong coming to check up on MK at the shop and "oh yeah uh I kinda know your boss Bud". Which. Nice job revealing his secret Wukong.

That was a very interesting conversation, explaining to MK that he was indeed The Zhu Bajie from the stories and yes Tang knew and no only Tang knew and no he did not want to talk about why this was kept secret. Then it devolved into MK insisting the two of them needed to hang out together and then questions about Sandy and then how it was so cool that his dad was friends with his mentor. The at first befuddled and then completely shocked expression on Wukong's face as he finally put two and two together made agreeing to MK's insistence so much easier.

Easier than being pogo'd to Flower Fruit Mountain and then being stuck there as MK ran off to do "hero stuff" with Mei, anyway. At first it was awkward, being shown around the mountain by a man who he had spent years of his life with and was clearly trying to not look uncomfortable at the time lost between them.

Then the monkeys attacked. Well. Less attacked, more jumped on Pigsy in sheer excitement. It only took a few seconds for Wukong to cackle and pull them off him with the care of a roughhouseing father. Some of them were just little ones barely new to the world (he didn't miss how much more careful Wukong was with them), but Pigsy recognized a few of the elder ones from the time he had come here to bring Wukong back after the... WBS and Wood Wolf... event.

He also didn't expect any of them to actually remember him or to see Wukong acting so positively parental in comparison to how he acted the last time he was here. It was strange, he knew the Monkey King could be caring and that he had changed on their journey and must have become different over their time apart, but this was a side he had never truely thought he would see from him ever before. And he couldn't help but chuckle a bit at that.

It was like a tension line was finally let slack. They didn't simply slide back into banter, but they were much more relaxed. Wukong pointed out where he had been training MK, showed him to where his house stood (Pigsy wondered if he ever tried to rebuild the palace that had burnt down long before he visited all those years ago, but did not dare to bring that up either). The house was much more modern than he had expected, even having full internet access and TV and a kitchen.

He would never tell anyone about the passionate 1 hour conversation they had about cooking when he realized Wukong picked it up as a hobby. No one will ever know their debate/rant on how to properly prepare dough for steaming and how so many people do it wrong.

At some point they ate a lunch Wukong had prepared, much better than Pigsy expected, and that's probably when it went downhill.

He'd made an offhanded joke about people who use too much seasoning. Wukong joked back, asking if his underseasoned cooking was up to Pigsy's standards. Pigsy had shoved the monkey on old reflex, not hard and not nearly enough to move him, saying if he wanted him to compliment his cooking he could have just asked like a good big brother.

That had started a friendly wrestling match, not unlike ones they had had before and that drew a crowed of monkeys excited to watch. That wrestling match turned more violent before Pigsy had realized it and somehow, some way, they started actually fighting. He yelled about how Wukong had no right to just make MK his sucessor. Wukong yelled about how he chose MK because he was the most qualified and capable person he found. Pigsy shot back that he barely knew him before training him and if he had even bothered to try knowing him he would have known he was Pigsy's kid and he was a shitty mentor. Wukong screamed at that, scaring off most of their audience with the volume, picking Pigsy up off the ground entirely with his arms pinned down.

"You take that back right now, Bajie!" Wukong hissed out in a dangerous tone, one Pigsy didn't give a single damn about heeding in his anger.

"You have until the count of three to remove your arms from my person, or so help me...!" Pigsy fought against Wukong's hold, scrambling for any kind of purchase he could get with his feet dangling off the ground.

"Or what, Bajie? What!? Are you going to find another fillet and tell MK the sutra for it this time!? Are you going to make him not trust me like you did Tripitaka!? ARE YOU!?"

The words made Pigsy stop, but it was Wukong's tone that made him try to turn back to look at him. He'd sounded angry before but now he sounded... genuinely upset. Not angry upset. Sad upset. "I wouldn't do that."

"You did before." Damn it. He really was sad upset...

"Yeah... Yeah, I did." Pigsy admitted with only slight hesitation as he looked at the ground beneath him. "I'm sorry. About how I acted back then. I made everything harder than needed. I made Master hurt you and you didn't deserve it. More often than I'd like to admit..." There was a beat of silence before he decided to take a chace with a question that would probably upset Wukong more. But he had to ask. "How... how painful was it?"

The two of them didn't move for a while, Pigsy just hanging limply until Wukong slowly leaned down and set his feet back on ground. His grip losened slighly, but he didn't let Pigsy go as he rested his forehead against the back of Pigsy's head with a sigh. "Very. Very painful. It... the way it... Bajie, I don't want to-"

"You don't have to," Pigsy interrupted, raising one of his arms now that he could move to grab and squeeze his wrist. "If 'very' is all you want to say, I get it. I'm sorry."

"You already said that."

"And I'll say it again because I mean it." Pigsy pulled away, Wukong’s grip weakened enough for him to without even the smallest fight, and turned around to face him.

He reached up, Wukong giving him an odd confused look as he placed his hands over and around his forehead. Realization dawned quickly and he tensed as Pigsy felt the almost imperceptible scars hidden under his well groomed fur. For the band to have been impactful enough to leave marks at all, let alone after all this time... some didn't feel like cuts or stretches, more like burns almost.

"I'm sorry too," Wukong said suddenly. "For being an ass. I wasn't exactly the greatest travel companion myself at times. And for... for disappearing."

"I already forgave ya for the stuff on the journey long ago," Pigsy said as he pulled his hands back and crossed his arms. "Couldn't sit right with myself if I held a grudge for what you did after the shit I pulled. But I appreciate the apology for up and vanishing. And uh, I'm sorry for calling you a shitty mentor."

"You better be!" Wukong chuckled, standing up straight with an awkward crooked smile. "But, you know, I could stand to be a better teacher. You weren't wrong when I said I don’t know enough about MK."

"I could tell you a few things," Pigsy offered. "Nothing personal, just like how we met and what his job is like. To make up for the. Everything."

"Hmn..." Wukong made a point to rub his chin in thought, clearly about to do something Pigsy wondered if they would both regret. "On one condition."

"Tell me what you want me to do," Pigsy sighed out, fully resigned for whatever the Monkey King was going to ask.

"Cook me dinner."

... that... was not what he expected at all. "That's it?"

"That's it!"

That wasn't near enough to make up for anything in Pigsy's mind... but if that’s what Wukong wanted he supposed that was a start.

[ilovefandoms102]

Taking Chances

Pairing: College!Drew Starkey x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: The basketball star seeks help from the girl he’s been crushing on for two years...will she reciprocate his feelings?

Note: I really hope you guys like this! Please let me know what you think and if you want me to continue this!

AlSo, how I describe the college locations and classes is based off how MY college is! Just for reference so no one is confused!

Part 2

=====================================

They say that college is supposed to be the best time of your life…

Well, that might be the case for some. For me, being plus size has left me out of a lot of the college experience. I didn’t have a lot of friends, at least not any that I actively talk to. I kept to myself most of the time, observing life around me. I watched the blonde, preppy girls with their Starbucks as they threw themselves at the Alpha Si whatever dudes. The Sorority and Frat people didn’t give me a second glance, always giving me a look of disgust when I walked by one of the tables near the Student Center. 

At this point in my life, the stares and the whispers didn’t bother me so much as they annoyed me. It’s 2020 and 80% of the population is a size 14-16, so I didn’t understand why people still acted like that. I was making my way to class, spotting some of the school’s basketball players. One in particular always stood out, Drew Starkey. We had a lot of classes together since we both majored in Psychology.

=================================

Drew’s POV:

I watched as the girl I had crushed on for the past two years walked by, my eyes trailing down her gorgeous body. She was perfect, and I wanted her all to myself. She was way out of my league though, no way would a beautiful woman such as her give me the time of day, but I was determined to prove myself. 

“Dude, are you ever gonna grow some balls and ask her out?” my team mate Brady asked.

“Man look at her, she’d say no in a heartbeat...she’s way too hot for me.” I sighed.

“You won’t know unless you try! It’s been two years, at least you could be her friend.” he suggested, bumping his shoulder to mine. 

I looked back at the girl one more time, her pretty face coming in view as she ducked into the same exact building I was going to for my first class. This was the sign I needed, if we had another class together I knew that the universe was telling me to make a move. 

“Better make a move before someone else does Starkey,” Brady called as he walked the opposite way.

Jealousy surged through me immediately of the thought of any other guy touching her. She was mine, well not yet, but she was going to be mine. I was sure of it, or I hope so. What if she thinks I’m a typical douchebag jock? What if she thinks I’m not funny? 

I had a million other thoughts running in my head, but quickly shoved them to the back of my brain as I got closer to the classroom. I peaked in and sure enough, there she was.

This is my chance...

=================================

Back to Y/n POV:

It was the start of a new semester of my junior year, so I was pretty deep in my major. This also meant I would be having classes with a lot of the same people. I made my way to the back of the classroom which was always where I sat in every single class I’ve taken. 

I don’t like people looking at me, so I chose to sit where no one could actively be staring at the back of my head. It was no surprise when Drew Starkey came sauntering in, talking to a few people before his eyes landed on me. I quickly averted his gaze, looking down at my notebook I had laid out. 

I grew more tense when I heard footsteps approaching me, a chair being moved made me jump. My head shot up when Drew plopped down next to me, grinning widely at my confused face.

“Hey,” Drew greeted, nodding his head.

“Um, hi.” I replied, looking over my shoulder to make sure he was talking to me.

“We’ve had a lot of classes together, so I figured it was about time I introduced myself, I’m Drew.” he smiled.

“Y/n, um I guess it’s nice to officially meet you.” I chuckled, even earning one from Drew.

=================================

Drew accompanied me after class to the school’s coffee shop a block from campus. I didn’t want to admit the butterflies it gave me, quickly shutting that feeling down as soon as it entered my body. I was not even going to entertain the thought of what I wanted(was)to feel.

 I went through too much trauma in my life and spent years building the exterior so that no one could enter, not even for love. I didn’t believe in love at this point in my life anymore, all it did was crush you and leave you disappointed. 

“What do you want?” he asked, glancing at me quickly before looking back to the menu.

“I get the same thing, pink drink with sweet cream foam and strawberry puree mixed in.” I rattled off, excitement brewing since I really loved that drink.

Drew went before me, and to my horror, he ordered his drink...and mine. My mouth hung open, I was in such a state of shock that I didn’t have time to object. I just really hoped the mean look I was sporting showed him I did not like what he did, but the sly bastard winked at me. He fucking WINKED at me.

“Drew,” I growled, and he smiled his toothy grin at me.

“What?” he asked in mock confusion.

“Don’t pull that shit again.” I snapped, stomping over to a nearby table. He grabbed our drinks, thanking the barista as he made his way over to me.

“A simple thank you would do sweetheart.” Drew smirked, sliding my drink over.

“Thanks,” I grumbled, rolling my eyes as I took a sip.

“So, what’s big star Drew Starkey want with someone like me?” I asked, swirling my drink around.

“A guy can’t take a beautiful woman out for coffee?” he questioned, arching his brow.

“He can, but why do I feel like you have something else in mind?” I hummed, squinting my eyes at him. 

“I actually need your help,” he sighed.

“What could I possibly help you with?” I laughed.

“My GPA last semester went down and if it gets lower after this semester, I won’t be able to play.” he admitted, poking his straw through his drink.

“And what makes you think I could help?” I inquired, now my turn to arch my brow.

“I just know you’re insanely smart, it’s a feeling.” he chuckled, leaning back in his seat.

I became acutely aware of the other people we went to school with eyeing us, making me retract from my leaning position. I could tell Drew noticed my change of mood almost instantly, looking to see that I wasn’t crazy with the fact that people were indeed staring. He glared at the first person he made eye contact with to which they turned away quickly.

“So will you help me?” he pleaded, reaching over to grab my hands.

My hands were engulfed in his, long fingers pressed into my wrists. Electricity shocked my skin, my hands automatically returned his grip. I stared into his pretty blue eyes, the pleading behind them sweet enough that it almost made my heart melt….ALMOST. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt anything since he seemed genuine enough, but I also would be lying if I said I didn’t want to get to know him better.

“What’s in it for me?” I smirked, leaning further towards him.

“Whatever you want sweetheart,” he winked, and I knew then that this was going to be quite the adventure.

=====================================

Taglist:

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[simpsiren]

lee donghyuck x reader, ft. johnny and dreamies

description. I’m working at an arcade, but I’m also the top scorer of the DDR machine. It was easy to guard my position till a sudden regular comes by and tries to beat it. But we somehow ended up at the beach?

genre. angst (at first), fluff, arcade au, strangers to lovers au

word count. 8.2k

a/n. hEllOo i felt like writing this just because i crave going to the arcade but its way too expensive for my broke ass so i can only write what i wish :’) so eNjoY!!

“How do you still have the energy to play that?” I hear the familiar voice and footsteps walking towards the DDR machine where I was at. I glance to him for a moment, seeing him sipping on his Starbucks coffee.

“Working at an arcade is probably the easiest job ever.” I breathe out, my eyes and feet concentrated on the game. I feel Johnny’s hand leaning on the handle behind me while he watches me.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Johnny mutters sarcastically. I stomp on the last beat and wait impatiently for my score, the numbers increasing at an extremely fast rate.

“No fucking way!” Johnny exclaims, his hand beating the handle vigorously as the two of us see the final score. I chuckle and got off the plate, snatching Johnny’s coffee from him to take a sip.

“I’m amazing.” I say with utter confidence, shoving the coffee back on Johnny’s chest, causing him to fall back a little while I make my way to the staff’s room.

Johnny silently follows behind me, waiting in front of the counter while I grab my bag and check if I left anything behind before going up to him. “Thanks for always fetching me from work.” Johnny and I made our way out of the arcade. I didn’t bother to close up since it was my other colleague’s job anyways.

“Yeah so where’s my pay?” Johnny puts his hand out and motions it to me as if he’s asking for money. I roll my eyes and faked my exasperation. “You aren’t my Grab driver so shut it.” I nudged my elbow to Johnny’s as the two of us chuckle and left the mall.

While Johnny’s driving me home, the two of us didn’t speak, with only music coming from the radio can be heard. Johnny clears his throat suddenly. I assume he was trying to break the silence so I turn my head to him and wait for him to say something.

“One question.” Johnny stated. I hum as a sign for him to continue. “Has anyone ever tried breaking your score on the DDR before?”

I pucker my lips as I try to think of an answer, quietly laughing to myself after thinking about it. Johnny raise an eyebrow at me, confused at my sudden laughter. “Plenty of times actually. But no one has ever officially beaten it.” I answer with a scoff.

“It’s so funny watching people get curious about KSY. They would never guess that it could be a worker at the arcade.” I elaborate. Johnny laughs, now knowing why I was laughing to myself earlier.

“Let’s make a bet.” Johnny suddenly announces, his eyes off the road and to you, a mischievous grin appearing on his face. I copy his expression, tilting my head to the side. “Bet on what, John?”

“The first person that beats your score.” Johnny replies nonchalantly. “Within three months, if someone actually beats you, I win. If not, then I don’t.”

“What’s the prize for winning?”

“If I win, you get me an unlimited arcade card like yours.”

I gape my mouth at his statement, gasping and widening my eyes. A card is used as an access system in the arcade, meaning that you need to have money in your card and scan it on the machine as payment before you can play. Having an unlimited card meant that you didn’t have to pay for any of the games at all.

“You do know that’s for staff only right? It’s off limits. Choose another prize.”

Johnny simply shrugs, clearly saying that he doesn’t care how rare the card is, as long as he could get it. “If I lose, I’ll treat you to all the bubble tea you want for three months.” Johnny raises his hand that was laying on his thigh and slicing it through the air.

I bite the inside of my right cheek as I thought about the bet. I already knew I’d win. In my whole two years of working there and playing DDR, no one has beaten me. Not once. And I never needed to try hard to keep my title. But for the fun of if, I accepted. Who knows? Maybe someone will sweep me off my feet unexpectedly.

Two months have passed and the bet Johnny made with me still stands. I had my eyes on the DDR machine every time someone gets on. Half of them played for the fun of it while the other are trying their best to beat me. But I could tell from their moves that they didn’t have what it took to even reach my standard.

“Honestly let’s just call off the bet and have me win.” I tell Johnny who’s here during my break since he wanted to visit me. I rest my chin on the palm of my hand as my body leans forward on the counter and my eyes fixated on the DDR machine which currently has no one playing.

“Bitch I still have a month to prove that one person- One person, can beat you.” Johnny holds out his index finger, shoving it in my face with fury. I heaved a sigh. Johnny’s a determined man indeed.

Just as Johnny and I were talking about having dinner after I get off work, a guy walks in the arcade. I don’t know why but, he caught my eye. I glanced at him but did a double-take instantly.

He comes striding in with a lazy posture, hands in his black jeans while he wears a white shirt and black leather jacket. The most outstanding feature of his is the face. That was probably the reason why he caught my eye in the first place.

He goes to the top up machine, probably to put money in his card. And the first place he goes to is the DDR machine. Suddenly, Johnny starts slapping my arm vigorously. My unimpressed reaction didn’t seem stop him. “We should watch him! He’s going to play.” Johnny seems so excited that he’s jumping a little.

“Oh my God calm down.” I smack Johnny’s arm hard, making him wince in pain but recovered soon enough and quiet down.

The guy stands on the plate and scans his card, shoving it in his front pocket. He starts choosing a song. To my surprise, he chooses the song that I played yesterday with a level difficulty of hard. Clearly, he’s aim is to beat my score.

Someone from the entrance suddenly calls out a name. The guy turned his head to the voice, raising his hand up to greet the other while he walks towards the DDR machine. I couldn’t hear what they were saying due to the sounds from the other games that dominates the whole arcade.

He finally starts to play. The moment he presses on the first beat, my mouth gaps open. My jaw practically dropped to the floor due to the wave of shock I suddenly felt. Whoever he is, he’s definitely a professional at DDR. His feet moves at immense speed as he hits every single beat perfectly, his hands casually chilling on the handle.

He seems unfazed by the difficulty of the song, tilting his head while he watches the screen, as if boring his eyes into it. “I can’t believe this...” I mutter in awe, completely mesmerised by the way the guy moves.

A large crowd slowly starts to gather around him as everyone whispers to each other and being amazed. He hits the final beat. Claps and cheers can be heard from all over the arcade. All the attention went to him and the screen as everyone waits anxiously for the score.

“Seems like he can beat you.” Johnny whispers to me, his elbow nudging on mine. I let out a ‘tsk’ and throw him a glare. “Let’s see the score first.”

The numbers increase rapidly. It going as high as mine usually would. The number finally stops as it enlarges on the screen. Disappointing sighs and noises can be heard.

“Five points away?!” Johnny shouts unbelievably. I place a hand on my chest and give myself time to get my breathing back to normal. “That was so close. Too close.” I say.

The crowd starts to disperse as the arcade goes back to its normal state with only the one guy that called him out at the entrance. The guy gets off the plate as I would just assume the other to be his friend, patting his shoulder as a sign of a job well done.

The two proceeded to play other games and exit two hours later. I didn’t have my eye on them the whole time, obviously. But I wouldn’t be surprise if he comes by regularly from now on to try and beat my score. On top of that, I’d be intrigued if I get to see a new face around here more often. At least I’ll have someone with breathtaking looks to admire about if work gets boring.

Since it’s a Monday, the arcade is not crowded. Meaning that I’d have a lot more free time. I decide to do the homework that I have for the holidays. All I can think about is completing it all so that I can focus on work and get money.

Money. That is all I care about honestly.

However, my eyes lifted off my math paper to meet the eyes of him. The guy that almost beat my score. This is the second time I’m seeing him since he didn’t come by for a week after the huge uproar he brought to the arcade.

Our eyes only met for a split second before he walks by. My eyes are still on him, watching his back. His extremely good looking face still amazes me nonetheless. He didn’t play the DDR machine, and instead went to the motorcycle one. He stayed there for quite some time actually. He didn’t play other games.

I continue to do my homework. Just when I’m going to place my pen on the paper, I hear the sound of the DDR machine. I lifted my head up again, seeing him standing on the plate. He picked the same song, same difficulty. Is he going to try again?

The music starts and he starts moving his feet. I’m still amazed by him. It felt like I was watching him play for the first time. It’s shocking how I’ve never seen someone this good come by the arcade ever. It felt refreshing in a way. He felt like a competitor almost. He gets me anxious when I see him play.

The music finally ends. I wait for the score. The moment I did, my pen drops. My fingers releasing its grip on it as my eyes widen and blinked rapidly.

He jumps on the plate happily, seeing the score as his username goes up the rank and tops mine. He ran a hand through his hair flawlessly. How is he still looking so good after playing that intensely? I have mixed feelings about this.

I start to grow furious. The title I’ve been holding on to for so long suddenly got snatched away. Now that— just set off the competitive side of me. He’s definitely a challenge, an opponent. No doubt in that. I didn’t need to watch him play any more to know that.

He jumps off the plate, shaking one leg recklessly and did the same to the other. He turns his head back, seeing his username as the top ranked.

LDH. I’ll have to take note of that username

Before he left, his eyes scans across the arcade. His eyes meets mine and we made eye contact again. He lets out a small smile. A very small and effortless one. He looks extremely proud of himself, almost arrogant in fact. I’m pissed at him but I couldn’t get the fact that he’s good looking out of my mind.

Well, that settles it. I’m going to get my title back the moment I end my shift.

Later that night, the moment my shift ended, to be honest it didn’t exactly matter since my boss would only come by an hour later, I immediately went to the DDR machine, scanned my card and played.

I played vigorously. With immense concentration. My only thought was to keep LDH off my rank. My top rank. I played so seriously that I didn’t even notice Johnny coming in to pick me up.

“Are you mad or something? Letting off steam?” Johnny asks when I finish and wait for my score, almost sounding concern with how I played. “You won.” I let out.

Johnny doesn’t reply, probably taking his time to process what I meant. “I won the bet?!” Johnny finally shouts. My score appears on the screen. Luckily, my rank went back up to the top. Johnny looks at the screen and laughs hysterically, slapping his thighs and clapping.

“It’s that guy, isn’t it?! The handsome dude!” Johnny skips behind me while I went to the back to grab my stuff. I got back to him and run a hand through my hair, taking deep breaths. “I’ll get you your card, damn it.” I suspire in defeat.

“I remember him clearly because of how attractive he is. What a refreshing sight for the town.”

No shit, Sherlock.

Johnny leans down and places a quick friendly peck on my cheek, causing me to furrow my eyebrows and scrunch up my nose in disgust.

“So, how about bubble tea tonight?” I stop in my tracks, sharply turning a full forty five degrees to Johnny. He flinches back and shivers at my sudden move.

“Bubble tea? I thought I won’t be getting any.” I say with suspicion filling my tone, a raised brow as well as narrowed eyes. Johnny chuckles and shakes his head, bringing a hand out to pat my head.

“I said I’d treat you to all the bubble tea you want for three months. But I didn’t say I won’t treat you if you lost the bet.” Johnny replies casually.

I grin widely and link my arm around his. “Let’s skip our way to the car, shall we?” Johnny could only laugh.

We bought our bubble tea and decided to just sit on the roadside in front of the store. The two of us stare into the night sky, comfortable silence filled the air.

“Hey.” Johnny suddenly lets out. I bring my head down to look at him. “Aren’t you curious to find out who LDH is?”

I raise a brow in confusion. “I already know him? His looks make him unforgettable.” I say, swirling my drink around.

“No, idiot. I meant his name. LDH must be his nickname or initials.”

I look up and start to think about it. Johnny waits silently for my answer, hearing him sipping on his drink and chewing on the pearls. “Mm I can’t think of a korean name who’s initials are LDH.” I reply back

“I don’t know. I’ll have to get to know him soon if he’s going to come back.” I let out.

“Maybe he’ll see that I topped him.” I mutter with a light shrug.

And of course, he did. He comes back the next day and goes to the DDR machine. His eyes are stuck to the screen. I assume he’s surprised and confused as to how his rank dropped back down to second place in the span of one night.

He jerks his head to the side and take no hesitation to scan his card. Wanting to be the first again. You would think I am surprise to find out that he scored higher than me, but I wasn’t. I knew he was capable, and a strong competitor.

Once again I had to play after my shift to claim back my rank. And after that day, it got hectic. He would come by everyday and see that I’ve been ranked first. And he’ll have to play again. It went back and forth. Everyday it felt as though I was competing with him. And he never seems to give up either.

Over the days, people would come by and have looks of confusion, question marks floating around them as they wonder why KSY and LDH keep switching ranks every single day.

There was no end to this. It feels like I’ve been doing it for months (though it has only been three weeks). Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t tired of playing DDR. I’m just annoyed at the guy who keeps wanting to steal my rank.

He’s without a doubt the first person that has ever shaken me off my calm pride.

Haechan and Jaemin decides to have a lunch date with Jaemin’s brother, Mark. The three eat happily, talking about how each of their lives are going.

“What have you been doing? It’s your school holidays, isn’t it?” Mark asks Haechan, scraping off every last bit of food on his plate.

“I’ve just been going to the arcade.” Haechan replies simply. Jaemin suddenly slams his hand in front of Mark, making him flinch in shock as it seems like Jeno wants to tell Mark something.

“I saw him play DDR. He was amazing! He even beat the top ranker who apparently hasn’t had anyone beaten them for two years!” Jaemin exclaims. Mark gapes his mouth open in shock as a wide smile appears on his lips.

Mark reaches his hand out to pat Haechan on the side of his arm. “Those dance lessons seem to pay off, huh?”

Haechan nods happily, but his expression soon changes to a weird one that Jaemin and Mark couldn’t make out. “But you know...” Haechan starts.

“Every single day I come by, I always find my rank going back to second. I kid you not the top scorer that I beat always comes back to play and rank first. It’s tiring how I have to constantly play to beat them.” Haechan complains, scratching his head and ruffling his hair.

“Look at you being all furious because of your competitive ass.” Jaemin teases. Haechan could only throw him a death glare.

“Maybe they come by everyday too? I mean of course they would want to keep their position as the best one at DDR.” Mark shrugs. He picks up his drink, wanting to take a sip but realises that he already finished it and went to place it back down on the table with a slight frown.

“How?! I come by everyday but I see no regulars there!” Haechan shouts softly, he would have been screaming if he’s not in a restaurant right now.

“I agree. I mean I don’t go there often but whenever I do I don’t see anyone that goes there everyday like Haechan.” Jaemin adds.

“It’s like it changes overnight!”

The table grows silent. Haechan’s eyes were specifically on Mark, wanting to see his reaction to this. Mark leans in, glancing down at the table before meeting Haechan’s eyes. “I’d say you just stay there the whole day and wait for this KSY to play.”

A line appears in between Haechan’s brows as his forehead creases, looking skeptical. “You want me to stay there from the time they open to when they close?! Mark that’s like ten hours.” Haechan shakes his head and waves a lazy hand to Mark.

“It’s not a bad idea. You don’t know when KSY comes so the only way you can know is if you stay the whole time.” Jaemin adds.

“You go there everyday. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Haechan sighs and looks down on his empty plate. If he’s going to settle this once and for all with KSY, he’ll have to meet him at some point. He guess that this was the only way.

“It’s worth the shot.”

Unfortunately, I had to work the whole shift from morning till night today. But it didn’t really matter to me, since I know I’ll be seeing LDH again today.

To my surprise, he’s the first one here. And I just opened the arcade an hour ago. I couldn’t help but wonder who would come this early. Usually people would start coming in at least three hour after it opens.

His hair looked messy, yet it’s able to frame his face perfectly. His features still effortlessly beautiful despite wearing a baggy sweater and sweatpants.

He goes to play other games. He’s been playing for two hours now before leaving the arcade. I assume he left completely but he comes back with a McDonald takeaway, bringing it to the lounge area and eating breakfast there.

I found it extremely suspicious. I have never seen anyone acting like this in arcade before. Was it some kind of challenge? To stay in the arcade the whole time?

Hours went by, I did my work as usual. He’s still here. Sometimes he would be playing, and sometimes he would be in the lounge area. What surprised me the most is that he’s constantly looking at the DDR machine. His eyes immediately went there the moment someone stood on the plate. It looks like he’s keeping track of who’s going there. And I can only wonder why the whole day.

It’s now closing hours. My colleagues and I are cleaning our assigned areas and doing our jobs. I make my way to the lounge area.

I open the door and his eyes instantly went off his phone and to mine. “We’re closing now. You should get going.”

His lips form a thin line. Again he moves his head aside, looking at the DDR machine. I turn my head back, acting as if I didn’t know what he’s looking at. “You’ve been here the whole day. Care to tell me why?” I ask, going to the trashcan in the corner and taking out the plastic bag.

“Uh no reason. I’ll leave.” He simply say, rising from the couch and walking past me.

“Why didn’t they come today...?” I hear him mutter as he scratches his head. He leaves the lounge area. I look back, watching him walk out the arcade.

My lips purse into a thin line as I try to make out what he said to himself? Was he waiting for someone? He was looking at the DDR machine the whole day.

As I walk out to throw away the trash, I didn’t take me long to figure out why. “Was he looking for me?” I ask to myself. A wide smirk appears on my lips absentmindedly as I giggle softly, walking back to the arcade and seeing Johnny waiting for me by the counter.

“You’ll never guess what happened today.”

I see Johnny holding my bag in his hand. I assume he went to the back and took it for me. He hands it to me as we walk out of the arcade. “What happened?” Johnny asks curiously.

“Handsome dude was in the arcade the whole day.” I answer, brushing away strands of hair from my forehead. “The whole day?! Since you opened?”

I nod instantly. Johnny looks up to the sky with a weird face. “I mean I know he has the lounge area but being there for ten hours?”

I let out a chuckle. “He eats breakfast, lunch and dinner there too.”

“Why would he do that though? Does he not have a life?” That’s when my wide smirk appears again. Johnny gives a suspicious look to my reaction.

“He was looking for KSY.” Johnny’s mouth gapes open, laughing hysterically after a moment of just staring at me in disbelief. “Are you serious?! He waited all day and he doesn’t even know that it’s you!” The two of us laugh for a whole minute, finding it funny and unbelievable.

“I feel bad though. He didn’t even play DDR today.” I comment. “Won’t be surprised if he comes back today and stays there again.”

“You’re so mean if you just let him wait and not find out that it’s you.” Johnny shoves a hand in his pocket.

I bob my shoulders and shrug. “We’ll see how long he can hold up then.”

The next day, he comes back again. He did the same routine. Getting meals and staying in the lounge area. He did play some games, but his attention was solely on the DDR machine. I don’t know how he’s not sick of doing this since it’s been a week now. Though I find it funny at first, I started to feel bad for him.

“Are you perhaps waiting for someone?” I ask, wanting to tease him a little as I walk in the lounge room. His body slumps into the soft couch. He grabs a pillow from behind and hugs it tight.

“No shit I’ve been waiting for a week for this person to show up.” He mumbles in frustration. Letting out a soft chuckle, I fold my arms and shifted my weight onto one leg.

“Is he or she a regular like you?”

His eyes slowly lifts off from the pillow and to me, going from the bottom up before meeting my eyes and glaring. “I guess? I don’t know. They keep getting back their rank in DDR after I take it. It’s driving me insane.”

I laugh, quickly covering it by looking behind and changing my expression back to a composed one. “What’s your name?” He raises a brow at my sudden question. “Lee Donghyuck.”

“Or just Haechan.”

My mouth opens slightly as I let out a soft “Ah...” while nodding my head. Beautiful name for a beautiful face. At least now I know what his initials meant. “I feel bad so it looks like I have to tell you.”

“Tell me what...?” I start walking closer to the couch, bending down to meet his eye level. He looks at me suspiciously with his blank expression.

“KSY is me.” I let out, grinning widely.

Haechy tilts his head to the side, his eyes looking at me up and down as he blinks rapidly and scoffs in disbelief. “There’s no way.” He runs a hand down his face and glances to the side constantly. I puts a finger in front of me, moving it up and down. “You? A worker? KSY?!”

I nod, bringing all my hair down to one shoulder. I open the door, turning my head to Haechan and jerking my head to the side. “Aren’t you going out?” I couldn’t help but think about how funny his face looks right now.

The two of us stare at each other for at least fifteen seconds before Haechan shakes his head vigorously and stands up, dashing past me and out of the room. I turn back to look at it one last time before switching off the lights and leaving as well.

“So you’re KSY? The annoying one that keeps ranking first after I beat you?!” Haechan exclaims. I laugh, clapping my hands and nodding happily. Jaemin runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this.”

“Of course you won’t. Who would’ve thought it’s a worker?” I lift my shoulders up and give a cheeky smile. Haechan folds his arms as he stands in front of me. “I don’t know if I’m currently mad or surprised.”

“I can confirm it’s both.” I say with confidence. Since Johnny’s busy tonight, I unfortunately have to go home alone.

“Let’s battle.” Haechan suddenly announces with a smug and arrogant look on his face. I scoff. “You should really just be happy you’re second. You know I’ll just take back the first ranking instantly after you beat it.” I satire.

Haechan frowns and lifts a finger in front of me, waving it in my face while he shakes his head. “The one who wins the battle gets to claim the top for life. We’ll settle it once and for all.”

I nod my head slowly while I grab my things and head out. For some reason he’s following me. “Hello? I need an answer.” Haechan lets out, running up and walking beside me. I turn my head and give him an unimpressed smile. “Fine then. Though I can only play once my shift ends so.”

Haechan claps his hands once and shouts, making me flinch back slightly at his loud voice. “So that’s why it keeps changing overnight!”

I brought a palm to my forehead. “Duh.” I deadpan.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” Haechan walks in front of me, walking backwards while he gives a cheeky winks and runs off.

I scoff and raise an eyebrow as I watch him running out of the mall. I shove my hands in my pockets and tilt my head. He’s interesting.

“Oi! You guys won’t belive what I just found out!” Haechan burts into the dorms, dashing to the living room where all the members gathered.

“What now, Haechan?” Chenle asks sarcastically, slamming a card down on the table. “It’s your turn Renjun.” The room grows silent as Renjun squints his eyes while trying to find a card. “Plus four for you, Jeno!”

Haechan steals a seat from Jeno, pushing him off to the side and slamming both hands palms down on the table. All heads instantly turning to Haechan. “Are you guys seriously playing Uno without me?!” He places a hand on his chest and gasps with a sarcastic shocking look.

“Jaemin told us that you’re going to be at the arcade the whole day so we were having fun by ourselves.” Jeno adds, pushing Haechan away slightly so that he’ll have some space at the table.

“Anyways! I finally found out who KSY is!”

Everyone lets out a sigh in unison. Haechan narrows his eyes at his members’ weird reaction. “It’s been a week. That took you long.” Jisung replies.

“Do you guys want to guess who?” A wide smile appears on Haechan’s lips as he waits for his friends. “A guy with strong arms like Jeno?” Jaemin asks back, resting his elbow on Jeno’s shoulder while he leans in close to Jeno’s face. Jeno turns his head to Jaemin and smiles softly before roughly throwing his elbow off.

Haechan shakes his head vigorously. “A nerd?” Renjun guesses, bobbing his shoulders. Heachan gives the same answer.

“Just tell us already, idiot!” Chenle reaches his hand out to smack Haechan in the head lightly. Haechan lets out a loud ‘tsk’. “It’s a girl. And she’s working at the arcade.”

The room grows silent once again. Some had their eyes widen with opened mouth while the rest had a blank expression that Haechan assumes to be their ‘disbelief faces’.

“You serious? A girl?” Jisung’s the first to speak, a hand moving up slowly to cover his mouth. Haechan nods. “Can you believe a girl can have that much strength to be ranked first?!” Haechan exclaims.

“Well that was unexpected.” Jeno adds. Renjun replies with a similar comment as well. “There’s more!”

No one replies, urging Haechan to continue. “I’m going to have a battle with her tomorrow night!” This time, everyone’s faces become mors shocked than before. “Oh my God we should all go!” Jaemin smiles widely while clapping his hands.

“I’m so down to see Haechan get wrecked by a girl.” Chenle says with a slight smirk. Haechan stands up and walks to him, sitting down next to him to give a smack on the head, making Chenle wince due to the force.

“You don’t know that. He’s been switching the first place ranking with her for so long. Anything can happen.” Jeno retorts lazily with a shrug. “Thank you for the nice word of encouragement, Jeno.”

“I said anything can happen. You still have the chance of losing.” Jeno adds on carelessly, causing the group to burst out laughing. Haechan rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Just follow me to the arcade tomorrow.”

Everyones nods their heads, looking over at Haechan. He smiles widely and claps his hand once. “Alright it’s settled. Now let’s play some Uno.” Haechan beats his hand on the table.

Renjun gathers up all the card and starts shuffling them.

Before my shift starts, I went to play a few rounds of DDR machine to warm my legs up for the game I’ll have with Haechan tonight. I’m not sure if I’m excited to be battling against such a handsome guy or be scared at the fact that he can actually beat me. I know I won’t be able to play anymore so this morning’s my only chance to prepare.

I texted Johnny during lunch, telling him about the unexpected battle i’ll be having. He replies me instantly with a, I’ll be there by seven! Can’t wait to watch you! I chuckle at his reply and continued to work till evening.

It’s seven now and as promised, Johnny shows up from work. “You ready?” Johnny asks.

I crack my neck swiftly and nod my head. “Ready to beat Lee Donghyuck.”

“So that’s his name?” Johnny asks again, looking slightly surprised. I frown and shrug my shoulders. “Apparently so.”

Johnny and I had our eyes on the DDR machine, no words being exchanged for about three minutes. “What time is he coming though?” Johnny turns question me.

“I’m not sure. He told me he’ll be here at night.” I reply simply, resting my chin on the palm of my hand. Johnny copies my posture as the two of us allow time to pass by with talking about anything.

Johnny eyes suddenly widen. So wide that it looks scary to me, as his finger point to the back of me. I turn around to the entrance. I see Haechan walking in, though I feel slightly intimidated with who he brought in. They looked like a gang or something.

Haechan raises a hand and waves at me. I bowed my head slightly in response. All of them head to where Johnny and I were at.

“So this is her?” One of them ask with a skeptical brow. Haechan nods bringing a hand up to motion go me. “Yeah! She’s... Uh sorry I didn’t get your name last time.” Haechan stutters.

“Oh it’s _____” I reply with a soft smile. All of them nod their heads. “When we starting? I wanna watch you and Haechan!” The small figured one asks with excitement filling his tone.

“Should go warm up first. She’ll smash you if you don’t.” Johnny brags out, placing his elbow on my shoulder and using my height as a leaning device for him. “He scares me. Look he’s so tall.” The same guy voices out, pointing to Johnny.

Johnny gasps, overreacting. “Told you that you look intimidating. You’re too tall.” I say, forcefully shoving his elbow off me. “Not my fault!” Johnny whines. Haechan nods his head and goes to the DDR machine, his friends following behind him.

Johnny and I were still behind the counter, so comfortable in our seats that we’ll practically whine if we’re dragged off. We both had our serious faces on in a way to intimidate them. But that’s a fail since everyone had their eyes on Haechan as he scans his card and picks a song.

“Saving your energy?!” I shout across to them, noticing that he picked a relatively simple song at medium difficulty. Haechan turns around and smirks widely. Not sure whether to find that hot or annoying. “Of course.” Haechan shouts back, a chuckle appearing slightly after.

I wasn’t actually paying attention to him play. My eyes are glued to my phone screen while I scroll through Twitter to catch up on the drama I’ve missed. Time felt like it flew by in a second when Haechan call up my name. I tilt my head up, seeing him motioning one hand up that signaled me to go there. I place my phone screen down on the counter and make my way to the DDR machine, with Johnny following behind me and joining Haechan’s group of friends that’s surrounding the plate.

“Song?” Haechan asks. I jerk my head to the side, leaning back and placing my hands on the handle behind me. “Your pick.” I reply casually. Haechan chuckles and starts browsing through, picking a song in no time, difficulty level on high and setting the game to battle mode.

The screen starts showing the countdown in both screens. Haechan and I lowered our bodies in a stance position as the numbers start going down from ten.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

“Go!” Everyone shouts in unison.

The amount of concentration I had in this game shocked me. The last time I put in this much effort into something was my finals this year. I didn’t bother looking at Haechan since I’m focusing on myself only, making sure my feet were in sync and I’m getting a ‘Super perfect’ every time.

Everyone’s silent, only the music filling the entire arcade. The song finally ends, Haechan and I desperately gasping for air while the rest gives up an applause. Our heads shot up to the screen, seeing the numbers on both screens increasing rapidly.

“Woah!” Johnny shouts. My eyes widen, making sure I’m seeing the score correctly. I immediately jump happily and off the plate, going to Johnny and slapping his chest with my arms. “I won!”

Haechan and his group of friends are currently silent, with Haechan’s heavy breathing to be the only noise surrounding them. Disappointing sighs and groans came soon after.

“Get off the district of this town!” I burst at them mockingly with a devil-like laughter. Haechan runs a hand through his locks, shaking his head vigorously and glancing upwards before turning to me.

“You win.” Haechan mumbles in defeat. I giggle and walk over to him, lightly punching the side of his arm. “You did well.” I reassure Haechan. He suspires once again. “I don’t owe you anything then?”

“Oh right we didn’t discuss the prize!”

I fold my arms and look up, proceeding to think. “Treat me a meal. And bubble tea. For three months.” I cock up both eyebrows with an evil smirk. Haechan scoffs, refusing to believe that’s my request. “I mean I did make a bet with Johnny and since I lost that I am now going to take advantage of this situation.” I lean back slightly with one shoulder down.

“Fine.”

I got his number and we made a decision of meeting at the bus stop today. I’m the first here, looking down at my phone while I scroll down my playlist to find a song to play. It wasn’t even twenty seconds in till a finger taps on my shoulder.

I frown slightly, not being able to listen to my favourite song but quickly smile as I see Haechan taking a seat beside me. “Where we headed?” I ask curiously. I did say to me out for a meal, but he didn’t specify where. “Are you okay with travelling on the bus for about an hour?” Haechan questions me back.

I shrug my shoulders, leaning back against the glass behind the seat. “I love long bus rides.” Haechan nods his head and grins. “Good. I have a perfect place.”

“Aren’t going to kidnap me are you?” Haechan chuckles at my skepticism. “Want me to do that?” I furrow my eyebrows, laughing softly after and shaking my head.

A few minutes of silence passes by. I hate the awkwardness that filled the gap between us. Luckily, Haechan stands up suddenly, signaling that the bus has arrived.

We got in and took a random spot. Haechan allows me to sit inside, motioning his hand out to the seat. So he’s good looking and a gentleman? Shit.

“You’re seriously really good at DDR.” Haechan suddenly speaks up. I pucker my lips. “Been playing ever since I worked at the arcade. Which was two years ago.”

Haechan clicks his tongue. “I’m guessing you like music a lot?” I nod in reply. “Very. It’s like my emotional support for when I sometimes feel like jamming my head into the wall.” Haechan laughs loudly at my comment, surprised at my unique, but also not, humor.

“I love music, too. I actually sing.” I widen my eyes at his sentence. Haechan chuckles for a quick moment. “You won’t hear it, unfortunately. I only sing for my friends.” I let out a pout, punching him in the chest gently. “Oh come on. I beat you at DDR that day. Why not let me listen to you as a bonus?” I wink at him playfully. Haechan huffs. “When we get there, then.” He shrugs. I giggle and look out the window. Once again silence overtook us.

Haechan and I wear our earpieces at the same time, proceeding to look down at our phone and playing a song. My eyes were looking out the window, admiring the plain view of the town. I wasn’t sure how much time has passed, but I know for a fact that I went through a lot of my songs in my playlist already.

Suddenly, a beach comes into view. I see the sand and the sky, to make things better it’s currently sunset hour. Beautiful colour and shades from red to yellow and even pink filling the sky, matching the vibe of the beach perfectly.

Haechan taps in my shoulder and jerks his head to the side, telling me this is our stop. The two of us got down and remove our earpieces, the bus driving past us and the view returning back. “We’re eating by the beach?!” I question Haechan.

He smiles softly. I look down at his outfit. His shorts and button up shirt suiting the location perfectly, along with his hair that framed his face and eventuates his features beautifully.

“Come on.” Haechan grabs my wrist and drags me off, having me to run while he picks up the speed. I laugh, somewhat happy that he brought me here.

Haechan slows down, his hand still on my wrist as we end up in front of an open restaurant. There isn’t any inside, only the kitchen and serving area being hidden by walls. The place is beautiful. It was fairy lights hanging over the wooden ceiling that was bare to allow us to see the night sky, colourful wooden planks as the floor and wooden chairs and tables. There’s also swings and hammocks too. It’s the whole vibe of the place that’s bringing me so much happiness.

I guess it’s too obvious when I feel Haechan swinging an arm around my shoulders. “Already liking it I see.” He leans down to whisper to me. His voice sounded normal but it sent shivers down my spine and his voice echoed in my head while he leads me to a seat.

I sit down while he takes the seat opposite mine. He leans forward against the table, his elbows resting on his casually. “Trust me, the food here is great.” Haechan speaks. “The best I’ve had so far.” He adds, bringing a hand up and slicing it in the air, sticking his tongue out slightly.

I simply smile and nod, looking around the place after as I still couldn’t believe that I’m here. It’s been so long since I’ve been in such an atmosphere so it really did an impact on me. “Are you like popular in the DDR realm?” I suddenly ask, my head shooting down to him. Heachan lifts the side of his lips ever so slightly. “I mean in a few towns where I took over all the arcade mall.”

“Talented indeed.”

We ordered our food and ate. Surprisingly, we were able to talk a lot. We didn’t have an exact topic. We just speak whatever came to our mind. Haechan really did keep up the conversation well and it wasn’t hard to talk to him at all. I liked it. Quite a lot actually.

I only thought of eating and going home. But now, I just can’t pass up the chance of just sitting by the beach. And that’s what we did. We borrowed a matt from the restaurant and sat on it while looking out into the scenery ahead of us.

It got windy as the night settles in, the cold breeze passing by and making contact with my skin that made me feel at ease almost instantly. “You do this often? Going to the beach?” I whisper, hugging my knees into my chest and laying my chin on one knee. I tilt my head to the side.

“I used to. Until I got busy with life and shit.” Haechan whispers back. I couldn’t help but keep my eyes on him. The way his hair flows and got messy due to the wind, his side profile looking as perfect as I first saw it. And the night sky that served as a background for him to shine.

“Why not we have a battle once a week? Or whenever you’re free. Whoever loses treats the other to a mea at the same restaurant.” I suggest. Though my hidden agenda to it was so that I could see Haechan more often.

“I think that’ll be too tiring. Let’s just come here whenever we’re free.” Haechan retorts back, placing his hands behind him and leaning backwards. “We can hang out more.” Did he really just read my mind or something?

I let out a calming sigh, taking a moment to breathe in the sea air and watching the small waves come to shore, with the water reflecting the light of the night.

“I’d love that.”

Ever since then, I went out with Haechan more often. Going to the same beach, same restaurant and spending time together by the beach, doing anything basically. Though as time passed and we were getting more busy with our separate lives, we never fail to exclude one day from our week just to be with each other.

Our relationship eventually escalated. We naturally started holding hands and giving each other light pecks on the lips, cheeks or forehead. His subtle actions always sending a shock through my body, but it soothed me at the same time as well. My feelings for him bloomed more over time. And Haechan reciprocated it in a heartbeat.

Today was no different. We’re at the beach yet again. But this time, our nosy friends decided to come along.

We are huddled together, everyone relaxing as we watch the scenery. Despite it being the afternoon, the sky, sea and sand is still as beautiful. We spent the day playing a lot of games. Card games, hand games, even burning bridges. We really did everything. And I loved every second of it, since I had Haechan sitting beside me.

“You guys want anything? We should get more drinks.” I say, pointing to the plastic bag that was filled with empty canned drinks and bottles. Everyone nods their head in unison. I smile happily and stand up, wiping the excess sand on my bottom while reaching out to grab the plastic bag.

“Haechan, follow me.” He looks up to me. We had the same thought. Wanting to be alone together. “What am I, a servant for these idiots?” He jokes, though I know he’ll follow me regardless. “Idiots?! Look at you dumbass!” Chenle retorts,

The groups laughs, shaking their heads. Haechan throws them a death glare and immediately sent the group into silence as they see his intimidating expression. He stands up and walks over to me. “Text what you guys want.” I wave my phone up in the air before leaving to the restaurant with Haechan.

“Why did they have to come today? I wanted to be alone with you.” Haechan whines after checking if we’re out of our friends’ sight.

Haechan pulls me close by the waist. I laugh and place my hands on the side of his arms. “We’ve been doing that for so long. They lighten the mood up.”

Haechan frowns but gives a soft peck on the crown of my head. My phone dings. I lifted it to check and see that Mark sent me a list of their wanted drinks. Haechan still had his arm around my waist as he keep me close from the time we ordered to the time we were walking back, putting his arm down till the last second when our friends come into our view.

When we got there and take our seats, the group was oddly silent. All eyes were on us, with suspicious expression on their faces.

“So when are you going to tell us you’re dating?” Jaemin cocks up a brow while everyone folds their arms in unison.

I turn to Haechan, who looks at me as well before looking back to the front. “Huh..?” I say, acting taken aback.

“Don’t lie! I saw you two kissing while I went to the toilet!” Renjun exposes. I scrunch up my face and pout.

Haechan rolls his eyes and leans back. “I thought it was pretty obviously since I ditched a lot of my plans with you guys.” Haechan replies smugly.

“He got stolen by _____ from us!” Jisung huffs out. Haechan and I burst out laughing hysterically.

“He’s better taken away, though.” Jeno adds. Haechan lets out a loud ‘tsk’.

I can only blush and laugh loudly as I watch Haechan beating up Jeno for his comment. Who would’ve thought it be here with a guy when we bonded over a DDR game?

[anonthenullifier]

An Awakening

Vision learns the truth of his life prior to Westview which leads to an honest conversation with Wanda.

Ao3 link

There is nothingness and then there is a calliope, it’s jaunty little ditty shocking his mind enough that Vision’s eyes snap open. Blades of grass tickle his cheek and an aura of flashing lights draws him up, palms pressed firmly onto the ground as he hoists himself up into a seated position. His body aches, a faint echo in his mind of being violently torn apart, but it is a feeling that fades the faster he thinks about it. Since it seems important, he tries to move his mind away, hoping that if he doesn’t explicitly focus on it that it will not be forgotten.

Vision nods, goes to stand up, but finds his legs not responding fully, knees buckling under the weight of a fleeting memory of immense pain. A hand loops under his right bicep, the woman’s other hand coming to rest on his back as she helps him up with an aggrieved, “Why can men never admit when they’re hurt?” The snark behind the comment feels forced, the same underlying terror on her face as all the other residents here.

That’s when he remembers, most of it at least. He was on his own reconnaissance patrol, inching ever more methodically toward the edge of town to see how far Wanda’s influence reached. The horror of his findings, their frozen, crying faces, almost knocks him back to the ground, but luckily the woman’s hands are still there to steady him. “Thank you.”

“Did you go in the funhouse?” It’s not really a question the way her voice falls, more of a statement with a rhetorical uptick at the end. “Heard it’s really disorienting with all the clowns.”

Vision doesn’t recall such an attraction anywhere in Westview but then he looks up, following the still present music in the air, and finds an entire carnival before him. Red and white striped tents tower out of the ground, stalls for food send plumes of greasy smoke into the air, and numerous game stalls are lined up where stuffed animals and blowup hammers hang joyfully from the walls. This is new. What is also new is that there are houses and roads beyond Ellis Avenue, which seems right, as if it was always like that, but there is a niggle of unease that tells him this isn’t true, if only he could access the information that makes him feel that way.

“Oh, um , thank you.” His costume is, at least by his understanding of how Billy and Tommy reacted, not sick by any means. Regardless, he finds his hand moving on its own accord to grip the cape, wanting to feel the object of her jealousy. It feels different, slicker and more aerodynamic than the one Wanda left in the closet. He yanks it a bit farther forward and notes that it is also a much more subdued gold with flecks of crimson in parts. A glance down also confirms that his green and yellow ensemble is gone, replaced by teals and reds, no athletic shorts covering the skin tight ensemble.

This is all wrong.

Vision knows the town never had a circus, nor the rows of houses beyond Ellis, he knows that he was not in this outfit and that everything feels just a bit off.

“Do you want some coffee or a ride back home?” The concern in her voice goes deeper than one would expect, even though she did find him injured on the ground, something more wavers in her words. Vision decides that he needs more answers than questions and, even though he hates taking away people’s autonomy, he reaches towards her temple. “Woah,” the woman swats his hands away, “I have pepper spray.”

“I will not harm you.” Oddly her face softens and she drops the threat, allowing him to send a pulse of golden energy into her head.

The change is instantaneous, the woman’s face becoming far more animated, “Vision?! Oh my God, you’re okay!” This is now the second awakened person to recognize him, to be excited at the prospect that he is there to help. “Oh what the hell!” Vision watches the woman’s hand run along her gaudy canary and ruby diner uniform, one that is common in little run down diners on the highway, a thought that he doesn’t quite know how to substantiate since he doesn’t seem to have a memory of such a stop and yet the knowledge is there. As she inspects her clothes, grunting in disbelief and irritation built into every movement, she confuses him further, “I’m an astrophysicist and this is what I get? So disrespectful.”

Neither Norm nor Agnes responded in such a...laid back way to be awakened, both in immeasurable pain that this woman seems to show no signs of. “Miss, are you okay?”

“Doctor, not Miss.”

“My apologies.”

She turns a bright, closed lip smile towards him, reaching out her hand as she says, “I’m Darcy.”

He takes the proffered hand and gives it a polite shake. Even though it is clearly unnecessary he adds, “And I’m Vision.” What he says next is a bit of a surprise to him, mainly because he doesn’t feel like he has a basis for the assumption that she will know the answer, but for some reason he has full faith she can help him, that she wants to help him. “Who am I? What,” he surveys the carnival around him, “what is happening here?”

“Straight to the big questions.” It is not derisively or caustically stated, in fact there is far more affection than one would expect from a stranger. Darcy glances around, nervous for the first time, “I’ll try to be quick, I’m sure your wife’ll be here soon.” This fear is not new, sadly, the same insinuation made by Norm about Wanda’s involvement. “Let’s see, you’re Vision, obviously,” a small, self conscious chuckle goes along with the statement. “You’re an Avenger,” luckily, she senses his desire for more, quickly adding, “group of super powered people, well, not all of them have super powers, some just have really amazing tech, but anyway you’re a team that fights bad guys and saves the universe.”

“Wanda and myself, we were-“

“Yep, joined at the same time and then fell in love, really cute.”

This confirms what Agnes said, which suggests that perhaps her other words were true as well. “Am I...dead?” All joy leeches from Darcy’s face, a deflated nod going along with the tightening of her lips. “How?”

Darcy looks around again and Vision can’t help but join her in the action, can’t help but feel a little bit nervous about who doesn’t want him to know this. “Shortened version - big purple angry grape named Thanos was collecting all the infinity stones, this includes the Mindstone,” Vision’s fingers rise up to brush the gem. “Wanda had to kill you to try and stop him.”

“She killed me?”

Quickly context is added, “Only because you,” she levels a finger at his chest to emphasize his role and take blame off his wife, “insisted she do it.”

None of what she says makes sense. “Why would I do that?”

The next statement is said in a way that typically is coupled with a playful fist against the shoulder that leads into a jovial shove. “Being all self-sacrificial’s kinda your thing. Which is super noble, don’t get me wrong, but a bit rough on the people around you, like asking them to kill you for the greater good.”

Which is a fair point and one he will need to cogitate on at a later time, “Why did Wanda, specifically, have to kill me?”

“Oh because she was the only one strong enough to destroy the Mindstone.”

A logical assessment that he can easily believe his former self to have made. “Was she successful?”

Darcy’s voice quiets somewhat, a slight tremble in her words, “She was. But then Thanos reversed time, brought you back, and murdered you right in front of her.”

Suddenly his worldview shifts, new meaning and understanding emerging as to some of Wanda’s actions and her strong reaction to his accusations the other night. Despite this dawning of understanding, there is still a major question he feels hasn’t been answered. “But then how are we here? How am I,” he falters on the next word, as early as this evening not thinking it was something that could be false, “alive?”

“That’s the million dollar question. No one knows.” A high pitched whizzing vibrates in the air, punctuated by calls of Vision! “I gotta go,” she begins to walk away, but turns back with an anger not yet present in her words, “Quick FYI, if you meet a guy named Hayward, don’t trust him, he’s a dick.”

“I um, will not, thank you.”

She starts to leave again and then stops, “Also, we don’t have proof it’s all Wanda. Food for thought.”

Vision appreciates the comment, “Thank you.” It is when she actually walks away that he is the one that has a realization of not re-invoking whatever trance the people of the town are in. “Darcy!” She turns expectedly towards him as he approaches with his hands out and ready to take the pain from her, except she swats his hands away, yet again.

“Stop it, I’m a better ally awake.”

Based on the prior two people he has spoken to in their awakened state, this seems a poor choice for her. “Does it not hurt?”

“I mean, yeah, feels like I went on a tequila bender last night and haven’t had water in weeks.” How she remains so lighthearted is beyond him, but he admires it immensely, “but I can’t help you if I’ve forgotten.”

Though he isn’t sure it is in her best interest to remain in such a state, the idea of a confidant is appealing. “Very well.”

Seconds after she walks away, blue streaks materialize around Vision, both his sons and his wife appearing suddenly in front of him. This is unusual but he doesn’t get a chance to inquire about their speedy entrance, Billy rushing towards him first with a relieved, “Dad!” Vision catches him, using the momentum of his son’s leap to lift him and hold him close, Billy’s arm wrapping protectively around Vision’s neck. Tommy follows shortly after, his run far more powerful as he slams into Vision’s torso with a tight hug.

It is Wanda who hesitates, her eyes faintly glowing red, a deep, concerned frown on her lips. “Vizh,” her voice cracks and his heart breaks at the pain she tries so valiantly to mask. Vision manages to get one of his hands free enough to motion Wanda closer. She accepts the offer, one arm winding around his waist and the other laying on Tommy’s shoulders.

They have only been home for three hours and yet this is the tenth Wanda has found herself standing in the doorway, hand propped along the wooden frame. In the room Vision lies in bed, eyes closed and resting, Billy is wrapped around him, his arm thrown across his father’s chest and head buried just under the vibranium dot of Vision’s chin, and Tommy is curled snuggly into Vision’s other side. The boys are still in their costumes, Billy’s cape sprawled behind him on their mattress and Tommy’s now flat hair looking a bit crusty from the spray dye. It’s an idyllic scene and yet Wanda fights back tears, shoving the drops away from her eyes as if they are an enemy that needs to be thwarted.

She almost lost Vision...again. The boys almost lost their father at ten years old, an age for which grief is overwhelming and confusing, can shape a life forever, or so she intimately knows.

Reluctantly her body pulls away from the door, arms crossing over her chest as she walks back downstairs, not once considering peeking in on her brother in the guest room. That is a problem she is still trying to figure out, the man a stranger, an antagonist, but with her brother’s name. There are too many inconsistencies in his behavior, too many contradictions in his words, half of them true to her brother and the other far too knowing of events that occurred after his death. Unsurprisingly he and Vision clash, a thought that briefly makes her mouth perk up, always having a belief that if her brother lived he would have begrudgingly accepted her relationship while also making it his personal duty to make jabs at Vision, who Wanda always knew would take it with a silent dignity that was then removed late at night when he’d insist on lengthy conversations with her to figure out the insults. That’s what life was supposed to be. What life is now, technically.

The gurgle of water washes away these thoughts, her focus now solely on filling the kettle and getting it on a burner to boil. Except the distraction is short lived as she sits down at the kitchen table to wait, fingers interwoven and glowing faintly of the residual scarlet energy she had to use tonight. Wanda fixates on her fingers, bending and straightening them, unsure how she knew what to do or even had the power to expand the town. But that’s not the most troubling incident of the night. No, what pesters at her resolve is a simple thought: Why did Vision want to leave? They have everything here - a house, Billy and Tommy, each other, and the time they always tried so hard to find.

Wanda startles at the creak of the kitchen cabinet, heart still racing as she takes in the curve of Vision’s shoulders and the vibranium band along the back of his head. Silently he makes her a cup of tea, hands moving calmly through the ritual he created, the cup always the same distance from the kettle, bag placed at the bottom with the string hanging out precisely two inches, both hands holding the kettle (one on the handle and one at the base) as a perfect arc of water fills the cup, and finally one and a third spoonfuls of sugar. The sequence completed, Vision walks the cup to the table, placing it gently down with barely a clink from the porcelain. She expects him to sit down across from her, to silently stare for a minute or so before bringing up the town again, reopening the wounds of their last fight because they never actually resolved anything other than to try and act normal around the boys. But he doesn’t, instead he takes her hand, tugging it until she stands, and then he hugs her, engulfing her entire being in his presence. The firmness of his chest and the tinny waft of vibranium are just as soothing as the kisses he peppers along the top of her head, each one more doting than the last. “Vizh,” Wanda reluctantly pulls back a few inches, hand squeezing between their bodies until she can cup his face, “are you…”

“I know,” he kisses her properly now, not like the emotionless peck earlier in the day, this one imbued with all of his love and all of his concern. “I know enough.”

A chill moves through her body, limbs growing rigid and heart almost coming to a complete stop. “What do you mean?”

Vision’s fingers move up to trace lines through her hair, palm coming to rest on her cheek. The surety of his prior statement lessens, mouth sinking lower until it’s a shallow frown. “I know that I am,” it is unlike him to pause like this, to seem to want to avoid a conversation he himself brought up, “that I was dead.”

Her denial is immediate and viscera, “What are you talking about, why would you…” but then his doleful gaze meets hers, the ridges of his synthetic skin bunched together in a show of deep, aching pain, though it is clear from the way he holds her, the way he places a far too gentle kiss to her forehead, as if the action itself might knock her over, that he is more concerned for her than himself, which is the epitome of who he was...who he is. If there is anything she can offer that matches this unerring compassion, it has to be honesty because clearly hiding the truth from him will not stop his incessant march towards the truth. But that is easier to think about than it is to actually commit to doing. Wanda swallows down a sob and fights to keep her voice calm. “You were.” The confirmation is too much, her chest heaving as all the memories rush to the forefront of her mind--her hands erupting in red at the feel of the Mindstone fracturing, at the almost silent I love you , and then having to watch him come back only to die in a far more brutal way.

Strong arms that shouldn’t exist continue to encase her, draw her deeper into the comfort of his embrace, the feel of his fingers running through her hair with the same gentle “Wanda” he always said when soothing her. Deep down she knows it is all a lie, this life, this man, this blissful existence. Because as a Maximoff there is only one constant in life and it is sorrow, biting, empty, unavoidable sorrow. Which begs the question of how, exactly he found out. A question that infuriates her and invokes the well know feeling of being caged in by the inevitability of her life.

Wanda steps out of his arms, trying her best not to show how much pain that simple movement creates, her body screaming to remain against his forever, but selfishly she needs answers more than anything, needs information to help her regain some level of control over her emotions, has to know why he put his family through so much just to find out this awful truth. “Why aren’t you happy here?”

A denial forms quickly, his body taut at the accusation, “I am happy Wanda, how could I not be?”

“Because you left, you...you abandoned us today,” Wanda knows she shouldn’t use the next part in anger or for gain, but she needs her husband to understand the severity of it all. “Did you know Billy can sense you?”

Vision’s “He can?” is hard to read, both concerned and in awe, with something else she can’t quite pinpoint.

“Yes, and his first experience of that was feeling you try to die because we apparently aren’t important enough to stay alive for.” The comment hits as intended, Vision stepping back, horror forming in the spasming muscles of his face as he looks up towards the ceiling, towards where he left their sons. “What are you trying to find out there?”

Vision’s simple, “The truth,” is aggravatingly vague, thankfully, or not depending on how this goes, he clarifies, “There is something wrong in Westview, Wanda. The people are in agony.”

A fed up laugh comes out with her “Aren’t we all?” Only Vision can’t find the humor, the gears in his eyes twisting clockwise and counterclockwise while he stares at her, face ladened with a suffocating sympathy.

He takes a step towards her and she steps back, not missing the way her reaction hurts him. “Wanda, it is not like you to inflict pain on innocent people.”

Since they started this new life, her memories have been hazy, coming in and out of consciousness, enough clarity to understand that whatever is happening in Westview is preferable to outside of it. After tonight, after Pietro’s comment about her dead husband, it’s all there and she realizes that she’s never gotten to say out loud what she did, what Thanos forced her to do, the Avengers too scattered with all that needed to be attended to after his defeat to focus on anyone but themselves. So she squares her shoulders, lifts her head and puts all of her self loathing into her next comment, “If that’s true, then why did I kill you?”

This time when Vision steps towards her she lets him grip her arms, let’s him guide her until her face is pressed into his chest, allowing her to hear the beating of his synthetic heart. “You were only doing what I had asked.”

“Well it wasn’t worth it,” her voice is muffled by the teal sweater he’s wearing, “and I can’t, I can’t forgive myself.”

His arms tighten around her, one hand gripping the fabric of her sweatshirt and the other holding her head to his sternum. “You did nothing wrong. If anyone is to blame-”

It doesn't take a telepath to know what empty words he is about to mutter. Wanda forces herself from his embrace and stares hard into his eyes, “Don’t, Vision, just don’t. It won’t change what happened.”

Reluctantly he accepts it, moving cautiously back to the original topic of their discord, “Is this,” he gestures vaguely around them, “the result of,” it is still hard for him to say, which she appreciates because she can’t say it easily either, “my death?”

“I don’t know,,” this time he seems to accept her ignorance, which allows her a chance to actually consider it more. All she can really recall is the crushing loneliness and the suffocating despair of losing the last person she loved in the world. It’s not a stretch to assume that had something to do with now. “Maybe?” If he knows about his death, she reasons that she might as well tell him the other nightmare she discovered upon her own rebirth, something she’s tried to block out as best she can. “It could also be from finding out some shady government organization was experimenting on your corpse.”

Shock is too gentle a word, hatred a tiny bit too strong for the tone of his voice, “That does not seem like an activity I would condone.”

“It’s the exact opposite of what you requested.” Wanda thinks back to that day, and unlike Vision, pure, unabashed hatred flowed through her veins when she received an anonymous tip. Hatred at S.W.O.R.D, at the scientists going against Vision’s will, hatred at the world for being so awful, and hatred at her teammates who let it happen, who didn’t seem to consider that agencies like that lie, that they would never want the body only for “safe-keeping.” All Vision wanted was a burial and she was determined to provide him that, to allow herself the closure she needed. So she broke in, sickened at the way they’d disassembled him and had separate monitors attached to his limbs and head. “I broke in,” Vision holds his breath as she talks, “I took you from them and all I remember is flying away. I was going to bury you in the forest, like you wanted.” That’s where her memory stops and where Westview begins. “And then we were driving to our house after getting married.” Finally he releases his breath with a shuddering gasp. “That’s all I remember, you have to believe me that I have no idea what’s going on.” Unlike the other night, he wordlessly accepts her ignorance, mind likely still reeling from the revelations she shared. It is this lack of judgment that emboldens her to say what’s been swirling through her mind whenever the knowledge of reality sets in, a thought that should carry with it guilt but she can’t muster up guilt when she finally has what she has been denied over and over again. “But I’d be lying if I tried to convince you that I don’t prefer what we have in Westview.”

With a hand on her back, he leads her to the table, pulling out the chair in front of the barely steaming tea, and then he sits directly next to her, tenderly taking her left hand in his own, thumb rubbing absentmindedly along her wedding ring. “I cannot fault you in any way for that feeling. If not for being complicit in the pain of so many, I would wholly embrace this life we have now.”

His tacit disapproval is only slightly less painful than his yelling, but she has to begrudgingly accept that he may not be completely wrong. Whatever pain he has sensed in others was enough to make him tear through the barrier and risk losing his own family. “But what if,” still she fights against figuring it out, unsure she can handle what it might lead to, “what if fixing this means I lose you again,” which is already incomprehensible, but is made even more harrowing by the next possibility, “what if it means losing Billy and Tommy too?”

Tears lick at the corners of his eyes, a war waging on his lips of how to proceed. “It will be horrifying and it will be immensely difficult but you,” he grabs her other hand, his fingers forming a vice around her own and she isn’t sure if he is trying to convince her or himself more, “are so remarkably resilient.”

Sometimes she wishes his density manipulation applied beyond just his body. “Clearly not, Vizh. Look around us.”

Vision doesn’t, instead he looks down at their enjoined hands, a shaky breath recentering his thoughts. “I think we may be, as they say, putting the cart before the horse.” The verbal shift is so utterly ridiculous that she chuckles, an action that causes him to smile nervously. “Did I use it wrong?”

“No, it just, you always say it so academically.”

“I see.” Finally real, genuine amusement flits across his face. “Well, regardless, we don’t know what is happening, unless there is something you aren’t telling me.” It is not an accusation in the slightest, in fact it is said as an aside, almost hopeful that she’s waiting to surprise him with the solution.

There is a lot she hasn’t said, but none of it seems vital other than perhaps one observation. “I definitely have control here,” this itself is painful to admit. Where he is merely complicit if he remains here, she is actively continuing it, “but, I don’t, I don’t know how to explain it, but I don’t know how I’m doing this.” Vision takes in the admission, brow furrowing as he no doubts files it away in his future mysteries to solve mental folder. “Like tonight,” she thinks back to when Billy told her about the soldiers, to the moment she realized what Vision had done, “All I knew is that I needed to save you because I couldn’t lose you again. I didn’t have any idea of how or what to do, but I felt like if I just put all of my powers into it, that something would happen.”

It’s amazing how easily he transitions into his cool and clinical investigator voice, “Is this the first time you’ve felt that?”

“No. I mean sometimes I have an idea of what I’d like,” such as when she saw the beekeeper come out of the sewer and then vanquished it, “but other times I just have a hope it will be fixed.”

“That is a start.”

Wanda waits for more and when it doesn’t arrive,she pushes for it, “What does that mean?”

He releases her hands and pats his legs, an odd energy reinvigorating in him. “We must figure out the source of these alterations. Clearly it is not just you.” A fact she can’t say for certain but doesn’t have the heart to correct him on, enjoying how it feels like they’re a team again instead of bitter foes. “I met someone tonight who has knowledge of our prior lives.”

This is unexpected and terrifying. Perhaps the only good thing is that she knows it is not Pietro, because she is not willing to trust him, but to be fair, she isn’t sure she can trust whomever Vision found. “Who is it?”

“Her name is Darcy, she says she is an astrophysicist and has a seemingly strong grasp on what happens outside of Westview.”

Vision is not a very strong judge of character all the time, quick to trust and slow to lose hope in a person, as evidenced by his continued trust in her, yet she asks him anyway. “Are you sure we can trust her?”

“I believe so.”

“Okay.” For now she lets him hold on to that belief, knowing that she will be able to assess this person when they meet. Which also means she knows, deep down, that if this person ends up like Monica, one of S.W.O.R.D.'s cronies, that she’ll be forced to take control again.

The sincerity of his “Thank you,” and the tenderness with which he grabs her hand again, bringing it to his lips with a bit too much romantic melodrama, brings about a fluttering warmth in her chest she has so dearly missed, one that chases away all the disparaging thoughts of what is to come, “truly, for your honesty.” Wanda simply smiles in return, not entirely certain her honesty is worth much at the moment.

It is a relief when Vision maneuvers the conversation to a happier topic. “You said Billy could sense me tonight?”

Pride spreads her lips into a toothy grin, “He’s a natural telepath.”

Vision shares her feelings, sitting back with a satisfied smirk. “We shall have to see if he has your telekinesis as well.”

“We will. Also, Tommy has superspeed.”

Vision’s paternal delight perks up his entire body. “Remarkable.”

“They’re pretty impressive.” Wanda finally picks up the tea and takes a sip, not caring it no longer holds any warmth, far too enamored and distracted by Vision launching into a suggestion of a training regime for their sons, the Maximoff family seeming to be front and center in his mind. If there is any kindness in the world, they deserve at least one night to care about themselves and no one else.

[marshmellowmin]

A “Fake” Love Story Pt.1| Mafia!Doyoung AU

1st of all-I’m so sorry we haven’t posted an update to the series in so long! @smorechan and I are both in school currently and have been hyper focused on that. Combine that with quarantine writers block and you get us not updating for almost 9 months straight. 

2nd of all-thank you to everyone who has been reading and supporting the series! It means so much to us! We would love to hear your thoughts on the series and who you want us to write next! 

3rd of all- I’ll be including a masterlist soon! It will be linked in my bio!

This series is a collaboration between myself (@marshmellowmin) and the author @smorechan. Please continue to support us as we release more related content and continue our stories. Thank you!

Doyoung: Politician. Ended up in congress when the last President was impeached, makes sure the laws work in favor of S-NCT. Was a trade dealer before becoming a politician. Is popular amongst the common population of Korea.

Years in Mafia: 10

Weapon of Choice: Billet 4x4 Snatch Rope

Body count: 3

___

  *Ding*

“Thank you for coming to Cherry Blossom Co! How can I help you today?” You popped your head up from the rose bush you were plucking at the moment to look towards the door of your little flower shop. By the daisies and petunias stood a man in his early to mid twenties, shifting his eyes between the flowers before landing on your own figure. 

“ Ah, I was wondering if I could get a bouquet made by tonight? Every other shop in the area is backed up with orders.” He gave a small smile before pulling his wallet out of his suit pocket “I can pay extra if it helps.” 

Walking from around the massive flower pot, you wiped the dirt off of your gloves before taking them off and shoving them into the apron tied around your waist. “Don’t worry about paying extra, I can make it for you right now!” Walking over to the workbench you pulled out a basic brown wrapping paper, folding it and laying it flat down on the table. “What is the occasion? A date maybe?” You looked up to the stranger, who had moved from the daisies over to the lilies, running his fingers gently along the petals. He probably had no problem securing a date, if he wasn’t married already. Tall, handsome and a soothing voice with a calm face. 

“Uh… not exactly” He set out a whispered laugh, scratching the back of his head, “ I have to meet the daughter of one of my associates tonight, I figured I should come prepared.” So he wasn’t married, nice.

“Well, do you have any idea what type of flowers you want? Big or small bouquet? And do you want a message written with it?” You pulled twine and cardstock along with lettering pens from under the counter.

“I know absolutely nothing about flowers, a decent sized bouquet and no message please, I wouldn’t know what to write,” He laughed again, this time bringing his hand to pull at his cuff sleeves. You chuckled at the man’s cluelessness, putting away the pens and cardstock. Even though he looked like a super smooth and suave guy, it was obvious he was oblivious to the world of romantics. 

“Well, what kind of a meeting is it? Professional, casual, or maybe even romantic?” You asked, walking around the hydrangeas and closer to the wildflowers before finally reaching the most popular flower, the red roses.

“What kind of flowers are your favorites?” He asked, following you around your small shop, eyeing every type of flower. Surprised by the question, you paused in front of the chrysanthemums.

“I like them all, if I’m being honest. But a bouquet of different types of wildflowers and lavender are my personal favorites. I always have some on display in my living room. Do you have a favorite flower?” You figured making small talk would help hurry his decision along-and maybe come back to your shop again. 

“I like that one flower, it grows a lot in America, it uhhh, it almost looks like a daisy but it’s petals are blue and purple and pink” He gave another nervous laugh, whipping out his phone this time before clicking around and unceremoniously shoving the phone into your own hands. A picture of a field, in what you assumed to be America, was on the screen, with beautiful flowers all across it.

“Those look like New England Asters!” You grinned widely, laughing. Moving back over to the wildflowers, you picked up a handful of the colorful flowers, showing them to him proudly. “I even have them in stock!” 

“Wow, I didn’t know you could find them in Korea.” He followed you back through the store as you pulled different flowers from bushes and buckets before you made it back to the workbench. You continued to make small talk as you made the bouquet, finishing it much quicker than you expected. 

“Here it is!” You held it up with pride, handing it over to him, which he gently took from you, a smile appearing. 

“Thank you so much, here, how much do I owe you?” He went to pull out his wallet again, before you raised a hand in an attempt to stop him. 

“Don’t worry about it. I had fun talking to you and I love making bouquets for people who enjoy the work behind it, so consider it on the house. Anything else you need?” 

“Um, I know this is gonna sound really weird, but will you come to this meeting with me? As a um, uh, a date?”

“I’m sorry?” You choked, halting all movements to put together the bouquet.

“Well, uhm I was supposed to court the daughter of the associate I’m meeting with tonight, which is why I needed the bouquet, but she’s like 16, and on top of her being way too young, she’s a total brat who’s never been told ‘no’ in her life. So you can see why I want to avoid courting her as much as possible,” the man awkwardly laughed and rubbed the nape of his neck, looking anywhere else but at you. You were shocked by his story, not quite believing that a man would actually marry off his 16 year old daughter to a man who appeared to be in his early twenties. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man’s position, and also happy he wasn’t a creepy pedophile.

“I’ll go with you, but on one condition. Tell me your name.” You smiled, tending to your bouquet once again. The man smiled brightly at your answer and chuckled a bit when he realized he had never told you his name. 

“It’s Kim Doyoung. Nice to meet you,” Doyoung looked at the embroidered name on your apron right below your left collarbone, “Y/N. Should I pick you up here around 6?” 

“Alright. I will see you at 6 Mr. Kim Doyoung. Doyoung nodded and the two of you spent the next few minutes asking questions about each other and how the meeting tonight would go down. As it turns out, the associate he was meeting tonight was West African and had connections all over the world, and Doyoung was trying to work with him to get some of the connections. He never mentioned what the connections were for though, which you found odd. Most men love to brag about their work experiences, while Doyoung tended to tell little pieces of his experiences. Eventually the bouquet was finished and Doyoung had to leave, something you both regretted-though the thought of seeing him again tonight kept you on your toes with excitement bubbling in your stomach.  

The rest of your day was just as mundane as you had expected. Nothing more than a husband with an upset wife at home, a young man on his first date, and a girl - looking for flowers to press - came into the shop. Still, your thoughts were filled with the image of a tall and lanky brunette that was supposed to be here any minute. 

5:59, you heard the chime of the front door opening, and walked in the same man from hours earlier. “Are you ready?” He asked, moving to the edge of the counter that you were behind, holding out his hand. “I promise that I will make it as adventurous as possible.” He gave out a chuckle as you timidly took the hand that he had offered. 

“I can’t wait to see what a high life you live Mr. Kim.” You joked, as he led you out to his car, waiting for you to lock the door to the shop. 

Driving for a while, he ended up in the front of a designer store, something you never even imagined walking into. Exiting the car, he walked to your side and opened the door, once again leading you inside of the brightly lit department store. Immediately, someone had approached the two of you, asking how they could help. Mentioning something about cocktail dresses, she led you farther back into the store and started pulling dresses off of the wall and hanging them on the door of a nearby dressing room. 

“Doyoung, what’s going on right now?” You asked, eyes darting between the racks of expensive clothing and the dressing room door.

“Well, you wanted to see the high life,” he laughed “plus, you need to look the part of a senator’s girlfriend, don’t you?” Senator… A SENATOR?!

Suddenly everything started clicking together. The tall lanky brunette who was definitely too sophisticated to be walking into such a small flower shop. Kim. Kim Dongyong. The youngest man in congress, who was also known as the heartthrob of Korea. You were going on a fake date with the man women of all ages were fawning over, regardless of political alignment. What. In. The. Hell. 

Zoning back into reality, Doyoung was waving his slender fingers in your face. Once he noticed a bit of sentience regained in them, he dropped his hand and cleared his throat. “I- I uh… I just realized that perhaps you didn’t know who I really was, it’s my fault really, I figured everyone in Seoul had at least a clue of what I looked like. That is a bit egocentric on my part. I understand if you no longer want to be my date for the evening.” His eyes were downcast, hands clasping behind him.

“No, no, no - it’s not that. I was just too slow to put all of the pieces together, and my apologies, I just don’t pay much attention to the news, it makes me sad.” You shook off the air of shock around you, regaining your composure. “Well, I guess I have to look the part to play the part, don’t I?” You laughed, looking behind you as Doyoung went to sit on the couch, ready to see whatever dress you picked out. 

Soon, you were leaving that gorgeous marbled store in a new peach dress and white heels, with a clutch to match and your hair and makeup done to the nines. During the time you were being, well, pampered, Doyoung had changed into a smart casual suit with the shirt matching the peach color of your dress. He wore off white slacks and white dress shoes, looking more like a government official than ever before. 

“Is there a reason we’re matching?” You asked, looking at Doyoung’s peach shirt and back to your peach cocktail dress. You had to admit, Doyoung looked unbelievably attractive in his suit, and the dress was doing you good as well.

“Don’t we look cute? I’m happy the peach looked good. You ready?” Doyoung asked, holding his arm out for you like a classic gentleman.

“I guess so. Lead the way Mr. Senator.” You grabbed Doyoung’s arm and soon enough, the two of you were in front of a very official dining hall, a sight you could only ever see in pictures on Google prior to 30 seconds ago. Holding onto Doyoung’s left arm, you walked up the steps and into the posh building. ’s grand entrance. You were greeted by a man in a traditional suit, the black blazer and slacks with a white collared shirt and a black tie made men look like penguins-and not very attractive ones. You were silently happy Doyoung hadn’t chosen to wear one. 

“Ah, Senator Kim! How lovely to see you tonight. And I see you brought a plus one! Who might she be?” The man shook Doyoung’s hand and before you even had a chance to introduce yourself, Doyoung spoke on your behalf.

“Very nice to see you as well Mr. Jeon. And this lovely lady here is my-”

“Fiance.” You cut Doyoung off before he had the chance to say “girlfriend”. Why? Who knows. But you’re stuck with it-and Doyoung knew it.

“Yes, we just got engaged so forgive my fiance for jumping in. She’s quite excited.” Doyoung’s right hand covered yours and gave it a gentle squeeze, signaling to you that you needed to say something. Or at least, that’s how you perceived it.

“Ah, yes, I’m very sorry for intruding like that. I just adore being able to call myself his fiance, please forgive me.” You gave the Mr. Jeon a sweet smile, hoping your sugary tone of voice was enough for him not to get upset. Unbeknownst to you, however, Doyoung was suppressing the world’s most shit eating grin, knowing you were the one who dug yourselves this massive hole and you were gonna be the one to get yourselves out.

“No worries, how could I be angry at such a wonderful couple? Although, not just two days ago Senator Kim here was one of Korea’s most eligible bachelors. Seems a little fast paced for an engagement, no?”

 “We’ve actually known each other for a couple years now, haven’t we dear?” Doyoung dragged out the little nickname, weirdly making your heart flutter a bit. You silently nodded in agreement. Mr. Jeon smiled and Doyoung made an escape attempt.

“Well it was nice seeing you here Mr. Jeon, I do hope to meet again after this. I figured my fiance and I should mingle a little bit, give me a true chance to show her off,” Doyoung smiled and shook the hand of Mr. Jeon before finally walking away with you hanging onto his elbow. You truly had no idea where he was going, but he made a beeline for somewhere and you were stuck following him, muttering hellos and nice to meet yous every time someone would try and speak with you two. Eventually Doyoung’s pace slowed and you found yourself near the back of the room by a couple security guards and a folding table for two. In true gentlemanly fashion, Doyoung pulled out a chair and motioned for you to sit before sitting himself right across from you.

“Fiance? Really? Seems kinda sus for a first date no?” Doyoung laughed, his gummy smile radiating pure sunshine at you from across the table. His tone and vocabulary completely shifted from the proper one he used with his political associates to a nonchalant and friendly one. You smiled back at him, giggling just a bit when Doyoung couldn’t quite stop his laughter.

“I have no clue. But on the brightside, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about girls wanting to court you anymore?” You shrugged your shoulders, signalling that if anyone did try, you weren’t to blame.

“That may very well be, but I can’t help but wonder what the headlines will look like once this news gets out. Maybe ‘Kim Dongyoung Engagement Announcement?’” Doyoung messed with the position of his watch on his left wrist and looked back up at you, seemingly expecting a response.

“You’re not being creative enough Mr. Kim. I bet it’ll be something like ‘Korea Loses its Most Eligible Bachelor Overnight to a Mysterious New Woman’” or something.” You laughed, thinking of many more outrageously dramatic headlines to come within the next 24 hour.

“Hm maybe. Wanna put something to that bet?” Doyoung asked, leaning ever so slightly over the table closer to you.

“Is that a challenge I hear?” You responded, mirroring his movements.

“You win, you become my real girlfriend. I win, you owe me three more dates then you can leave this entire life behind.” Doyoung sounded solemn when offering you an out, but you took this as a chance to be an outrageous flirt.

“Let’s hope I win then. We can’t add an engagement scandal to your name now can we?” You winked at the man in front of you, who only seemed stunned at your words. All you could do was stare into his eyes, an endless ocean of black drawing you further and further in-until Doyoungs phone went off. Awkwardly coughing, Doyoung answered his phone.

“What do you want? Huh? Now? Impeccable timing man. Yeah. I got it. See you at home. Bye.” Doyoung ended the call and huffed out a stressed sigh. 

“Home?” You questioned. Doyoung never once mentioned his home in all your conversations together-granted you had only known him for 13 hours. But you were still curious.

“That was my brother, of sorts. Anyways we have to talk to the ambassador from West Africa now, he just arrived. Is my fiance ready?” Doyoung drug out the word fiance as if to flirt and mock you at the same time. You could only roll your eyes and smile. He held out his hand for you to take and led you to a group of officials you could only assume were the West African Ambassador’s party. The ambassador himself was first to acknowledge the two of you.

“Ah Mr. Senator Kim! What a pleasure it is to meet you again, and under much, better, circumstances. I do apologize for the actions of my guards, their aim is just terrible. And who might this lovely young lady on your arm be?” The ambassador spoke, shaking Doyoungs hand and then yours. But the one thing that caught your attention was the stress the Ambassador put on the word ‘better’ and then his mention of his guards’ terrible aim. Did they shoot at Doyoung? Why would a Senator of Korea be shot at by a West African guard? Is there something Doyoung isn’t telling you about?

“This is my fiance, Ms. Y/L/N. I do apologize for the lack of mentions about her, you see not even my staff knew about her until this morning.” Doyoung’s words were short and almost crude, his tone overly nice. It was obvious he didn’t like this man.

“Not a worry Mr. Kim. She’s lovely. You’re a lucky man. My daughter was too shy to come anyways. She’ll be heartbroken, but one can only do so much in the way of a fiance, yeah?” You had a hard time making sense of his words, half due to his heavy accent and half due to the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of Doyoung being shot at.

“I do appreciate the understanding, Ambassador. Now, do you have it?” Doyoung asked, eyeing you as if you were listening in on a conversation you shouldn’t be hearing. You were just thoroughly confused about everything happening. Doyoung could’ve been shot and now he’s cryptically asking for something? There’s definitely more to this Senator than meets the eye. 

“Only if you have what I asked for, Mr Kim.” The Ambassador responded, signalling to someone in his party to do something, because the minute the Ambassador’s hand moved, the man nodded and left as if he was on a mission.

“You should find that it’s exactly where you need it. We’re very thankful for this, Ambassador. Should you ever need help in the future, don’t hesitate to ask.” Doyoung shook the Ambassadors hand one more time before returning his arm to your waist, pulling you closer into his side. You were now clueless as to who this “we” was that Doyoung mentioned. Did it have to do with the brother-of-sorts he mentioned earlier? One of the Ambassador’s other men leaned over and whispered something to him, making the Ambassador smile.

“You are all set Mr. Kim. Thank you for the generosity. We will definitely be in contact should we ever need help.” With that, Doyoung smiled and turned on his heels towards the door. You wanted to ask Doyoung so many questions but before you could he pulled out his phone and opened a news app.

“Looks like you won this bet, Ms. Y/L/N. I do look forward to our future together,” Doyoung said as he shoved the phone screen in your face. You had to hold his shaky wrist to stabilize the words enough to read the latest headline “Kim Dongyoung, Korea’s Most Eligible Bachelor, Stolen by Mysterious New Woman.

[dont-tempt-me-frodo]

Overindulging

Also available to read on ao3 

For the first time in a long time, Jaskier wasn’t completely bereft of coin. ‘Toss A Coin To Your Witcher’ had proved very popular with the masses and in the months that followed after writing it, the pouch he kept on his belt jingled merrily with every step.

It was why, when they stopped in Novigrad to discuss a contract with a merchant, he got a little excited in the market and decided to indulge in something sweet. Geralt had rolled his eyes at him as he popped brown paper bag after brown paper bag into his satchel and fixed him with a look that Jaskier was quickly learning to decipher as ‘I don’t understand you and we need to move this along before I let out an annoyed grunt.’

Jaskier joined him again, grin lighting up his face as they wove their way through the busy town square towards the tavern they were to spend the night in.

“Why waste your coin?” Geralt grumbled as he spotted Jaskier patting his satchel.

“Because dear Witcher,” the bard hummed, “I’m allowed to treat myself to nice things, things that I want. With coin that I earned, might I add, so there comes a feeling of satisfaction with the purchase. Spending isn’t wasteful if it makes me happy.”

“Hm.”

“Why shouldn’t I enjoy the things I like? It’s been too long since I’ve had chocolates and cakes and other sugary delights. Not that your rabbit stew isn’t lovely and all, but I’m allowed to indulge a little in finer things. You can’t tell me you’ve never bought something just because you want it?”

“Hm.”

The tone of this ‘hm’ was subtly different than the last and Jaskier was starting to get good at picking them apart.

“Really? Never? Not even a sneaky sweet? Have you even had chocolate and the like before?”

“No,” the Witcher grunted, “If it isn’t essential to my survival, I’d rather save the coin.”

“Brothels are the exception,” Jaskier smirked at the glare in Geralt’s amber eyes, “No, no, I get it. We all have needs.”

Geralt’s jaw twitched and Jaskier had to bite back a laugh as they entered the tavern.

They were met by a wall of heat, the scent of ale and sweat heavy in the air. The buzz of chatter was loud and Geralt pulled a face at the onslaught to his senses.

As Geralt marched over to an empty table in the corner, Jaskier sidled up to the bar to discuss a warm meal and rooms for the night with the barkeep.

The Witcher found that Jaskier was much more successful in this endeavour than he had ever been, and it was easier to leave the young man to it.

Since Posada, he had begrudgingly allowed Jaskier to travel with him with the agreement that when they reached Oxenfurt, they’d part ways. Geralt had tried to dissuade the bard from his company many times but Jaskier was stubborn, and for some reason unknown to him, had stuck around.

He had to admit, having Jaskier by his side did have its benefits.

For one, negotiations for contracts went smoother and he was paid better for his work. The bard, even only eighteen years old, exuded this charismatic charm that seemed to make people feel guilty for short-changing or trying to cheat the Witcher. Those who still tried were met with Jaskier’s sharp words and indignant anger and often the threat of a rude song being composed about them.

For another, there was the whole tavern and inn situation. On his own, Geralt would be extremely lucky to get a room anywhere, often having to camp under the stars, which he didn’t really mind, but there were times when a roof over his head was definitely preferable. Since meeting Jaskier, they were rarely turned away as long as Jaskier promised the Witcher’s best behaviour and a set or two to entertain the patrons.

Then there was the song, and the other ballads Jaskier had started composing about his daring deeds. Geralt couldn’t deny that the general attitude towards himself had improved ever so slightly, and Jaskier assured him that the more songs he put out into the world, the more the fame of the White Wolf spread, the easier things would become.

It almost made the endless talking and impromptu lute playing and complaining about sore feet, the cold, the heat, being hungry, being tired, worth it. Almost.

Jaskier joined him at the table with two frothing ales and a coy smile.

“Plates of stew on their way, and two rooms. Fought hard for them too. Stingy bastard was only willing to give us one room to start with,” he perched on the chair opposite Geralt and took a deep drink from his tankard.

Geralt shrugged, “One room doesn’t bother me.”

A strange look crossed Jaskier face but it was gone before Geralt had the chance for it to fully register.

“Meh, I thought you’d prefer having the bed to yourself seeing as how I apparently steal all the sheets,” there was an air of nonchalance about Jaskier’s tone.

“You do,” Geralt narrowed his eyes at him.

“Do not,” Jaskier retorted, then after a beat, mumbled, “Not my fault if I’m cold.”

“Hm.”

“Riveting as this conversation is, as always with you Witcher, I agreed to play a few songs before our food is brought over.”

“Singing for your supper?” Geralt grunted, a hint of amusement in his expression.

“Yes, yes, alright,” Jaskier scowled at him.

He pulled his lute case onto the table and then lifted the instrument out to make sure it was in tune.

The first thing Jaskier had done with the first coin he had earned was to buy a protective travel case for the lute Filavandrel had gifted him. Even with his youthful clumsiness and brash impulses, Jaskier took very good care of his instrument. Perhaps even more so than Geralt did his blades. The Witcher couldn’t help but admire the bard for it.

Jaskier settled back in the chair a moment, scanning the tavern to pick out a good spot for a performance then inhaled sharply as a thought struck him.

He took out the brown paper bags he had slid into his satchel and arranged them on the table in front of him, peering into each one until he found what he was looking for. He popped a delicate looking chocolate truffle into his mouth and hummed in contentment, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

Geralt arched a brow at him and Jaskier tilted his head slightly.

“Want one?” he asked, offering the bag to Geralt.

The Witcher could smell the thick, rich sweetness wafting from the bag and sighed. Jaskier smiled in delight as Geralt took one and shoved it in his mouth. His jaw almost dropped, and his eyes blew wide. He chewed enthusiastically and swallowed.

“Good?” the bard grinned.

Geralt nodded, his pupils still dilated.

“By all means, have another,” Jaskier hummed as he stood and practically skipped between the chairs and tables to take up a position in front of the crackling hearth.

He shook himself, trying to dislodge the knot of nerves that had settled in his gut, and beamed at the patrons, none of whom were really paying him any attention.

“Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen,” he lilted, “My name is Jaskier and I will be playing for you throughout the next few hours.”

There were a few eyes on him now and he darted his tongue across his lower lip.

With a strum of his lute, he launched into ‘Toss A Coin,’ and felt himself relax a little in the familiarity and safety of the music. A ripple of recognition crossed many of the faces watching him with a new intrigue.

Jaskier still couldn’t believe how quickly this song had spread and when he hit the chorus a few of the patrons joined in. A giddy feeling rushed through him.

He let himself get lost in the moment and when he finished with a flourish, the round of applause that followed had him beaming.

“Thank you,” he chirped.

Filled with confidence, he went into a ballad he had recently composed about Geralt taking on a wraith that had been haunting an orchard. He was still fine tuning it, but by the reactions of the crowd, he was getting close.

He took a few requests after that, and after over an hour of playing, he announced he was taking a break but would be back soon. This was met with a mixture of cheers and protests and he made his way back to Geralt, vibrating with the adrenaline that came with performing.

Jaskier knew something was wrong the second he approached the table. Geralt was hunched over in his chair and the plate of steaming stew in front of him lay untouched. Then Jaskier noticed the brown paper bags. The very clearly empty brown paper bags.

He bit his lip and gingerly sat opposite the Witcher.

Geralt looked very sick. He was slightly grey, and he was clutching his stomach.

“Oh Geralt. Please tell me you didn’t-” Jaskier felt his chest ache at the miserable expression on the Witcher’s face.

“M’sorry,” Geralt mumbled.

“You ate all of it? Everything I bought?” Jaskier would be annoyed if it weren’t for the pitiful groan that escaped from the Witcher.

Jaskier thumbed his temples, forcing away the bubble of laughter that rose with how ridiculous this situation was.

“I don’t feel so good,” Geralt whined. He whined, and Jaskier felt his heart melt.

“I’m not surprised,” the bard sighed, trying to decide the best course of action.

He wanted to eat, to fill his stomach with warm stew and then get back up and continue his set, but Geralt needed him right now. The Witcher’s distress was blinding and Jaskier swallowed down his petty selfishness, deciding that Geralt was being punished enough for his lack of self-control. Not a phrase he thought he’d ever associate with the white-haired man.

“Come on, let’s get you to your room and settle you down,” Jaskier rose again, bringing his lute with him as he placed a hand on Geralt’s shoulder.

The Witcher slowly got up on unsteady legs and Jaskier looped an arm around his shoulders to keep him upright. The bard led him up the stairs and guided him into a small room, whispering quiet words of reassurance as he did so.

The pallet bed with its straw mattress crowded the left wall and a washstand with a basin inhabited the right corner.

Jaskier lowered Geralt onto the bed. The Witcher gurned, paling a shade greyer, and watched with dull eyes as Jaskier hovered awkwardly.

“Jaskier… I think… I think I’m dying,” Geralt groaned through a spasm of pain.

“You’re not dying. It’s just stomach-ache. You’re going to be fine,” Jaskier fidgeted with his fingers, “Has this never happened to you before?”

“No. Don’t like it. When will it go away?” the Witcher grunted.

“You should just be able to sleep it off. With your Witchery metabolism, you should feel better in no time,” Jaskier chewed his cheek as Geralt lay back, hands splayed over his extended stomach.

Jaskier knew what he was supposed to do, he just didn’t know if he should, if it would be welcomed, if he was crossing some sort of boundary. He’d known Geralt for a few months. He didn’t think that giving his new friend a stomach rub for overindulging was quite acceptable yet.

Geralt closed his eyes, his breath coming in sharp huffs and Jaskier perched cautiously on the edge of the bed.

“Geralt,” he said timidly, “Do you want me to…to help?”

“Is there something you can do?” Geralt’s eyes snapped open, wide and imploring.

Jaskier gave a shy nod.

If it weren’t for the tight ache in his guts, Geralt would have pondered the unusual reservedness of his young bard companion. But another wave of nausea crashed over him and he grunted out a “Please,” instead.

Jaskier swallowed thickly and very gently, rested his hand on Geralt’s firm stomach. As he started to massage soothing circles, the fabric of Geralt’s shirt bunching under his fingers, the Witcher let out a shaky sigh and pressed his head back into the pillow.

“Feels nice. Thanks,” Geralt muttered as he closed his eyes again.

Jaskier’s heart leaped into his throat at the trust the Witcher was placing in him. He knew this relationship he was trying to build with Geralt was very one-sided. He wasn’t an idiot. But this moment right here, as Jaskier rubbed Geralt’s aching stomach, it sent curls of warmth through him.

He let the tension in his shoulders release when he realised that the Witcher had fallen asleep and pulled his hand back into his lap.

A strange emotion sparked in his chest as he looked at Geralt and he forced it away.

Don’t do it Jaskier, he told himself, don’t fall for him. That is a dangerous path to heartbreak. But he couldn’t help the shiver of emotion that thrilled through him when Geralt sighed softly, looking so peaceful and utterly beautiful.

Jaskier pushed himself up from the bed and reached for the door, glancing one last time at Geralt before leaving the small room.

He paused in the hallway, listening to the muted sounds of the tavern below, trying to let it drown out the rapid pattering of his heart.

They were friends. Not even friends. Geralt didn’t have friends. He’d told Jaskier often enough in the past few months.

But he knew now. That would never be enough. And all Jaskier could do was hope.

[tuffduff]

Unexpected {part II} (Izzy Stradlin x Reader)

Pairing: Izzy x Reader

Words: 1,693

Request: @universal-scorpio “Heyyyy! I’m kinda new to the Guns fandom but I saw you were open to requests so maybe a part 2 to the Unexpected Izzy imagine please? Where Izzy and the reader have the baby?? Anyway, I love your blog and I hope you’re happy, healthy and doing well at this time! 💖”

A/N: Stradlin Sunday rolls on! Genuinely get so excited reading what you guys think, I’m always like “wow people actually like what I write!” lmao thank you guys for giving me that. I hope everyone is doing safe and well, thanks again for the request @universal-scorpio and for being so sweet! Welcome to the Jungle! ❤️🐯

Taglist: @ubernoxa

Izzy was the definition of calm and collected during your pregnancy. Your first trimester went off without a hitch if you didn’t count the nausea and hormones. When you would just burst into tears at the silliest things, like your dog getting a haircut or running out of ice cream, he would do his best to make it better. There wasn’t much he could do about the dog, but he always made sure to have every odd snack already in your house. If you wanted something you didn’t have, like sweet pickles in particular, he would leave your house—often in the middle of the night—to get it.

Really, he always seemed to know exactly what to do and never lost his patience or his cool. Sometimes you wondered in amusement if he had forgotten you were pregnant; the random onset of heartburn or tears never phased him. Or, at least that’s what you thought for a few months. Evidently, he had you fooled.

One day, while he was out taking your dog for a walk, you wandered into the studio in your home where he recorded and played music—his little sanctuary. You were surprised at the tall pile of books on a desk that you hadn’t seen before and inspected each title curiously. The Birth Partner, Pregnancy Childbirth and the Newborn, What to Expect When You’re Expecting, Your Pregnancy Week by Week.

Beside the stack of books, you found an open notebook and flipped through it. The first few pages were all full of potential song lyrics and music, but soon, his writings turned to all things concerning your baby. It was like he was a student preparing for an exam with neat notes and underlines and reminders.

“Babe?” You turned to see Izzy at the door frame, faint lines on his forehead. You could feel a wide smile growing on your lips as you turned to face him.

“What’s all of this?” You asked him curiously, raising What to Expect When You’re Expecting. “Shouldn’t I be the one reading this?” He shrugged a bit sheepishly.

“I wanted to be able to put myself in your shoes and sort of…anticipate what you’re going to be going through so I can help somehow…” He looked down a little, scratching the back of his neck. “Besides, I don’t think it’s you that needs the extra help.”

“Izzy! Are you worried?” You asked, abandoning the books and walking in front of him to cradle his face and lift his gaze up to meet yours. Your tummy rested against his, preventing you from getting as close as you wanted.

“This is just something I don’t want to fuck up.” He admitted quietly, finally looked you in the eyes. His hands drifted up and rested on your tummy. “I don’t want to let you or our baby down.”

“Babe…there’s nothing wrong with doing a little preparation. But you shouldn’t be worried, you’re going to be a great father. And you’re gonna make mistakes.” He looked up sharply. “I am too. I’m not perfect, no one is. But I know we’re going to do the best we can and this baby isn’t going to be lacking any love or care from either of us. And I know as long as I have you by my side, we’re gonna figure this out as we go and be alright.” He relaxed a little bit and nodded finally, raising his hands to stroke your hair.

“Somehow, I keep finding ways to fall even more in love with you.” He told you, kissing your forehead.

“I hope that never goes away.” You giggled leaning into his embrace.

Soon, it was time to find out the sex of your child. No longer trying to hide his feelings, Izzy held your hand tightly through the entire experience, his right leg bouncing in uncontrolled anxiousness. His other free hand drummed on his knee absently as you both watched the ultrasound image.

“Well, congratulations mom and dad, you’ve got a healthy baby girl.” When you turned to look at Izzy’s reaction, you instantly grew emotional. His mouth was slightly open in amazement and you could see his eyes beginning to water. He stood from his seat and leaned in closer to get a look, shaking his head in disbelief before he leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“We’ve got a baby girl…Y/N, we’ve got a baby girl.” It was almost as though he needed to repeat it to get it into his own head, to enter this new reality.

“Now we’ve gotta think of a name,” you giggled.

Your pregnancy continued to go extremely well. You and Izzy argued over names constantly, in the middle of everyday conversation.

“Do we have eggs?” Izzy would ask you in the grocery store before absently adding. “How about Amelia?”

“We need more eggs. And a better name than Amelia.” Izzy rolled his eyes at you before he lifted a block of cheese from the assortment in front of you.

“How about Brie?” He asked dryly.

“I am not going to tell my baby girl her father named her after a block of cheese!” You told him, shoving his shoulder as he laughed.

Eventually, despite his trepidation, he decided to reach out to his former band members and let them know the latest news in your lives. They had nothing but love and support for the both of you and even pitched in collectively to send you guys an assortment of gifts; a new expensive car seat, flowers for you, and tons of new outfits and toys. The sweetest thing possibly, however, was a tiny onesie with a Guns N’ Roses logo. “You’re still family,” Axl insisted to the both of you. It was the exact reassurance Izzy needed.

“Babe, come here for a sec?” Izzy called you into his studio one night. “I want Ramona to hear something.” When you entered the room Izzy was sat, guitar in hand, and a gentle smile.

“Ramona?” You questioned.

“Did I say that out loud?” Izzy asked, making you laugh a little. “I’m not gonna lie, I really like that one—I’ve started calling her that in my head. So, just tell me how much you hate it and we can move on…”

“Hate it? I don’t hate it.” Izzy looked surprised and you giggled. “Maybe you caught me on a good day. No, really. I love it. It’s different.” Izzy’s returning smile forever reminded you of how lucky you were to have this life. “Now, surprise us.”

“It’s a new song I wrote for her,” the song he played on his guitar was a lulling soothing melody, his words soft and loving as he described in an incredible show of vulnerability his fears of not getting fatherhood right, but how he would always love and support her and do right by her. It made you cry. You could feel your baby kicking in your stomach and gasped through your tears, motioning for Izzy to place his hand to your belly. Soon, he was crying too.

The day your water broke was a day Izzy was not home, but recording with his new band, the JuJu Hounds, and you had to call him frantically, trying not to panic alone in your house.

“Shit! I’m on my way, I’ll be there in five minutes, Y/N! I’m right down the road!” You could hear the panic in his voice too.

Izzy made it in ten, screeching to a halt outside the front of your house where you were sat gripped with pain from a contraction.

“I thought you said five!” You complained as he hurried to help you into the car.

“Yeah, it would’ve been five but I got pulled over,” he explained. “He let me go though. Hopefully, it doesn’t happen on our way to the hospital, huh?” The force of which you gripped his hand made his face pale.

“You’re not stopping if it does. Drive, please.” Izzy was almost afraid to utter any words on the way to the hospital and would shoot worried glances at you every so often while gripping the wheel tight with both hands. You were sure he was dying to smoke the whole pack of cigarettes on him but had stopped smoking around you.

“Just in case I forget, I never want to have another baby with you.” You groaned. He chuckled nervously.

“Hopefully not with some other man either, right?” He grew silent again at the glare you shot him.

Izzy never left your side through it all and everything happened so fast. You barely noticed him through your pain, you barely noticed much of anything. After a grueling long afternoon and evening, you gave birth to your baby girl, Ramona Leann Isbell, at 4:36 AM.

While you did your best to recover, panting and feeling like you had nothing left to give, you watched Izzy take your newly wrapped baby girl into his arms. The way he held her gave away his inner fear, slightly shaking and with an overabundance of caution, as though she were a precious vase he was afraid of breaking. You watched his eyes, wide with wonder that quickly flooded with love as he let out a soft sigh of awe. This little girl already had him wrapped around her tiny finger.

“Hey, little one…welcome to the world. Daddy’s got you, daddy’s always got you. I’m right here…” he cooed gently, settling into a more confident position. He glanced over at you with the biggest smile in the world and you didn’t even realize until that moment you were crying. “Do you want to see mommy? Yeah? Let’s see mommy,” he brought you over and you sat up eagerly, gaining new strength, and held out your arms. Izzy gently cradled your baby into your arms and leaned beside you on the hospital bed, tucking your hair out of your face.

“I can’t believe we made her.” He marveled out loud to you, pressing his face next to your hair. “She’s perfect, just like you. I love you so much, Y/N. Thank you for giving me this incredible life.”  

[crowleyellestair]

Hello, how are you? Are taking requests? If so, could you please write a Lambert blurb? I read you Eskel one and I love it! Thank yoooou

AN// Thank you! I’m glad you liked my other one <3 I wrote this, then realised you wanted a blurb. This is a little longer, but I will get to writing a shorter thing for ya. Requests are always open!

  Kaer Morhen was a wrecked fortress, with rubble rolling over every lick of the mountain it was built into. Only ghosts and the remaining witchers tread through the demolished halls, unless bringing on a willed companion. Geralt was the only wone who ever brought people with, though they were growing less welcome by the person. Yennefer, Triss Ciri and Dandelion had taken the trail and had spent winters within the walls. Though, after Triss, the White Wolf was warned by the youngest witcher that compliancy with new people was quickly dwindling.

It had made sense. Yennefer was known to have her talons embedded in the wolf’s fur, which never really gave anyone hope for any other sorceress from the Lodge. The Merigold had come along, chestnut hair bouncing in the wind, her nose held high. Lambert hadn’t taken too kindly to what she preached, as she hadn’t spent every winter in the keep- everything she saw and spoke down upon were things the men were well aware of. He swore, that if the woman ever spoke poorly of his manners again, he’d show her just how ‘savage’ he could really be.

Luckily, this winter was looking up. The men usually informed the others of any companions they were bringing, but there was no word from Geralt. Yennefer had made a large fuss after Triss had apparently tattled, so the young Lion Cub would be spending winter with her and the Lodge. While Lambert would begrudgingly admit he’d miss the little spitfire, being alone also sounded like a nice difference. It been a rough year for him and the public, and despite hating being alone with his own ghosts, he wasn’t sure he could handle more people.

When his medallion started to vibrate against his chest, every hair on his body stood on end. He clutched the powdered dimeritium closer to his chest, ready to start a war. He had warned Geralt, and he wasn’t one to joke when it came to disrespect and people associated with it. Geralt strolled through the front door, and a younger female gasp was heard behind him. Eskel was quick to evaluate Lambert’s reaction, but decided to greet the two.

“Brother, glad you made it.” The two wolves’ arms fell around each other in a familiar yet rare embrace. The brunette pulled away to ask his friend, “And who is this?” The subject of the question turned from the pile of supplies she was looking over to show a bright smile. Her hand jabbed towards him through the air, excitement seeming to be her driving force.

“Hello! Y/n, mage consultant of Dorian. Thank you for being kind enough to allow me to stay here, it’s an honor.” The hand not meeting her shake went up to brush over his scar, and landing behind his neck. He gave a small, dubious smile, trying to cover up Lambert’s loud scoff with a response. Despite being across the large hall, it was clear as day what type of anger and disgust that dripped from the young witcher.

“Eskel. I don’t know about honor coming with it, but you are welcome. We aren’t entirely sure the reasoning behind your stay, but you’re here now.” Y/n’s smile faltered when their hands dropped.

“Oh, my apologies. I helped Yennefer and Ciri out of a large scuffle, but some people are after me now.” Lambert had left his spot on the table to come to the group. Shoulder’s squared, he threw on a sarcastic smirk.

“What type of people does a sorceress need to worry about?” Sorceress was spoken with a fake worshiping tone, with hand gestures in the air to allude to him seeing them as overpowered deities. The woman’s smile fell completely at the new character’s entrance. Both Eskel and Geralt watched as her chest popped out as well, and her eyes followed Lamberts purposely. Though, it was clear it wasn’t a struggle for dominance, but for respect.

“I’m actually a simple mage. Human. Aging and all. That’s why Geralt offered to help,” her tone became stronger through her finishing statement. “And why it was so surprising I was any help in the first place.” Eskel’s eyes widened, looking to his younger brother. No one had approached his berating with that tactic. How can one bully someone who already bullies themselves- and with such confidence and bravado? Eskel stepped in, his shoulder barley overlapping Lambert’s, giving a small buffer between the two.

“This is Lambert. He’s always this way, but he is kind.” The man in question rolled his eyes before folding his arms over his chest. His glare flickered to Geralt, and snarled out,

“I told you after Merigold that I’m not dealing with this horse shit.” Every consonant was hit with a certain venom that reminded the other two of the Viper school. Grealt had huffed, folding his arms as well while it was the mage’s turn to scoff.

“Triss? I wouldn’t say I’m in league with her.” Wide eyes flew to her, but she gave a nonchalant shrug. Her eyes wandered over everything but them, her attention easily being taken by the new location. “I might have a great knowledge of alchemy and chemistry, but she was never fond of how I conducted my experiments. You need to take risks for breakthroughs, even if it’s yourself that’s at risk.” Her eyes finally met everyone else’s. “I know she didn’t want me to hurt myself, but discovery is harnessing the unknown. I know the risks. She certainly could have laid it on nicer though.”

Vesemir’s entrance back into the great hall had taken a weight off of the White Wolf’s shoulders. He had mentioned the tension she might face, but he hadn’t been too worried. Though her introduction was kind, he wasn’t confident that it would deter the young man. He wasn’t one to let go of grudges, especially since they are his main bedfellows.

A week had gone by, and the men hadn’t really seen the mage outside of mealtimes. While it was understandable as they were really only focused on three other things: Training lounging, and rebuilding the ruin. As far as Lambert was concerned, that’s how it should be. This was his time, and she was Geralt’s guest. If she stayed away and was only summoned for meals, so be it. Though, this fake paradise was short lived once Vesemir asked him to escort her through the mountain to the old watchtower.

He didn’t bother knocking on the library door when he pushed it open as it was his home. There was a certain strut he had to him, but his grand, sassy entrance was wasted as the mage was leaned over the large table that had been pushed to the side years ago. Lambert stopped just next to her, leaning over her shoulder to find multiple books spread over a large map. Penciled in circles scattered over its surface, and she had a finger running over a book’s text before adding another circle.

There was no attention afforded to the man yet, and he was able to finally get a clear look at her. Her frame was covered in thicker layers that still had lighter colors despite the norm having otherwise. Light blues painted the clothes with white furs lining it. He was glad to see she wore trousers, dreading to have to carry a woman through the mountain if she strips over the skirt of a dress. Her skin looked soft- too soft to be found in the fort. Even Triss and Yen, with their perfect skin, had a specific hardness to them. Weathered skin, while it can look flawless, has a texture. There were burns and cuts that littered Y/n’s hands and wrists, likely from the experiments she had mentioned when she first arrived. Despite those blemishes, Lambert was sure that he would only feel a silk or velvet like thing- he wasn’t familiar with either textures, so the fluffy words were things he must have picked up in passing with Dandelion. If he were to reach out, he was sure she would fit snuggly in his arms.

The young witcher was lost in his observations, so when she abruptly stood straight, he had to work double to make sure she didn’t touch him. She turned; a bright smile that had the sun reflected in her eyes beamed at him. The map was being rolled in her hands and was shoved into a satchel that was hastily thrown over her shoulder.

“Thanks for doing this, Lambert. I think I’ll find the herb at the watchtower, but if not, there are three other places it might be. Of course, if you don’t want to, we could go out a different day if the tower is a bust.” His arms crossed over his chest, trying to shield himself from the onslaught of positivity.

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. ‘We’ could easily turn into a ‘you and someone else’. I was volunteered, and I doubt I’ll be as willing to waste my precious minutes next time.” He gave a smile that was tainted with sarcasm. Despite this, her hand had somehow made its way to his upper arm, and gave a light squeeze. Her smile faltered, telling him something hit home, but she put up a strong front.

“I’m sure you’ll be happy to know that this herb will help in covering my magic footprint. Therefore, we find this now, you won’t have to see me later. Volunteered or not, I’m sure you’ll find some joy from today’s journey somehow.” The feigned joy that radiated from her statement threw the man through the wringer again. The deflection by self-destruction in their first meeting had obliterated the jesting wall around his heart. It had defenses- it had to. One of the main defenses it had was what some would call bullying, but he usually never meant any jest he tossed. But it was like he threw a bomb at her, and by her using aard against herself, it blew the bomb back at his wall by getting caught in the gust. And again, he was taken back. He was familiar with the tactic, but only because it was something he used to do before the trials. If you bully yourself, no one else can find joy in doing it. He saw himself in that moment, and it made him wonder, what happened to her?

Lambert nodded, moving to give a grandiose wave of the arm.

“Lead the way.” With that, the two headed towards the tower. Luckily, there were trails leading to it, but unluckily for them, they met trouble. The mountains were crawling with bears, and while both Lambert and Y/n were fine with it, it seemed the bears weren’t fond of them. A smaller, yet fair size bear walked in the way of the path, though it looked to be alone.

Lambert was quick to pull his steel, but he stiffened when he felt the mage’s hand clamp around his that gripped the sword. His eyes glared towards her for a moment, but her eyes were still on the bear. She was completely still, which made Lambert roll his eyes. Then, her voice came out stiff, lips unmoving.

“Stay very still.” His eyes rolled, but decided not to move. He couldn’t smell any fear, but anxiety still came off in soft waves.

“That doesn’t really work. If someone from the School of the Bear heard that, they’d laugh at you.” He watched as her body shifted slowly, and only when she couldn’t see the bear’s eyes. After a minute of the standoff, she was behind him completely. The young bear looked baffled when she was gone, and started to move quickly towards them. Lambert brought his sword in front of him, but he heard a small, ‘get ready’ in his ear. His form broke when Y/n jumped onto his back. His hands automatically fell under her legs, and shifted her up. Despite catching her, he remained confused until he heard her make something between a roar and a scream. It was loud and full, but to him it sounded as if a kitten were impersonating a lion. The bear, who looked as though he was going to stand on his hind legs and strike, quickly fled. Lambert let her fall from his arms before picking up his discarded sword.

“That shouldn’t have worked.” He looked to her, who was smiling and looking quite pleased. She turned to face him, throwing her hands over her head, while curling her fingers to make fake claws.

“Well, we make quite the feral beast.” Lambert’s head was thrown back at the loud and powerful laugh that raked through him. He felt his shoulders quake, and his eyes close, but the other half of their ‘feral beast’ stood there blushing. Her hands fell back down by her sides, and she simply stood. When his laughing died down, and she still simply stood, he sensed her. He noticed the elevated heartrate and turned, hand on hilt, making sure another bear didn’t appear. When there was nothing, he turned back.

“What?” Her blush grew, and she bent to fix her boots and fiddle with her satchel. When everything seemed in order, she turned to start walking toward the tower again. The witcher followed, and after a moment, she looked to him.

“You have a beautiful laugh, is all.” Lambert immediately stiffened, but when he listened to her heart, he found she was telling the truth. It was still elevated, but the flush that was still spread overhear cheeks and neck was the reasoning for it. His brows still furrowed as they continued to the destroyed building.

It didn’t make sense. People don’t like Lambert. He was brash and blunt, neither attribute highly sought after. Brutal honesty is what he gave because the other option was lying. Lying by sprinkling in a kindness that he knew didn’t exist in the world. There was little positivity that he gave because there was never any shown back to him. He knew that it wasn’t too fair, as he gave up looking for it. There were always moments when he would be shown that sun, but every other day was grey. And being a witcher at the core was the nail in the coffin. People didn’t want to interact with a mutated monstrosity, let alone like them. Or find their laugh beautiful.

The young witcher agreed with himself in putting up extra defenses. This random mage who was on the run wouldn’t get any closer to that fortress he called his heart. He tried to forget the multiple smiles she has thrown his way over the past week. The multiple times she received the bread bowl, and asked if he wanted any before taking some. The short, passing statements that showed a valley of pain behind the mountains of kindness. Forget those bright eyes that show no judgement for anything but herself.

Disappointment was obvious when they made it to the tower, and she couldn’t find it. Lambert stood by the entrance, watching with crossed arms and a dismissive look as her shoulders fell. His golden eyes fluttered over their surroundings for a moment, looking for wraiths or bears. He looked back to where Y/n had just been, but ran in when she was gone. He found her halfway up a tattered latter, a look of determination obvious.

“What are you doing? If Vesemir- hell, if Geralt sees me carrying you back to the fort with broken bones, it’ll be my ass on the chopping block. Get down.” While he was telling the truth, and his tone was harsh, he did feel worried. He is her escort, and he can’t have her getting hurt on his watch. If a strong witcher can’t protect her on a simple scavenger hunt, what would she think of him once she was better? Would she still smile at him? He doubted it, and the way he covered up his real reasonings didn’t matter. She didn’t know he needed her safe to see her smile at him willingly. Y/n turned, pointing up somewhere towards the remaining top of the turret. He could see her red, cold fingertips due to the fingerless gloves she decided to wear. While it was just frost and light snow that covered everything, the chances of her fall was too high.

“There’s a platform up there, and I’m gonna check.”

“No.”

“What?” He shook his head, putting his hands on her hips. He lifts her easily and places her softly back on the ground.

“I’ll go. What does it look like?” Again, Y/n simply stood there. She shook her head, while quickly going for her satchel.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. The herb. Give me a moment.” Lambert dropped his hands from her hips when she had to maneuver her bag over his arm. The mage pulled the book from her back, opening to the page with a small purple bud. “They’re hard to spot. If it’s open, don’t touch it. If it’s closed, give it a pinch. It should be hard to the touch despite its gentle looking exterior.” He nodded, and turned to the latter. It didn’t take too long to scale the rubble, finding the small buds. He did as she asked, and gathered a handful before jumping and flipping back down. When he landed, and presented the buds, her eyes sparkled much like they did when she first arrived.

“Are you going to take them, or did I do all of that for nothing?” Again, she shook herself back to reality, tearing her eyes from his face. He didn’t feel it happen, but a small smile crept onto his face. He wasn’t even trying to impress, much like he would in the courtyard. Her fingertips brushed the heel of his hand as she gathered the buds, and he felt a yearning he hadn’t felt before. He was right; her skin was soft. Cold, but soft. He wanted those fingertips to brush over him again. One of the tips felt rough, likely from the same place those burns came from. But it was a pleasant difference, and something he’d love to explore.

“Perfect, Lambert.” Her voice was soft, and she hadn’t said anything after that. She smiled and turned, jerking her head to beckon him to follow. He did like a lost dog. They made their way back to the keep, Y/n rambling about the importance of the plant. There was an interlude in her speech when she asked, “How do wolves climb? Is that like a special power you have? How high can you climb? Can you do anything else as cool?” A smirk found its way to his face as they entered past the bridge.

“I frequent with people from the School of the Cat. I don’t think the others can do quite what I can. They don’t like when I hang with them, but I think it’s just jealousy. And yeah, I have a whole arsenal of tricks.” He smiled to her during his last statement that earned what he would classify as a giggle.

“Well, it was quite spectacular.” Lambert found his smirk falling, trying to figure out why that statement would be made. They made their way back to the main hall, where his eyes danced over the rest of the men at the table. “I’m going back to the library. Thank you again for the help.” Her hand flew back to his arm, giving another light squeeze. “If you want to show any other cool things from that school, I’d happily watch.” Lambert watched as the blushing mage flew to the stairs. Once they all heard her footsteps disappear, the men at the table start to chuckle. Lambert throws his swords onto the tabletop, falling in place next to Eskel. Before the brunette takes a drink, he jokes,

“No more Merigolds, Geralt. Our guest has to go.” More chuckles stirred around him, but he didn’t react from his hunched position, looking at the table.

That woman should be running from witchers. If she didn’t run from face value, she’d definitely run with a man riddled with rage and a torn past. Even if he wanted to pursue Y/n, there are multiple points in their courting where he knew she would run. He didn’t want to be fixed if she didn’t, and he knew those types. They think they can strut in and try to glue pieces back together. But it’s never right, and he is forced to break down the new image they tried to build. But there’s something more to her that makes him hesitate to brush her off completely. And the warmth he tried to deflect had gotten past those walls that kept his heart.