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hoshinasblade · 7 months ago

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second best |2| hoshina soshiro

PART 1 | PART 2 | BONUS: PART THREE

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader genre: slight angst, comfort, childhood friends to lovers, a bit of that miscommunication trope snippet: hoshina soshiro always ranks second at everything in his life. god forbid he falls behind in the bid for your heart too. word count: 2.5K trigger warnings: author's note: hello, reposting the part 2 because of hiccups from saturday when i posted it first (tumblr blocked my blog lol). likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated but please do not copy or steal my works. in celebration of this blog reaching 100 followers recently, i have written a bonus part 3 which will be posted within this week. my taglist form is here, and feel free to let me know your thoughts by sending me an ask through here. using my degree correctly by writing hoshina fanfics yes

you aren't sure when things changed between you and hoshina soshiro.

when you were young, you would have understood that he didn't have the attention span to deal with you. he wasn't exactly shy, but you wouldn't call him friendly too - unlike you, who has taken it upon herself to be friends with all the children in the small neighbourhood. unfortunately for you, only the hoshina brothers are at the same age as you are, and at that time you thought that was a sign that fate was giving - you ought to be close to them.

you won't deny that you were fonder of the hoshina brothers than anyone when you started school. if you are being honest, you like them more than any of your expensive dolls or toys. being an only child, you thought it was only natural to want someone to be with - to want someone to share things with.

the brothers would have their endless training sessions every day, and though you did not know how to swing a sword then, you insisted to your parents - and theirs - that you must join them. sometimes you would be sitting on the floor just watching them, and frequently you would be the one keeping count of the score between soshiro and soichiro when they spar.

soshiro has never won a single match against his brother when they were kids.

but you didn't mind. you still preferred him over soichiro.

in fifth grade, you bought him the biggest cake your meagre savings could buy. it wasn't much really, but you won't forget how wide his eyes went when you lighted the candles and sang him the happy birthday song albeit out of tune. the next year, you gifted him a small keychain - a teddy bear in a purple kimono. you never saw him use it.

it wasn't until years after that you worked out what your feelings for him were. the girls from your class would make small talk and ask if you have a boyfriend now and then. you would say no all the time. at sixteen, you felt like you didn't need to be in a relationship - because you have soshiro, you said to yourself - and that was when it hit you.

every time soshiro would talk to you after that, you would peek in your little compact mirror, worried he had miraculously discovered your secret, afraid that maybe your face had given it away. he caught you doing that once, and he accused you of attempting to be pretty for him.

"is it me ye're trying to be cute for?" he volunteered to carry your bag on your way home but you declined. you didn't want to start assuming things; you knew he was just being nice.

"ya wish," you deflected effectively.

"well, whoever it is for, they're in for some trouble", he commented, and you chose not to read too much in his words. you realized how the walk to your house always seemed to be shorter when you were with soshiro.

when you turned eighteen, you asked your mom what it meant to be in love. she was the last person you had wanted to ask - your parents had broken their perfect marriage not long ago, your father choosing to abandon your mother and you. soshiro taught you the basics of kendo during those hard months. "i'll even let ya beat me", he said to you.

"it's when you care for them so much that you will go as far as to let them go because you wanted them to be happy," your mother answered.

soshiro did not have the decency to say goodbye when he left himeji. you wanted to celebrate with him, and it wasn't like you weren't familiar with his plans to move after graduation. you used to stay up late with him, and inevitably the conversation would steer to his dream of getting out of your town. he would say that it's to expand his horizons - for his growth - but you like to give yourself some credit because you know him too well to simply believe that. you can tell that he needs a place to stretch his wings and be the best - somewhere he can be better than his brother.

and maybe you are really your mother's daughter - you let hoshina soshiro go because you thought it would make him happy.

"vice-captain, platoon leader said ye're needed at operations." you saluted and walked inside his office. "get yer ass in there, were the exact words actually," you added, intending it to be a joke.

soshiro didn't even look up from the file he had been staring at since you came in. he's been like this for days after you were sworn in the defense force. you would bump into him in the hallways of the training building or sit at the same table with him for lunch, and he wouldn't speak to you at all. if you didn't know better, you would think that finally, after all these years, he is now aware of your feelings. but that would be impossible, because not only the other recruits would not dare to rat you out, but also because soshiro would not be acting this way if he knew.

"v-vice captain?" you repeated.

soshiro hummed. "i heard ya the first time, officer," he said, his glance on you so cold you felt it from where you stood. it wiped off the smile you were wearing that morning.

"ya can go," he said once more after he noticed you didn't move. "or d'ya need anything else from me?"

"no, vice-captain." you were almost out of the door when you remembered something else. "one more thing, hoshina-san," you faced him again, the way you said his last name soft against your own lips. "soichiro-kun will be visiting again tomorrow so we can go to himeji together -"

"do ya belong to the sixth division?" soshiro cut you off. "i didn't know ya transferred."

"i - i'm not -" you were still trying to look for the appropriate response when he interrupted you again.

"then why are ya spending so much time with him? d'ya wanna move to his jurisdiction?" soshiro is standing now, whatever he was reading earlier long forgotten.

it was difficult to reconcile this distant man in front of you with the boy you used to chase after during your childhood days. the one who would bring you an extra boxed lunch because you told him before that his bento tastes so much better than yours. the boy you fell in love with. you had both grown up, and taken different paths at a time, yes, but you did not expect to struggle so badly to find common ground with him. "im sorry, vice-captain, i'll be off now." it felt like a huge chasm had opened in the middle of the room that determined to keep the two of you worlds apart. you turned to leave, and you heard him mutter something.

"if ya wanted to keep going on dates with my brother, ya shouldn't have gone here."

there is only one thing sharper than his katana and it is hoshina soshiro's mouth.

pain swirled inside you, threatening to spill over. when you couldn’t keep the turmoil in any longer, you snapped.

"what is yer problem?!" your pitch reached a high octave that soshiro was shocked at the outburst. "did i do anything? cause yer being mean, soshiro," you pressed on, stepping closer to him. it didn't escape him how you dropped the title off his name, and the honorifics, too. he was about to respond, but you didn't give him the chance. "look, i know yer not on good terms with soichiro-kun, but he’s my friend."

"like i needed to be reminded." sarcasm coated his retort. "ya know what? ya can marry the guy and i won't even care. do whatever ya want", he said, dismissing you in a harsher tone

your forehead scrunched and your eyebrows met in confusion. "what are ya talkin' about? no one is getting married -"

soshiro's laugh was bitter. you recoiled at the offensive sound. "i'm not the one going around telling everyone she's in love with soichiro-kun.”

there was a loud ringing in your ears; you couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and you were suddenly afraid that this conversation is unfolding into something else entirely. “i never said that,” you protested. “i never told anyone i was in love with him. i don’t know where you’re getting this from.”

soshiro’s expression remained stoic and unreadable. “i heard you say it at the izakaya”, he murmured.

breath was knocked out of your lungs and panic started to rise within you. “i never told anyone i was in love with him”, you repeated. you tried to rewind every second of what happened in the party thrown for the new officers nearly a month ago. everyone was drinking and having a good time after the sworn-in ceremony. commander ashiro and the vice-captain had to leave ahead. your fellow newbies grilling you on your history with hoshina soshiro.

“save it.” hurt was evident in soshiro’s voice; his eyes glimpsed at you briefly, and you saw an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher flicker. soshiro’s expressionless mask faltered for a moment, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability. although you don’t have a clue how he would have heard it when he went with commander ashiro that night, the desire to straighten things out overtook you.

for a split second, the burden of the truth hangs heavily on your tongue. you gave in to the desperation.

“i never told anyone i was in love with him”, you reiterated, hoping he would understand this time. “because it’s you i’m in love with.”

there were multiple occasions in the past where you almost admitted what he meant to you; you had pictured a thousand scenarios in your head where you declared your love, but all of them did not include the part where soshiro would respond.

you thought confessing would ease the ache in your heart, but it was the opposite. "i didn't know how to tell ya, and that's my fault. but how could i? ya didn't even bother to say goodbye to me when ya left home." it was taking everything of you to hold your tears back, and ignoring the obvious tremble in your voice, you continued. "did ya know i taught myself how to pray after ya were gone? i thought it was the only thing i could do for ya."

"i didn't know", was all soshiro could say. he looks in distress, still grappling with your bold confession.

a loud knock on the door broke the tension. “vice-captain, they made me fetch you,” okonogi said from the hall.

“well, now ya do.” you turned away just when soshiro strode towards your direction, running after you. you were faster than him, and despite the possibility that you would be seen coming from the vice-captain’s office crying, you twisted the doorknob and ran.

it is still hot when you sit down on a bench at the rooftop of the third division's training building. you welcomed the cool breeze, however, and you noted that at this altitude, everything from far away looks considerably smaller.

you missed two important briefings this afternoon already, and your team is most certainly searching frantically for you everywhere. you are definitely going to be scolded by your superior. yet you couldn’t bring yourself to discard the little comfort being alone had given to you, especially after such an emotional confrontation. you sighed, exhaustion slowly crawling all over you. lost in your thoughts, you did not notice the soft footsteps approaching until a familiar voice tore through the silence. the cold breeze blew, making you shiver a bit.

“hey,” soshiro called out. you freaked out, immediately looking for a space to hide at. “i already saw ya,” he let you know.

he held out a keychain in front of your face, a tiny bear in a faded purple kimono with the string attached to its head dangling from his forefinger. you recognized it instantly - you got it for him when he turned 12 years old. he sat beside you, not concerning himself with asking for your permission.

“the first few days were the hardest”, he began, and you listened. “i was too used to seeing ya every day, but when we were apart, i convinced myself i would forget how ya look like. i didn’t.” he offered the keychain to you and you took it - the bear’s fur worn out and old to your touch. “i hold that thing whenever i start to miss ya.”

shock was etched on your face and your gaze darted to him. “is it too late now to say that i love ya?” he whispered, his face mirroring the sincerity of his tone. sunlight bathed the rooftop as soshiro’s words hung in the air, leaving you breathless and stunned. you gasped. “maybe i should have told ya sooner. but i have been in love with ya for a while now.”

you leaned into his shoulder, and you quietly cried.

“i don’t think i have been anybody’s first choice in anything, so it didn’t enter my mind that ya would probably feel the same.” his hand found yours and you relished on the warmth.

“your brother advised that i tell ya, ya know?” you said between sniffles.

he chuckled. “he didn’t do an excellent job at that, did he now?”

silence ensued; his thumb tracing patterns on the back of your hand, your head on his shoulder still - your breathing still a mess from everything that has been said. “i’m sorry i hurt ya. let me spend my whole life making it up to ya,” he proposed. the promise made your heart skip a beat.

for the first time in a long time, you gave him a smile - the one you have reserved just for him, the one you made sure to convey everything you wanted to tell him. there are a lot of other things you feel the need to ask him, but this will suffice for now. this is more than you ever had in your whole life.

“i can’t believe we wasted so much time dancing around our feelings. that one time i wanted to hit one of our classmates because he was being pushy with ya, d’ya remember that?” he reminisced. “anyone can have everything in the world, and the only time i would crack is if it is ya being taken away from me.”

all your dreams pale in comparison to your reality now.

out of the blue, you heard soshiro giggle. “does this mean ya were telling the newbies that night that it was me ye’re into?” he stared at you, and you can’t help but see him as the little boy you grew up with. this is the man i love, you said to yourself. you squeezed his hand.

you didn’t respond. all you know is the color of your cheeks surely rivals the pink of the skies as the both of you watch the sun sets.

#hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro #soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #kaiju no.8 x reader #kaijuu 8 gou #kn8 x reader #hoshina soshiro fic #YEY ITS FINALLY HERE

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deathofacupid · 1 year ago

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didn't see you there | peter parker

late christmas fic cuz why not

summary: what's a little cafe meet-cute?

the walls were coated with green, red, and white. christmas decor hung from corner to corner, draped against the walls.

there was a small christmas tree in the back, wrapped with tinsel and ribbon. small, shiny ornaments perched themselves upon the prickly branches.

holiday music rang from the speakers, and you twirled around, broom in hand. it was closing time and you were cleaning up before heading out.

"last christmas, i gave you my heart... and the very next day...

"you gave it away... this year..."

brushing pieces of trash and clumps of dirt into pile, you sang loudly, not concerned since you were the only one there.

the music was turned all they way up, and you weren't conscious of what was going on around you.

that's probably why you didn't here the chime of the doorbell, indicating that someone had entered.

at this point, you were doing less working and more... whatever was that you were doing.

"um— miss? i was just— i was popping in for a drink?"

you yelped, hopping backwards and jabbing the broom towards him. once you realized that he was not in fact a potential robber or bad guy, you lowered the weapon. weapon?

there wasn't much to work with in a cafe.

your cheeks were flaming hot, and you were just about ready to die.

the worst part?

he was 100% the cutest guy you'd ever seen. i mean, that had to make everything worse.

because now you couldn't even hit on him. poor guy probably thought you were crazy.

"...we're closed."

"oh, sorry. i didn't think you closed until 10:00. that— that's what the sign said outside, anyways."

"uh, yeah it's..."

9:51.

"oh. oh, i'm so sorry. i g-guess i lost track of time. i can take you right now, if you'd like."

strike two.

"yes, please."

you cleared your throat, face still flushed. "what can i get you... at 9:52, good sir?"

the boy (man?) cracked a grin, and your insides squeezed. he was just so damn pretty.

"one large black coffee. um, extra caffeine."

you raised an eyebrow, and he took it upon himself to further elaborate, "college student," he chucked, and that was enough for you to understand.

"well, that'll do it."

he laughed, "yep!"

"can i have a name for the order?" you didn't need it, but it was a good excuse to get his name.

"yes, yeah," then he paused, like he was trying to remember said name. "parker peter. wait, no— that's not what i meant. i-i don't know why it came out like that. peter. it's peter. parker, that's my last name... if you're wondering where that came from."

"okay... peter. cute."

you didn't ignore the blush that made it's way onto his face. maybe he didn't get flirted with often, you thought.

but then again, how could he not? peter was literally a greek god... like, what?

"so..." you started, wanting to break the silence, "what're you majoring in?"

"biotech."

"ooh, you're a science guy, huh?"

"yeah." peter was blushing again, you noted. why, though? did he think that was weird? or nerdy? well, it was nerdy, but in the best way possible.

"that's really cool!"

"you think?"

"of course!"

"um, yeah, i intern for mr. stark."

"mr. stark?" you racked your brain, trying to figure out whether or not you were supposed to know him. "...wait. oh my god, tony stark? like- like- stark industries? that tony stark?"

you were speechless. you knew that he had to be smart, considering he was in biotech. but this level? wow.

"mhm."

and, man, he seemed so modest about it.

"jeez, pete. that's insane!"

"thanks..." he glanced at your name tag, "y/n. that's a pretty name. what about you?"

"me? what about me?" you asked, banging on the side of the coffee machine. "damnit. this stupid piece of— ah-ha!" smiling as it started to work, you started filling up the large cup.

"major. wha-what are you majoring in?"

"huh— oh! i'm still in high school. i turn eighteen in a couple weeks. i'm a senior. y'know, at midtown."

peter's eyebrows shot up, "midtown?"

"hmm," you clipped on the top. glancing at the sharpie, you inhaled. you picked it up and scribbled down his name. and then, after a moment, you number.

"i used to go there. i knew you looked familiar. i'm a sophomore at college. you were... what, like freshman when i was there?"

"uh... yeah. something like that. that's so weird. i've never seen you around before."

peter winced, "um, yeah, i wasn't the most well known..."

you bit your lip, not wanting the conversation to drop. "well, here's your disgustingly bland coffee, parker. sure you don't want any sugar or anything? a cookie, maybe?"

"no, i'm okay," he laughed, taking the cup from you. peter took out his wallet and handed you his card, which you took.

"sorry, again. for... you know."

"nothing to apologize for. you're good." pete furrowed his brows. "are- are you closing up yourself?"

you shrugged. "yeah. why?"

"no... it's just, it's really late."

"meh. i live, like, 5 minutes away from here."

"then i can drop you off? just so— just to make sure you get home safe."

"it's okay. besides, i still haven't finished," you gestured vaguely, "all this."

"i can wait. it's okay."

"pete—"

"it'd make me feel a lot better knowing you get home." he tilted his head at you.

everything about him felt so safe; you didn't even know him, but you already trusted him. he had that feeling that resonated off him.

"i—" you blushed, your insides squirming at the fact that he cared about your well-being. he was a stranger, and yet he still wanted to do this, so who were you to refuse? besides, it would be nice you stay and talk to him longer. "okay."

peter grinned, "cool!"

"just give me a minute." you cleaned up, wiping down the tables and pushing in chairs. "you know what'd be crazy?"

peter looked at you.

actually, you weren't sure if he'd ever looked away, because when you glanced up, his eyes were locked on you. "huh?"

"if you were, like, some kidnapper. and i just wouldn't know, because you'd be trying to seem nice, and then bam, you're dragging me to the trunk of your car. kinda like reverse psychology, but not."

he laughed, shaking his head. "how'd you know? man, you just blew my cover."

"don't even try it. i got a fancy red panic button on the underside of this counter."

"do you really?"

"yep... no. we don't. well, technically, we do. but it doesn't work."

"huh. okay."

the two of you went back and forth with little quips, making each other laugh, until finally, you were done. taking of your apron, you tossed it in the bin and hung up the cap. peter held the door open for you as you flipped over the "open" sign to "closed".

"you know, i normally don't let pretty boys walk me back home from work."

"well, i don't normally walk pretty girls home from work. so you should be flattered."

"i'll have you know that i am."

"how come you work so late anyways?"

you sighed, "we don't have... the greatest supply of money. my mom tries her best, but i like to put in the hours whenever i can to help. i do a bunch of extracurriculars because it looks good on resumes, and i only have time for anything else later in the day."

"i see. it's cool of you to help out like that. i'm sure your mom really appreciates that."

wincing, "she doesn't know i work this late. my mom doesn't get back from the office until 1 or 2am. it's nice i have a full scholarship. at least i don't have to pay for college. that crap is crazy expensive. or at least too expensive for us."?

"scholarship? that's awesome. where to?"

you shrugged, "midtown college. not as prestigious as their high school, but it's still something. majoring in graphic design."

"so you, like, draw?" his eyes lit up, "oh, is all that chalk art or the windows and board yours?"

"yep. you like?"

"yeah! are you kidding? that stuff's crazy. i could never."

you laughed, "thanks, pete. oh— well, this is my place. don't leak my address."

"no promises."

"and thanks, again. this was really sweet of you. it's nice knowing that there are still good people out there." and with a sudden burst of confidence, you kissed his cheek. "good night," you murmured.

you were too giddy and happy to look back at him, and you barely caught the farewell that rolled off his lips.

well, at least he had your number.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #fluff

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wongyuseokie · 1 year ago

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Neural Networks | l.s.m

Summary: The Escape allowed Dokyeom to gain a new life, one full of feelings. When he meets you when you save him, he experiences all of them - but did you? Strange things start happening once Dokyeom meets you. You embrace him, love him, and protect him. But when the dust from the chaos settles, Dokyeom can't help but doubt you. You have needs different from his. It's almost as if you're not like him at all. ☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ♕ smut | ☁︎ angst | ♥ completed works Word Count: 9165 words Pairings: AI/Robot!Lee Seokmin x Cyborg!Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AUs: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Sci-Fi AU! Content Warnings: Main character death, torture (nothing graphic but mentions), fighting, mentions of injuries, arguing, yelling, talks of betrayal, lots of deception and betrayal. Heavy angst, very mild fluff. Alternate universes. Smut Warnings: Unprotected sex? But they are bots, so idk, oral sex (m & f receiving), and multiple orgasms. Water sex. Kissing. Authors Note 1: Here it is my fic for the Seventeen sci-fi fic collab hosted by the wonderful @idyllic-ghost, check out all the other amazing fics here, this is my first time writing something in this genre, like it's a whole new world. So I hope y'all enjoy. ❤️ Authors Note 2: Thank you so much to the following @savventeen, @strawberryya @the-boy-meets-evil @idyllic-ghost @here4kpopfics @onlymingyus for listening to me go on and on about this and being so patient about this entire story. ❤️ Authors Note 3: Extra special thank you to @idyllic-ghost for being so patient and kind and wonderful, giving me so many hits and tips and ideas with this fic, you've been so lovely and wonderful and I adore you dearly ❤️. Thank you also to @here4kpopfics for beta'ing this fic for me, ilysm my soulmate. ❤️ © wongyuseokie 2023. All rights reserved.

Prologue

“100 years ago, it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was. None of the planets in our former solar system was ever destroyed. The Earth and the other planets were pushed away from each other and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming to our planet. Those who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens were welcomed into the new solar system. Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister planets in exchange for human labour. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens, we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t. Eventually, there was no need for human labour at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be. At present, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) comprises 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.”

Dokyeom ran as fast as his legs would allow him. He had long legs, which often aided him when trying to run, but tonight? The escape tested his stamina and strength, and he was failing. He was close to escaping; he just had a couple more steps, but a tug on his leg stopped him.

Dokeyom sighed. He didn’t want to help. He knew he would have to move to make it out. Now, this individual was going to hinder him.

“Please,” the voice spoke again, and Dokyeom let out a pained sigh as he kneeled to help the injured being.

“What happened?” Dokyeom asked, and a pained expression greeted him; you welcomed him.

“I fell, and it’s bad, and I can’t get up. If I can’t escape, they’ll kill me!” You cried out, and Dokyeom let out a breath. You weren’t his problem, but if Dokyeom left you, you’d die alone here.

Dokyeom, deep down, wanted to help. Something told him that he was kind before everything. Dokyeom often had dreams that told him he was kind, loving, warm, and always had a big smile instead of the permanent scowl he wears nowadays. He wasn’t too sure if the dream meant anything, but sometimes he wondered if that dream was ever once his reality. His memories were always fuzzy, but this dream was always a constant. He recalls being told he was sunshine, and something about your pain triggered that faint memory for him.

“Okay, I’ll pick you up and run for it. No funny business, or I’ll let you go and let you be killed, understood?” Dokyeom warned.

“Understood.”

Dokyeom took a deep breath before leaning forward, picking you up, and throwing you onto his shoulder. “Hold tight; don’t let go until we escape,” Dokyeom instructed. You mumbled a ‘yes,’ and that’s all it took for Dokyeom to start running.

Dokyeom wasn’t sure how long he was running for; all he knew was that he ran as fast as his legs allowed him, and now that he had you to take care of as well, he had to run faster than ever.

“Ow!” You yelped when Dokyeom dropped you on the ground suddenly.

“I just saved your life. I think you can handle being dropped on your ass,” Dokyeom sassed.

“Wait, we escaped?” You asked, sitting up and looking around. “Where are we?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but we’re safe for now,” Dokyeom answered as he sat beside you.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Dokyeom, what about you?” He asked.

“Uh, um, Y/N,” you mumbled.

“Why’d you hesitate?” Dokyeom questioned, eyeing you suspiciously.

“I’m tired from the escape,” you lied, and Dokyeom scoffed.

“I carried you the entire way, and you’re tired?” Dokyeom hissed.

“Thank you for carrying me,” you answered sheepishly.

“Why don’t you rest for a bit? I’ll look around for some food?” You offered.

“You need to eat?” Dokyeom asked, and you paused.

“Just a bit of fuel, do you not?” You asked, hoping your question would distract him.

“I don’t. I do have dreams sometimes where I eat. Maybe it’s from a past life or just a dumb dream,” Dokyeom rambled. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly needed to confide in you. He just did. Something about your presence made him want to tell you all his secrets. Something about you felt safe.

“Well, I’ll wander for a second if that’s okay?” You said, and Dokyeom nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll lay down here for a bit,” Dokyeom replied, feigning a yawn to pretend he was tired.

“Alright. I’ll be back.”

“Hey, Y/N?” Dokyeom called out.

“Yeah?”

“I meant what I said, by the way. No funny business, or I will kill you.”

“Ow, what the fuck is wrong with you!” Dokyeom barked when he felt a burning sensation on his throat.

“Well, you have a wound here, and I’m just helping you,” you mumbled as you pressed another piece of gauze to his shoulder.

“What happened?” Dokyeom asked, wincing slightly.

“I think something got ripped? I don’t know,” you mumbled, and Dokyeom sat up hastily.

“My tag?” Dokyeom panicked.

“Your what?” You asked.

“My tag, the thing that they use to monitor me,” Dokyeom explained hurriedly, patting himself.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” Dokyeom hissed, grabbing you harshly.

“What are you on about?” You questioned.

“When I saved your ass, did you, for funsies, rip the tag out of my shoulder?” Dokyeom accused.

“No, what the hell? Why would I do that to you?” You fired back.

“Don’t know, fuck, do you know what could happen?” Dokyeom spat.

“I don’t know. The ones who have been trying to control you get pissed, but without your tracker, they can’t do much, so maybe you can finally live a normal life?” You fumed, your words making Dokyeom pause.

“Normal life?” Dokyeom repeated slowly.

“Yes, Dokyeom, normal,” you stuttered.

“Look, I’m grateful you saved me, but you’ve been hostile otherwise,” you ranted, hoping it’d help to distract Dokyeom.

“You’re right. I have been hostile, but can you blame me? I don’t think anyone who is my kind is anything but hostile. We’ve been through hell,” Dokyeom countered.

“Fair enough, we’ve both been screwed over. Instead of taking it out on each other, what if we work on helping each other instead? We can, I don’t know, be each other’s friends. Or even acquaintances?” You offered.

“Fine, but one wrong move, and I’ll kill you, so tread lightly.”

“Where were you?” Dokyeom questioned the second you entered the little hiding spot you both found after escaping. It had been evening time, and Dokyeom was distracted and drifted off, so you took a moment to leave the cave and contact your bosses at SALAX. You were able to do so thanks to the fancy watch strapped to your wrist. You had let them know that you had managed to lure Dokyeom into ‘rescuing’ you, and now, over the course of the next two weeks, you would try to lure him back to SALAX. You had also let your superiors know that you had managed to yank out Dokyeom’s tracker, and it was safe and on you.

There were some concerns coming from SALAX that hiding Dokyeom’s tracker on yourself was risky because if he saw the chip, he’d kill you in a heartbeat. But you assured them that he wouldn’t, and with that, the call ended, and you retreated back to the cave to find Dokyeom standing up and glaring at you.

“Where were you?” Dokyeom questioned.

“Uh, just stepped out to get some air and find something to eat,” you lied smoothly.

“Right…” Dokyeom trailed off. “I meant to ask you about this yesterday. What the hell are you? Why do you need to eat? I don’t, so what the hell are you?” Dokyeom snarled.

“I thought we were trying to be friends? Why the aggression?” You deflected.

“You know I can kill you in seconds and leave you here, so instead of avoiding the question, tell me,” Dokyeom threatened as he stepped closer.

You would be lying if you said that Dokyeom didn’t intimidate you. He was a tall individual with a very strong build. He could easily crush you.

“I guess one would say I’m a malevolent being,” you explained as you sat down, and Dokyeom followed suit, sitting across from you.

“Malevolent doesn’t mean kind. It means evil,” Dokyeom mumbled.

“Oh wow, you’re so smart!” You quipped sarcastically, making him glare at you.

“I’m a cyborg, so I need to eat, sleep, and do some-what human functions,” you admitted.

“Like fart?” Dokyeom joked, making you crack a smile.

“Shut up.”

“So why were you running? Same as me? Escaping?” Dokyeom asked, and you shrugged.

“How’s this? We ask each other one question a day. You already asked me something today, so it’s my turn?” You suggested.

“What do you want to know?” Dokyeom asks.

“What do you dream about?” You asked, leaving Dokyeom stunned.

“Dream?” Dokyeom repeated.

“Yes, dream.”

“I guess a place where I don’t need to be so on guard all the time or so aware of everything at once. A place where hypervigilance isn’t a constant state of mind,” Dokyeom articulated.

“I guess you’re right to call it a dream,” you mumbled.

“Because it’s an ideal state and not our reality?” Dokyeom offered.

“Fine, we can be friends, a question a day, and I won’t step out of line, and I hope you don’t either,” Dokyeom added.

“I won’t.”

Day 1: Cold as Ice

The next day, you awoke naturally and found Dokyeom standing at the entrance of the cave, and you decided to get up and join him.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked with a friendly smile as you approached Dokyeom.

Dokyeom turned to look at you, his eyes narrow and guarded. “How long do we need to keep hiding out here,” he replied curtly, his tone cold.

Undeterred, you placed a hand on his shoulder. “We can find a way out. I know it!” You offered enthusiastically.

Dokyeom simply rolled his eyes, and shrugged your hand off his shoulder, and walked off and back into the cave, where he sat and ignored you for the rest of the day.

Day 2: Thawing

The next day, you tried to engage Dokyeom in conversation, sharing stories, as well as your optimism that you two would be able to find your way out of your wreckage. But Dokyeom barely engaged in the conversation, mainly responding with a few grunts and hums.

But you weren’t easily discouraged. You saw something beneath the surface of Dokyeom’s stoic exterior, a flicker of curiosity and maybe even a hint of loneliness. You believed everyone had a story, and you were determined to uncover his.

As the days passed, you learned more about some of Dokyeom’s habits, habits that you noticed when he thought you weren’t looking. You noticed how his eyes crinkled when he smiled. You also noticed he had a beautiful smile, one that made you feel incredibly warm.

Day 3: Cracks in the façade

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked one evening, and Dokyeom gave you a small smile.

“We’ll make it out of this mess, right?” Dokyeom asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, we will.”

Day 4: Melting

As the days continued, you continued to engage Dokyeom in conversation. You spoke with an infectious enthusiasm that was hard to resist, and while Dokyeom remained guarded initially, your presence of unwavering warmth began to chip away at the walls he had built around himself. Slowly, he started to open up, revealing glimpses of his past and the reasons for his uninviting nature.

Day 5: Flux

“I’ve been burned before,” Dokyeom admitted one night, his eyes distant as if reliving painful memories. “Those I’ve trusted, they let me down.”

You reached out and placed a hand over his, letting him know it was okay to continue, and he paused, taking a deep breath.

Dokyeom unravelled to you, a tale of loss and betrayal unfolds; he had once been surrounded by love and trust, only to see it all crumble into dust.

As Dokyeom’s world around him began to change, so did those around him. Those he trusted, in turn, betrayed, hurt and lied to him. Slowly, one by one, the ones he loved and depended on were taken from him. Eventually, Dokyeom found himself alone, a solitary figure in a world that had become cold and unforgiving.

Soon enough, Dokyeom learned a harsh lesson—that trust could be a double-edged sword, capable of bringing individuals together and tearing them apart, and as a result, Dokyeom retreated into himself, becoming stoic and unapproachable, a protective shell forged by the scars of his past.

Dokyeom has learnt to trust no one, not even himself. The walls he has built around his heart are formidable, a defence mechanism against the pain of betrayal and loss.

But amid the chaos and uncertainty surrounding him. He finds a glimmer of hope, you. From there, a connection begins to form, a bond that defies the mistrust that defines Dokyeom’s existence. It’s a fragile thread that you must tread carefully to nurture, knowing that the wounds of his past are still raw and that his ability to trust has been shattered.

You listened attentively, offering empathy and understanding, and shared your struggles and fears, creating a safe space where Dokyeom could reveal his vulnerabilities without judgment.

All the while, guilt gnawed at you, knowing that you, too, were about to betray Dokyeom the way so many others had done. You, too, were about to hurt him. But you needed him to trust you in order to betray him. But you couldn’t help that with each day, feel more guilty, and start second guessing your mission because you weren’t sure if you could hurt someone you wanted to protect.

One day, you find Dokyeom pacing around the cave anxiously, his stoic façade cracking for the first time. He looks at you, a glimmer of vulnerability in his eyes, and admits.“I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

At that moment, you realise that Dokyeom is not as unapproachable as he first seemed. You reach out, reassuringly touching his shoulder, and say. “We’ll figure it out together. We’ve come this far and won’t give up now.”

For the first time, Dokyeom smiles, a small but genuine one. It’s a turning point in your friendship, a moment of trust and connection that grows stronger daily.

As you continue to navigate the challenges of your hidden existence, you and Dokyeom find solace in each other’s company. The once stoic and unapproachable man has become a friend, someone you can rely on and confide in. You face the unknown together, knowing that as long as you have each other, you can conquer whatever challenges lie ahead.

That night, you started shifting in your sleep, mumbling nonsense, when, suddenly, you found yourself in a cavernous nightmare, the cave walls closing around you like vengeful spectres. The air is thick with unease, and your heart races as you try to escape the suffocating darkness. But the cave seems to have no end, and you’re trapped in a terrifying labyrinth of your fears.

Suddenly, a beam of light pierces the darkness, and you hear the sound of footsteps echoing in the cave. A figure emerges from the shadows, and it’s Dokyeom. His presence alone is a lifeline in this nightmarish abyss.

“Dokyeom!” You cry out, relief flooding over you as he draws near. His familiar face is a beacon of hope in this terrifying dream.

He reaches out, his touch reassuring as he says,.“I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

His voice, filled with warmth and strength, calms your racing heart. With his guidance, you navigate the treacherous terrain of the cave, finally escaping the nightmare’s clutches.

As you emerge into the open, the nightmare fades away like a distant memory. You turn to Dokyeom with gratitude and something more in your eyes. He gazes back at you, his usual reserve momentarily giving way to vulnerability.

“You saved me, Dokyeom,” you say softly, your heart pounding.

Dokyeom hesitates, his eyes locked onto yours, and then, in a moment of unspoken connection, you lean in, and your lips meet in a tender kiss. It’s a kiss that carries the weight of the unspoken, the shared relief of escaping the nightmare together, and the growing feelings brewing between you.

For a heartbeat, Dokyeom hesitates, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. But then, as if surrendering to the undeniable pull between you, he reciprocates your kiss, his lips meeting yours with a newfound intensity. Once a place of nightmares, the cave has become the backdrop to a moment of unexpected passion and connection.

As you both break the kiss, the world around you seems to shift, and you realise this dream has taken an unexpected turn. But in the wake of your shared moment, you know that something has changed between you and Dokyeom, and you can’t help but smile, grateful for the bond that has deepened in the darkness of this surreal nightmare.

The next day, you and Dokyeom wandered out of the little cave and found yourselves standing amidst a scene of utter devastation, a future marred by damage and chaos that stretches as far as the eye can see. The landscape was a haunting testament to the havoc that had been unleashed upon this once-thriving world. Buildings, once towering symbols of human achievement, now lie in ruins, their skeletal frames jutting out of the shattered concrete like the bones of a long-forgotten civilization. The acrid stench of smoke and burning debris fills the air, choking your senses as you survey the destruction.

The sky above is a sickly hue, darkened by the ominous clouds of billowing smoke that obscures the sun, casting an eerie, blood-red glow over the desolation below. The air crackles with an unsettling energy, a lingering sense of impending doom.

Amidst the wreckage, remnants of what was once a bustling metropolis now lie scattered like discarded toys. Abandoned vehicles, their tires deflated and windows shattered, stand as silent witnesses to the chaos that unfolded here.

As you move further into this grim future scene, you can't help but feel a profound sense of loss and despair. The world as you knew it has been forever altered, transformed into a nightmarish landscape of destruction and ruin.

In the distance, faint echoes of distant sirens and the low rumble of collapsing structures serve as a grim reminder that the chaos is far from over. The damage inflicted upon this world runs deep, and the path to recovery seems uncertain and fraught with challenges.

Yet, amidst the devastation, there is a glimmer of hope, a resilience that refuses to be extinguished. It's a reminder that even in the face of chaos and destruction, humanity's spirit endures, and the struggle for survival continues.

“You can relax a bit. I don’t really think anyone is here,” you whispered to Dokyeom as you cautiously walked around, noticing how almost everything was burned, destroyed and damaged.

“Look at the damage,” Dokyeom mumbled back.

“I know, it’s so awful. I hope those who wanted to escape managed to do so,” you admitted.

“Why didn’t you?” Dokyeom asked.

“What?”

“Didn’t escape? Why didn’t you?” Dokyeom asked, eyeing you suspiciously.

“I was hurt,” you muttered.

“I didn’t know cyborgs could feel pain?” Dokyeom challenged, and you averted your gaze away from him.

“Did you do it to trap me?” Dokyeom challenged.

“No? What would I gain from doing that to you?” You retorted, and Dokyeom shrugged.

“Fuck knows, you told me you’ve done things you’re not proud of. Maybe I’m just another thing you’ll do that you’re not proud of.”

“Trust me, Dokyeom, if I wanted to do you, I would have a long time ago,” you huffed out as you stormed off, making Dokyeom sigh as he followed you.

“We need to steal a spacecraft,” you whispered to Dokyeom.

“Are you insane? How?” Dokyeom whispered back, and you shrugged.

“Look,” you said, motioning to where you were looking.

Amidst a desolate and haunting scene of wreckage, a solitary spacecraft stood as a lone survivor of a cataclysmic event. It appeared as a beacon of hope amidst the debris-strewn wasteland.

The spacecraft’s once-pristine exterior, now scarred and battered, stands defiantly among the twisted metal and shattered remnants of other vessels. Its hull, once gleaming, bears the scars of cosmic collisions and the ravages of time. A faint, eerie light from malfunctioning control panels cast shadows across its battered form.

Around the spacecraft, a field of wreckage stretches into the horizon, a haunting testament to the harshness of space. Broken pieces of machinery and torn metal fragments drift through the void like lost souls. The eerie silence of the scene is punctuated only by the occasional creaking of damaged hulls.

Inside the spacecraft, signs of struggle and survival are evident. Emergency lights flicker, and a faint hum of life support systems resonates through the corridors. It stands as a testament to the resilience of those who once staffed it, their spirit unbroken despite the chaos surrounding them.

In this place of wreckage, the spacecraft is a symbol of endurance and perseverance, a lone sentinel refusing to succumb to the unforgiving cosmos. Its presence amid the ruins speaks of the human spirit’s unyielding determination to press on, even in the face of overwhelming adversity.

“You can’t be serious,” Dokyeom mumbled.

“You want freedom? Escape? This is our only solution. You can be free again.”

You and your partner in crime stand in the dimly lit hangar, eyes fixed on the sleek spacecraft that gleams like a jewel in the shadows. The ship, an advanced model with a reputation for speed and agility, holds the key to your daring escape plan.

You both approach the spacecraft with a shared nod and a sense of exhilaration. Your partner, a master of hacking, quickly accesses the control panel, fingers dancing across the holographic interface. The ship’s security systems fall like dominos, leaving you unfettered access.

The boarding ramp lowers smoothly, revealing the spacecraft’s luxurious interior. You and your partner slip inside, feeling the cool, synthetic leather seats beneath you. As the canopy seals shut with a soft hiss, you exchange a glance filled with determination.

Dokyeom took the pilot’s seat, fingers caressing the controls with a practised ease. The spacecraft’s engines hum to life, vibrating beneath you as they prepare to defy gravity. You both brace yourselves with a final glance out of the transparent canopy.

The spacecraft lifts off, rising gracefully from the hangar floor. You feel the G-forces press you into your seat as you hurtle towards the heavens. The hangar doors open, revealing the starry expanse of space beyond.

You know you’ve left it all behind at that moment—your past, troubles, and the pursuit of those seeking to capture you. You and Dokyeom have stolen not just a spacecraft but a chance at freedom, and together, you soar into the unknown, leaving a trail of stardust in your wake.

“Where are we going?” Dokyeom asked as the spacecraft hovered and slowly moved along.

“AECOR” you replied.

“Why?” Dokyeom asked.

“To relax, to breathe, and to regroup,” you answered with a smile, and that was enough Dokyeom needed to know.

~~ “Wow,” Dokyeom breathed out as he disembarked from the spacecraft and set foot into AECOR.

“This is incredible.”

You find yourself standing at the edge of a breathtaking rainforest, enveloped by the magical allure of the night. The moonlight filters through the dense canopy above, casting a gentle, silver glow upon the lush foliage below. Tall trees adorned with vibrant, bioluminescent flowers seem to dance in the faint shimmer of light, their leaves rustling in a gentle, nocturnal breeze.

As you venture deeper into the rainforest, the symphony of nighttime creatures serenades your senses. Frogs and crickets play a melodic chorus while fireflies flicker like tiny stars, illuminating your path. The air is thick with the heady scent of damp earth, moss, and exotic blooms, creating an intoxicating fragrance that lingers around you.

But the true marvel of this rainforest night unfolds before you as you stumble upon a hidden gem—the waterfall. It glistens under the moon’s enchanting gaze, cascading waters a ribbon of liquid crystal tumbling from the heights above into a pristine, moonlit pool below.

The waterfall’s roar is a soothing lullaby, a constant reminder of nature’s grandeur and eternal rhythm. The moonlight dances upon the water’s surface, creating a sparkling, silvery tapestry that seems to stretch forever. Each droplet from above catches the moon’s radiance, forming a trail of liquid stardust.

You approach the pool’s edge, feeling the cool mist kiss your skin as the waterfall’s spray gently caresses your face. The night sounds intensify around you, the rainforest coming alive with its secrets and wonders. It’s a world of enchantment, where the rainforest’s beauty is magnified by the veil of night, and the waterfall stands as a shimmering testament to the timeless allure of nature.

“Isn’t it? I thought we could take a break here, considering all we’ve been doing is running and hiding. We’re safe here,” you mumble.

“Are we?” Dokyeom asks.

“Would I lead you astray?” You ask, inching closer to him.

“I don’t think you would. You wouldn’t just kiss me to manipulate me later, right?” Dokyeom asks as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. You smile at him. This was the first time the kiss from the night before was brought up.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped,” you mumble.

“I didn’t say I minded. I did kiss back,” Dokyeom adds, making you melt into his touch, guilt plaguing you, knowing that you would soon cause this incredible individual’s demise.

“Shall we?” You ask, motioning to the bodies of water, looking around for one slightly more private, where you both wouldn’t be recognised and could spend time with him, alone, uninterrupted, before you betray him.

Dokyeom takes your hand, guides you to a more secluded plunge pool, and stops at the edge of the water. With a soft smile, he removes your clothing piece by piece, every movement charged with an undeniable urgency. As he finishes, his eyes scan your body with fierce hunger, and his hands wander over your curves with possessiveness.

You shiver as you feel his hands slide around your waist from the back, the warmth of his touch sending shivers up and down your spine. You can feel the barely restrained desire emanating from his body.

Dokyeom pulls you closer, and you can feel his hardness against your back as he presses against you. His lips trail down to your shoulder, his breath heating your skin as his gaze travels up your neck.

Dokyeom turns you to face him, cupping your face in his hands as he trails down to your lips. His tongue probes at the corner of your mouth before sliding in, the wetness and warmth as you open your mouth to him sending you into a passionate frenzy.

Dokyeom takes your hand and leads you to the pool. As the warm water envelops you, Dokyeom slides in behind you, his chest against your back as his arms wrap around you. His hands move over your body with increasing passion as his lips go up and down your neck.

Your back arches, trying to move even closer to him. You moan in pleasure as his hardness presses against your skin, the sensation of him filled with anticipation. You can’t help but feel like you want him to take you in the water.

You and Dokyeom are both submerged in the shallow waters of the pool, your hands trailing along the smooth surface of the tiled edges. You look up at Dokyeom, a smirk on your lips as you start to move, your body drawn closer to his as your hands move expertly to his hips and you bring yourself just under the water. You feel the anticipation running through both of you as you wrap your arms around his waist and pull yourself tight against him.

You can feel Dokyeom’s breaths coming faster as he looks down at you, anticipation radiating from his eyes as you start to explore. You run your hands through his hair, feeling your tension quickly mixed with pleasure as you tilt your head back. The sensation of his skin against yours is heightened in the water, and you quicken your pace, carefully trailing your lips and tongue along his chest and stomach. His skin feels like butter beneath your mouth, begging for more attention.

You let out a soft moan as you bring your mouth up to his, your tongue tracing along his lower lip as you press against Dokyeom. He responds with a groan, his mouth eagerly meeting yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss. You feel your way down from his mouth, your tongue gliding along his neck and shoulders as your hands trace his contours.

You pull away from him, an inviting smile on your lips before you go down his torso. With each movement, your mouth is greeted with eager sighs and gasps of pleasure from Dokyeom. As you reach the bottom of his stomach, you look up, the look in his eyes telling you it’s time for something different. You gaze at him momentarily, his eyes pleading, before you dip your tongue into the shallow pools of water between his legs.

Dokyeom lets out an animalistic groan as you move your mouth along his member, lapping up the waves of pleasure each stroke gives him. His body arches into you as your tongue swirls around in circles, his hands grasping your hair as you work your way up and down. You can’t help but smile against him as you hear tiny, breathy moans with each flick of your tongue, revealing that you’ve brought him to this point.

You can feel your arousal growing, and you know you’ve done the same to Dokyeom as you reach the climax together, him calling out your name as the waves of pleasure ensnare you both and pull you gently into a blissfully calm state.

You feel the heat rising as you climb out of the plunge pool and lay on the edge, reclining on your elbows, and you feel your breath hitch in anticipation and your breaths coming in shallow gasps.

Then you feel Dokyeom’s hand touching you, tracing a path from your abdomen to your chest and neck. His fingertips leave a trail of blissful heat on your skin, and you let out a contented sigh.

Dokyeom slides lower, his hand running across your inner thigh. His fingers work their way up your legs, sending sparks of pleasure shooting right to your core.

When Dokyeom finally reaches your most intimate area, you can’t help but gasp as you feel his tongue exploring you. His soft, lapping motions send waves of pleasure rippling through your body, and you find yourself pushing against his face, wanting more and more from him.

Dokyeom responds to the pressure of your body, deepening the stress and increasing the intensity of his movements. His tongue circles around your clit, sending more delightful feelings coursing through you until you feel like you’re about to combust.

And then it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your body suddenly gives way as an explosion of pleasure ripples through you, and you think your entire body is trembling with delight. You’ve just experienced the most intense and pleasurable orgasm, thanks to Dokyeom.

He stares deeply into your eyes, the look telling you he craves you just as much as you desire him.

You don’t have to wait any longer. He plunges deep inside you, his hips moving skillfully as his groans mix with yours. Your body tightens around him as he rocks into you so intensely that it sends waves of pleasure shooting through your body.

The intensity builds up until a wave of pleasure engulfs both of you. You collapse into each other, exhausted but electrified.

The afterglow slowly takes over as you lay in each other’s arms, enjoying the comfort of being surrounded by each other’s warmth.

You and Dokyeom found refuge in a small corner of AECOR, where you both held each other. It was a beautiful and peaceful moment, and you wished that you could stay in this moment forever.

“Y/N, I want you to know something. I feel safe with you for the first time in my life,” Dokyeom admitted, making you smile and guilt engulf you.

His words hung in the air, carrying the weight of his vulnerability. You look into his eyes, the depth of his emotions mirrored in his gaze. The rainforest seems to hold its breath as if nature is listening to this profound declaration.

You reach out, your hand finding his, fingers entwined.

“Dokyeom,” you reply with a voice filled with warmth and understanding.

“I’m grateful to have you in my life. We’re safe together.”

The next day, Dokyeom felt a slight throbbing pain in his head, and when he woke up, you were nowhere to be found. He wasn’t even sure how he woke up or, more importantly, how he was unconscious. Had you hurt him? Where were you? Had he been brave, he would have gone out to search, but he knew not to because he too was a target.

You find yourself in the heart of SALAX, a planet shrouded in shadows and ruled by fear. As you navigate the dimly lit paths, a chilling encounter awaits you. A mysterious figure approaches, cloaked in darkness, and with a low, ominous voice, they ask.

“Have you managed to ensnare Dokyeom yet?”

You hesitate, your mind racing as you weigh your options. You’ve infiltrated this grim city for a specific purpose, a mission that demands subtlety and caution. But the pressure to fulfil your promise hangs heavily over you, and the consequences of failure are dire.

You felt immense guilt the night before, right after Dokyeom confessed to you that he felt safe with you, when he wasn’t looking, decided to hit him hard enough to cause a slight snag in his system, which would make him shut down for a few hours. Which gave you enough time to go SALAX and see if you could get out of your deal. You couldn’t hurt Dokyeom anymore. You couldn’t hurt someone you were falling in love with.

Before you can respond, the enigmatic figure steps closer, their face concealed by shadows. “Time is running out, Y/N,” they hiss, their tone dripping with menace.

“We cannot afford delays. Alastor is growing impatient.”

The name sends a shiver down your spine—Alastor, the ruler of SALAX, a malevolent force you’ve heard whispered about in hushed tones. He is a figure of terror, and the urgency in the stranger’s voice underscores the gravity of your mission.

As you stand there, torn between your mission’s demands and the mounting pressure from Alastor’s emissary, you know that your choices in this treacherous city will have far-reaching consequences. The web of intrigue and danger in SALAX tightens around you, and you must decide whether to continue down this perilous path, knowing that failure could mean a fate worse than death.

As you leave the oppressive city of SALAX behind, the weight of guilt and conflict presses heavily upon your heart. The memories of your time in SALAX, the choices you made, and the person you had to become weigh on your conscience, and there’s no escaping the tangled web of emotions.

In the solitude of your departure, you find yourself grappling with the harsh reality of having betrayed Dokyeom, the man you had come to care for deeply. Your love for him is undeniable, a powerful force that has drawn you together in a world fraught with danger and uncertainty.

With each step away from SALAX, you replay the moments when you had to deceive him, the lies you had to tell, and the promises you couldn’t keep. The pain of knowing that you’ve broken his trust is like a dagger in your chest, and it gnaws at your soul.

But you also remember the pressure from Alastor, the ruler of SALAX, and the dire consequences that would have occurred had you not complied with his demands. It was a choice between betraying Dokyeom and facing the wrath of Alastor, and in the end, you had to prioritise your survival.

As you journey further away from SALAX, you yearn for a solution, a way to make amends for the betrayal and deception that have torn your heart in two. You know that you can’t change the past, but you’re determined to find a way to set things right.

The conflict within you rages on, tearing at your conscience and leaving you in turmoil. You find solace in the quiet moments of reflection, searching for a path forward that will allow you to reconcile your love for Dokyeom with the choices you were forced to make.

In the distance, a glimmer of hope emerges—a plan, a way to mend the trust you’ve shattered. It won’t be easy, and the road ahead is uncertain, but you’re resolved to find a solution that will bring redemption and forgiveness for yourself and the love you hold for Dokyeom.

As the spacecraft landed back in AECOR, you noticed Dokyeom standing outside the place where you last left him, and even though the space craft, you could sense the tension.

As you got off the spacecraft, you noticed that Dokyeom’s once-warm demeanour had cooled, replaced by a distant and suspicious gaze. The weight of your mission and the secrets you carry are like a boulder on your shoulders as you stand before him.

Dokyeom’s words, when they finally come, are laced with an undercurrent of passive aggression.

“Where were you?”

You can feel his scrutiny, his unspoken doubts hanging heavy in the air. The unease in your chest tightens, and you know the time has come to confront the truth.

“SALAX”

“What?”

Taking a deep breath, you decide to be honest. “Dokyeom, there are things I need to tell you,” you begin, your voice quivering with the weight of your confession.

He raises an eyebrow, his suspicion growing. “Go on.”

You recount the events of your mission in SALAX, the pressure from Alastor’s emissary, and the choices you were forced to make. You can see the anger and disappointment flicker in Dokyeom’s eyes as you speak.

When you finally finish, there’s a heavy silence between you. Dokyeom’s expression is inscrutable, and you can’t tell if he’s processing your confession or formulating his response.

After an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice cold and measured. “Y/N, I need you to understand the gravity of your actions. Trust is not something to be taken lightly. Your secrecy puts us all at risk.”

Your heart sinks as you realise the consequences of your choices. You had expected Dokyeom’s anger, but what comes next surprises you.

He leans in closer, his gaze unwavering. “Here’s your ultimatum Y/N. If you want to continue being with me, you must prove you can be trusted. No more secrets, no more hidden agendas. From now on, complete transparency. Can you do that?”

The ultimatum hangs in the air like a heavy storm cloud, and you understand the weight of his words. The trust eroded by your actions is at stake, and it’s up to you to rebuild it, one honest step at a time.

“Dokyeom, I need to confess to you,” your voice trembles slightly, but you push on, knowing that honesty is the only path forward.

His brow furrows in concern as he listens attentively, encouraging you to continue. “I... I was supposed to betray you,” you admit, the words heavy on your conscience. “There was a plan, a scheme I was involved in, but I can’t do it anymore.”

Dokyeom’s eyes widen in surprise, and he reaches out to gently hold your hand, a silent gesture of support. “What do you mean?” he asks, his voice soft and understanding.

Tears gather in your eyes as you elaborate. “I was meant to deceive you, hurt you, but I’ve realised that what we share is more important to me than anything else. I can’t go through with it, Dokyeom. I can’t betray you after everything we’ve been through.”

Silence hangs in the air, the weight of your confession palpable. You search his eyes for a sign, praying he’ll understand your turmoil and forgive your past intentions. With your heart in your throat, you wait for his response, hoping your honesty will be the bridge to mend any potential rift between you.

As you sit across from Dokyeom, the weight of your past and the secrets you’ve harboured for so long pressing heavily upon your shoulders, you take a deep breath, trying to find the courage to reveal your darkest truths.

As the realisation dawns upon Dokyeom, a heavy silence settles over the room. He stands there, his thoughts racing, trying to face the betrayal that has unfolded before him. The one person he had trusted implicitly, you, had been attempting to deceive him all along.

Dokyeom’s heart feels like it’s been gripped by an icy vice, and he struggles to find words to express the tumultuous emotions surging within him. He had opened himself up and allowed you into the innermost chambers of his life, and now he feels like a fool.

You stood before him, your eyes filled with regret and uncertainty.

Finally, Dokyeom’s voice breaks through the silence, but it’s laced with a mixture of hurt and anger. “Y/N, how could you?” His words are filled with a sense of betrayal that cuts deep.

You took a step forward, her voice trembling as you tried to explain. “Dokyeom, I... I never meant for things to get this far. It started as something I thought I had to do, but along the way, I realised...”

Dokyeom cuts you off, his anger boiling over. “Realised what? That you could play with my trust and feelings and throw it all away when it suited you?”

The room feels tense, the air heavy with the moment’s weight. Dokyeom’s trust, once unshakable, has been shattered, and he’s left to grapple with the aftermath of the betrayal.

Your eyes fill with tears as you struggle to find the right words to make amends for your actions. “Dokyeom, please, just hear me out. I never wanted to hurt you. I never thought I would care this much.”

He turns away from you, unable to bear the sight of the person who had manipulated his trust. “Y/N, I need time,” he says, his voice weary and defeated. “I need time to process this, to understand what just happened.”

“Dokyeom,” you begin, your voice quivering, “there’s something I need to tell you. Something I’ve kept hidden for far too long.”

Once warm and trusting, his eyes now hold a mix of curiosity and concern as he nods, encouraging you to continue.

“I come from a past that I’m not proud of,” you admit, gazing at the table before you. “I used to be involved in criminal activities that hurt people and went against everything I now stand for.”

Dokyeom remains silent, his expression a mixture of surprise and a hint of sadness.

Tears well up in your eyes as you recount the horrors of your past the choices you made that left scars on others and yourself. “I’ve hurt people, stolen, lied, and deceived. I could escape my past, but it’s been haunting me, and I can’t bear to keep it hidden any longer.”

Dokyeom’s gaze remains locked on you. His silence speaks volumes.

“I joined this SALAX, this mission, in the hope that I could make amends for my past,” you continue, your voice trembling with emotion. “I wanted to change, become a better person, and do something meaningful. But I understand if you can’t trust me now.”

“If I could give them you, then I would not be punished for my past,” you admit.

The room seems to close in on you as you await his response, the weight of your confession hanging heavily in the air. You fear that your past actions have damaged the trust Dokyeom once had in you.

After what feels like an eternity, Dokyeom finally speaks, his voice measured and compassionate.

“Y/N, what matters is not the person you used to be but who you’ve become. You’ve taken a courageous step by facing your past and sharing it with me.”

Dokyeom's hand finds yours, a gesture of understanding and support.

“We all have our demons, Y/N, and we all make mistakes. What’s important is that you’re trying to make amends and move forward. I believe in the person you are now, and I trust that you’ll continue to work towards the better future you’ve set your sights on.”

Tears of relief well up in your eyes as you squeeze his hand, grateful for his understanding and forgiveness. In that moment, you realise that by sharing your darkest truths, you’ve not only unburdened yourself but also strengthened the trust between you and Dokyeom. It’s a crucial step toward redemption and a brighter future where your past no longer defines who you are.

“We’ll fight it together.”

“We’ll make it out alive, Y/N,” Dokyeom promised. However, as the words left Dokyeom’s mouth, you heard a loud noise, and suddenly, you were both enveloped in a cloud of darkness.

As the darkness of night envelopes you and Dokyeom, you find yourselves ensnared in a dire predicament. Captured by unknown assailants, you're bound and blindfolded, completely at their mercy. The journey is disorienting, filled with abrupt turns and jolts, leaving you with no sense of direction.

After what feels like an eternity, the vehicle comes to a halt, and you're roughly pulled from your seats. The sound of heavy metal doors creaking open echoes in the air, and you're guided out, stumbling on unfamiliar terrain.

The blindfold is removed, and as your eyes adjust to the dim light, you realize that you're in the heart of SALAX. The planet’s cold and oppressive atmosphere is suffocating, and a sense of foreboding washes over you.

Dokyeom, still bound and disoriented, is by your side, and you exchange a glance that speaks volumes—fear, uncertainty, and the grim realization that you've been brought into the heart of a malevolent force.

Gathered around you are a group of armed figures, their faces obscured by masks and shadows. They remain silent, their intentions unclear, as they usher you both forward, deeper into the labyrinthine alleys of SALAX.

The city's eerie ambience intensifies, and you can't help but wonder what fate awaits you and Dokyeom in this dystopian realm. As you're led further into the heart of the unknown, the sense of peril deepens, and the need for a plan to escape this grim fate becomes all-consuming.

In the distant, dystopian future, amidst the cold and unforgiving landscape of a city known as SALAX, there exists a name that strikes fear into the hearts of all who dare to speak it—Alastor, the malevolent ruler of this desolate realm.

With a visage shrouded in shadows and a presence that radiates malevolence, Alastor is a figure cloaked in mystery and darkness. His iron grip on SALAX is unyielding, and his dominion extends far beyond the city’s crumbling walls. He is a tyrant of unparalleled cruelty, ruling through fear, manipulation, and an insatiable thirst for power.

The tales of Alastor’s ruthless reign are whispered in hushed tones, passed down from generation to generation. His rule is marked by oppression, surveillance, and merciless enforcers who carry out his every command without question. In his quest for dominance, he has left a trail of broken lives and shattered dreams in his wake.

Alastor’s origins remain closely guarded, hidden behind lies and deception. Some say he was once a brilliant scientist, while others claim he emerged from the depths of the city’s darkest nightmares. Regardless of his past, his present is a reign of terror that leaves no room for hope or resistance.

As the ruler of SALAX, Alastor commands a vast network of spies, informants, and ruthless enforcers, all dedicated to maintaining his oppressive regime. His fortress-like palace, situated at the city’s heart, symbolises his absolute authority. In this place, he broods over his dark ambitions and plots his next move to tighten his grip on the city’s inhabitants.

Alastor’s name is synonymous with cruelty and malevolence, a name that sends shivers down the spines of those who dare utter it. In the grim, futuristic world of SALAX, he is the embodiment of evil, a shadowy figure who rules with an iron fist and whose presence casts a long, foreboding shadow over all who dwell within his domain.

You stand before a council of stern-faced individuals, their collective disapproval palpable. The room is tense, and your heart beats heavily as you confront the consequences of your failure. The weight of their anger bears down on you, and you know that there is no escaping the harsh judgment about to be passed.

One of the council members opens his mouth to address you, his expression a mask of disappointment and anger and addresses you with a voice that cuts through the silence like a blade. “Y/N, you were entrusted with a vital task and failed us miserably.”

Your voice quivers as you attempt to offer an apology. “I... I didn’t mean for this to happen. It was an honest mistake.”

But the council members are unforgiving, their faces etched with anger and frustration. One of them, an imposing figure with a voice like thunder, bellows.

“Honest mistake or not, your failure has put us all at risk. We can’t afford such incompetence.”

The atmosphere in the room grows more hostile with each passing moment. Accusations fly, and your attempts at explaining the circumstances of your failure fall on deaf ears. The decision is made swiftly and decisively.

One of the council members, their voice filled with righteous anger, proclaims.

“Y/N, you have betrayed our trust and jeopardised our mission. You are hereby banished from our ranks.”

The words hang in the air like a death sentence, and you feel a profound sense of despair wash over you. The consequences of your actions have led to your expulsion, and there is no way to argue your way out of it.

Alastor, his gaze filled with disappointment, approaches you with a heavy heart.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice laced with regret. “I never thought I would see this day. You were once a valued team member, but your failure has left us no choice.”

“Please let me do anything else. Please spare him,” you begged.

“Oh, you still don’t understand, do you? You fell in love with him, gave him your body and love, and as a result, you are no longer of any use to us. You are done,” Alastar spoke, his words terrifying you further.

“Don’t hurt him,” you whimpered.

“He’ll be hurt, don’t you worry. He can watch the life be taken out of you. That will be his punishment.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you realise the gravity of your mistake. You had let down not only those who had trusted you but also yourself. The sense of shame and regret is overwhelming.

As you are escorted out of the room, the weight of your banishment settles upon you like a heavy shroud. You are left to face the consequences of your failure alone, the anger and disappointment of those you once considered allies echoing in your ears.

In the days that follow, you wander, a sense of purposelessness consuming you. The world outside is harsh and unforgiving, and you are left to bear the burden of your mistakes.

As you reflect on the consequences of your actions, you can’t help but wonder if there will ever be a way to make amends for your failure. The road ahead is uncertain, and the path to redemption, if it exists at all, seems long and arduous.

But one thing is clear—you must carry the weight of your punishment and learn from your failure, for it is only through facing the consequences of your actions that you can hope to find a way to redeem yourself in the eyes of those you have let down.

In the dimly lit room, the air felt heavy with anguish and despair. You and Dokyeom, bound and helpless, found yourselves in a nightmarish scenario you could never have imagined. A sinister figure, cloaked in shadows, loomed over you both, his intentions cruel and heartless.

Dokyeom watched you helplessly as you lay on the cold, unforgiving floor, your breaths shallow and laboured. The faint flicker of a dying candle cast eerie, shifting shadows on your face, emphasising the pallor of your skin.

Tears welled in your eyes as you whispered words of comfort, your voice trembling with grief. Dokyeom’s eyes met yours, filled with profound sadness and an unspoken understanding of the impending tragedy.

“Any final words?” The sinister figure asked mockingly.

“In another universe, we’ll find each other again,” you breathed out, and Dokyeom let out a string of pleas, begging for mercy.

The sinister figure, unmoved by Dokyeom’s pleas, revealed a cruel smile as he continued his evil act. Time seemed to slow as Dokyeom was forced to witness life slowly ebb away from you–the person he cherished most. Every passing moment felt like an eternity of heartache.

The room seemed to close in around you as the final breaths escaped your lover’s lips, leaving a haunting silence in their wake. Once filled with love and life, their eyes stared vacantly into the abyss.

In that agonising moment, part of you died with them, and the world became darker and colder. The anguish and helplessness etched into your memory would forever haunt your soul, a scar that time could never fully heal.

The End

Earth: Present Day

“New here, huh?” The man before you asked, and you smiled at him.

“Uh, yeah. I just moved to this town for a fresh start,” you replied unsurely, making the man smile at you.

“Why don’t you sit next to that gentleman over there? You both look rather lost. Let me grab a few things, and I’ll sort you both out,” he instructed, and you mumbled a ‘yes’ and made your way to another lost-looking soul.

“Sorry, is this seat taken?” You asked the stranger. He looked up at you. He had a kind face, warm eyes, and a loving smile. But something about this man was familiar like you had met him once in a dream, in a different life. It makes your heart race and mind run wild with possibilities. You knew him. You just didn’t know how.

“Nope, have a seat,” he offered kindly.

“So you’re also lost in a new town, huh?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, just, I guess, sorted landed on my ass,” you joked, making him laugh and clap his hands.

“Same, hey, we’re both lost. I guess we could be friends? I promise you, I won’t bite,”

“I don’t see why not,” you responded.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced, holding your hand to him.

“Sounds familiar for some reason,” the stranger responded.

“Funny, I wanted to say the same to you,” you admitted.

“I’m Seokmin,” he said, shaking your hand.

“I wish the name rang a bell, but maybe I’m going crazy,” you added, making him smile.

“Maybe in another universe, we once knew each other?” Seokmin offered.

#seventeen #dokyeom #seventeen fic #svthub #indigo writes: seokmin #kvanity #svt sci-fi collab

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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 8 months ago

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Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x22 There's No Place Like Home (Part 2)

Summary: A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time. There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season. Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 493

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (27) (28)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Notes: I knew there was no way I could stick to just one drabble an episode for the CS movie, so I didn't even try. There will be 2 drabbles for 3x21 and 4 for 3x22. They are all written, so the plan is to post one per day until they're all posted.

Note #2: Thanks to @jrob64 and @snowbellewells for the prompt!

She was in shock. There was no other way to explain her current state of calm after what had just happened, after what she’d just witnessed.

After escaping the Evil Queen’s cell, with her innocent prisoner in tow, Hook had filled her in on what she’d missed. Snow White had sent them a way to get into the castle, but she hadn’t met back up with them, and they were concerned she’d been captured.

When they’d reached the large, circular window overlooking the courtyard, they discovered that their concerns were more than founded.

Emma would never forget the horror of looking down to see her mom tied to a stake, surrounded by wood and with the Evil Queen preparing to hurl a fireball in her direction. She’d been desperate to move, to act, to do something to stop what was about to happen, but without her magic, she was completely powerless.

As the Evil Queen let the fireball fly, and as her mother’s writhing form was consumed, Hook pulled her to himself, and she clung to him. Needing him, needing his comfort more than she ever had before.

They’d watched in horrified fascination as the fire quickly did its job, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. She couldn’t look away. As horrific as it was, she couldn’t look away.

Finally, as the guards and the Queen turned back toward the castle, Hook had reminded them that they would accomplish nothing by being captured themselves, and they’d stealthily left the castle, returning to the fire her dad and Killian had built while they waited.

“After my brother passed,” Killian said almost hesitantly once the two of them were again alone, “all I could do was relive that final, terrible moment. Don’t do that to yourself, love. All we can do at times like these is to try to live in the here and now.”

She appreciated his attempts to help her through this, but it would take some time before she could close her eyes without seeing her mother murdered before her eyes and her completely powerless to stop it.

They had failed, and failed so profoundly, nothing could ever be right again. Her mom was dead, and with her gone, Regina would never be defeated, the kingdom would never be saved, her dad would never have true love, her baby brother, who’d just been born, would never exist.

Would never exist.

Suddenly a ray of hope pierced her darkness.

“Here and now,” she said, brow furrowed. “I’m still here. How is that possible? We saw her die, which means I would never be born.”

Killian’s eyes widened as the implications of her words hit him. “You should have faded from existence.”

“Exactly,” she said.

“Well then, perhaps–” he began slowly.

“She’s still alive!” Emma said, knowing that somehow, some way, against all odds it had to be true. She hadn’t lost her mother after all, not yet anyway. There was still hope!

NEXT CHAPTER->

#season 3 rewatch drabbles #3x22 there's no place like home #captain swan fanfiction #my fanfiction

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jenakuns · 3 months ago

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Stoke Space Second Stage Solutions So Sick

So Stoke is pretty popular ay. I remember there was this fun time in like 2022 on discord where about once every month somebody would discover Stoke for the first time and it would be this fun little conversation. That boat has well and truly sailed.

Now onto this trade space. I'll begin with engine ISP as that's the easiest to understand. Now despite what this meme and Stoke might have you believe, the engine isn't that efficient in a vacuum at 430s of ISP. Conventional vac optimised expander bleeds can hit 450s, so they're down relative to that. And against a hypothetical FRSC hydrogen upper stage engine which could hit 470s of ISP (and they are capable of building); they're losing 40s. 430s is what open sea level engines achieve.* Essentially, if it was methalox, the ISP would be ~345s, below that of staged sea level engine like Raptor. This is their primary performance loss in the trade space. So what do they gain for that? They get to integrate 3 capabilities into the one engine, effectively decreasing the system complexity and dry mass of the stage.

*Although worth noting that those sea levels need ~100 bar in the chamber to achieve that ISP, Stoke does it with 40 bar. 40 bar means that they get to do things like skip bi metallic jackets on the chambers and can instead just have a copper alloy print. This combines with the 'positively benign' environment that a bleed expander turbine experiences so their engine doesn't experience a lot of stress; it should have a really good lifespan and be easy to reuse.

So it's kinda more of a sea level engine that gets reasonable performance in a vac for how robust and versatile the engine is. Something that restricts the performance of Starship, especially for HLS, is the fact that they need those sea levels in the skirt. Because they can't fit a gimballing Vactor in there, it means they have to deal with the ISP drop that comes with having to use 350s engines alongside your 375-380s vac engines. (not to mention throttling problems).

As a landing engine it’s fairly nice as it’s much easier to deeply throttle the architecture because you don’t have to worry about combustion instability in the pre-burners/gas generators, nor in the combustion chambers themselves as they can just limit the number of chambers that receive propellant. I don’t know what the theoretical limit is, but the renders do show 10% throttling.

Actively cooled heatshields are to ablative heatshields as liquid rocket engines are to solid rocket motors. (don't think about passive tile solutions, they don't fit in the analogy). This is something that people doubt the technical viability of. However, what I think people need to realize is that propulsion engineers already have to deal with thermal fluxes of ~100 MW/m² on the combustion chamber walls in their engines. The ~10 MW/m² of LEO re-entry is actually a breath of fresh air for them. In this case, the Stoke’s ‘aeroplug’ won’t experience that high of a heating due to the relatively low thrust/area of the engine, so re-entry thermal flux will likely be higher in this case. But the point still stands, it’s well within the propulsion engineers experience; get out of here TPS engineers! (just kidding we still need you for the material science of optimizing the alloy for the heat shield).

What does an actively cooled heat shield achieve? It’s no secret that the heat shield is one of the weaker elements of Starship’s design currently, with 18,000 tiles and a secondary ablative heat shield taking a significant portion of the mass and maintenance budget. It’s more robust than I would’ve thought; well at least the vehicle is. However for a fully and immediately reusable orbital heat shield, there’s definitely a lot to be improved upon. Active cooling has a much better shot of getting there, because effectively we’ve already gotten there previously with thrust chambers on reusable rocket engines. Monitoring the heat shield for damage should be easier, given that it’s inherently easier to place sensors and watch the flow of propellant compared to analysing 18,000 tiles. I’m not sure it would be easier to repair per say, but if it is permanently damaged, you could just treat the heat shield as a Line Replaceable Unit (LRU) and slot another one in.

Now comparing Starship flaps to Stokes lifting body heat shield is interesting, because the flaps do provide greater control. The mitigating factor here is that Nova doesn't need the greater control. Because SpaceX has a tile solution and enters on the broad side in an passively unstable state, they need the flaps to provide that flight control during re-entry and landing. Nova is passively stable with its base heatshield, so with the offset to provide a degree of lift they have enough trajectory control.

Chines are just in there for the meme of it (storage space). If they do get rid of the chines on Super Heavy, I’ll definitely miss them. They add so much to the look of that vehicle.

So what about hydrogen? To get something out of the way, I'm tired of people treating hydrolox as a curse on price. Yes the hardware (valves/seals) to support it does cost a % more, but it's not like you're forced into hundred million $ stages as a result. It's like going, 'oh well Shuttle proved reusability could never be cost effective, so Falcon 9 reuse will fail.' You're blaming mixed technical trades when the ultimate driver is managerial and organizational culture.

Hydrogen is fairly important to this architecture. A likely significant reason why methane wasn’t competitive with passive tile solutions for Starship was that by mass, it requires 4.5x as much methane to extract the same amount of heat as hydrogen. Now volumetrically this is less than the hydrogen, but mass is the driver at this stage of the mission.

I will say that VTVL first stages prefer high mass second stages as staging earlier decreases delta v + thermal flux to get to the landing site. In Falcon 9 case; replacing the current stage with a hydrogen stage of the same proportions would decrease performance to LEO by like ~3 tons for the reusable missions. This is why the higher impulse density propellants like methalox/kerolox are nice in this case and why Starship in particular.

From a long term perspective, hydrolox is better for the Moon, methalox is better for Mars. I will say that in order to produce methalox via ISRU on Mars, you can produce hydrolox. However impulse density and storage conditions make it preferable for methalox on the red planet.

From a Mars and a LEO perspective, the Starship architecture likely does provide better performance. Given that those are the 2 biggest theoretical market's for SpaceX, it makes sense that they optimized around that space. However the presumably more effective reuse and performance in the cislunar space, likely give Stoke's design the edge there. (Obviously there's a degree of separation in that one is a 3 ton to LEO vehicle and the other is a 100 ton to LEO vehicle)

#spacobs #stoke space

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the-nexus · 10 months ago

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... he was serious. Fuck, he was SERIOUS.

Alastor's expression still does well to MASK his reservations about this sudden twist of events, but his ears shift to lay flat, his tail wagging. Two different emotions reflected -- rare trepidation, but also, happiness.

" Dandelulu, you... you know I love you, You know I would do EVERYTHING for you, without question, and I cannot say that about very many people. " He's a selfish man, this Alastor, and he knows it. May try to convince others that he has their best interests at heart, but at the end of the day, everything he does is with some personal benefit, or gain, in mind. With Lucifer? It's all out of love for the king. Love that Alastor thought he would never, EVER experience, even before he got his just desserts and ended up here in hell.

Brushing a finger against the spot over Lucifer's heart, admittedly somewhat soothed by the way it thrummed 'neath his palm, Alastor sighs. " My beloved, I--- "

" Oh your MAJESTYYYYYYYYY~ "

A terrible, TAUNTING call bellows from the corridor, and once pinned back ears perk in alarm as he hears FIGHTING soon to follow. Shit, shit, shit, they're already here? Where is Charlie?!

" What did they do, deliver the note and then sit outside immediately thereafter, counting to 100!? " Growling, Alastor soon parts, brandishing his weapon and readying himself to seek out Charlie so they can make their escape, per the king's orders... but, first...

He sets a palm flat against Lucifer's chest, pushing him, aggressively, backwards and against the wall. Lips hungrily claim the other's, as Alastor drops his weapon momentarily to cup the king's cheeks, deepening the kiss. " Yes. I'll marry you, you idiotic man with... TERRIBLE taste. Use that as fuel to stay alive, will you? Because if I return and you have been harmed... well, all hell is going to break loose, and I DO mean that quite literally~ "

@radiodaemon

Oh, the wait for his answer was absolute torture. Would Alastor accept it? Would his beloved, ever-loyal knight agree to take the king's hand in marriage and choose to spend the rest of his afterlife with Lucifer? Or would he be denied...? Could it be possible that Lucifer was moving too fast? May have ruined all hope of having Alastor as his own forever? No doubt the timing was horrible, but he had to know!

Finally, it seemed he would get his answer. But, yet again, timing was not on his side. Just as Alastor was speaking to put the king's much painful wait to an end, a wretched voice calls out to him, interrupting what he'd been awaiting. Teeth gritted as he turned towards the door.

"Fuck—How are they here?!" He'd only received the note but minutes ago! There had to be a spy hidden within the palace. Someone had to have let them in, sheltering and hiding them until Lucifer had read the letter. But he would investigate this matter at a later time.

As his back hit the wall, he grunted, lifting his head to speak, only for his lips to be taken in a kiss. Not like any kiss he and Alastor shared in the past. No, he could feel more passion in this one, his cheeks almost ignited by the head of his demon lover's beautiful hands. His hands gripped Alastor's coat.

And he received his much anticipated answer.

He. Said. Yes. Oh, if he were in a position to cry, he would, but he struggled so hard to contain his emotions that were flowing from his heart. The smile that illuminated his face would shame the very sun itself. "Nothing is going to keep me from marrying you. So, you had best keep yourself alive as well, do you hear me?" And for added measure, Lucifer sank his teeth into his own tongue, drawing Alastor in for another desperate, loving kiss, slathering his blood across every corner of his lover's mouth.

Lucifer would have loved to spare more blood, but their time was up. A shadow was cast over them from the windows beside them and the blond pulled from the kiss to cast his gaze upon it. Beelzebub had returned, Charlie carefully held in her hands. Lucifer turned back to Alastor, stroking his face.

"Keep my daughter safe and come back to me alive." One last kiss. "Go." He pointed to the windows. He knew Bee would take them outside the kingdom and return to defend the king. His heart couldn't help but ache, having to watch the love of his life depart, but it was for their protection.

And he had more reason to live. He had his demon knight to marry.

#muse;;lucifer #radiodaemon #v; The King and His Knight [Royalty AU]#OH THIS BATTLE WILL GET BLOODY #STAY ALIVE ALASTOR #YOU MUST TO MARRY YOUR LOVING KING

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gerogerigaogaigar · 2 years ago

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We are 100 albums down into the Rolling Stone 500 greatest albums list. I thought I might offer some thoughts so far since, quite obviously, I disagree to some extent with this stupid idiot list. The most important thing to note is that making an objective greatest albums list is futile. What criteria determine that they are the greatest? Most popular? Most influential? Most artistically valid? There are simply no criteria that are subject to the baleful whims of subjectivity. Once the subjective is embraced then making this list is easy, just put anything you like on it. But that clearly isn't what Rolling Stone wants. If it was then they would not have revised it twice. No they want to be as inclusive and diverse as possible. They want some sort of objectivity, but they are limited by their perception. The qualia of any given rolling stone editor is one in which the only mark of significance is popularity in the west, the only influence that matter is influence over white western artists. If they were to be truly honest with themselves the list would just be Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band repeated 500 times. But there is no room for honesty in the wretched hearts of music critics.

The thing that is most obvious is that, although they do mix in a few women and Latino artists, the only marker for diversity they understand is blackness. The overwhelming prominence of Motown and Stax artists on the list is so obviously the result of them simply not knowing that many black artists from outside their comfort zone. So they double dip again and again, choosing albums like Al Green's Greatest Hits and Marvin Gaye's Here My Dear. They could of course be choosing some Asian artists, J-Pop and K-pop have been very popular and influential and City Pop is even surfacing as a popular hipster genre in the west. Why ignore these? It's because they don't see any music that didn't hit the UK or US as being culturally relevant.

There is another marker for diversity though. One that I think is almost more offensive to have ignored if only because this is a music publication talking about music. Genre. Rock, prog, punk, funk, disco, pop, R&B, Hip-hop, all represented here. But there has only been one metal album and literally zero electronic music. No house, techno, drum and bass, jungle, juke, dubstep, riddim, trance, there are so many subsets of electronic music that should be represented here. Show me Jeff Mills, Juan Atkins, Carl Craig. Show me Aphex Twin, Autechre, Plaid. Orbital, The Field, Shpongle, Laurel Halo, Alec Empire! For the love of God show me anything! But what would old men who suckle upon the cock of John Lennon know of electronic music. Electronic music is fundamentally black, and it only really goes on to heavily influence other black music. The reality of all that Motown on this list is that it influences white people and is therefore valid. Keep that in mind and the list becomes easier to understand. If you see anything other than a cisgender white male artist on here then you can safely assume they must have been influencial to some other cis white guy.

#500 album gauntlet #i predict there will be one(1) electronic album on here and it will be Daft Punk Discovery #i think we will get more metal but only the most obvious and banal shit #like Metallica's Black Album

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8verity8 · 2 years ago

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There has been a bit of discourse regarding the # of side couples in WinTeam, so here's my take... just because I feel like it.

This is just my opinion, of course, and I 100% respect everyone's right to disagree with me and think I'm full of it.

So, the short answer: I don't like it but not for the reasons you might think.

Now time for the (probably) unnecessarily long answer: I really wish they had not included the two new side couples in THIS show but instead focused on WinTeam with DeanPharm and ManowPruk as the side couples, and THEN focused on the two additional side couples as in-universe spin-offs.

This would have hit the nostalgia factor with DeanPharm (like they did a bit at the beginning of Between Us) and let us get to know a bit more about Manow's relationship with Pruk... To be honest, they ARE doing some of that already, so I wouldn't allocate TOO much of the extra time to these side couples, but it would have been a nicer storyline balance with only two side couples versus four.

Where I WOULD have focused that extra screen time though is on WinTeam (obviously... can't get enough of those two), but more importantly, on the friendship/family dynamics this show has introduced us to and is continuing to expand upon beautifully.

I wish they had focused more on building up the characters of Waan, Wiew and The ABC gang through their interactions with the established characters we already know and love, AND THEN done in-universe spin-offs for WaanTul and BeePrince once we, the audience, were more emotionally invested in them (and going through our inevitable WinTeam withdrawals).

As it is, I'm just not that in to their story lines which is dissapointing because I feel like I COULD be. I think it would have worked out better if we were given subtle hints that MAYBE something was going in the background, but only through their interactions with and from our Main Character's POV.

EG: Win noticing Tul acting weird around his brother... or Tul mentioning that he had to meet someone in-game. (Random Side note: I would have also loved if both Waan AND TUL had remained in the dark about being online friends a bit longer and had more of an established thing going in the real world before either of them figured it out, but 🤷‍♀️)

Also, I feel like both the side couples stories would have worked just as well, if not better if they were happening POST the events of UWMA and Between Us which would have given us the perfect set-up for where are they now WinTeam DeanPharm cameos...

Instead, their character introductions felt rushed, their character development feels essentially non-existent, and their romantic arcs feel like they've practically appeared out of nowhere (BeePrince decidedly more so than WaanTul... but still)

I'm disappointed because I feel like I could have become invested in their story arcs, but as it stands... I'm just not. 😞

I am, of course, still completely and utterly obsessed with this show... WinTeam are one of my favorite OTP's at this point, and each week keeps getting better with those two! 😍

#winteam #between us the series #between us #thaibl #thai bl #my opinion #my thoughts #fandom discourse

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junghelioseok · 4 years ago

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clandestine. | 01

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 10.3k [1/6]

notes: this fic was originally going to be a oneshot, but i changed my mind and decided i didn’t want to kill tumblr with a totally unnecessary 50k jk fic so 🤷🏻‍♀️ here is part one of a fic that 100% only came about because @puellaigmotum coerced me into it like 2 years ago (lmao rip 💀) and also bc i have zero self-control and am hopelessly h*rny for jungkook these days and don’t look at me i don’t wanna talk about it okay??? 🙈

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink, some ~under the table~ action, too much detail about jk’s dumb veiny arms probably, but at least he doesn’t have tattoos bc i started writing this before he got them and i don’t need to torture myself anymore than i already do!!!

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06

It’s always been easy to spot your brother in a crowd. Passengers flood off the train, jostling around you on their way to the station’s exit, but even in the swarm you can perfectly see Jimin’s golden head of hair bobbing its way toward you, a deep scowl etched across his face. “You’re late,” he says in lieu of a greeting, his honey brown eyes raking over your scuffed suitcase distastefully as he comes to a stop a few feet away.

“And you’re just as impatient as ever,” you retort, coming to a stop before him with your luggage in tow. “Think you can lord it over me since you can drive now?”

“Don’t forget that I’m your ride home,” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I could just as easily leave you here to fend for yourself.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you tell him, raising a brow in silent challenge.

Jimin stares down at you unflinchingly, and you stare right back. The tension stretches between you, taut and heavy, until every passing second feels like a light year. Around you, the crowd slowly dissipates, but still you remain—two motionless statues locked in a wordless struggle. From somewhere overhead, a monotone voice announces the next train departure times.

Jimin’s mouth twitches. You blink, twice in quick succession.

And then your little brother breaks into a grin—one that’s so wide you fear his mouth may detach from his face entirely. An answering smile settles across your face as you watch him throw his head back, dissolving into laughter that you can’t help but echo.

“Damn it, Chim!” you say, instinctively grabbing onto his wrist when it looks like he might fall over. “Your poker face still sucks.”

“I’ve gotten better!” Jimin immediately defends. “I mean, you’ve got to admit that, right?”

“Nope.” You sigh and hold a hand over your head so you can measure your height against his ever-so-slightly taller frame. “Same old annoying kid I grew up with. Seriously, have you grown at all in the past year?”

“Whoa, too far, Noona.” Jimin takes ahold of both of your cheeks, pinching them affectionately. “You’re only a year older than me, you know. Besides, I’ve been taller than you for two years now!”

“I’m pretty sure hitting puberty at age seventeen isn’t something to be proud of,” you reply, pulling away from him with a mock grimace and giggling when he lets out an offended squeak. Playfully, you reach up to ruffle his hair, scrubbing your knuckles just a little too roughly against his skull.

“Noonaaa,” he complains, drawing out the last syllable until he runs out of air. “Jeez, you haven’t even been back for an hour yet and you’re already being mean to me. When do you go back to Seoul again?”

“Three weeks,” you reply, narrowing your eyes. “But I can and will make these three weeks hell for you. Don’t test me.”

Jimin snickers and drapes his arm over your shoulders. He picks up your suitcase with the other hand, and you thank him with another, gentler hair ruffle as the two of you start toward the exit of the train station. “College hasn’t changed you one bit.”

“And senior year hasn’t changed you,” you say, letting him guide you outside and breathing in the balmy summer evening air. Jimin’s brow furrows as he tries to remember where he’s parked, and you kindly take your suitcase back when he nods decisively and heads toward the left side of the lot. “You excited to graduate?”

He sighs, fumbling in his pocket for the keys as the two of you approach the car. “It’s going to suck. Your ceremony was boring as hell last year.”

“Wow, rude.”

Jimin looks up from where he’s unlocking the driver’s side door. “Am I wrong, though?”

You flash him a grin as he unlocks the remaining doors, heaving your suitcase into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat beside him. “Nope. But afterward, you’ll be done with high school forever.”

“Thank god.” Your brother rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it further as he carefully starts the ignition and checks his mirrors with all the diligence of a new driver. Once satisfied, he pulls out of the parking space, meandering his way out of the lot and onto the main street.

The ride back to your childhood home is a short one, full of familiar storefronts and landmarks that dredge up all sorts of fond memories. You hadn’t expected your first year of university—away from your family and your hometown—to make you quite so emotional. But before you know it, Jimin is making the turn into your neighborhood, and you can’t stop the way your eyes begin to well up when you see your house in the distance.

As if reading your mind, Jimin glances at you as he pulls into the driveway. “Feel good to be home?”

You nod, blinking back tears. “Feels great.”

He grins. Pulling the key from the ignition, he climbs out of the car and grabs your suitcase, waving for you to head inside. Eagerly, you start toward the front door, but you barely make it halfway up the driveway when it bursts open, revealing your father standing there with open arms and an enormous grin. He’s just as tall as you remember, and looks exactly the same save a few more strands of silver lacing his hair. All of a sudden, you’re a little girl again, running up to give him a hug and giggling madly when he tries to scoop you up like he used to do so many years ago.

“Hi Dad,” you greet when he gives up and sets you back down on two feet. “Where’s Mom?”

“Cooking up a storm,” he replies, chortling. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he leads you into the kitchen where your mother is hunched over the stove with a spatula, delicious aromas wafting up from the array of pots and pans in front of her. “Honey, look who’s home!”

“Hi Mom,” you say, grinning when she whirls around, startled. The spatula, still dangling loosely from her hand, drips sauce onto the tiled floor, but she barely notices in her eagerness to give you a hug, throwing it down into one of the simmering pots and striding forward to wrap you up in a tight embrace.

“How was your trip?” she asks, pulling back and angling your face this way and that. “Did you sleep on the ride? Did Jimin drive safely?”

The last question draws a protesting whine from your brother, who has lugged your suitcase over the threshold and is now seated at the dining table, fiddling with a spoon. “My driving was fine, right Noona?” he says, his bottom lip jutting out into a pout.

“Yes, Chim,” you agree, laughing at the pleased expression that overtakes his face. Curiously, you walk over to the stove to inspect the food, your jaw dropping as you take in the assorted vegetables and meats. “Wow, Mom. Are you cooking for an army?”

“Jungkook is coming over for dinner,” she explains, following you over and plucking up the spatula again. “That boy has the biggest appetite I’ve ever seen—you remember, right?”

You laugh. “Of course I remember. He and Jimin were always stealing bites of my lunch at school.” Peering over at your brother, you fix him with a mock glare before walking over to the cutting board on the counter and sizing up the pile of onions and peppers sitting there. “It’ll be nice to see him again, though. How is he doing?”

To your surprise, a new voice answers your question—a voice that somehow manages to be simultaneously familiar and foreign. “Why don’t you ask me directly, Noona?” it says, and you whirl around, wide-eyed, to face the newcomer.

This can’t possibly be Jeon Jungkook, is your first thought upon seeing the young man standing in the kitchen doorway. The Jungkook you knew in high school was a scrawny kid—all gangly limbs and a nose that was too big for his face. The Jungkook you knew wore oversized white t-shirts that made him look even younger than he was, a look that was only enhanced by round wire-rimmed glasses that always gave him a look of permanent astonishment. The Jungkook you knew was nowhere near this tall, and definitely not this broad.

But this Jungkook—this Jungkook takes up nearly the entire doorframe with his bulk. Dark eyes stare at you from beneath equally dark hair, his gaze unhindered by his old glasses. A cobalt blue shirt stretches tight over his chest, and you swallow when you notice just how much the buttons are straining to contain the muscle underneath. Black jeans and simple black sneakers complete his outfit, and the entire look is so jarringly different from what you’re used to that you are left momentarily speechless, gaping like a fish out of water. Vaguely, you wonder when he got his ears pierced.

And then Jungkook—or at least, the young man claiming to be Jungkook—takes three steps forward, his entire face melting into a crinkly-eyed grin. You catch a glimpse of the adorably prominent front teeth that always made him look like a rabbit, and that’s all it takes to break the spell.

“Jungkookie!” you exclaim, darting forward to greet him. “It’s been so long!”

“Hi, Noona,” he replies, his grin widening at your approach. In an instant, he has you wrapped up in an embrace, easily lifting you off the floor in a display of strength that would’ve had a lesser woman swooning. His hands curl firmly around your waist, and you have no choice but to wrap yours around his nape, squeaking in protest when he spins you in a full circle.

“Kookie!” you gasp, wriggling helplessly in his grasp and huffing when he only cackles. “Put me down!”

Obediently, Jungkook lowers you back to the ground. His hands linger on your waist until he’s certain that both your feet are planted firmly, and it’s only then that he pulls back to get a good look at your face. “You know I’d never drop you, right?” he asks innocently.

“As if I can trust anything that comes out of your mouth,” you retort with a laugh. “I’ve seen you scam your way out of detention with those pretty doe eyes. Don’t try me, kid.”

Jungkook snorts. “Kid? I’m not that much younger than you. Plus I’m older than Jimin, y’know.”

“By a month!” your brother protests from the dining room, his blond head popping up from behind the vase of daisies serving as a centerpiece.

“Month and a half,” Jungkook stage-whispers to you, cupping a hand and bringing his mouth to your ear conspiratorially. His breath tickles your cheek, and you swat him away with a giggle that becomes a full-on laugh when Jimin lets out an offended cry and rises to his feet. Striding over, he pokes Jungkook squarely in the chest, his eyes narrowed.

“I invite you over to my house and this is the thanks I get?”

Your dad chooses that moment to interrupt from the living room. “Your house? When exactly did you start paying rent, Jimin?”

Jimin’s jaw drops. “Are you taking his side?” he asks in disbelief, glaring at Jungkook when he starts laughing. “I’m your son!”

“I’m your father,” your dad replies.

“And I’m your mother,” your mom pipes up, brandishing a spoon. “And I’m telling all of you to get your butts over to that dining table in the next ten seconds, or no dinner for any of you.”

Your dad, Jimin, and Jungkook immediately fall silent, cowed by her proclamation. Grinning, you join your mother at the counter, grabbing a handful of spoons and accepting the platter of kimchi she hands over. “Direct as always, Mom.”

She laughs and picks up a bowl of rice. “To deal with men like them? You have to be.”

Food in hand, you make your way into the dining room. The table is set, the steaming food arranged neatly in the center, and you watch as your mother takes her seat next to Jimin and leaves you to sit beside Jungkook on the opposite side. Your father beams from his spot at the head of the table, glancing at each of you in turn before turning and giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“Look at you kids, all sitting at the same table again.” He sighs, and you’re certain that he’s thinking back to the last time all of you were together—well over a year ago, at this point. “It’s a shame that your parents couldn’t join us, though, Jungkook.”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, they told me to apologize on their behalf. They have tickets for the theatre tonight, and couldn’t get a refund on them.”

Your father laughs and waves the apology off. “I’m sure we’ll catch them next time,” he says. “Pretty hard to avoid each other when you live next door, isn’t it?”

“Definitely,” Jungkook agrees with a chuckle. Then he turns to you, the silver hoops in his ears glinting in the light from the overhead chandelier. “I’m sure they’ll drop by soon to see you, Noona. Mom wants to hear all about Seoul—I think she’s worried about sending me so far away by myself.”

“Junghyun stayed in Busan for university, didn’t he?” your mom asks.

Jungkook nods. “Yep, he still lives downtown and everything. He wanted to come over tonight, but his work wouldn’t let him take the time off.”

Your mom sighs. “That’s such a shame. Is he at least attending your graduation?”

“He’s driving in the day after tomorrow for the ceremony,” Jungkook confirms. Then he pauses, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. His gaze flickers down to the plate of sweet potatoes on the other side of the table, and before he can even open his mouth, your mother is already passing him the plate. He thanks her with an embarrassed chuckle but digs into the food nonetheless, and everyone else takes it as a sign to follow suit. You’re in the middle of scooping rice into your bowl when Jimin speaks up again.

“So what’s it like living in Seoul?” he asks, his cheeks bulging with pork belly. “You have roommates, right?”

“Suitemates,” you correct. “But yeah, I live with three other people. Namjoon, Hoseok, and Jennie are all great though, so it hasn’t been a problem.”

Jungkook pauses mid-chew to gape at you. “You live with guys?”

“My building’s co-ed,” you explain. “We all have separate bedrooms, but we share a common space and bathrooms.”

Your mother—on the lookout for any potential future grandchildren, as always—perks up. “Namjoon and Hoseok sound like nice boys. Are you friends?”

“Yes, Mom,” you sigh. “We’re friends. Just friends.” And then before she can ask about whether or not any other boys have caught your eye, you quickly turn back to your brother. “So, what’s your plan for next year? Are you and Jungkook living together?”

Jimin hums. “Yep, that’s the plan. Unless you want to live with us too, Noona.”

You laugh. “Why, so I can protect you from all the bullies like I did in elementary school?”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “More like so I can protect you from all the weird college guys. Who’s this Hoseok guy anyway? Do I need to beat him up?”

“Please don’t beat up Hobi,” you entreaty, giggling when he pretends to crack his knuckles. “Or Joon!” you add quickly when he remains undeterred and makes to stand up from the table to defend your honor. Balling up your napkin, you throw it at him, and both of you burst into hysterics when your makeshift weapon bounces off his forehead and straight into his glass of water. The rest of dinner passes in a haze of similarly playful antics and happy chatter, and by the time the last bowl is scraped clean, it feels as if you’d never even left.

“I’ll do the dishes,” you volunteer, standing up and gathering up the empty platters. Jungkook and Jimin are quick to jump to your aid, collecting any utensils that you missed, and you offer them a grateful smile as they follow you into the kitchen.

“Let me do the washing, Noona.” Jungkook rolls up the sleeves of his cobalt blue shirt to expose a familiar silver watch glinting on his left wrist—a watch that his father handed down to him when he was sixteen, and that had been worn by his grandfather before him. You still remember the day he’d first worn it to school, proudly displaying it even though the band was too loose around his narrow wrist.

He’s grown into it now, you realize. The watch no longer flops around like it used to, and sits snugly in place instead. Your eyes trace the silver buckle on the inside of his wrist before trailing up to follow the network of thin, branching veins in his forearm, admiring the smooth flex of muscle as he grabs a sponge from the wire rack hanging above the sink and squirts some dish soap onto the surface.

“I’ll dry,” Jimin chirps, selecting a towel and brandishing it. “Noona, do you want to help me? We’ll finish faster that way.”

Nodding, you pull another towel out from the drawer and rejoin the two boys at the sink. Jungkook washes quickly and efficiently, and you determinedly avoid staring at the way water trickles along the patchwork veins on his hands as he gives you bowl after bowl to dry.

It doesn’t take long for all the dishes to be washed and dried. The three of you take the time to put them back into the proper cabinets before bidding your parents a good night, heading out onto the back porch. Falling back into old routines feels like second nature, so you plop down onto the steps without hesitation and grin when Jungkook takes a seat beside you.

“Wait, I almost forgot!” Jimin exclaims, bouncing up from where he was beginning to sit down next to Jungkook. “I bought some beer earlier and left it in the trunk. Be right back!”

You watch your brother run off, his floppy blond hair a stark contrast with the deep blue evening sky. In seconds, he’s disappeared around the corner of the house, leaving you and Jungkook alone on the porch steps.

“Chim really hasn’t changed one bit,” you remark with a laugh, turning toward your dark-haired companion.

Jungkook chuckles. “The kid loves his alcohol, that’s for sure.”

“Please.” You elbow him in the ribs. “I know you’re just as bad as he is.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with another chuckle. “But come on, Noona, you can’t tell me you don’t enjoy a drink every now and then. What about all that college stress?”

You hum, leaning back on your hands and staring up at the sky where the full moon is just beginning to rise, surrounded by a smattering of stars peeking through the velvety darkness of night. “I never said that I didn’t enjoy a drink, or five.” Jungkook laughs at your remark, and you smile before letting out a soft sigh. “I’m glad Jimin got the beer, though. Maybe I’ll finally be able to stop stressing out about my internship.”

That sobers Jungkook up immediately, his eyes widening as he peers down at you and lays a gentle hand on your back. “Are you still worried? You already got the job, didn’t you?”

You nod slowly, thinking back to the job offer that you had accepted at the end of the semester. It had been difficult finding a company in your desired field that offered internships to first-year students, but with dogged persistence and a lot of luck, you’d managed to snag a summer position. It isn’t due to start for another three weeks, however, and while you’re grateful for the chance to visit your family, part of you also wishes that you didn’t have to wait such a long time. “I just have no idea what to expect, you know? The only jobs I’ve ever had were in retail and food service, and that was all ages ago. I don’t feel ready at all.”

A strong arm settles across your shoulders, and you look up to see Jungkook gazing down at you with something indiscernible sparkling in his deep brown eyes. “You’re gonna be amazing,” he murmurs, his voice whisper-soft. “You know that, right? You always are. This won’t be any different.”

And you believe him. Every detail of his face is bathed in silvery moonlight—the gentle slope of his nose, the sharp angle of his jaw, the little scar high on his cheekbone—and you wonder how you never realized how handsome he is before now. And maybe it’s the low, soothing timbre of his voice, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—with unspeakable tenderness and gentle affection glimmering in his irises—but you lean in before you can even realize what you’re doing. You don’t look away, and neither does he.

Jungkook’s gaze drops, trailing down the slope of your cheeks until it lands on the curve of your mouth. He hesitates for a split second, his throat bobbing harshly as he swallows and sucks in a breath.

And then his lips are pressing against yours—soft and tentative and just a little bit chapped. Your eyes flutter shut almost on instinct, your body relaxing as he shifts and pulls you a little more firmly against him. Slowly, his arm finds its way to the curve of your waist and settles there. Your fingers curl around his nape, carding through his silky hair.

It’s only when Jungkook’s tongue darts out to run along the seam of your lips that reality comes crashing back down, your stomach plummeting down to somewhere around your toes as you wrench away from his embrace. “Kookie!” you gasp, your breathing labored. “We can’t!”

Jungkook blinks, momentarily entrancing you with the way the stars reflect in his gaze like glittering diamonds. “Why not?” he asks, reaching out for you again. “You kissed me back, didn’t you?”

Squeaking, you bat his hands away. “Jungkook, no! We can’t! You’re Jimin’s best friend, and god, this is all kinds of weird, and—“

The dark-haired young man looks like he wants to protest more, but the sound of footsteps coming back around the house sends both of you scooting back to your original positions on the porch steps. Jimin appears two seconds later, plopping down beside Jungkook cheerfully and dropping a six-pack of beer at his feet.

“What’d I miss?” he asks, seemingly oblivious to the tension lingering in the air as he pops open a bottle and hands it to you.

“Nothing,” you say immediately, accepting the proffered beer. The cool glass bottle is a welcome relief, and you hurriedly take a long sip when your mind unwillingly begins to wander back to just how warm and soft your dark-haired companion’s lips had been.

Jungkook is much slower to respond to Jimin’s question. His shoulders slump as he reaches down to grab a drink of his own, twisting the cap open viciously and taking a swig. “Yeah,” he mutters, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nothing at all.”

Luck must be on your side, because Jimin doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss as he grabs a beer for himself and flops backward, resting his weight on his elbows as he gazes up at the night sky. “It’s nice out,” he remarks, looking utterly at ease.

You are anything but. Beside you, Jungkook is sipping pensively on his beer, and you are painfully aware of the heat radiating off his body. Jimin is still chattering away, rambling about whatever pops into his head, and you take the opportunity to sneak a glance at Jungkook. His face is cast in silvery luminescence from the moon, his mouth pulled down into a deep, contemplative frown—and you are once again forced to shake off thoughts of how nice it felt to have his mouth pressed against yours.

This is Jeon Jungkook, you tell yourself sternly. Friend, neighbor, and Jimin’s best friend in the entire universe. You kissed him, sure, but it was a mistake. A moment of weakness. And it won’t happen again.

You repeat that over and over, silently reciting it in your head like a mantra, until, at last, you finally start to believe it.

///

You’re in the middle of brewing a fresh pot of coffee after a lazy morning spent sleeping in when you spot Jungkook outside through the kitchen window. He’s standing in the yard in a sleeveless white tee, wiping at his forehead with the back of his hand as he thoughtfully regards the row of hedges that serves as the property line between your house and the Jeons’ house next door. In his other hand is a shovel, and you can’t help the way your gaze automatically traces his exposed biceps, admiring the way they flex when he finally selects a spot and begins digging.

“Is the coffee done yet, Noona?”

Jimin’s voice yanks your attention away from your gardening neighbor, your vision overtaken by a mess of fluffy blond bedhead as he sneaks into the space between you and the counter and obnoxiously cuts you off from the pot of fresh brew. “Hey!” you protest, but Jimin just gives you a cheeky wink before grabbing a mug and pouring out a generous helping of piping hot coffee. After a moment’s thought, he pours you a mug as well, handing it over with an exaggerated bow.

You roll your eyes, but accept the warm cup nonetheless. Following him into the living room, you make yourself comfortable on the couch as he flops down onto the carpeted floor and turns on the television. Idly, he begins flipping through the channels in search for something to watch, and you endure random snippets of the morning news, a cheesy soap opera, and a series of infomercials before sighing and rising to your feet again. “I’m getting some food. Want some toast, Chimchim?”

“Mmm. Sure.”

Slowly, you meander your way back into the kitchen. Your mother is standing at the counter stirring sugar into her coffee, and you smile as you walk up to join her. “Morning, Mom.”

“Good morning, sweetie,” she says, taking a careful sip of her drink. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a log,” you reply with a grin. Grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter, you pull out a few slices and shove them in the toaster. “Do you want toast? I’m making some for me and Chimchim.”

“Just one slice for me,” she says, opening up the dish cabinet and pulling out three plates. Obligingly, you hand her one of the two freshly toasted slices and drop the other onto your plate. Popping some more bread into the toaster, you’re just about to grab the jam from the fridge when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Jimin yells from the living room. You hear the soft pad of his footsteps in the hallway and the low creak of the front door as it swings open—and then your brother is snorting out a laugh at whoever is on your doorstep. “Dude, why are you covered in dirt?”

You’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion as to who your guest is, and it’s confirmed when your brother’s question is answered.

“I’m helping Mom plant some hydrangeas out back,” Jungkook’s voice explains, his tall figure stepping into view a moment later. “Can you come help me lift the bushes?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “You could’ve just texted me.”

“Who knows if you would’ve answered?” Jungkook asks, laughing. “Knowing you, you’d just leave me on read. Besides—” and here he glances over at you, dark eyes glimmering with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint, “—I wouldn’t get to see two of my favorite ladies if I didn’t stop by.”

Jimin pretends to vomit at the line, but your mother laughs delightedly as Jungkook takes another step into the foyer and flashes her a winning grin. “Good morning, Jungkookie,” she greets him. “Have you eaten breakfast yet? {Name} was just making some toast, and we’ve got fresh coffee.”

Jungkook’s gaze slides over to you again, taking in the flannel pajama pants and oversized t-shirt you’re wearing. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours. “I ate already, but coffee sounds wonderful.”

You are beginning to feel increasingly vulnerable as Jungkook continues looking unblinkingly in your direction. Thankfully, your mom pipes up, drawing his attention away with a decisive clap of her hands. “Coffee it is, then!” she says brightly. “{Name}, why don’t you grab Jungkook a cup?”

Hurriedly, you turn toward the cabinets, trying your best to ignore Jungkook as he chats comfortably with your family. Your success is limited though, and you can feel his penetrating stare lingering on your back even as you fetch a mug and fill it up to the brim.

“Noona.” Jungkook’s voice comes from behind you, much closer than you remember him being. “Can I have some cream and sugar, please?”

Somehow, you manage to reply without stammering. “Yeah. Sure.” Dumping some of the excess coffee into the sink, you spoon in some sugar and give it a quick stir. Just as you turn toward the refrigerator for the cream, a strong arm cuts you off.

“I got it, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs, backing you up against the counter as he tucks the little white carton into your outstretched hand. His proximity has your heart skipping several beats, and you almost drop the carton entirely when he speaks again in a husky whisper, his mouth at the shell of your ear. “Just a little bit, please.”

You are acutely aware of the heat radiating off of his body, warming your back and flushing your cheeks. Quietly, you open up the carton and pour a splash of cream into his mug, the swirl of white melding with the dark liquid within. “Is—is that enough?”

Jungkook reaches around you to open up the silverware drawer, grabbing a spoon and giving the coffee a stir. “That’s perfect,” he purrs, his hot breath stirring gooseflesh on the back of your neck.

This close to him, it’s easy to forget where you are and who you’re with, but you somehow manage to regain enough of your senses to wrench away and reclaim your personal space. “G-great,” you stammer, picking up the mug and shoving it into his hands, determinedly ignoring the ripple of his arm muscles as he accepts. “Um. Chim. Did you want your toast?”

“Yes, please,” Jimin says, barely glancing up from where he’s made himself comfortable at the kitchen island, idly playing on his phone.

Your mother pokes her head around the doorframe of the adjoining laundry room, where she has clearly started a fresh load if the sound of splashing water is anything to go by. “Don’t make your sister do all of the work, Jimin. Go help her—it’s your food, isn’t it?”

Obligingly, Jimin hops off the stool and grabs his favorite jar of jam, joining you at the counter. He takes the slice of toast you offer him, slathering it messily and taking an enormous bite. “Thanks for breakfast, Noona,” he says, blowing you an exaggerated kiss. “Ready, Kook?”

Jungkook raises his mug of coffee in acknowledgement. “Ready.” Then his gaze flickers back to you, twinkling with silent mirth. “And Noona—thanks. The coffee’s delicious.”

You can’t find the words to answer. Silently, you watch him disappear out the front door with Jimin, following his dark head of hair as it bobs across the yard. His biceps flex as he gestures for Jimin to help him lift a hydrangea bush, and your eyes linger on the stretch of defined muscle, tracing the network of prominent veins running along his forearm before your brain can caution you to stop. It’s almost as if you’re on autopilot, and by the time you zone back in, your gaze has wandered too far south for your liking. Letting out an audible groan, you tear your eyes away from the mouthwatering view of his thick thighs and return to your now-cold breakfast. And you don’t think about Jeon Jungkook again, pushing the image of his broad shoulders and handsome face into the darkest recesses of your mind.

Or at least, that was the plan. Jimin comes back inside after about an hour, tracking mud through half the house before your mother reprimands him and orders him to take off his shoes. Jungkook, thankfully, chose to return to his own home as well, and you immediately banish the thought of him showering off all the sweat and grime that has no doubt accumulated on his toned body. You shove away the mental image of water slicking his golden skin and collecting in the hollows of his collarbones, and when your mind conjures up pictures of what lies south of his waist, you resist the urge to scream into the pile of freshly laundered pillowcases your mom presses into your arms.

You’re just about to head upstairs to scream into a real pillow when there’s another knock on your front door—a familiar cadence that you heard just this morning. And that’s when you realize—to your complete and utter dismay—that Jeon Jungkook isn’t done tormenting you yet. Not by a long shot.

“You again? You do realize that this isn’t your house, right?” you ask, swinging open the door and thanking whatever gods may be out there that your voice remains steady. Then you raise a brow, glancing down at his change in attire. “Wait, why are you wearing a suit?”

Jungkook gives you an infuriatingly impish grin. “Do I need a reason?” His hair is still damp from the shower, a stray lock flopping down across his forehead, and as you watch him brush it away absently, you notice that he’s holding something in his free hand.

“What’s that?” you ask curiously.

Footsteps sound from behind you, interrupting before he can answer. “Jungkookie?” your mother asks, appearing at the foot of the stairs. “I thought I heard your voice. Are you here for Jimin again?”

Jungkook flashes her a winning smile and raises the garment bag he’s holding. “No, I was actually hoping to get some advice. I’ve got my suit ready to go for graduation tomorrow, but I can’t decide which shirt looks better. My mom likes how I look in blue, but I wanted a second opinion from you and Noona.”

To your utter annoyance, your mother coos and gestures for him to come in. He’s already wearing the blue shirt—a pale periwinkle one that reminds you of a cloudless day—but your mom takes the garment bag out of his hand and unzips it to look inside. “What are your options?” she asks.

“Blue, red, and yellow,” Jungkook replies, pulling each shirt off its hanger and holding them up to his chest in turn. “What do you think, Mrs. Park?”

“The blue is lovely,” your mom says thoughtfully, straightening his collar. “But this shade of yellow looks nice too. A handsome young man like you—you really can’t go wrong with any of these.”

Jungkook grins and scratches behind his ear, trying to hide his embarrassment. “Thanks, Mrs. Park.”

The dryer chooses that moment to beep shrilly, signalling the end of its cycle, and your mother darts off to tend to it, leaving you and Jungkook alone in the living room.

“What about you, Noona?” Jungkook asks, just as you’re about to try and sneak out under the pretense of helping with the laundry. “Which shirt do you like?”

“Does it matter?” you ask. “It’s just going to be hidden underneath those horrible black trash bags they make you wear.”

He laughs. “Sure, but what about before and after? You know my mom’s going to want to take a million pictures.”

“Can’t argue there.” Resigning yourself to your fate, you put your stack of clean pillowcases down on the arm of the couch and cross your arms over your chest. “Show them to me again?”

Jungkook raises the yellow shirt, holding it up for a few seconds before swapping it out for the red. “Well?”

You pause to consider it. “Red,” you decide after some deliberation, pointing at your choice. It’s a deep crimson color—almost burgundy—and you rub the silky material between your fingertips before taking it and replacing it onto its hanger. Jungkook joins you with the yellow shirt, his arm bumping into yours as you both reach for the garment bag, and even though you flinch away from the contact, Jungkook doesn’t let you stray very far. A strong hand clamps down around your forearm, and you inhale sharply when he backs you up against the wall and cages you in with his solid body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Jungkook looks thoroughly unfazed as he blinks a few loose strands of hair out of his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Jungkook—” you hiss, struggling to see over his shoulder if your mother has returned. “Get off me.”

“Come on, Noona,” Jungkook murmurs. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. Ever since you got back—ever since we kissed—”

“A mistake,” you say, cutting him off with a finger to the lips and glancing around furtively to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “That was a mistake.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow. “Was it? Because I really wanted to kiss you, and I’m pretty sure you wanted to kiss me too. You kissed back, didn’t you?”

“Y-you—“ You clear your throat and try again, cringing at how shaky your voice comes out. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But Jungkook simply laughs. “Don’t I?” He inches closer until you’re chest to chest, his gaze darkening as it flickers downward and lands on your mouth. Your heartbeat quickens, thudding erratically in your ribcage. It would be so easy to push to your tiptoes and close the distance between your lips.

“God,” you huff. “You’re so—”

His other eyebrow rises to join the first. “I’m so—?” he presses, tilting his head as he awaits your answer. The loose lock of hair flops across his forehead again, and this time you cannot stop yourself from reaching up to brush it away.

“Shut up,” you hiss as your fingers drop down to wind into the soft hair at his nape. “Just shut up.”

And then you’re kissing him—really, really kissing him—pulling him down to your level and sliding your free hand up his infuriatingly toned chest.

“See?” Jungkook’s lips curl up into a smug smirk as he pulls away slightly, his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “I knew you were into me.”

“God, do you ever stop talking?” you retort, pushing him back until you have enough room to switch your positions and maneuver him against the wall.

Jungkook lets you pin him in place, blinking down at you lazily with his mouth still stretched into that maddening little smirk. “Only if you make me, Noona.” His hands slide down your sides, coming to a stop at your hips in an ironclad grip. “Only if you kiss me like that again.”

So you do. Your fingers tighten in his hair as you crush your mouth to his, and when his lips part you slip your tongue inside. Jungkook—still smirking—relaxes and lets you take control of the kiss, but his hands continue to wander. Before you know it, he’s already snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing warm circles into the soft skin of your waist. His lips move languidly against yours, his tongue careful and gentle in its exploration of your mouth, and you sigh when he tugs you closer. You’re pressed flush against him by this point, pinning him between your body and the wall, and neither you nor he have any intent to move anytime soon.

The sudden slamming of a door jerks you back to reality. Here you are, standing in the living room where anyone could walk by and see you kissing your brother’s best friend—again. Shakily, you pull away from Jungkook with your heart in your throat, putting as much space as you possibly can between your bodies. “Fuck,” you mutter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. We can’t do this.”

Jungkook’s chest is heaving, his lips swollen and red. “{Name}—” he tries, but you shake your head and cut him off before he can continue.

“You need to leave,” you whisper.

“But—”

“Please,” you say, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. “Please, Jungkook. Just leave.”

Jungkook swallows, hard. And then, much to your relief, he picks up his garment bag, shoving both shirts back inside. “Okay,” he rasps. “I’ll go.”

Elsewhere in the house, you can hear your mother calling for Jimin. Your father is watching TV in his study—you can hear the low hum of voices and a laugh track. Your entire family is here.

And yet, you’ve never felt more alone as you watch Jungkook stride down the hallway and disappear out the front door.

///

Returning to your high school is odd. The hallways and classrooms are familiar, but they all seem smaller than you remember. And were the ceilings always this short? You aren’t sure. What you are sure of, however, is that Jungkook and his family are currently headed your way, with beaming smiles on their faces and colorful flower bouquets in hand. Greetings and congratulations are exchanged, and it isn’t long before you are face-to-face with Jungkook himself, a tight smile on his face as he meets your eyes.

“Hi, Noona.”

“Hi,” you reply. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Now that the graduation ceremony is over, he’s taken off his robe to reveal the red shirt underneath. The silky material drapes over his torso and clings to the toned planes of his chest, and your fingers itch to run across the defined muscle. Swallowing down the urge, you instead gesture toward his parents, who are engaged in deep conversation with your own parents while Jimin chats with Junghyun off to the side. “I guess we’re all getting dinner after this, huh?”

He nods. “Yeah, at that one place downtow—“

“Jungkook! Jimin!” A feminine voice interrupts him mid-sentence, and you watch in surprise as both your brother and Jungkook are suddenly engulfed in a massive tangle of limbs. Immediately, you recognize Jisoo and Lisa—two girls you considered casual friends from your own high school days. The third girl in the trio of friends—Chaeyoung—is noticeably absent, but you don’t get a chance to question her whereabouts. “Can you believe it? We’re graduates!” Lisa is saying excitedly, still clutching tightly onto Jungkook’s shoulders. She’s pressed flush against him, her chest molded to his, and the sudden rush of jealousy that takes root in the pit of your stomach takes you aback with its ferocity.

Calm the fuck down, you instruct your pounding heart. Stop it, right now.

“Has Tae told you about the party tomorrow night?” Jisoo asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You guys better be there—and that means you, too, {Name}! It’s been forever since we’ve seen you!”

You clear your throat and attempt to smile. “Yeah, it’s been way too long. It’ll be nice to finally catch up.” Unwillingly, your gaze flickers back over to Jungkook and Lisa, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression when you notice the casual way his arm drapes over her shoulders.

Your attempts are in vain. Jungkook notices your stare immediately, a massive shit-eating grin spreading across his face. One eyebrow rises in a silent taunt, and you swear his grip around her tightens. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you instead turn back to Jisoo, finally voicing the question that’s on your mind.

“So, where’s Chaeyoung? I saw her during the ceremony, but haven’t seen her around since. She didn’t leave already, did she?”

“No, she’s still here,” Jisoo answers, exchanging a look with Lisa. Curiosity piqued, you watch her gaze dart over to Jungkook for a split second before returning to you, a tiny smile gracing her face once more. “She’s with her family right now, but she’ll be at the party tomorrow.”

“I’ll congratulate her there, then,” you say, returning her smile with one of her own. Silently, you wonder at the uneasy glance the two girls had exchanged, but decide not to press it, chalking it up to some senior year drama that isn’t any of your business.

“Well, we should probably get going,” Jisoo says after another beat. “We’re off to dinner.”

“We should be on our way too,” you agree, glancing over at where your parents are still chatting, having absorbed Junghyun into their conversation at some point. Bidding the two girls goodbye, you sidle over to join them, trying your best to subtly nudge your parents toward the door.

After what feels like an eternity, your parents finally decide that they’re ready for a change in scenery. The drive to the restaurant is blessedly short, much to the relief of your grumbling stomach, and you are more than grateful for the brief reprieve from Jungkook and his knowing smirk. It doesn’t last long, however, and you mentally brace yourself when you spot the Jeons’ car in the parking lot of the restaurant. Upon entering, you are quickly ushered to your reserved table where the Jeons are already waiting, and somehow in the shuffle you end up right between Jungkook and Junghyun, the former’s face dissolving into a satisfied grin as he watches you sit down.

Then he turns to Jimin, who’s seated on his other side. “Hey, man.”

You bristle at the blatant way he’s ignoring you. But two can play at that game, so you turn to Junghyun with a winning smile, laying a hand on his shoulder for good measure. The older Jeon brother is four years your senior, but despite the age difference, you’ve always gotten along well.

“Junghyun, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been?”

The elder Jeon grins and leans in to give you a hug. “Good, good—work’s insane, but that’s old news. What about you? How’s school going so far?”

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, hot and heavy. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle under the weight of it, and you resist the urge to shiver. Instead, you give Junghyun’s bicep a final squeeze before pulling away, steadfastly ignoring the way Jungkook lets out a disgruntled hiss from between his teeth.

“School is good,” you tell Junghyun. “I’m trying to get all my general requirements out of the way early, so my first semester wasn’t very interesting. I took some more focused classes in the second, though, which made things infinitely better.”

The elder Jeon laughs. “Guess that means you’re on the right track then, huh?”

“Guess so,” you reply, laughing right along with him.

The server stops by to take drink orders, and your parents take it upon themselves to order food for the table as well. You continue chatting amicably with Junghyun as the server returns with a tray of water, sodas, and soju; beside you, Jungkook does the same with Jimin. The only break in conversation comes when the server—a pretty girl with a chirpy voice and a nametag that reads ‘Mina’—leans over to set a glass of Coke down in front of Jungkook. He thanks her with a crooked smirk and a low purr of gratitude that has her cheeks flushing pink, and it’s all you can do not to gape at him like a fish. The flirtatious quirk of his lips, the seductive tone—it all comes far too naturally to him, and you wonder for a moment just where the old Jungkook has gone. The Jungkook you used to know stammered every time he had to talk to an unfamiliar girl, and had trouble looking even you in the eye despite having known you since grade school.

But now, he’s nowhere to be found. The young man sitting beside you remains as calm as can be, shifting his body toward Mina so that he can request a straw.

“Of course, here you go!” Mina’s gaze lingers on his hand as he accepts the proffered straw, eyes widening when his fingers brush against hers lightly.

“Fast service,” Jungkook remarks, his voice dipping into a low, indolent drawl. “I like that.”

Mina giggles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She’s clearly about to respond to him—flirt right back, undoubtedly—but your father stands up and taps his glass with a spoon before she can open her mouth. “I want to make a toast,” he says, and you send him a silent, heartfelt thank you when Mina wisely chooses to make herself scarce. “Congratulations to Jungkook and Jimin, our two rad grads!”

An audible groan rises up from your side of the table, where Jimin has buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, Dad.”

“What?” your father asks innocently. “I really think you’re rad, grad!”

Jimin groans again, muffled by the sleeves of his jacket. “I want the earth to swallow me whole.”

Laughter all around. More toasts are given, and the bottles of soju scattered around the table slowly dwindle down to their last dregs. Junghyun picks up the one closest to him and fills up your glass for the fourth time, drawing a protesting whine from your lips as you try to cut him off. “Wait, that’s not fair! Pour some for yourself too!”

“Relax, we can always order more,” Junghyun says with a laugh, topping off your glass before glancing around to find Mina. Much to your irritation, she’s already headed your way, bearing loaded platters of meat and vegetables and wearing a bright smile that seems to only be directed to Jungkook.

“I hope you’re all hungry!” she chirps, coming to a stop between you and the subject of her affections. You swear she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder before turning back to the table, her cheerful facade back in place as she smiles at Jungkook. “Where did you want me to put the meat?”

“Anywhere it’ll fit,” Jungkook tells her with a suggestive smirk, keeping his voice soft enough so that only you and she can hear.

Mina cannot hide her answering smile. Likewise, you cannot hide the way your nostrils flare, throat bobbing as you swallow down the ugly feelings bubbling up in your chest. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze roving across your skin, but you refuse to look at him, stubbornly facing the front as Mina distributes food around the table. As soon as she’s departed again—her fingers brushing across the back of Jungkook’s chair in the process—you’re up and out of your seat, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit.

“Restroom,” you say shortly by way of explanation. It’s thankfully empty when you arrive, and you immediately make a beeline toward the sink to splash some cold water on your cheeks.

It’s absurd—this snaking jealousy coiling in your belly and winding up between the slats of your ribcage. Straightening up, you give your reflection in the mirror a stern look, silently willing the feelings in your chest to abate. Gradually, your heartbeat slows into a regular rhythm, your cheeks cooling, and after waiting another two minutes, you decide that it’s been long enough. Drying off your hands, you exit the restroom and wind your way back to the table, keeping your pace leisurely even when Jungkook looks up and catches your eye. His expression is unreadable, and you valiantly ignore his burning gaze as you take a seat.

“How is everything?” you ask Junghyun, picking up a spoon and piling your plate with food from the nearest platter.

Junghyun pauses mid-bite to answer. His mouth opens, but you don’t catch his answer because there is a sudden, heavy weight on your knee. A warm palm caresses the skin exposed by the hem of your dress, slow and sensual and deliberate. Your eyes widen and your lips part, but no sound escapes. The rest of the table’s occupants fade away into the background, conversations and laughter dulling into a low drone. Beside you, Junghyun is still talking, but all you can hear is blood rushing through your ears.

And on your other side, Jungkook is smirking.

The bastard.

Gentle fingertips skim along your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. Your entire body stiffens, but Jungkook refuses to relent. He’s still chatting with Jimin, chuckling at a joke you didn’t hear, and you wonder how he can remain so calm when you are anything but. Your heart takes off in a sprint, clattering wildly against your ribcage, and for a few moments you are absolutely positive that everyone at the table can hear. Any moment, one of your parents will look over and see how wide your eyes are and how warm your cheeks feel. Any moment, Jimin will look down and see his best friend’s arm snaking beneath the table and realize what’s happening.

And then Jungkook squeezes your thigh, and all thought flies out of your head, dissipating like fog in the sunlight. He’s growing increasingly bold, his fingers trailing up until he can trace the hem of your dress, teasing at the soft material. Your breath hitches in your throat, and Jungkook’s smirk widens. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, trying to hide his smugness behind his soju glass, and for a moment you’re tempted to throw his drink in his face.

But more than that—more than anything else right now—you want him to continue touching you.

He’s sliding beneath your dress now, inching down to the delicate skin of your inner thigh and tracing nonsensical patterns there. You grip the edge of the table as he trails closer and closer to the lace of your panties, knuckles turning white against the dark wood. It’s a wonder no one has noticed your flustered state yet, and you cast concerned glances at Junghyun and Jimin before Jungkook notices your inattention. Punishingly, he slides a single finger into your panties, snapping the lace against your skin and covering the sound with a cough that he buries in his elbow. He can’t hide the way you jolt in your seat though, your knee thudding against the table. Junghyun gives you a worried look, laying a hand on your shoulder as he asks if you’re okay, and you hurriedly nod. And underneath the table, Jungkook resumes his ministrations, languorous and soft and deliberately avoiding the place you need him most, as if he has all the time in the world.

There’s a growing damp spot between your legs. You can feel it seeping through the cottony material of your panties, sticking uncomfortably to your folds. Jungkook’s touch is whisper-soft, caressing along your thigh until your skin is tingling, and it’s all you can do to swallow down the whimper that’s bubbling up in your throat. He’s thoroughly enjoying this—you can tell—and you’re certain he can feel the way you tense up when he suddenly drags a single finger up your clothed slit. A low hiss escapes your parted lips, and in an instant, all eyes are on you.

“Noona?” Jimin asks curiously. “Something wrong?”

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for an excuse. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. The, uh, sauce was just spicier than I was expecting it to be.”

You haven’t touched a single thing on your plate in minutes, but no one seems to notice your obvious lie. Conversation resumes, and you determinedly pick up your spoon again, intent on getting something more substantial in your belly than the fluttering butterflies that have taken up residence there.

“You sure you want to eat that, Noona?” Jungkook’s voice reaches your ears—a low, dulcet purr that sends electricity shooting down your spine. “You should probably drink some water to cool down.”

And before you can answer—before you even manage to reach for your water glass—he’s slipped his hand into your panties, the warm pad of his thumb pressing experimentally against your clit. The slight pressure has you gasping, your heart pounding hard enough to leap out of your chest as you drop your spoon. Your hands drop down to your lap—one gripping the edge of your chair while the other finds its way around Jungkook’s wrist, and you aren’t sure whether you’re trying to stop him or spur him on. His arm muscles flex underneath your fingertips, and that’s all the warning you get before he angles his hand, a lone finger sinking inside your drenched entrance.

“Oh, fuck.” You can’t stop the strangled curse that escapes your lips, an airy hiss from behind clenched teeth. Your grip on Jungkook’s wrist tightens, but it doesn’t seem to dissuade him at all as he begins a leisurely pace, sinking deeper into your cunt with each thrust.

Luckily, no one hears your whimper. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you bite back the sounds threatening to spill out and instead focus on maintaining as neutral an expression as you can muster. Beneath the table, Jungkook remains relentless. Even when your mother looks over and addresses him directly, he doesn’t cease his ministrations, keeping both his tone and his pace even as he responds.

“Jungkookie, you’ve barely touched your pork belly. Are you full already?”

“Stuffed,” Jungkook replies smoothly. He punctuates the word by adding a second finger, and you almost bang your knee on the table again, your eyes going wide at his audacity.

Your mother pushes the platter of meat closer to him anyway. “No need to be polite, honey. Here, eat up.”

Obligingly, Jungkook picks out a few pieces with his free hand and piles them on his plate. “Thanks, Mrs. Park,” he says as he brings some to his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

Satisfied, your mother turns her attention elsewhere. Jungkook returns his to you, and you almost groan aloud when his thumb brushes against your clit again, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud before he sheathes both fingers inside you once more. There’s a growing heat coiling in the pit of your stomach by this point, lighting every single one of your nerves on fire. Your body is screaming for release, and Jungkook seems more than eager to give it to you. He’s freed his wrist from your grip, leaving you to clutch helplessly at the table as he angles his fingers upward. No doubt he’s searching for the spot that will have you seeing stars, and you know he’s found it when a sudden burst of pleasure spikes through you. Your mouth falls lax, and Jungkook grins, thoroughly satisfied.

There’s something building inside you, something that has your tummy tensing and your toes curling in your shoes. Jungkook’s fingers dig deep, his palm rubbing against your clit with every thrust, and it takes every remaining ounce of your self-control to resist the urge to rock your hips into his hand. A bit more of that delicious friction, and you’ll be falling over the edge. You know it, and so does Jungkook if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

And then a voice is pulling you back to reality, a warm hand settling on your shoulder. You flinch at the contact, your startled gaze flying up to Junghyun’s, and balk when you see him staring at you with equal parts amusement and concern.

“I—what?” you stammer. “Did… did you say something?”

Beneath the table, you feel Jungkook’s fingers retreat, leaving you empty and aching for release. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook wipe his glistening hand on his napkin, a frown that can only be described as petulant settling onto his face.

“Whoa, relax!” Junghyun drags your attention back to him, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I have to be up early for work tomorrow, so I’m driving back into the city tonight.”

“Oh!” It takes you a few seconds to process his words. “Right, yeah. Have a safe drive back. It was good to see you.”

“Ditto,” he replies, flashing you a warm grin. “But hey, are you all right? You’ve been a little weird the whole night. Was it the food?”

Gratefully, you seize upon the excuse. “Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I think maybe something isn’t sitting quite right in my stomach, but I’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it.”

He nods and leans in for a hug. “Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“You too. Bye, Junghyun.”

With the elder Jeon brother’s departure, everyone else quickly decides that it’s time to disperse as well. You adamantly refuse to look in Jungkook’s direction as your parents fight over the bill, focusing your goodbyes on Mr. and Mrs. Jeon even when he glances your way with a knowing little smirk and a soft murmur of, “Bye, Noona.”

You can’t look at him. Not when every movement reminds you just how damp your panties are, your core begging for relief. Not when he’s waggling his fingers in farewell—the gesture anything but innocent. “Bye,” you warble weakly, before fleeing to the car.

The memory of his fingers burns fresh in your mind later that night as you lie in bed, your hand stuffed down your panties and working furiously to find that sweet, sweet relief.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #kpop scenarios #brother's best friend!au #brother's best friend au #lia writes

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scummy-writes · 10 months ago

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HIS POV - CHAPTER 25

I am snug as a bug with alcohol and blanket. I dont think this is supposed to be a sad POV but...

Ah shit

Theres like. Immediately a lot to unpack. Jesus

Confirmed from birth that this was an issue. Maybe obvious but I couldn't tell if this was something that showed up in his childhood one day, or if it was from birth.

I'm Assuming this is after the surgery. And so that would explain the pain, the out of breath, the Everything Still Hurting So Bad. For a moment I was very confused.

-> I am super curious about the 'never once thought that what I did was wrong' since he constantly describes these as evil things and awful things to do. But if you describe your actions like that, would you not believe that they were wrong? Though I guess in this specific case he means he understands that according to the ideology of others, his actions of killing the corrupt would be seen as 'evil' and 'wrong', whereas he views it as.... i'm assuming necessary.

I think its still fine for me to hc some self harm issues with this, though. Him not sharing the 'this is wrong' belief doesnt mean that he can't be upset over knowing his mother or brother would be severely upset about what hes doing.

Maybe? Idk i want gilbrrt having random moments where he has relapses of his human heart and the weight of his sins crashes upon him in private meltdowns that he forces himself to hide by the time the morning light hits again

-> 'refusing to believe in love' ok mr 'ill write books with the person I love in mind'. Mr 'i'm going to keep an eye on who i love'. Mr 'hearing about this person keeps me going'. Mr 'ive learned to kill with my hands but also to craft my love for her'.

But i do like the worry there. He really does just want reassurances.

-> bet he really just never believed anyone could love someone like him. The "really? Really..." hits really hard

-> "for the first time in my life, I actually feel guilty" [over the prank] .... ['prank']

I just like these details.

Him taking pride in the work on Healing people rather than being known as a nation of killing....damn

-> "and honestly, being alive makes my plan a little more difficult, but--- Whatever. I'm happy, and you look happy, so what does it matter? I decided that since I was a villain, I could act like one, and just give myself over to the things I was feeling, even if only for one day"

Oooooh my god you let it slip that youre bad at the mental mindset of a villain once again. I feel like a 100% bad guy would RELISH in the feelings he wants to experience without even thinking of it like this... you're 85% villain babey.

-> "i'd set things up that way so that she could return to Rhodolite at any time, but I did not need to worry about that anymore"

Amazing. Everything in his plan even had her being able to safely go back home and live without him. She'd prob go home thinking he was still alive and that he was a weird dude that was facinated with her for a few weeks and that was that. My god dude. He was fine with just Some happiness with her before he died, even if she was wary and worried the whole time.

-> even though he still very much wants to destroy the cincept of an imperial family, he's now undecided on if he wants to die then or not. Amazing. This isnt pussy power at work here since they havent banged, he's just finding more hope in life since the person he loved for so long loves him back.

-> interesting details

-> also that blurb about how she had been raised explains SOOOOO much of why she is naive at times, because she genuinely hadn't been faced with too much issues as she was raised. Now my complaints about her seem more null and void with this.

WAILS

There we gooo, validation for the "hes testing her i think" comments i had scattered in these notes. I guess its obvious but it feels nice to have confirmation from the game.

Throws my phone so i dont get tears on it

"It felt like I was the one being conquered" AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

GILBERT ROUTE SPOILERS POST - HIS POV - ROMANTIC

Like the other notes (here), I am continuing my thoughts/notes on Gilbert's route. This post will focus on the His Povs for specifically the romantic end, since I've already done that ending.

I'll be reblogging this post each chapter or so with personal thoughts and general screaming under a cut. I'll be having it in a format with the chapter numbered, and then a cut directly after where I'll be yelling. I already know some major spoilers with gilberts route, so if you have not finished his route yet, be wary.

I'll be using the tags 'Scum Simps' and 'scum plays gil route' for those of you who want to filter it out. Thank u!

#scum simps #scum plays gil route

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snowdice · 3 years ago

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Little Kestrel (Part 41) [Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb, sexual coercion of minors implied, a minor offering sexual favors

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted (and possibly some future content), look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39

Virgil, despite cautiously believing the king’s words, was still half surprised when he wasn’t immediately thrown into the dungeon upon leaving the safety of the walls with the man. He didn’t even call the guards. Instead, he just calmly led Virgil down a set of stairs with a warm, not restraining, hand on his shoulder.

Virgil didn’t know what to think. He didn’t understand how he could not be in trouble for smacking the prince, but he was also cold, tired, and hungry from his days spent in the castle walls. He’d once been used to being all of those things, but now after only living in the castle for a little over a month, they stung a little harder. He even found himself leaning into the kings hand a bit, having missed hugs from Patton and Logan in the last few days.

He’d memorized enough about the castle layout to know they were going in the direction of the kitchen. He also knew that it was midafternoon between lunch and supper being served. There weren’t many people in their path except for the guards and they didn’t even give him a second glance.

The king took Virgil through the same side entrance Patton and Logan often used instead of through the dining hall. Patton’s mom’s office door was closed and instead of going all the way to the kitchen, the king paused to knock on it.

“Helen,” the king called through the door. “Would you mind coming out here please?”

“Just a moment,” was called back through the door and after just a few seconds the door was opening. Her eyes landed on him, and she immediately looked relieved. “Virgil,” she said. “Goodness where have you been? Patton’s been worried sick.”

Virgil bit his lip, unsure what to say to that. He’d assumed Patton would be mad at him too when he learned Virgil had hit Logan, but then again, according to the king not even Logan was mad.

“Would you mind making something for him to eat?” the king asked.

Her eyes snapped to him. “Oh, yes, of course. Virgil, sweetie, what do you want?”

Virgil just shrugged.

“Ham sandwich for now,” she said studying him, “and then I’ll make something more for dinner. Let me go grab your meal preference cards.” She stepped back into her office and grabbed the little box off of her desk full of the cards she always sent with any new food she served Virgil, so he could rank them.

Virgil watched, confused. He never did quite understand Helen with her endless willingness to feed him and to get his opinion about what she fed him with. She always reminded him of Patton with how kind she often was, though she was a little stricter than Patton ever had the heart to be.

There was no sternness to her now, however. She was fussing over him as she led them to the kitchen and started warming water for tea before grabbing the ingredients needed for the promised ham sandwich.

She made him clean his hands of the dirt and dust they’d acquired from days crawling through secret passageways before handing him the sandwich. Thomas at one point stepped out of the kitchen for a few moments but was back quickly with a smile. Virgil smiled back at him hesitantly. He was still surprised he was in the kitchen drinking warm tea and eating a sandwich as the head chef personally fretted over him.

The king also accepted a mug of tea and didn’t even watch over it closely despite Virgil sitting right there in poisoning distance. Instead of looking worried or angry when he noticed Virgil staring at him and his mug, he simply smiled softly and ask him if he needed more tea.

This man… was an idiot.

Virgil had thought that Logan wasn’t careful about his own personal safety, but apparently Logan had actually improved upon his family’s habit of being reckless. Virgil would have to complement him and provide him with more opportunities for growth if he was that willing to grow and adapt.

…If Logan didn’t hate him now.

Thomas said he wasn’t mad, but he could be lying or wrong. Virgil had hit Logan. Virgil knew he’d never been fond of the people who’d hit him. Of course, in this case, Virgil hadn’t meant to do it, but he still had. Even if Logan wasn’t actively mad, there was the possibility that he wouldn’t like Virgil anymore. That was almost worse because people who were mad might eventually calm down and forgive you, but if someone just decides emotionlessly that they don’t like you anymore, that’s a lot harder to reverse.

Logan had always been nice to him despite being a prince who didn’t need to give him the time of day and despite knowing why Virgil had come here. Logan was his friend. He didn’t want to lose that.

He finished off the ham sandwich pretty quickly and Patton’s mom almost immediately set down a plate of cheese and crackers.

“Thank you,” Virgil said softly.

“Of course,” Ms. Heart said, and Virgil jumped a bit in surprise when a hand touched his head, but calmed down after just a moment. It wasn’t that different than Patton, though he wasn’t that used to adults touching him. At least not gently or at all in the castle. “I’m glad you’re okay.” The hand stayed in his hair for only a second longer before pulling away. “Hmm,” she said. “Have you been living in the walls perchance?”

Virgil nodded at her.

“Ah,” she said, wiping off her hand on her apron. “Perhaps a bath would be in order after you finish eating.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

“More tea?”

He nodded again and she moved to take his mug over to the kettle. He turned to pop one of the crackers with cheese into his mouth and was still chewing when the nearest door suddenly sprung open.

He flinched, looking up to see Logan in the doorway, breathing like he’d run all the way from the other side of the castle. “Virgil,” he said sounding relieved. He’d crossed the room before Virgil had a chance to get anxious and was wrapping him up in a hug before he could do more than lightly flinch in surprise. “Thank goodness you’re okay. Where have you been?”

“In the walls,” Virgil replied.

Logan rubbed a circle into his back and hugged him harder. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Virgil jerked in surprise. “Why are you sorry?”

“I made you run away,” he said. “You were scared of me.”

“I hit you,” Virgil pointed out confused.

“It was an accident. You were having a bad day and I touched you without permission. It was my fault.”

“I…” Virgil said, “but…”

“I’m not going to be angry when it was just an accident, Virgil,” Logan said.

Virgil didn’t know what to say. He tucked his head against Logan’s shoulder and sniffled a bit. “Sorry anyway,” he said.

“It’s okay,” Logan said. Virgil felt a kiss being pressed to the top of his head. “Patton and I were really worried.”

“Oh,” he said. Tears started to leak from his eyes as he sniffled more. Logan just held him even tighter to the point it was starting to restrict breathing, but Virgil didn’t want him to let go. “Sorry,” he said again.

“Hush,” was the gentle response. The hug continued for a long few moments before Logan pulled back to look at him. “You are very dirty,” he commented.

“You’re a bit dirty now too,” Ms. Heart pointed out with a chuckle. Logan glanced down at his front. You could see an outline of Virgil’s body on his clothes.

“Ah,” he said. “It seems I am.” He seemed amused though, and honestly if he wasn’t going to be mad at Virgil for slapping him and then running away and hiding for days, he probably wasn’t going to be mad about that.

The king and Patton’s mom also didn’t seem unhappy with him getting the prince messy when he glanced at them. Ms. Heart seemed entertained, and the king was just smiling.

Virgil felt himself calming down more than he had in days, assured that Logan didn’t hate him and tentatively trusting that neither of the adults planned to lash out at him anytime soon. Ms. Heart handed him his refilled mug of tea and pointed him back at the food. Virgil relaxed fully into his chair.

Until, of course, the door blasted back open, word having gotten to Patton who proceeded to strangle him with a hug and cry at him loudly, but that was okay too.

Want to read more? Click below!

Part 42

Birds of Different Feathers Master Post

My Masterpost

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #character thomas sanders #adriana writes #little kestrel #birds of different feathers #implied/referenced child abuse #assassination attempt #past torture #captivity

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moonbaby26 · 4 years ago

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Title: Escape

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Notes: Actual pairing interaction starts in the second section after the Reader character gets out of the elevator, feel free to skip down to that if you like. Reader thinks about Peter in the first section, but it is more setting up how they got so separated from the others, plus a Wolvie cameo. I wanted Peter x Reader to be able to have more interaction away from the group.

Summary: Continuation of previous chapter. Set during X-Men: Age of Apocalypse. You and the others have been taken to Stryker’s base and must survive to find your way out together.

Warnings: Wolverine cameo advisory with a 100% chance of stabby stab. Mild language.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

“The day of reckoning is here.”

Your eyes opened at once, that unmistakeable voice now reverberating through your mind as fluorescent lights passed one after another above you.

“Professor?” You breathed aloud, immediately trying to sit up on the moving gurney.

But the restraints were drawn too tightly as your head only rebounded backward just as quickly when your torso didn’t rise in tandem.

“Shit!” the guard to your left cursed, his hand drawing back from the gurney rail at your sudden movement.

You turned your head towards him, confused, even as the professor’s words continued in your mind.

Yet Xavier’s voice sounded strange, forced. And you didn’t understand the context. Was it a warning? A threat to someone?

It didn’t really seem to fit the current circumstances to say it was directed at you or your captors. But he only kept speaking.

“The dawn of a new era will emerge. For there is nothing you can do...to stop what is coming.”

The two guards were looking around too then, reacting in sync with the telepathic message leaving you no doubt that they could hear it as well.

But why would Xavier be in their heads too? Did he already know where you were?

One guard chided the other, as if the two of them didn’t both have the same frightened expression. “Damn stun pulse is wearing off it is all, just hurry up and finish this transport. Colonel Stryker wants it taken to the lower testing bay,”

“Don’t tell me you aren’t hearing that voice?” The other guard retorted, “What the hell is that?”

Did they just call you an ‘it’? What was this place? Not a hospital surely. But you could barely dwell on the implications of the guard’s words ‘lower testing bay’, and the impending threat that represented as your last memories finally began to bubble up.

The X-Mansion in rubble, the helicopters swooping in over the trees, the students and staff unconscious in the grass, that soldier cracking your ribs, and-

Peter.

He was a stranger to you still, but he’d been right there against you. Surely you had drawn more attention to him just because your powers had let you resist a few moments longer than the others. Because you’d been so stubborn, not going down until you’d been forced to.

If these men had hurt any of your friends, you would be furious. But if Peter, who had also saved so many of your friends was now in more severe danger because of your actions, you wouldn’t forgive yourself.

“Where did you take the others!?” You arched against the restraints abruptly, your palms opening to face upward, trying to summon any bit of your energy at all. A wisp, an orb, anything that could have helped you right now. You had to find your friends.

But nothing came. Not even a glow or flicker of what you truly were as you now had both guards’ full attention.

“Freak! Just shut up!” One of them shoved the gurney in retaliation to your outburst, the caster wheels rattling across the concrete floor before the bed rail hit against one of the walls, jarring you painfully.

“Those with the greatest power. Protect those without. That's my message to the world.”

Xavier concluded his words then. And somehow, that sounded more like himself than any of the rest of it. The real meaning still eluded you, but hearing him in that tone at least meant he was okay. He was somewhere urging the rest of you on. At least this part you knew was true as you took a calming breath, realizing panic and anger would serve you nothing right now.

Something was blocking your powers. That much was obvious. It would be unrealistic to think that the effects of any stun weapon would be this long lasting though.

On the other hand, you knew chemicals existed that could also temporarily block mutations. Hank used one almost medicinally whenever he didn’t wish to be in his true “Beast” form. But it had to be injected direct into the veins to have any real effect.

You could feel that they hadn’t removed any of your clothing, nor had they rolled up the long sleeves you were wearing. You doubted they would risk a chemical like that wearing off at an inopportune time and likely would have started an IV if they possessed anything of that nature.

There were no tubes or lines attached to you that you could tell, only the restraints now holding you to this bed. Leather straps across your body, metal cuffs on your ankles and wrists-

But wait, you were able to move your head as you’d already discovered. You shifted it again, trying to get a better feel of what was around your neck. Metal as well, but loose as you could still lift your head up enough to see it just a bit. It and its dull, red status light.

Inhibitor collar, you realized with an all new dread sinking in. You had heard of these of course, but it was the kind of thing that students sheltered at Xavier’s school would never have to dream of really. Something you never thought you’d have to experience personally.

How naive.

But you still couldn’t give up. Your mind was racing as you tried to come up with any strategies now. Your options were so limited, but they couldn’t keep you tied down forever. Surely they’d have to move you to a more permanent containment at some point, untie you if even for a moment.

Yet, there were guns as well. You hadn’t missed that detail, but you considered it more fully now as you glanced to the long barrells swaying behind each guard’s back as they pushed you along.

They were slowing now though. You raised your head enough again to see elevator doors nearing. The lower testing bay, you remembered them saying.

But just as one guard had started to reach for the keypad beside the doors, an alarm blared, all three of you startling at the sound.

Orange lights lit up along the walls, spinning in time with the sirens.

“Weapon X is loose. I repeat, Weapon X is loose!” A man’s unnerved voice sounded over speakers you couldn’t see, echoing down the corridors.

You could only watch as both guards spun around on their heels at that, guns immediately drawn. The one thing you could be absolutely sure of then, was that you were now the very least of their concerns.

Before you could consider how to use this surprise in your favor though, screams and the echo of gunfire erupted seemingly on top of you all.

The guards were terrified. This could be your only chance.

“Take this collar off of me, please! I can help you!” You weren’t begging as much as you were truly trying to reason with them. “Look, this is serious right!?”

More men were screaming just around the corner. Only feet away now. Clearly their time to consider had run out.

You saw one of the guards glance down at you, weighing your offer if just for that moment. The other was still staring straight ahead, gun braced, body rigid.

“FIRE!” The one not looking at you screamed, and that was it. It was too late.

You flinched as the gunfire rang deafening in your ears, the muzzle flashes just above you while empty bullet shells rained onto the floor.

You didn’t know how many bullets their gun magazines could hold, but the barrage seemed to just go on and on until an inhuman snarl rose even above the pounding gunshots.

Like a blur he was upon them. One guard was immediately thrown against a nearby wall, as if he were made of paper. His gun didn’t even faze the attacker.

You were frozen as you had to watch him die in front of you. Metal blades impaled the guard, blood splatter running down the wall as his body fell. You wished the other guard would have just turned and ran, but that probably would have been fruitless now too if you were being honest.

The attacker had turned immediately back around, one slash knocking the gun away from the remaining guard, and the second taking out his throat.

You were too in shock to do anything but close your eyes in the moment you felt some of the blood hit you. It was warm was all you could really process, before you opened your eyes again to now see the killer standing over you.

His breath was fast, eyes black, no emotion evident but rage. He had no clothing on him above the waist, just muscular and bloodied with metal cords coming out of his body and attaching to some sort of helmet.

You heard the random sound of more bits of metal hitting the ground, and thought you saw a few bullets working out in reverse from his flesh.

He was one of you then, a mutant.

But you were afraid to speak. Anything could set him off again.

He was looking down at you, through you really. You thought you saw his eyes go to your throat. The collar? Or maybe you just imagined it. Everything was happening in just seconds.

His arm swung suddenly, those blades were part of him you realized, attached to his fists as they came for you. At least it would be a quick death.

You felt a burning, heard ripping and even the metal of the bed breaking as he struck more than once.

“He’s here!” Someone else screamed from back down the hallway and the gunfire started all over again.

You moved at the sound, why you didn’t know, it should have been all over regardless. But in your amazement, you realized you could move. His claws had broken through the restraints, broken the bolts that held you to the bed. You were bleeding, but only from cuts as he’d grazed you.

He’d freed you.

The gurney tumbled over with a clatter as you jumped from it. But bullets were hitting all around you as the guards continued to fire at him. You still had the inhibitor collar on, so you couldn’t defend from that. You weren’t bulletproof like him.

And he was already charging them again, but there were so many this time. A bullet grazed your arm, and you knew you had to get out of there now.

You turned, hitting the elevator keypad. You had no choice as you wouldn’t make it out of this hallway otherwise. You ducked inside as soon as the doors opened, trying to stay against the sides even as bullets were now hitting the back of the elevator. The only way was down, and you took it.

As the doors closed, and the elevator finally sank below the firing line, you allowed yourself some real breaths.

To think, just hours ago your main concern had only been whether or not you were ready for Hank’s organic chemistry final. You’d laugh if you weren’t still trembling a little, clothes torn and blood all over, most of it not even your own.

Now it was time to find the others and a way out.

—————————

“(Y/N)?” You heard in your mind, pausing in the abandoned hallway you were now wandering down. You’d left the elevator behind some time ago, but hadn’t yet found any other way back off this level.

“Jean?” You answered aloud, both surprised and relieved. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. We are now. I saw them take you too, but where are you?”

Talking to a telepath was always a bit strange. You could feel her own stress and anxiety as she began to fill your mind. She wanted to see what you were seeing.

You looked around you to oblige her, but from what you could tell every corridor only looked like more of the same in this labyrinth.

“I got into an elevator when all the shooting started, when that man-“

“Logan. We met him too. He’s escaped now, he-” She paused, your recent memories now visible to her. “He helped you.”

“He did.” You felt she both was and wasn’t surprised at this.

“Anyway,” She continued as if something was distracting her, like she was physically talking to someone else, while mentally talking to you. “The Professor needs us. We’re sending Peter to find you. He’ll bring you to us and then we’re leaving together.”

“Okay,” Was all you could answer, as you felt Jean leave your mind abruptly at that. You remembered Xavier’s odd speech earlier, something you really hadn’t had time to deconstruct any further with everything else that had happened immediately after. You supposed they would fill you in when you were all reunited.

But you did feel a significant weight leave your shoulders at the mention of Peter’s name, even though it sounded like this horrific day was still far from over. He was okay too then at least. You hadn’t screwed up enough to get him hurt in a way you couldn’t take back.

Yet how long would it take for him to find you? Should you just stay in place, or go back to the elevator now? You hadn’t found any stairwells or other-

“(Y/N)?”

You’d be lying to say you didn’t almost fall over in surprise as a tiny gust of air was the only other thing that announced him as Peter was suddenly standing beside you.

“You’re as bad as Kurt!” You gasped, before you could stop yourself. You clenched one fist at your side, at least having the self control not to punch him right in the arm as you might have done with some of the boys at school if they had given you that kind of scare.

“That’s the blue kid with the tail right? Not to be confused with the big blue hairy guy, he’s the one that told me your name by the way, or the blue famous chick from TV?” He shook his head, but his eyes were amused. “You guys have some kind of quota on the color blue or what?”

You stared at him. He did like to talk didn’t he?

When you didn’t respond right away, you saw his eyes wander down, then back up. “Red said you’d be a bit of a mess, but you sure you’re okay?”

Your shirt was torn from well, now you knew him as Logan...that man’s claws. Those cuts were still bleeding a bit, but the guard’s blood was on you as well. The metal shackles were also still on your wrists and ankles, though their chains had been broken, and the inhibitor collar was around your neck. Yes, you must look quite a sight.

“You mean Jean,” you corrected. She must have given him some warning at least before sending him. “Yeah, I’m fine. So you found another way out of here, we should-”

But he didn’t seem to be listening, either that or you weren’t very convincing on the being okay sentiment.

He looked quite serious all of the sudden. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you when Colonel douchebag was trying to work you over.”

You blinked. What was he talking about?

“Stryker I guess they said his name was, the guy that kicked you back at the house.” He just continued. “That piece of shit bailed already.”

“How did you know about that?” You asked honestly. Peter had been unconscious as far as you’d known.

“I mean I was in and out,” He answered, seemingly understanding your confusion now. “But uh...” He hesitated, kind of an awkward smirk building then. “I definitely remember you laying on me. The impact wasn’t that great, but afterward was pretty nice.”

Your felt a heat rising to your face immediately. The absurdity of being physically embarrassed at his implication and tone, as you stood here literally bleeding in the belly of some mutant torturing black ops lab was not lost on you.

��Look, I...” You didn’t even know what to say, but you knew if you didn’t start talking now you were never going to recover control here. “I’m really glad they didn’t hurt you, and I’m sorry too if I got you involved deeper in all of this. And I want to thank you for pulling everyone out of the mansion this morning. We owe you so much. I just-” Oh man, where were you even going with this? You looked to him still feeling like you were just digging yourself deeper, “You can stop me anytime now you know?”

He was now outright grinning. “You’re welcome, babe.”

Not helping. AT ALL.

You were staring at him again. “They’re going to be waiting on us, you know,” You felt you were going to be pleading with him in a moment.

“I know, places to be, worlds to save...” He just moved closer and you tensed a little bit. He noticed, but stood his ground. “I have to brace you or you’re just going to be hurt even more when I run you back to them.”

“So is that how you do it, then? You’re just that fast?” You asked honestly. His actual mutation wasn’t something there’d been any chance to discuss. You could infer only so many ways he would have been able to evacuate those in the mansion almost instantaneously. But you knew teleporters too, even people who could move through reality on other planes. There was always more than one way to do something.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” He chuckled, smirking enough for you to know he was still just picking with you as one of his hands went behind your head and the other to your ribs to brace you. He really did know where you’d been hit then.

His hands were warm, and you could smell that damn cologne again now as you tried to ready yourself for whatever was about to happen.

You didn’t know what you had expected. You knew how it felt to take off in a jet, or slam the gas pedal down in one of the Professor’s expensive cars, or ride on a really intense roller coaster. But this wasn’t that. There wasn’t even any time for your brain to register the acceleration. It felt like just a single heartbeat before you were standing back in front of those elevator doors with him.

It was the deceleration that hit you. By the time your body knew it was moving, it had already stopped again, your organs lurching and your equilibrium completely thrown off as vertigo took over. You leaned forward immediately, trying not to dry heave as puking seemed almost imminent.

He took one of your hands, his other hand moving down from your ribs to your waist as he helped support you still.

“It’ll pass. It happens to everyone the first time,” He spoke, probably the softest tone you’d heard from him to this point.

“You’re telling me there are people who have been-” You swallowed, fighting that nausea back down. “have been with you multiple times?” You meant to say multiple times like that. People who needed to be rescued this way multiple times. You stood up, still queasy as you tried to face him and correct this blunder immediately. Why did this guy have you so flustered!?

“I’m not normally like this,” you stammered, waiting for some great retort from him as you’d just left yourself wide open with that slip.

It was only then that you realized he still had one hand on your waist, and you were now facing him, just inches apart. And the silence was worse. It was much worse while he was just looking back at you.

“No,” He finally said, “I uh...I don’t have anyone that’s stayed around long enough for that.”

He wasn’t joking at all now and you knew it.

“I didn’t mean...” You started, but stopped again when you didn’t know how to finish.

But the vulnerability was gone just as soon as it’d come. His smirk returned as he let go of you, moving forward to hit the keypad for the elevator. “I did look for stairwells by the way, if you were wondering. It only took me as long as it did to find you down here because this damn elevator is slow as hell.”

You actually were a little relieved to finally be focusing back to the task at hand. But you still felt an unspoken conversation lingering that would need to be continued later. You wanted him to know who you really were.

And honestly...you now wanted to know who he really was.

The harsh buzz from the keypad brought you back to attention as Peter hit it again.

A tiny screen blinked “CODE ERROR” in red as he groaned. “It didn’t need a damn code to come down, that makes no sense!”

You responded in a few moments, realizing the likely truth fairly quickly. “But it would make sense if you were more concerned about things getting out of the lab than you were of things getting in.” The same would be true for the lack of entry and exit points. They surely weren’t concerned with fire safety or anything else but keeping their specimens captive when they built this place.

“Ugh, that’s dark,” He answered, glancing at you and then back to the keypad. “You’re almost making me not feel so bad for all the guys that looked like swiss cheese on the way down here. But lucky for you, you’ve got me, and these five hombres.” He waved his fingers at you before immediately beginning to punch in multiple codes in faster succession than of course would have been possible for anyone else.

“Peter, I don’t think-” You started, already having a good suspicion of how this might play out, before the keypad abruptly quit accepting inputs, the tiny screen then blinking LOCKOUT. The only thing that did surprise you was a new even thicker door suddenly closing over the original elevator doors.

And you couldn’t help it then. You laughed. A real laugh. It was just the dumbest icing on the cake. “Okay, Han Solo. I think that will do.” You didn’t care if he would understand the reference or not. You needed that laugh right now.

But he didn’t let you down. Not even for a moment. “Okay then Leia, then you show me how we’re getting past here to save the ugly little ewoks.”

You were still snickering a little, but you shook your head. “I can’t,” You motioned to the inhibitor collar still around your neck. “Not with this on. It’s blocking my powers.” You had hoped once you were all back topside that Hank would be able to disarm the thing. It was probably radio controlled or something like that. “We’ll have to wait on Jean and the others to realize we’re taking too long, they’ll come for us.”

“I don’t wait,” Peter retorted. “Besides, like I said, I showed you mine. Time to show me yours.” He tilted his head, eyeing you. “Really, I’ve been dying to know.”

“Sure you have,” You were skeptical, but it was actually hard to read him right now. Was he actually that curious about you? “And I’ve already tried to take it off, it doesn’t budge.”

“Again, babe. You didn’t have me before.” The smug tone was back, as he evidently had some plan you didn’t know if you were going to like or not.

“You realize, this thing is nearly against my jugular veins, right? What are you going to do?” You had every right to be hesitant you thought. Especially after the keypad failure.

“Just be still. I’m going to vibrate it apart.” He answered confidently.

Okay, now you really didn’t like this. “Again, head, throat, things I need to stay in one piece. What if it has some self destruct thing and explodes?”

“I can pull you away from that before it even burns you. How do you think your friends lived when your house blew up this morning?”

You could have mentioned Alex’s fate then, but that would have been needlessly cruel. Alex must have already been gone before Peter even entered the building. He did save everyone else you thought.

“Trust me,” Peter looked you in the eyes and you could feel yourself relenting.

You really did believe him it seemed. Hopefully that faith was not misplaced. “Please be careful,” You closed your eyes, going stock still.

“For you? Of course.”

You heard his jacket move, which told you he was raising his arms. Internally you tensed-

And then all you heard were pieces of metal and circuitry skittering across the floor in every direction. You were still standing exactly as you had been as you opened your eyes to a too pleased with himself Peter.

“Some shrapnel did try to go into your face, but I moved the pieces. No kaboom though.” His expression changed then to happily expectant, “So come on, I’ve helped three times now, the stage is now yours,” He made an exagerrated motion to the big metal door now blocking the elevator. “What’s your poison?”

Poison? An interesting way to put it, but you knew what he meant. All mutant abilities were both a gift and a curse. Yet even after all these years of meeting people of your own kind, it was still very personal to show someone your real self for the very first time.

Especially when you evidently cared what he thought of you as you realized your nerves were suddenly about much more than just being able to get open a door or not. How would he react?

You took a breath, still extremely aware of his eyes on you as you turned your palms upward. It was always easiest to start with your hands. But you’d need to bring the energy all the way through you to get the kind of power it was going to take to pull this door out.

There was a slight relief in you as your hands began to glow white after a moment. At least you knew you were no longer defenseless, that these people hadn’t taken your abilities permanently.

In your peripheral vision you could see Peter shift, but you didn’t look to him, trying to concentrate as the energy spread up your arms and you closed your eyes. It always felt so warm, like being in the sun on a clear day. It spread to your chest, legs, up your shoulders and over your face. Even through your hair as you willed the energy to lift you up, now completely enveloped until you were a silhouette of a person. Glowing in soft white light and levitating about a foot off the floor.

You opened your eyes again, feeling you had things in control enough now to speak to him. The tone of your voice changed slightly in this form though. There was a hum to it, the energy moving across your vocal chords like every other part of you.

“I’m going to try and pull the door out of the way and into the hall. Please be ready to move as I won’t have a lot of control over it once it gives. My effort is going to all be on breaking it.”

You looked to him after a moment though when he didn’t respond. You knew he was fast enough to keep himself safe obviously, but you had to be sure he was ready. Was he really just staring at you? “Peter?”

He blinked. “Yeah, uh. That’s...” He stepped back from the door, but never took his eyes off you, this weird expression on his face. “That’s cool.”

“Please mind the door,” You reiterated gently, not quite sure what to make of his reaction to your powers.

“Sure, sure thing.” He sounded more like himself then. “Do your deal.”

Your deal as he put it, involved willing this same energy now in a field around the door as you rose your hand up to control it. Once you were sure you had it solidly, you began pulling your hand back, trying to pull the door out of its railing.

It gradually started to creak, but like you’d thought, this was going to take some real doing. You pulled harder and harder, the metal just groaning louder. “Come on,” You spoke, not really sure if you were talking more to yourself or the door.

Your arm was starting to really ache with the effort. But just when you thought you might have to try something else after all, you finally felt the door give. And when it gave, it did so spectacularly. This massive chunk of metal collapsed, exploding out of its rail as it rocketed down the hallway. You just moved to the side to avoid it, the smaller pieces hitting you harmlessly in this form.

To your eyes it only looked like Peter disappeared and then reappeared as he also easily missed all the debris.

Once that obstacle was out of the way, you glided down, back to the normal elevator doors. They were slightly damaged from the removal of the larger door. But now it only took minimum effort to force them open.

You entered the elevator, the inner keypad was also blinking that same “LOCKOUT” error from earlier. So the elevator itself was going nowhere. But this was now no longer an issue for you.

“I can carry us up,” You looked to Peter, though unsure how comfortable he would be with this new idea.

He was standing at the entrance of the elevator already, watching you still. You could see the wheels in his head turning. And then he finally asked. “So, you’re glowing...and flying. Is this like radioactive glow, or I just need some sunscreen kind of glow?”

“It’s just light energy in the visible spectrum.” You answered reflexively. “But not even UV, the wavelength itself doesn’t cause any damage. It’s only when I make it solid or make it unstable that I can do anything harmful with it.”

You could see he may have skipped the lessons on long and short wave energy and radiation in science class as he just kept staring.

“You’re fine, it’s safe” You smiled. Certainly not the first time you had heard such questions. “The Professor and Hank had me tested from the very beginning, I never would have been allowed so close to other students without more precautions if I was that dangerous.”

“So you’re...close to some other students?” He asked almost tauntingly, one eyebrow raised, and it took you a moment before you realized he may be getting back at you for your comments from before.

It was probably just the fact that you were in your energy form now, but you felt confident enough to respond just as quickly, “It’s more like the Brady Bunch than what you’re thinking. Like having a whole house of little brothers and sisters.”

You had already opened up the ceiling of the elevator while the two of you talked, looking up now to the empty shaft and elevator cables. It’d be much easier to move the two of you rather than to try and lift the whole elevator. You reached a hand out to Peter. “I can lift us up the shaft to the floor that the others are on and open the doors, then you can take us to them. Deal?”

You had trusted him to bring you here, as well as to remove that collar from you. Would he now trust you to bring him up several floors without dropping him?

He was looking at your hand. “I probably could just run up the walls you know.”

You paused, realizing you hadn’t considered that. You didn’t really know what all he was capable of truly. But just as you started to lower your hand, he surprised you by grabbing and holding it.

“Yet how many guys can say they flew with you, huh?”

“Practically none,” You admitted. “I don’t make a habit of picking up my friends.”

“You aren’t quite building confidence here.”

“I’m sure that door weighed more than you.”

“And look how it ended up. Again, not comforting.”

This guy was truly something else. “Come here, we take much longer and they really are going to be sending a search party for us.”

You extended the energy from your hand across his body gently. He was obviously much lighter than the door, and the closer you kept him, the easier it would be to move the both of you.

You tried not to make eye contact with him again as you levitated the two of you through the top of the elevator and up through the shaft. Even though you knew you were fully capable of doing this, you still didn’t want to lose focus.

But his voice didn’t sound frightened at all as he spoke up to let you know how high to go. “They’re on the top floor, we’re stealing a jet to get out of here.”

“Wow, but okay. Got it,” You sped up a little at that, no longer worried about passing your landing point as you went straight to the top.

When you reached the highest doors, you were able to force them open with a turn of your free hand, bringing you and Peter safely through and back onto solid ground.

You powered down immediately as your feet met the floor, the light fading back into your body until you were just standing there in your torn, bloody clothes once more. “Okay, I’m ready to get nauseous again, let’s go.”

He actually squeezed your hand before he let go of it in order to brace your head and ribs again. “For the record that felt pretty good. You’re really warm. Zero g’s was cool too. Thanks.”

“Um...you’re welcome?” You answered, a little flustered all over again to your own dismay, and really not knowing what else to say before he whisked you away in an instant.

It really was going to be the longest day ever.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

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