#even just a tiny hue shift would be fine to fix this.

[hollowsart]

Shiny minior? looks SO GOOD.

Shiny hunting it? yeah good luck with that.

I know the dex states that the color of its core changes depending on what the composition of the dust is that it eats, but consider: meteors/meteorites also come in varied colors on the outer shell. SO!

I submit this change:

#ghostie mumbles #even just a tiny hue shift would be fine to fix this. #my edit #pokemon #minior #shiny pokemon #shiny minior

[2kmps]

BED-REST IS BEST

howl pendragon x sick!reader | 2.1k

synopsis; while sophie and michael are away fetching you bone broth for your illness, howl decides to pay you a visit.

story warnings; sick!reader, howl is a pompous turd, book!howl-coded, interrupted kiss, roughly proofread, posted 2021.

Sophie supposed the malady came on the winds of spring, carrying with it all manner of sickness, unpleasantness, and turbid air just the thinnest tinge of green from particles of pollen. She herself felt the effects of the great thaw, the budding tulips of richest hue, and the haze that drew over head like a personal cloud of suffering all her own.

Of course, Old Sophie had a way of dramatizing, meanwhile simultaneously catastrophizing stuff, so you knew to listen to her words loosely, with a solemn nod that you also shared similarly in those feelings. To a lesser degree than her, you were already aware your forced bed-rest could be attributed to allergies.

Or, something else you considered, it could have been the number of sputtering children who yet not knew to duck their faces in a tissue or their arms; it could have been the last embrace you shared with your sickly aunt. It could have been so many things that you had to press the pads of your fingers into your temples to subdue the stab of a headache building beneath them.

“Michael and I are going to Market Square to get supplies and bone broth. That’ll whip you into shape in no time.” Sophie anchored her fists against the bulky layers of her skirt, nearly losing them from how deeply they sunk. “Don’t you dare think about moving until we get back, hear me?”

“What about customers?” you couldn’t say you were disappointed by her firm demand, though all the same it made you restless. Even in times where illness or injury got you down, rest eluded you like fine sand slithering through crevices in your fingers. “Howl went off and blew half our income on that- that, damn, what was it? Some kind of enchanted flute? The more customers we serve, the more we can stash away.”

Sophie’s nostrils widened while her shoulders sagged forward with her breath. Her eyes lost their hardness, ebbing into something far warmer, motherly, almost. As you shifted anxiously beneath the covers, she came back around and began tucking them under your body once again, sure to secure you tighter than before. In fact, you were so caught, so much in your cocoon that you only saw the gray ball of wadded hair pinned atop her head bounce as she rounded you.

“Just stay down you worrywart,” she sighed, heels tapping the floorboards in a collected gait. At your head, she was careful to fluff the feathers in your pillow. “Between us, I’ve been putting a bit aside here and there. Just enough so he can't go buy another one of those enchanted suits. I’d like to know the dealer he’s getting them from and have a word with them myself.”

Your lips curled up at the mention and, honestly, you believed she actually would. “Where is Howl, anyway? I thought he was around.”

“Good grief, I almost wish he wasn’t. He’s been banging around in his room for hours now.” Old Sophie threw her hand towards the adjacent wall, upper lip curling as she continued, “says a lot that you haven’t heard a lick of it.”

That was enough to get you to concede to her obstinacy, letting the weight of your head- suddenly a strain on your neck- fully rest atop of the pillow she had fixed. The more she talked about you needing to stay in bed, drink bone broth and saltines, the more you felt the lead in your limbs rooting you to the mattress and the world floating around you when you closed your eyes.

It was any guess to you when it was the moment Sophie slipped out of your room with that hobbled gait of hers. You had been vaguely aware of her giving your cushion a bit more lusciousness, and then warmth of her palm covering the space of your forehead, giving a fretful tongue click. Behind your heavy eyelids, your eyes floated after her tiny footfalls, but that at once made your bed feel like a boat crashing through cresting waves.

So, you finally resigned to your fate of her and Michael’s care, finally let the stone in your bones meld you into the bed like beige boulders sinking further into the earth and undergrowth with coming centuries.

The silence that surrounded you was enthralling, probably the only true amount of peace you had had in a long time, considering your days were often brimmed with mediating Sophie and Howl’s explosiveness, meanwhile, still cooking up meager spells and manning the business with Michael.

In your weariness and delirium, a thought crossed your mind in a drawl: what about Calcifer, did he need more wood? You anticipated his voice bursting out soon, imploring attention in any number of ways. What of the front door? You expected a knock to come soon, and then another, and another, and perhaps a dozen more. That was money well needed.

What of Sophie? Your thoughts continued. Would she need you to help with scrubbing the floors? Maybe she wanted to give you a knitting lesson later, or expand on her tutelage of weaving hats.

Oh, and Howl—

God, how could you forget Howl? The man felt like a job all on its own. 

Surely he intended to go out again and woo many of the loveliest in Market Chipping, or hell, maybe he’d move the castle somewhere else for the night to do that. You expected him to hunt you down, throw open your door, barge through the threshold with his hair aflutter and eagerness in his eyes—where did you and Miss Nose stash his suits? His guitar wasn’t where he left it, where was it? Neither of you meddled with the charm over his door, right?

As it turned out, you mumbled in your sleep, or at least in your discombobulated state. Your head rustled the feather pillow, lolling to one side and then the other as sweat prickled your forehead in cold beads. Behind your eyelids, Sophie’s nimble and darkly spotted hands worked on a suit, meanwhile Michael was ran ragged around the castle to try to fulfill orders, Calcifer bellowed for attention and eggs and bacon, and Howl’s hair whipped up in the breeze as he spun round and round with another lovely.

Your entire face twitched when a large hand smoothed across the top of your head, a damp weight of something laid spread across your forward, unpleasant and clammy unlike Sophie’s warm hand. “Hey. Don’t take the newt from the shelf, it’ll get on the floor.”

Howl gave a bemused smile that took a while to dissipate. You continued to babble incoherently here and there about things that didn't matter while the peaks of his knuckles simply rocked across your temple and cheek.

“I’ll keep that in mind. I pray that Sophie has made herself useful instead of sticking her nose in on us again.” He said with lightness in voice, peering across his shoulder towards the bolted doorway to be sure. “Good. She seems to think I only make you worse in these states. I would never.”

You were sure you were hearing his voice at this point, rousing you from the cluster in your head until your eyes fixed with his, wonderful and marble-like. They were softer than usual, glittering like the sea when the sun hung highest, making the water like a trove of dazzling treasure.

“Your eyes are amazing, Howell.” You whispered hoarsely, swallowing through the desert in your throat. “I don’t notice them enough.”

His smile took on something brighter, almost as though delighted you took notice of something that menial. “I would agree with you there! You can look as long as you’d like. Tell me more about it.”

“I think about us sometimes, Howell.” It was a strange feeling right now, the words you spoke were the first to float forward in your mind. You knew you were speaking garbled silliness, still you didn’t think better of it. “I remember college together, before we came to Ingary. I remember how you used to look before you… started doing the enchantment stuff. I feel like I’ve forgotten you.”

The lines in his lips were significantly deeper as they pulled down, his hand halted against your skin. It was either the thought that you felt such a disconnect from him, or the reminiscence of who he once was that brought the sullen look of his on. No longer was there a glitter of childish joy, but rather of anxiety, of concern.

“Nonsense. You’re talking nonsense just like Sophie and Calcifer.” He moved closer to you on the bed, rolling your arm from its spot as the mattress bent. Next, the pillow cradling your head flattened, his hands cuffed into the thick fabric as he leaned across you, your eyes only able to see him. “I… I’m still here. I have not left you, I wouldn’t entertain the thought. Didn’t I tell you that wherever I’d go from here on out, you would have to be right with me?”

You only wished he’d tell you such things in every other state of being, instead of during the peak of being bedridden. “I want to believe you, but in this world I am as ordinary as the hat makers and bakers. I’m replaceable. I wonder if that will happen one day.”

Noticeably distraught from the creases deepening around the corners of his mouth, and his eyes flitting wildly around your face as though in panic. He came down onto his elbows, caging you below him as his fear neared, his hot breath inches away.

“What makes you think I could ever replace you? Has someone put that bull into your head? Was it Calcifer—the pest? Was it a panderer we met the other day?” Now that he was so close to you, his voice had lowered and it rumbled. “Or, are you so sleep deprived, so loopy that you’re finally now telling me your heart?”

“Does it matter what I confess to you now?” you asked, pushing your head deeper into the feathers and farther from him. As you turned your face away, he shifted to gently coax your chin forward with the daintiest touch of his fingertips. “I would be alone in that venture. In a matter of five, six, ten years—I’ll have all the age and lines you hate. I’m sure I’ll shrink even more.”

“You do realize we have someone in our house who already looks like that.” He said this jokingly, of course, but even in your fever, your hand shot up to pinch his arm. “H–Hey, stop! Furthermore, you’re making up stuff, who would be to say you’d be alone with your heart?”

The explanation to that was obvious, considering the whole business with Calcifer and the Witch, but you didn’t want to think about it. In fact, at any opportunity to steer your mind away from that debacle, you found it.

Once again, you tried to look away from him—both sleep was beginning to weigh on your bones more than what you imagine Howl would if he were to collapse, and away from the furor gleaming in his eyes. And once again, he pulled you back towards him.

“Sick as you are, I’d like to prove it to you.” It was an unusual thing to hear from him considering all his caution with appearance and health. You wondered if he was desperate to alleviate your distrust. “Why are you looking at me like that? Close your eyes—yeah, I would rather not risk your germs, but some things can’t be helped.”

You weren’t sure if your eyes slid shut from gravity, or from some sort of internal desire for him to do this. Either way, his hand returned adjacent to the other near your hair, tugging slightly at the strands and his breath came so close you felt it tremble against your lips.

And then, all at once, his breath snagged in his throat as the door was thrown open, bouncing off the wall with such force it vibrated. In waddled Old Sophie, arms conveniently free of anything other than an old wood broom with long, spidery bristles that she held aloft across her shoulder, eyes blazing and the most malicious you had ever seen them.

“I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone with this dog! This cretin, vile imbecile! This complete, utterly hopeless dolt!” She screeched, the layers of her dress billowed behind her as she started into the room as fast as her creaky old limbs could. “Get out, get out, get out! Away with you, you absolute user! Away! Away! Away! Begone!”

Howl yelped in surprise as the tiny old lady swung the broom with enough ferocity for you to feel the air gush and whoosh around you.

“You demented old coot! Swinging brooms and the like around, are you completely classless?!” he propelled himself upright, expertly ducking her onslaught until he was well out the door into the hall. “I won't forget this!”

As luck would have it, their bickering continued on even once they were out of the room, even fifteen minutes later when Michael weaseled through the threshold with your bone broth and bolted the door behind him.

divider by @/anlian-aishang

reposted from my deleted blog officiallytheduchess/cardeneiv

#howl x you #hmc howl #howlscastle #howl's moving castle #howls moving castle #howl pendragon #howl x y/n #howl x reader #howl pendragon x y/n #howl pendragon x you #howl pendragon x reader #hmc imagines #hmc fic #howl hmc #hmc book #hmc #2k writes

[thesweetnessofsalt]

Process Blog #2

To the person who left this comment like, two years ago:

You were so on the nose, you didn’t even know. But I knew. I KNEW!!!

Process Blog #2 covers pages 6 through 9 of Chapter 3.

Man, this was the sequence from hell. I’ve been having some computer troubles, and in my attempts to fix the issue, I ended up losing a lot of my files for Chapter 3. It’s fine - I ended up recovering almost everything, and I’m using a cloud service going forward. But the issue still persists and my computer just shuts down at random. Some days it doesn’t happen at all, but on others, it’ll happen continuously.

(You can also file this under ‘reasons why Michelle can’t manage to keep a stream schedule’, btw…sorry.)

Nevertheless, I’ve been looking forward to making these pages for a while, and they are juicy. So let's get into it!!

Historical Inspiration & Stylism

Sha’s memory is kind of hazy - it’s why she, say, rounds to 2,000 years instead of providing an exact date; see also the ‘egg incident’ - and her recounting of her past is similarly lacking in detail. That being said, I do want to imply something about when and where this occurs, and have tried to do so through the visuals. 

The compositions and figures themselves are inspired mostly by red-figure pottery, while the eyes and decorative details are inspired by Minoan frescoes.

Panels are made up of Greek meanders - those decorative borders. I know it's not what the Greeks were going for, but it looks very comic-like to me and I'm here for it.

Aphrodite

Aphrodite’s domain was love, passion, and beauty, but she was also associated with fertility and marriage. I’ve peppered a few of her symbols throughout this sequence - sparrows, myrtle (those leafy branches) - but the main one are shells. 

Aphrodite was often depicted with scallop shells, alluding to her birth by the sea. Oh, hey - we’ve seen shells like this in TSOS before!

Well, have you caught it? Have you figured out that we’re drawing parallels between Sha and Aphrodite? What if we were both girls…and we were both born from the ocean…

The (Ex-) Husband

Divorce was a viable option for couples in Ancient Greece, so his threat isn’t completely out of left field - neither is the implication that he’d hold Sha responsible for their troubles. Infertility was seen as a women’s issue, and was perfectly reasonable grounds for divorce.

Yes, this guy comes off like a complete asshole to us, but to Sha, this would have been normalized (though still awful).

Not much else to say about the dude. He was a fisherman,  though that detail ended up really only coming through here:

Shop Talk

For all the troubles I had with research, stylizing, and tone, the actual making of these pages was pretty quick (thank god…I had to make up that time somewhere!). I really tried not to fuss too much on the execution of these, given that I was working on them in such sporadic sections and lost my original files partway through.

I didn’t really do a sketch pass, instead jumping right into the lineart so it’d look stiffer and less refined than the usual style. I gave the lines a little oomph by adding a duplicating lineart underneath, blurring the heck out of it, and changing it to red. This just gave them some warmth and helped distinguish them better from the screentones.

I chose this screentone for its resemblance to tiny mosaic tiles, with some slight hue shifts for variety and a gaussian blur to soften up those harsh anti aliased dots.

Closing Arguments

Well, now you know the terrible truth: TSOS is not very historically accurate or specific.

Instead of sharing her story through facts and events, I wanted it to be shared in Sha's own words, supported by visuals that could be interpreted freely.

Sha doesn't remember where she lived, or when she died. Even if she did, those things would be counted and named differently today, and those facts wouldn't add anything to her character or the story. What Sha does remember is the loneliness and desperation that got her to where she is now.

It's not the most forthcoming, I know, but hey - neither is Sha!

This flashback continues for another two pages, but they start to break from this ancient style as we fade back to present day, so that's all for now!

As always, if you have any questions about the making of TSOS, leave them in the comments and I’ll answer them in the next!

Process Blog #2 was originally published September 21, 2023 on Ko-fi. Supporters get early access to TSOS pages and process blogs!

#the sweetness of salt #webcomics #process blog

[adonis-koo]

ghostin him

Summary: Life is nothing more than dull colors for you, your world shattered and laying in the shards of what once was rather than focusing on what is. That is until you meet Kim Namjoon, who is immediately taken by you without realizing you’re a girl with a whole lot of baggage, through tears and many sleepless nights you’re faced with a choice of hanging on with bleeding hands, or accepting what is, and letting go.

‘What did you do?’

‘I ruined everything. I kissed her and she looked at me like I was a ghost.’

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader, Taehyung/reader

Word Count: 26k

Genre: hurt and comfort, angst with a happy ending, whew this one is gonna hurt y’all, bakery!AU, one sided pining, unrequited feelings, some more angst, Jungkook just really loves his Noona, Namjoon is a mess, but so is MC,

Warning: this fic deals with major character death, mourning and suicidal thoughts, please read with caution!

Note: whew, I’m not gonna lie guys this is a pretty heavy fic! I poured a lot of sad feelings into this as just a way to vent out my sadness! I’d also like to mention I am fine lmao! I often get bouts of sadness and all of it went into this so I hope you enjoy! Last but not least a big big big thank you to @tiny-onecx​​ for beta reading this when it was a giant mess and helping me turn it into the bittersweet story it is today! <3

“Baby, come on, wake up,” His deep, dulcet voice quietly called out, a whine escaping you as you flopped onto your stomach, your face buried. Large hands grabbing your waist as his fingertips dragged against the open skin, “C’mon, you missed your alarm clock.” You felt his nose rub against your neck, hair tickling your skin and his body was so warm. 

Rolling over you groaned as you glanced at the man who laid beside you, Taehyung’s smile lit up like the sun as he let his fingers gently brush over the skin of your face, “Morning.” 

Adoration filled your whole chest, butterflies swarming in your stomach with giddy happiness you couldn’t ever adequately describe as a shy smile tugged on your lips, “Morning.” His fingers dragging down to your lips, thumbing the soft subtle lower lip. His forehead pressing against yours as he smiled once more, “Come on baby, let’s get up.” 

“Get up.” 

“Y/n, you’re gonna be late for work, what the hell!?” 

Your eyes cracked open as you groaned, your roommate Jimin was already dressed and had probably already eaten breakfast as he sighed, frowning at your somewhat confused figure as your head snapped to the other side of the bed. It was like a sucker punch in the gut, seeing the other side of the bed empty. Tears already threatened to spill, the butterflies in your stomach were gone, his deep voice along with it as you realized Taehyung, the man you had woken up with was just a cruel dream, “I’ll be up in a minute.” You muttered, covering your face with your pillow as you choked back a crack in your voice. 

You could feel Jimin’s presence stay in the room at the sound of your muffled sob, refusing to show your face from your pillow as you curled up away from him. You didn’t want to talk about it, he knew it, but it still hurt to watch you. Even after a year it was like time had stopped, would it ever heal? Your door quietly shut after a minute as you pressed your face into your pillow to quiet your sobs, hugging it close and praying maybe if you tried hard enough you’d fall back asleep where you’d be with Taehyung again. 

It didn’t matter how much sleep you got, your body was permanently lethargic and tired, getting out of bed every day was always a difficult task. Tears stained your face as you grabbed your phone, sniffling as you muttered, “Shit.” You dropped your phone into your lap as you pressed your hands to your face. You were late. Again. Your boss had been understanding the first six months, but now? Not so much. 

You got up, hurriedly wiping your face as you sniffled once more, fumbling with your clothes as you changed. Tying up your hair as you grabbed your phone before hurrying out the door, Jimin long gone for work so at the very least he wasn’t going to nag you for being late. It didn’t matter what you did, you tried everything, a new hobby, crafts, drawing, baking, nothing worked. Nothing filled the void in you. You could find Taehyung in everything you did, always. 

Straightening yourself out you opened the door to the cafe you worked in. The only thing that made you feel better was working, filling your life with nothing but endless busy work to keep your thoughts off of him. It worked until you got off shift and rinse repeat. That was all your life had become now. 

It used to be filled with vivid hues and rose colored glasses with Taehyung, he found beauty in everything and he showered you in all of it, he taught you optimism and love in a way you never thought you could feel it. You had gotten so used to his presence you didn’t even realize how much you radiate happiness when he was with you. Now your life is a bleak endless void; work, cry, sleep. 

It’s all the energy you had to do anymore, what was the point in doing anything else? You’d never get to experience life in the beautiful eyes of Taehyung again. You sucked a sharp breath of air in as a voice called out, “Hey! There you are Noona.” Like a blessing from above your coworker called out with a big bunny-like smile. 

“Thank’s Jungkook.” He hadn’t even said anything but you couldn’t help but give a weak smile in compensation for him not ratting you out to your boss who luckily wasn’t in today. He knew what happened, but he rarely ever brings it up, perhaps sensing you were still grieving and would prefer to keep your mind off it. 

But you knew you couldn’t fool anyone, your smile always seemed sadder these days, Jungkook more than anyone could sense it. Rounding the counter you set your bag down as he asked softly, “Are you good?” That was all he ever asked, an open invitation that if you ever wanted to talk about it he’d be more than happy to listen. Many people in your life were like this, bless all of them. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You mumbled, refusing to look at him as you dug through your things, pretending as if you were looking for something when you genuinely couldn’t look at him, few words could cause you to burst into a faucet of tears and you refused to cry at work. 

If you turned around to look up at Jungkook’s stupid, soft, doe like eyes that were always so understanding you’d surely start crying. You didn’t have to look at your coworker to know he was frowning but said no more, just like always. 

You didn’t mean to push all of your friends away, but you simply needed time alone, by yourself to get through this. If ever. Some days you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever get over it, if you’d ever love someone the way you loved Taehyung again. Pulling the apron on you pushed all of your sad thoughts to the back of your head and got to work. 

Work was your happy place, as happy as it could be at least. You could pretend, just for a little while. That everything was okay, “Hey, where did the flour go?” Yoongi came out of the back complaining as he glared at Jungkook, “You closed last night.” His eyes narrowed into daggers at the younger boy who impishly smiled in response, 

“Hyung it’s where it always is, didn’t you check the top shelf? It should be there.” Jungkook insisted as he followed Yoongi to the back who was grumbling, said-baker not liking his ingredients misplaced. You felt a small smile tug on your lips as you watched them bicker as the door to the back shut. 

Turning away you walked up to the register where a customer had been scanning over the menu before ordering. Fixing coffee, getting a croissant, it was quaint work but something about it made you feel happy. Reminded you of simpler times. 

The bell against the door rang as you popped up from your crouched position, setting the plate and coffee on the counter as you called out the customer's name before going back up to the register, carefully watching the man whose eyes met with yours suddenly smack right into a table. 

You winced a little as he grunted in pain, rubbing his thigh that hit the hard edge of the table, his face looking oddly red as he rubbed his neck, unable to hold your stare for a even a short period of time as he awkwardly coughed, frantically looking over the menu, “Uh, you can take your time sir.” You raised an eyebrow as you glanced away, why was he making this feel so awkward? 

“O-okay, thank you.” He offered a sincere yet somewhat odd smile, your eyes immediately flickering to the pretty dimples that poked into his cheeks before he quickly looked back up at the menu as you turned around to wipe down the counters that had gotten crumbs all over it. Presumably from Jungkook eating yesterday's leftover pastries that didn’t sell. 

Casually you glanced at the stranger, sure you had a few new people every day but generally the cafe only had regulars come in or people that stopped in a few times a week. It was a trendy little place and was close to the city’s college campus making it a hot spot for friends to study at. 

“You don’t look like you’ve been here before.” You commented causing him to jump, his eyes flicking to your figure before immediately back to the menu. 

“I uh- Probably because I haven’t,” He gave an awkward smile as he closed his eyes, without even fully realizing it you felt your lips tug into a tiny smile as he began to relax a little at your observation, “My friend constantly talks about how amazing the pastries here are so I figured I’d come by and try them, just the smell is making my mouth water.” 

Letting your arms rest against the counter you hummed, “You should try the coco cream cupcakes if you like chocolate oh! Or the sugar glazed puff pastries if you want something light and low on the sweetness.” Sugar glazed pastries were your favorite, Yoongi would always let you take leftovers home if they didn’t all sell that day. You always loved sharing them with-

“Alright! I’ll have two of the sugar glazed pastries then! Oh, can I get an americano to go with it?” He asked, seemingly confident in your choice of sweets or maybe just a little overwhelmed at how much was crammed onto the small menu. 

To be fair Yoongi was always whipping out new recipes and they always tasted delicious, he eventually had to keep some limited edition due to the limited space on the menu and sometimes he’d put up seasonal sweets as well. Your favorite was never pumpkin spice but nutmeg and cider cinnamon rolls, it tasted like october. October would be coming around again soon, it was hard to believe it would be a year soon…

“Of course.” You coughed out, hands fumbling somewhat as you tried to keep your mind from sinking into a place where it would not return if you let it, “Name?” 

“U-uh what?” He asked, looking somewhat sheepish and caught off guard as you glanced up from the register, tilting your head at the sight of his flushed face and eyes that kept jumping between you and the menu over ahead as if to appear like he wasn’t staring at you.

“For the order…” You replied somewhat hesitantly, a frown on your face as he suddenly laughed, looking mildly relieved as he rubbed the back of his neck. Still refusing to meet your gaze as if he seemed a little embarrassed.

“O-oh right. Namjoon.” He offered a weak smile as you wrote it down on his cup. Ringing him up you gave him his receipt before working on his americano. Jungkook just then opened the door to the back, the front of his black shirt completely covered in flour and his face looked as if he just sucked on a lemon. 

“...Do I wanna ask?” You frowned though you felt your lips threatening to tug into a smile at his exasperated expression, turning to face the register as he mumbled something about accidentally putting the flour in the pantry. Setting the sugar glazed pastry neatly on a plate before placing the plate and drink on the counter calling Namjoon’s name who appeared to be typing very passionately on his phone before glancing up. 

“Thank you- ah…” He paused for a moment, his eyes dropping to your shirt before he smiled brightly at you, “Y/n.” Your name tag was a little crooked today, making it stick out from your clothes in an annoying way but you couldn’t be bothered to adjust it. 

You gave a small nod as you turned around, glancing at Jungkook who seemed to watch both you and the man- Namjoon like a hawk as you asked, “What?” 

“Nothing.” He shrugged but it definitely did not look like nothing, before you could interrogate the younger boy he was already taking a customer's order. Sighing, you shook your head before you began working on the next order. 

The day went by quickly as always, the only thing that stuck out was when Namjoon left, waving at you before accidentally smacking against a chair that had been left unpushed by a table, causing him to stumble. You weren’t sure why but something just seemed….

“He likes you.” 

Your head whipped back over to Jungkook who was finished the last of cleaning before taking off as if his shift ended an hour earlier than yours. You couldn’t help but scoff as you rolled your eyes. 

“I’m being serious Noona!” Jungkook frowned, waving his hand to the door where Namjoon had long since left, “He kept smiling like an idiot while glancing over at you working.” You crossed your arms as you tilted your head.

“You were watching him eat?” You raised a brow, Jungkook’s face flushing somewhat as he glanced away, mumbling a no despite knowing for a fact he definitely was, “He’s just a customer Jungkook.” You dismissed him making a cute pout tug on his lips. You...you couldn’t even think about someone liking you. 

It wasn’t possible. Not right now at least. Jungkook sighed, his lips still tugged into a pout and those dumb doe eyes of his always getting the better of you as you scowled looking away, he was so stubborn when he wanted to be, “You might not be ready to move on Noona but that doesn’t mean other people can see that.” 

Your jaw clenched and your eyes glared against the counter, refusing to look at him as he sighed, “Bye Noona, see you friday.” You mumbled a goodbye as you sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your forehead. Just keep breathing. 

“Awh don’t cry baby,” Your cheeks squished and lips peppered against your face as you sniffled, trying your best not to cry at the sad scene in the movie but failing as a small whimper escaped your lips, “You’re so cute.” 

You shoved him causing laughter to erupt from his lips as you scowled while sniffling, “Tae shut up!” He gave you a playful nip on the neck as he hauled you into his lap, pressing little kisses against your head as he wrapped his arms around you. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll always be here to wipe those tears away.” He thumbed a tear against your cheek before his hands suddenly grabbed at your waist, a squeal leaving your lips as he ruthlessly tickled you, giggles escaping you as he pushed you down against the bed, “There’s that pretty smile.” He cooed, that playful boxy grin of his on his face as you squirmed beneath him, tears pricking in your eyes at how hard you were laughing. 

Now your eyes were blurring out of sadness, funny how you took those moments for granted when you still had him. Your fingers traced the image of his face on your phone, it was a dumb selfie you had took one morning together when you were half asleep. 

What you’d give to be with him again, have him beside you in bed telling you to get off your phone while whining to hold you. You could almost picture him beside you, his hair in a multitude of colors but your favorite was always that stupid blueberry dye he had insisted was indigo. 

His hands would be cupping your face, your hand gently grabbing your cheek as you closed your eyes. He’d always thumb your bottom lip before letting his pads delicately trace up your cheekbone. Opening your eyes the bed was still empty, the hand on your face was not his, but your own. 

Tears began to pool in your eyes as you rolled onto your back, closing your eyes as you felt a wet tear roll down. Sniffling as you sat up, you couldn’t be here alone tonight. Not surrounded by everything, wearing his old hoodie he’d always give you when you were cold, surrounded by memories of what could have been. What was supposed to be. 

Fumbling you stood up, ignoring all the pictures framed of your smiling figure hugging the love of your life. Covering your mouth to keep yourself from sobbing, Jimin would have to be up early tomorrow and you didn’t want him to feel obligated to deal with you. Putting on your shoes you sniffled as you wiped your cheeks. 

How late was it? Two in the morning? Maybe even three, you could never truly sleep anymore, not when you weren’t in his arms, not when every moment you breathed the ache filled you. Your feet took you to the only place opened this late; the convenient store. During nights when you didn’t have to work the next day Taehyung loved taking you here when you had a stressful day. 

Always rambling about how nothing could cheer you up like a nice hot bowl of ramen. You couldn’t help but smile at the irony as the tears dripped down your cheeks. Wiping them as you entered the store. The cashier looked bored, headphones in and reading a magazine not even acknowledging your presence as you walked to where the ramen was held. 

What you didn’t expect to do was ram into what felt like a brick, “Ah!” You stumbled as the man quickly grabbed you by the arms to keep you steady, taking a moment to steady yourself you glanced up only to feel your lips part, “Namjoon?” 

“Y/n?” Namjoon hurriedly let you go, looking at you in somewhat disbelief as you flusteredly rubbed your eyes, realizing they were still wet with tears, “Are...are you okay?” He asked somewhat hesitantly as you turned away from him, tears flooding your eyes as your shoulders bobbed. 

“Y-yeah.” You sniffled, trying to keep your breathing under control, “I’m okay.” You forced it out as you covered your mouth. Rubbing your eyes once more as you hesitantly took a peep at him, his expression said it all. Truthfully, anyone who had seen you like this always gave you that same expression. Pity. His brows pressed together and lips parted but frowning slightly, “I’m fine!” You forced a smile as another tear trickled down your face, turning away from him again you let out a soft sob as you closed your eyes. 

“...Maybe we should get some ramen and sit down?” Namjoon offered while rubbing his neck, “I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?”

....

Glancing down at your cup of steaming warm ramen you sniffled, refusing to look up at the somewhat skittish man who seemed genuinely worried for you. 

‘Come on baby, eat up, it’ll make you feel better’

Tears already blurred your eyes again as you closed them, letting out a soft sob, lips trembling as you chopsticks shook, slurping on your noodles as you suppressed your cries. The warm broth making you realize how hungry you were as you swallowed. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon offered, his expression sad, unsure of how to help you or even if he could, but it seemed he wasn’t leaving anytime soon as he began eating his own noodles. 

You stayed silent as tears dripped down your face, clenching your cup with a death grasp as you forced the noodles into your mouth, closing your eyes as you savored them. Unable to even speak as you shook your head. You couldn’t talk about it...it was too soon. Even coming up on a year and it was still too soon. 

You felt pathetic living like this, you were crying in front of a stranger while eating cup noodles at a gas station at three in the morning. Where would you be if Taehyung was still here? At home, asleep in his arms. Closing your eyes you let the tears slide down your face as you surrendered to the hurt you had been drowning in the moment your life was turned upside down.

For the first time, you were grateful to have company, even if you didn’t speak a word to Namjoon he made one sided conversation, rambling about how he had stayed up too late studying for an exam and how he was hungry but didn’t have anything at his dorm. 

“I’ve been trying to keep my Bonsai tree alive but...gardening is kind of hard to learn,” Namjoon continued rambling on, confessing as he looked a little embarrassed, awkwardly leaning his seat as he mustered a weak smile while looking down at his cup. 

His voice was...soothing to listen to admittedly. Namjoon was oddly poetic in the most unexpected way, he told you he loved philosophy and going to the art museum in his free time. He seemed to be able to find anything to talk about even if you weren’t receptive, but oddly enough he didn’t seem bothered by it. 

You were curled up, your knees against your chest and hood burying your face as you listened to him intently, your eyes undoubtedly bloodshot but you had stopped crying a good ten minutes ago, sniffling as he sighed, “But from what I’ve read basically if it doesn’t vibe with the dirt it just dies.” 

The snort that escape you made his eyes shoot up to look at you, a giggle breaking out on your lips as you stared at your noodles which had become lukewarm, sniffling a little as a tiny smile tugged on your lips, shaking your head as you mumbled, “That’s not exactly how gardening works. You wanna make sure the soil is good quality and damp, dry soil kills plants fast when they transfer pots, you also need to make sure the roots aren’t overgrown when you transfer it to a bigger pot.” 

“Oh? I didn’t take you for a plant expert.” Namjoon quipped playfully, that pretty dimpled smile on his lips, obviously happy to get a not just a smile but also a laugh from you. 

You glanced at him for a moment, your lips quirking a little as you raised a brow, shaking your head as you smiled back at your cup again, “I consider myself a bit of dirt viber.” You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you as Namjoon joined in. After a moment you paused as you exhaled softly, your smile eventually melting off your face as you meekly glanced at your cup. 

“I should get home...work in the morning.” You mumbled as you glanced at your phone, it was already 3:30 in the morning and you needed to be up by seven...the latest if you didn’t want to be late again. 

Namjoon nodded understandingly, giving you one last smile when you left. Once again alone, yet for the first time in what felt like a long time, your mind lingered on those pretty dimples. 

“You look tired Noona.” You glared at Jungkook who was sucking on a lollipop, giving you a bratty smile as he tried to ruffle your hair only to earn a slap in return, a pout forming on his lip, “Did you think about what I asked?” 

Bless the little brats heart, Jungkook was genuinely trying to get you out there again but you had become a shell. You didn’t want to go to parties, you didn’t want to go to the park, you didn’t even want to get groceries anymore. You just wanted to lay in bed for a very long time. 

“I’m not interested in going out Jungkook.” You glanced at him tiredly, truthfully you had a good excuse, you were running on three hours of sleep and caffeine could only carry you so far for eight hours, rubbing your eyes you sighed as he whined with a groan. 

“You always say that!” Jungkook pouted, much to your surprise Yoongi had shown himself out from his cave as he pushed the door open, a fresh platter of sugar glazed pastries on rack as Jungkook huffed, “Just this once, please?” 

“Jungkook,” Yoongi warned as he glanced at the younger boy, taking a glance at you as he frowned, setting down the platter he picked up a pastry as he handed it to you. 

Glancing down at the fresh baked soft flaky treat you sighed, “Is this what’s my life come too?” Both boys glanced at you as you stared at the pastry, “Pity pastries and being dragged to parties?” 

You shoved the sweet treat into your mouth as you chomped down on the soft doughy material, the sweet crisp sugar glaze was crunchy against the soft warm dough of the pastry. “Well hey, if you don’t appreciate my pastries...” Yoongi tried to snatch the half eaten treat from you but you hurriedly shoved it into your mouth as you glared him down. 

The door suddenly jingled, catching all of your attention only to see the bright smile of only the most genuine and sweet person you had ever met, much to your surprise a more bashful person was being dragged behind him, “Hey Y/n! Kook, Yoongi!” Hoseok waved happily as he bounced up to the counter, Namjoon rubbing his neck as he gave you a somewhat sheepish smile before hurriedly looking at the menu. 

“Lemme get a caramel macchiato with a carrot cake bomb and...oh! Are those fresh sugar glazed pastries…!” Hoseok’s eyes practically sparkled as Yoongi cleared his throat, ears looking somewhat pink. 

“Fresh out of the oven…” He mumbled causing Jungkook to snort- as if he was any better around guys or girls for that matter. You found it all amusing as you already began working on the macchiato. 

“And Namjoon?” You turned to glance at him as he perked at the sound of his name, he glanced up at the menu as he hummed. 

“Could I try the mystic mountain tea? It sounds really good…Oh, with a chocolate stuffed croissant.” Namjoon answered as Jungkook rang them up, Hoseok’s attention was solely on Yoongi and you could tell he was excited by the way his voice became all fluttery. Yoongi rarely ever left the back room where all the baking was done. 

“It is,” Your back was turned from Namjoon as you spoke, “It’s made with mint, pine needles and chamomile but we use cane sugar with it to give it a nice sweet flavor. It’s one of my favorites.” You smiled as you turned to face him, setting down the macchiato as you grabbed another cup. Namjoon’s smile seemed automatic, his somewhat slouched figure before straightening and it seemed as if he didn’t even realize it. 

“Oh so you like gardening and tea?” He playfully quipped, rolling your eyes you turned to face the brewer again as you felt a smile tug on your lips, “You seem like a woman of many weird talents.” 

Pouring the hot water into the cup you set it down as you glanced over your shoulder, “Says the one that’s struggling to keep his Bonsai tree alive.” 

“Hey!” Namjoon’s brows pressed together and his dimples popped out making you laugh, “It’s not my fault it’s petty and sensitive to literally everything.” You waved a dismissive hand as you walked to the door to the back, intending to get the jar of tea leaves that somehow made their way back there, “Keep telling yourself that.”

Your figure disappeared as Jungkook tilted his head, a mischievous smile on his lips as he hummed, glancing between the door and Namjoon’s lopsided smile as he commented, “You know, that’s the first I think I’ve seen her smile in the past two months.” 

Namjoon glanced at him as he frowned, “What...do you mean?” He asked carefully, his thoughts going back to last night, your eyes bloodshot and tears staining your cheeks, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. But a part of him was worried at the way you seemed so melancholy. He could see it in your eyes with every interaction he had. They always seemed so sad. Namjoon was happy, grateful even though he had gotten a few glimpses at what your smile looked like happy, bright, beautiful even… 

Jungkook shrugged, not answering as you reappeared, opening the door with tea leave jar in hand as you scooped the leaves up into a metal steeper, “Alright this should be done in a few minutes.” Jungkook had meanwhile set out their pastries but it seemed like Hoseok had Yoongi trapped, his ears were pink and he looked ready to crawl back into his little hole once more. 

“So you’re coming tonight, right Yoongi?” Hoseok flashed a bright charming smile at the brooding male who shifted away from him, “It’ll be a lot of fun, Jungkook is going.” To which Jungkook enthusiastically nodded. 

“...I need to go check on my pastry puffs.” Yoongi mumbled, his cheeks bright pink as he hurried back into the kitchen as you snorted, an amused smile tugging on your lips as the doors rocked back and forth. 

Hoseok’s lips tugging into a pout as he sighed, “Do you think he hates me?” He shoved the pastry into his mouth as he glanced at his plate depressively. 

“Uh no, he’s just a panicked gay,” Jungkook clacked his tongue, “I wouldn’t take it personal. If I can’t get miss broody here to go I’ll make sure he does.” Jungkook wrapped an arm around you as you glared at him, making a cheeky smile tug on his lips. 

“You won’t go Y/n?” Hoseok shot you puppy eyes as you sighed. Hoseok was a regular at the cafe and chummy with just about everyone, if he was a sim character you just knew for a fact he’d be a friend to the world trait to a T. 

He had been coming here for the past month straight which made you wonder if Hoseok was the one who recommended Namjoon come here. 

You shook your head, offering a weak, tired smile as you shrugged, “Not my cup of tea. Speaking of.” You whirled around, pulling the steeper out of the cup before dropping in three sugar cubes before popping on the lid, “Here you go.” You handed it over to Namjoon who looked excited to try, something subtle yet innocent in his expression as he poked his straw through and gave it a sip. 

“You were right! No wonder it’s your favorite, it’s delicious.” Namjoon complimented, something about his sincere tone of voice, or maybe it was those stupid dimples of his. Whatever it was your lips tugged into a smile and yet, you felt...bashful? Lowering your gaze a little as you rubbed the back of your neck. 

“You should try the lavender dream next time if you really like tea, it’s another good one.” You offered meekly, suddenly feeling a little timid under his gaze as you fumbled with your apron. A sudden well of feelings dowsing you. Insecurity, guilt, shame. Why did you feel so bashful in front of Namjoon...how could you when...When Taehyung…

It felt like a stab in your heart as you inhaled sharply, “I-I should go check stock real quick for pastries.” You mumbled, leaving all three boys dumbfound. Entering the back you grabbed your head as you felt your hands tremble. 

Guilt

Guilt

Guilt 

Guilt 

How could you betray Taehyung like this?

You shouldn’t feel this way.

You don’t deserve to.

Taehyung would’ve never done this to you.

How could you do this to him?

Your heart was beating frantically as your hands trembled as tears began to trickle down your face, “Hey, hey, hey.” Yoongi’s voice felt far away as your breathing became quick, thoughts racing and your hands shaking. 

Unworthy

Unworthy

Unworthy

How dare you ever think about replacing Taehyung. 

“Yoongi said you had a panic attack.”

You felt like a child being scolded, wrapped in three different blankets and four pillows surrounding you while you sat on the couch in front of Jimin who frowned in disappointment. Of course he was disappointed. 

“It wasn’t that bad…” You mumbled, glancing down as you tugged the blanket around you further making Jimin sigh, sitting down next to you as he pulled you close.

“Why do you always lie?” He asked quietly as you curled against him, letting your head rest against his shoulder, the kdrama you both had been watching long forgotten. When you woke up you were home, comfortable and warm. And for a half a second, you thought maybe it was Taehyung who you were laying against. Much to your heartache it was Jimin when you opened your eyes.

You had been expecting this conversation for the past hour, and lo and behold, here you were, “It’s easier.” You mumbled, eyes beginning to blur as you scoffed a bitter smile, “I’m so pathetic, I can’t even face my own feelings. It’s just easier to keep it to myself.” 

Jimin’s grip tightened around you and even though you couldn't see him you knew he was frowning, “But that isn’t healthy Y/n, you know it just as well as I do. I worry about you, everyone does. You aren’t a burden to anyone. It hurts watching you go through this alone when we all want is to help.” 

And here it was the tears dripping down your cheeks as you shook your head, a weak sob escaping your lips as you mumbled, “If I talk about it, that means I have to accept he’s gone.” You choked out, “And I can’t do that Jimin. I can’t.” You sobbed as you glanced up at him, tears streaming down your face as you pleaded, “I can’t.” Almost a whole year and you were still in denial just as much as you were when you first got the phone call. 

You were still just as devastated as you sobbed into his shoulder, his arms wrapped tight around you as he stroked your hair. It seemed like everyone had moved on by now. Taehyung was just a name in the past. A ghost you couldn’t let go of. Jimin was the bridge between you both, he was the reason you had met Taehyung at all, this man was like a brother to him. But even the pain for him had lessened with time. 

“I miss him too Y/n. I do. But you’re going to have to let him go,” You rapidly shook your head, your breath becoming uneven as sobs escaped you, tears staining his shirt as he murmured gently, “Taehyung wouldn’t want you to be like this.” Tears couldn’t stop pouring from your eyes, you knew he was right. But you couldn’t let him go, not yet. Just a little longer. Just a little longer. 

Taehyung was a ghost and you were desperately clinging to every remnant you had left of him. This man was the love of your life, your soulmate, you needed him. You needed him. How were you supposed to move on with your life when you had to live with the knowledge of what could’ve been. Your body violently trembled as you drown yourself in tears next to Jimin who was always so strong. 

The only time you ever saw him lose it was when you bursted into the hallway in the hospital, his eyes were bloodshot and all it took was one exchanged look before a dam was released in his eyes. Maybe he had numbed himself to the pain, it was difficult to tell. Jimin let his nose bury into your hair as he inhaled softly, tenderly stroking your hair in the same way Taehyung always would in these moments. 

‘Baby, hey…Shhh…Come on don’t cry. What’s going on?” You shook your head rapidly as you tugged away from Taehyung’s grip, his hands keeping you in place and his face twisted into worry before he cupped your cheeks, “Sweetheart.” He pressed his forehead against yours. 

“i-I-It’s stupid…” You whimpered as you closed your eyes, shaking your head as he pressed a kiss against your nose encouragingly, sucking in a harsh breath you sobbed out, “I-I overheard your conversation with Hyuna.” 

Taehyung immediately frowned as he sighed softly, his thumbs soothingly rubbing your cheeks as he mumbled, “Baby don’t listen to her. She’s just a jealous old ex.” 

“She’s right.” You laughed bitterly as you refused to look at him, “I don’t deserve to be with somebody like you-”

“Hey.” Taehyung’s voice was stern, his hands making you look at him as he pressed his forehead back against yours as he mumbled, “Don’t you ever say that about yourself, okay? I love you Y/n, you’re my girl okay? I would never take anyone else over you.” You closed your eyes as your lips trembled, his lips soothingly pressing against yours as his thumbs stroked your cheekbones. 

It was a gentle kiss, your favorite as you complied, chasing his lips as he tried to pull back, making him chuckle against your mouth as he pressed multiple little kisses on your lips before breaking away making you whine with a sniffle, “Come on baby, let’s go get you some noodles, I’m sure it’ll make you feel better.” He gave you a warm smile as he brushed your tears away. 

Smiling you giggled a little as you wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him tight as you mumbled, “What would I ever do without you?”

“Crash and burn probably.” Taehyung joked with that adorable boxy smile of his as you smacked his arm, leaning on your tiptoes as you puckered your lips. Tutting he leaned down pressing one more chaste kiss on your lips.

Crash and burn, you wanted to laugh, he wasn’t wrong. He never was. 

Jimin had eventually gotten you to calm down, a cup of hot chocolate in your hands and your legs over his lap, still curled close, but enough away to keep your grip on your warm drink, “How has work been, hm?” Jimin asked, brushing a few strands of hair out of your face as you sighed. 

Shrugging a little you sipped the sweet liquid as you mumbled, “Same as always. Met one of Hoseok’s friends recently, he seems...interesting.” You rubbed your forehead, trying not to think about what happened earlier that day. 

“Oh? Well it’s good you’re making new friends. Maybe he’ll be good for you.” Jimin smiled, patting your head as you tried to swat it, “Friends always come into your life when you need them the most.” 

You didn’t comment on that, choosing to drink your hot chocolate as you glanced at the TV. Maybe he was right, maybe he was wrong. You didn’t know, but you needed to be careful around Namjoon. If anything you knew that as sure as day.

You kept mainly in your thoughts the rest of the evening but Jimin kept you company the whole time, stroking your hair calmly while watching kdramas together. For the first time, you fell asleep easier tonight then you had in the last eight months.

——

You sharply inhaled as you clenched your fists, you were going to do this…! You could do this. You glanced up at the art museum in determination before stepping up the stone stairs towards the entrance doors. It was crowded today and usually you liked shying away from large crowds. But he never cared, always tugging you along with encouragement and laughter, somehow, he always made it so much fun.

Today a Degas exhibit was in town, the one Taehyung had been so excited about seeing, you still vividly remembered his bouncing figure as he shoved the flyer in your face. Your hands trembled as you opened the door. You wanted to see it today, for him. Clutching the Polaroid camera in hand tightly as your fingers traced against its smooth surface. He loved using this damn thing every chance he got.

He’d take at least a dozen photos of all the art pieces, even going as far as to shove the camera in your hands to pose in that dumb artsy way he always did. You felt the distinct smile tug on your lips imaging that brown burette on his head and those dark raven locks. Boxy smile reflecting back at you as he grabbed your hand tugging you along while spouting off random knowledge about whatever you were looking at. 

You paused for a second, looking beside you as you felt a well in your throat at the sight of the crowd instead of your someone beside you. Closing your eyes you swallowed thickly as you forced yourself to breathe, trying to compose yourself.

With determination you walked up to the counter, purchasing a ticket to the exhibit before making your way down the massive lobby, artwork displayed on either sides of the walls and your shoes echoing against the smooth glossy floor. The exhibit was packed as expected but you stopped at each painting, letting your eyes draw over the dreamy muted yet colorful painting. 

The Dancer On Pointe was the one Taehyung was looking forward to the most. Ignoring the ‘No Pictures’ sign you lifted up the polaroid camera, clicking it as the photo began to develop. Giving the photo a wave you smiled as you glanced at it. This was perfect. 

Putting the camera and photo into your bag you made your way through the exhibit.

You looked at every painting intensively, hoping maybe the lense of your old lover would bless your vision and you’d be able to see it in the way he once showed you every single time. But to no avail, paintings were just paint, colors were just pigment. The magic was no longer there. Sighing you turned away from the paintings displayed beautifully, intending to leave before you smacked into someone, “Ah!” 

“Oh I’m sorry!” The voice which had become all too familiar grabbed ahold of you to steady you as you glanced up to meet the eyes of Kim Namjoon, round specs  between you and his gaze as he pushed them up against his nose, lips parting before twisting into a brilliant smile, “Y/n! Sorry I didn’t see you there!” 

“O-oh...Hey.” You stepped away from him awkwardly, your gaze lowering as you tugged on a strand of hair, your heart beating faster but you could hardly tell if it was from anxiety or something else. You had been…you didn’t want to say you had been avoiding Namjoon but, he made you feel weird. In a way you weren’t sure you liked and you couldn’t even fully describe it. 

“I didn’t know you liked going to the art museum! It’s nice seeing you here, I’ve missed you at work-” Namjoon suddenly coughed, immediately glancing away as he fumbled, “Not-uh- not miss, miss you but...you know…” He looked awkward and his eyes widened as he refused to look at you as if you’d turn him to stone if he did. 

You snorted, unable to keep the smile off your face as you replied lowly, “No I get it, just bad timing,” Or you purposely scrambled into the back leaving Jungkook on his own everytime you caught sight of Namjoon opening the cafe door, “But uh, I’m...not actually a fan of going here.” You shrugged as you glanced down at your feet. 

“Oh?” He tilted his head in curiosity, “Then...can I ask why you’re here? Or did you just wanna bump into me?” There was something...light -playful- in Namjoon’s voice as he flashed those dimples at you. 

You kept your expression reserved this time making his smile dim a little as you glanced back at the painting, “I just came...for someone who couldn’t…” Your expression casted more gloomy this time as you wrapped your arms around yourself, looking back at Namjoon who seemed somewhat confused at your cryptic words, “I’ve never been a big art person.” You offered a weak smile. 

“Well,” Namjoon hummed, giving you a small smile in return, “I hope that someone was able to enjoy your visit for them.” Your heart clenched as you glanced at his shoes, timberlands that blurred in your vision as you gave a bittersweet smile. 

“Yeah…” You nodded as you glanced up at Namjoon, a frown immediately on his face at your glassy eyes and sad smile as you nodded, “He did.” You hadn’t even said his name and yet sadness had swept through your whole body like an ache you’d never cure. The longing you had for your soulmate who was gone, who you’d never wake up beside, who would never hold your hand again, who’s smile you’d never see as he pointed out all of his favorite paintings. 

But Taehyung would be proud of you, wouldn’t he? Perhaps, if there was an afterlife, he would be an angel that was smiling while looking down upon you. 

“Y/n…” You felt your lurch in your throat, as if it felt physically difficult to speak as Namjoon called your name softly, tufts of warm brown hair falling against his eyebrows as he asked with sincerity, “Do you wanna get lunch together? I know a great artisan cafe nearby.” 

It was silent between you both for what felt like an eternity in nothing but a short second as you glanced back at the painting, and for a brief moment your eyes caught onto a sight of raven shaggy hair and an oversized brown cardigan. It looked all too familiar and your heart fluttered for just a brief moment until he turned around, not the face of your lover, but a stranger who embraced his girlfriend with a laugh. 

Sighing, you turned to face Namjoon as you offered a weak smile, “No thank you, I actually have somewhere I’m supposed to be.” You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, rather you chose to step aside and brush past him, feeling a melancholy gaze against your back but you refused to turn around. 

Not when your heart ached and you felt so tired. 

Stopping by the quaint little flowershop you had picked out a small bouquet of tiger lilies, his favorite, he used to love decorating the apartment to the brim with them, walking out of the shop you took a shaky breath of the cool air. 

The evening sky was brilliant, Taehyung often remarked it was like God personally painted the sky every evening, always different from the previous day but just as beautiful in it’s own right. Your feet felt heavy on the pavement as you sighed, stopping at the arched gateway, glancing to your right where the sunset was shielded by the silhouettes of willow tree’s that gently swayed in a slow dance with the wind. 

Stepping through you weave your way around the grassy corridors of walkways before you were near the middle of the cemetery, pausing in front of the gravestone where wilted flowers laid and dirt from the lawn mower had sputtered up against. 

Kneeling down you gently wiped off the stone as your fingers gently traced the name of your lover, “I went to the art museum today,” Your eyes were already blurry as you smiled endearingly at Taehyung’s name printed on the stone, setting down the blossom of tiger lilies as you crossed your legs, “To go see that Degas exhibit we had made plans to see last Autumn. Ha…” You let out a short laugh as tears trickled down your face, “Do you remember when we got the catalogue in the mail? You knocked over your mug of coffee and it stained over half the pages,” You tried to keep your voice steady as a sob escaped you, rubbing your eyes as you gave a broken laugh, “You freaked out about it  because it was hard to make out the dates but I told you to calm down and looked up the dates on the website.” 

You wiped your face with your arms as you opened your bag up, grabbing the polaroid as more tears immediately dripped down your cheeks, “Here! Don’t you like it?” You asked as you set down the photo with the flowers, smiling despite the tears that welled in your eyes, “I know it’s your favorite, you wouldn’t stop gushing about it when you first saw the exhibit advertisement.” 

It was quiet for a moment as you lowered your gaze, a whimper escaping you at the expected silence, tears dripping down your chin and splattering onto your hand as you sobbed, “Please come back.” 

Your breath was trembling and desperate as you grabbed the gravestone, pressing your forehead against it as you tried to vividly imagine it was your lovers warm skin as your tears dampened the stone, “Please come back to me Taehyung. Don’t leave me alone. Please.” 

Alone, you cried in the cemetery where your lover would permanently stay asleep.

“Just think about it Noona!” Jungkook whined as he grabbed your arm making you sigh as you turned to face him, “It’s a camping trip! We’ll be in nature, maybe you’ll feel better! I get worried about you sometimes.” 

That wasn’t fair! 

You crossed your arms as you sighed again, looking away from him as you felt guilty, not wanting to worry anyone but, you just needed time to yourself. You didn’t know when it would go away, if ever, but you just wanted to be by yourself. Alone were you could mourn in peace, where your heart could ache and tears could fill your eyes with zero shame. 

Everyday that you spent ever since had become more and more painful. The ache became that much harder to deal, “Jungkook...you know I don’t like camping…” You mumbled as you turned away from him, rearranging some of the tea canisters to look busy. 

“But you love gardening!” Jungkook whined again, fluttering beside you with those sweet doe eyes of his that always seemed to get you. 

“There’ll be a log cabin,” Yoongi added as he appeared from the kitchen, setting down a fresh platter of bakery goods, “So it really isn’t camping, unless you’re gonna be Jungkook and set up a tent anyways.”

Jungkook flailed his hands as he glared at his elder, “What’s the point in calling it a camping trip if we aren’t going to camp?” Always the stubborn and hardheaded person he was, Jungkook insisted on his words as he crossed his arms with that pouty expression of his. 

“Nobody called it a camping trip except you.” Yoongi turned to face him deadpan, Jungkook’s lips parted several times before defeatingly closing them as Yoongi snorted, “Yeah, exactly. Anyways, you should go. Shop is going to be closed anyways since Bang is going out of town to visit his parents. Unless you really wanna sulk in your apartment all week…” He shrugged as you sharply inhaled. 

“I’ll think about it…” Jungkook immediately jumped, wrapping his arms around you as he smushed you against him making you squirm, “Thank you Noona! You’ll camp with me right?” He bounced in excitement as you pushed him away from you. Jungkook always had a lack of boundaries especially when he got excited. 

“No.” You replied promptly as you turned around making him cross his arms with a humph, “Be happy I’m at least considering, you ungrateful brat.” To which Jungkook smiled cheekily. Sighing you leaned against the counter top with a hum. Maybe this would be good for you. You knew if Taehyung was here he’d be thrilled to go, immediately begging you to go with him and even saying he refused to go without you. You could never deprive him of something he loved and enjoyed. 

Maybe...just maybe…

The doors just as always at twelve thirty rang as you all glanced up to see the embodiment of the sun wave and his moon beside him who was always more reserved, “Hey! You guys are going on the trip up to the cabin right?” Hoseok bounced up to the register as he set his hands up on it and leaned forward. 

“Yes and we’re camping!” Jungkook wrapped an arm around your neck, squeezing it causing you to gag as you jammed your elbow into his stomach causing him to grunt before whining. 

“No we are not!” You whipped around as you glared at him, your lips tugging into a pout of your own as you glared at the younger boy who stubbornly crossed his arms once more. 

“Oh you’re going Y/n?” Hoseok clapped his hands in excitement as you glanced at the two men, instinctively lowering your gaze a little when you felt Namjoon’s eyes on you. They seemed sadder than normal. 

Which wasn’t normal at all. Namjoon was- he always smiled, so why didn’t he today when your eyes met his? 

“I might,” You admitted reluctantly, “I need to think it over.” Was he still thinking about your rejection at the art museum? Or your cryptic and weird words? Did he assume you were just a sad freak. A part of you desperately wondered why you didn’t see those sweet dimples today. 

“Well don’t take too long,” Hoseok winked playfully as he grinned brightly, “We’re leaving Friday and we sure could use the company. Right Namjoon?” He elbowed the quiet man a little causing him to jolt before harshly glaring at Hoseok who seemed like a little boy who had a secret he was dying to tell. 

Namjoon glanced back at you as he mustered a weak smile, but you could see in his eyes they weren’t glowing like they were before, “Of course we’d like you to come. But don’t feel pressured.” You nodded as you glanced back at the counter top. Unable to bear his gaze anymore. Trying not to overthink why he seemed so melancholy today. 

Or perhaps he was always like this and your head had just played tricks on you? No...No you could remember Namjoon’s smile as clear as day, it was bright and lovely, his eyes glowed not like the sun- not burning and harsh- but like the moon, soft and almost nostalgic as if he lived every moment of his life with gratitude and peace. 

So what happened? The only thing you could recall was what had previously happened. But surely he wasn’t upset about that? After all, he shouldn’t want to deal with a heartbroken girl who only knew how to cry. 

Unless....No…”Well I better go get more chocolate bombs for the holder.” You mumbled as you turned around, pushing the door to the back open as you shoved your thoughts to the back of your head. You wouldn’t let your mind go there.

----

You couldn’t help but feel like this was a mistake, no matter how crisp and fresh the air was, the lake view was gorgeous and reflection off the water made it look like diamonds trickled against its surface. The car ride was over four hours and you were grateful to be on your feet with all the greenery. 

You were definitely tired, not used to being around people so long outside of work after the past year. Feeling semi lethargic you let out a yawn as you rubbed your eyes, “Aren’t you excited Noona?” Jungkook curled his fists, his nose scrunched up like a bunny as he grinned like a child, “I told you it would be pretty here!”

You were tired, definitely, but you mustered a smile, a small one as you replied, “Yeah...it is.” You glanced back out over the lake before fixing your bag over your shoulder. Like Jungkook said, this would be good for you...hopefully...The cabin was fairly big and everyone, even you helped pitched in the rent for it for the next two days. Jimin was excited for you, telling you to try and enjoy yourself and if all else failed he’d come and pick you up. 

You would certainly try your best to not let that happen though, of course Jimin would be willing to drive eight hours for you on a work day. Everyone was still outside, you could hear shouts and laughter, water splashing as you stepped inside the cabin. 

It was warm and cozy, buried in neutrals and warm colors, blankets piled on the couch that sat in front of the fireplace. Walking around you examined each room before smiling a little, choosing the one that had a lake view, Taehyung would certainly love it. Pulling the polaroid camera out of your bag you lifted it up before taking a photo of the window. You’d make sure to bring it to show him when you came back home. 

“I didn’t take you for polaroids.” 

You jumped as your gaze snapped to the person who seemed to become all too familiar with you the past month now. Pulling the photograph out of the dispenser you gave it a little wave as silence sat between you both, “I’m not.” You mumbled as you carefully set the camera back in your bag, your thumbs edging the sharp stiff ends of the photo. 

“Y/n,” You didn’t look up at him despite his voice sounding soft, feet gently padding against the floor and he was surely right behind you now, Namjoon’s voice soft, maybe even a little sad as he murmured, “Why do you always seem so sad when I ask?”

Letting your fingers trace against the photocard you let a small melancholy smile tug on your lips, “Because,” Your eyes blurred a little and your throat felt tight as you mumbled, “These things I do, going to art museums, taking polaroids, I do them because,” You turned to face Namjoon as a tear slid down your cheek, “He loved it. Even if I never did. I do it for him..” 

Namjoon’s expression had hardened a little, he seemed lost, maybe even angry, maybe he was tired of constantly seeing tears in your eyes, he bowed his head a little, eyes seeming somewhat broody as he muttered, “I see…I’ll leave you to it, I guess…” 

You weren’t sure why your heart clenched at the way his face seemed so forlorn, broody as he turned on his heels. Your throat squeezing and his name never reached your lips like you instinctively wanted too. 

You thought that, maybe when he left you’d feel better, more at peace. But that broody expression haunted you as you sat up in the window seal loft, letting your knee’s curl against your chest as a dull ache came from your heart. 

This ache was different, it wasn’t like the one you had anytime you thought of your soulmate. This was...different. New. Like something was wilted but still had a chance. Your chest felt heavy and your mind was telling you to go after Namjoon, to get him to smile and clear up whatever misunderstanding there was. You didn’t understand either, truthfully, what did you say to make him look like that? 

You had opened yourself up and told him a little and he...he acted gloomy, as if life was sucked from his body. You didn’t understand but...but you’d like too...Watching everyone splash and muffled screams from the window you let your head press against the glass as you sighed. Closing your eyes, even in the crowdest places you always felt so lonely. 

-----

 It was a full moon out tonight, glossy and incandescent to anything you had ever seen. Oftentimes when you felt lonely Taehyung used to always tell you, ‘Just look at the moon whenever you feel lonely. Someone at that exact moment is looking at it as well. You’re never truly alone’

It always made you feel better, even now. Someone was probably looking at this same moon as you right now and you couldn’t help but wonder. What were they thinking? Was there a reason they were admiring such a beautiful sight as the sky? Carefully you slipped on your shoes, curling the cardigan around your body as you opened the main door of the cabin before walking outside. 

Grassing brushing softly against your feet and crickets cooed with the rustle of trees and cool air, it was a little humid out but not hot enough to make you want to shed your cozy layer. Walking down the path you glanced up at the sky were the stars speckled across the deep midnight blue horizon. 

You paused on your walk when you noticed a little wooden bridge, it wasn’t the cute sight itself but the person who stood on it, “Namjoon?” You called out softly to the man who was leaning over the railing, observing the moon that sat in the painted sky. He jolted before whipping around as you approached slowly. 

“Y/n…?” He seemed surprised, of course he was, it was only two in the morning after all. You were supposed to be the only one out here right here, trying to clear your head, let go of what your heart didn’t want too. 

Wrapping your arms around yourself you stepped onto the bridge as you murmured softly, “May I join you?” It was hard making out his facial expressions in the moonlight, but you thought maybe you saw hesitation on his face for a brief moment. 

“Of course,” Even in the dark you could spot those pretty dimples, leaning back against the railing he hummed, “You’re always a pleasant company to have.” For some reason, his words took you off guard. They seemed...sincere, yet, distant perhaps? They seemed odd given the last time you had spoken. 

You let your arms rest against the railing beside him, crickets sounding and the water gently lapped, even in the dark though the moonlight reflected against the water making it sparkle with assorted gems. It was quiet between you both yet the pressure in your chest swelled, the sudden need to apologize for earlier today. You weren’t sure why it felt imperative to do so. Or as if it was even necessary. 

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong earlier-” “I’m sorry about what I said earlier-” 

It seemed you were not the only one to have an apology on your mind. Both you and Namjoon had bursted at the same time before pausing, tripping over one anothers words before you stopped altogether. Glancing at him briefly before you both began to laugh softly. 

“I’m sorry- uh you can go first!” You squeaked, glancing away from him as you looked back out over the water, letting your body lean against the old wooden grooves that scraped lightly against your skin. 

Namjoon was silent for a moment before he replied, somewhat quiet, maybe even shy? “Well…” He drawled, “I just...wanted to apologize about earlier. My words were unnecessary and I shouldn’t have asked you such a personal question. You have every right to feel the way you do and it wasn’t my place to ask something like that.” 

It was silent for another moment before you let your eyes flit to Namjoon’s figure, you could make out the silhouette of his face which seemed almost forlorn, in deep thought as he looked out over the moon, “Oh…” You mumbled, as you glanced back at your hands, fingers tracing the dry harsh groove of the wooden railing, “Well...I just wanted to say I’m sorry for…” You paused for a moment, what were you apologising for? “...being me I guess.” 

You didn’t mean for it to sound depressing, but you supposed it was the truth, you felt like you had become nothing but a shell of a person since what had happened. Like you had become closed off, difficult to get to know, moody, temperamental. It was no wonder Namjoon was so fed up with your constant switch in behavior, “I know I’m...me...but...thank you for tolerating it. It’s nice having someone outside of my friends to talk to.” 

“Don’t apologize for that.” Your gaze jumped to Namjoon, a little startled at how stern his voice was, you couldn’t necessarily see him but you could feel his sharp, judgmental gaze on your figure, “I’m sure you have your reasons. And truthfully, like I said. I just… had clouded judgment,” Namjoon murmured cryptically, “I let my emotions get in the way when I talked to you earlier today. I’m more than happy to be your friend Y/n! You aren’t a burden or something I’m just tolerating, I talk to you because I like you.” 

You felt better but....something still felt withered inside you...you mustered a smile as you shrugged, “I guess so...I know I’m not always responsive sometimes...but...if we’re okay then let’s not talk about what happened anymore! What are you doing out here so late?” You didn’t want to dwell on what happened, it made you feel icky and gross inside even after clearing things up with Namjoon, you still didn’t understand why it wouldn’t go away. 

Namjoon laughed a little as he shrugged, “To think, I’ve always been a bit of a moon child honestly. Looking up at the sky always helps me clear my head. I should be asking you what you’re doing out this late.”

You rubbed the back of your neck bashfully as you shrugged, “I couldn’t sleep tonight, I like going out on walks, get out of my room, my head.” You glanced down at the rippling water, a frown on your face as you held in a sigh. Truthfully, you couldn’t sleep because Namjoon’s expression kept playing in your head. The way he seemed so distant and cold earlier, it bothered you to no end yet you didn’t understand why.

So you came out here to look at the moon in the open, feel the warm air on your skin and maybe you’d find whatever you were looking for. It seemed, what you had been looking for was Namjoon, and of course there he was, on this bridge. You didn’t know what this meant or what to take away from it. But you were happy you found him regardless.

“I can understand that,” Namjoon chuckled softly, his expression soft as he glanced up at the night sky, gaze still somewhat muted compared to before but...it still seemed sad, maybe the kind of sad where you just accept a situation for what it was, “Well, at least the moon brought us together.” 

His gaze met yours as you mirrored his smile, a little bashful as you rubbed your cheek, looking out over the rippling water as you mumbled, “I guess it did…” Letting your chin rest against your arms as you stretched out your back. There was something… oddly comforting about Namjoon’s presence? You weren’t sure, but you liked it…

You really liked it.

“Have you ever considered that Plato was just on drugs the whole time he was writing?” You slurped on your noodles as you glanced up to meet Namjoon’s exasperated expression making you smile as you snorted. 

“Dualism?” 

“Drugs. Who the fuck thinks about the mind and body being seperated in like 11 AD?” You snorted again as Namjoon groaned, sinking into his seat. He had been trying to talk about his latest readings to you and you had been...not making fun of it! Just...making the conversation interesting, “No seriously, didn’t they burn women back then for just knowing how to read? It just seems so...primitive for philosophy to be introduced so early in time with all things considering back then….”

Namjoon rubbed his face as he sighed, unable to resist the smile that tugged on his lips as he clacked his tongue, “Alright fair enough, what do you suggest we talk about then if you refuse to talk philosophy.” 

You puckered your lips, holding your chopsticks animately as you replied, “We could talk about how corrupt the patriarchy was throughout time and how men used religion as a way to justify the oppression of women and slavery?” 

You snorted at the way Namjoon, for the first time in your friendship seemed speechless, perhaps impressed, or simply just stunned before he sighed with a shrug, “Alright fine, but first of all some women actually did have some say in different cultures. But it had a lot more to do with classism then gender. Take a look at the Spartans as examples.” 

You held up a finger as you replied, “Except the only reason women received burials was because they gave birth to Spartans? I mean A for effort I guess,” You rolled your eyes, “But that doesn’t change the fact that women were only honored for giving birth to men, still seems like a convoluted way of saying women weren’t worth even burials unless they were of some use to men.” 

Namjoon hummed as he rubbed his chin, “Fair point, really I think because-” 

“Well look who it is!”

Both you and Namjoon jumped at the sound of a chipper loud voice, your lips twisted into a mild frown at the sight of Jungkook and Hoseok’s shit eating grins, without invitation immediately plopping down in the booth, Jungkook sitting beside you and Hoseok mirroring him, “So what are you two doing on this fine day?” 

There was something in Jungkook’s tone that made you shift awkwardly, why did he sound like you both were up to something when you weren’t, rubbing the back of your neck you mumbled, somewhat reluctantly, “Well we were just having lunch…?” 

“Oh, you mean like-” Hoseok suddenly grunted in pain, Namjoon harshly elbowing him as he cut his eyes at his best friend. You glanced between the both of them, it seemed like they were having a conversation by only facial expressions before Namjoon spoke up, “We were just talking about the oppression of women through history. Thoughts?” 

Both Hoseok and Jungkook wrinkled their noses, never ones to get involved in these kinds of discussions no matter how true they may be. Rather than talk about that, it seemed they had come over to, what? Stir the pot?

“Nah,” Jungkook attempted to wrap an arm around your neck as you shoved him away, a grin on his face as he hummed, “I just haven’t seen Noona getting out as of late, it’s good to see you both together.” Now you were feeling weird. Rubbing the back of your neck you looked away from all of them, well aware of your expression becoming flatter by the moment. 

Namjoon was beginning to look apprehensive as well as he coughed, “Uh, well, we were just eating…?” He seemed somewhat sheepish and even if it was unsaid you could tell he was trying to make it clear this wasn’t a date...Right? You had paused mentally for a moment, but...this did kind of seem like a date…

No, friends could hang out! You nodded to yourself silently, Namjoon was a friend and you needed friends, and in order to make friends you had to hang out! And even so, it wasn’t like Namjoon was interested in you and...you...you....a lump in your throat formed as you pucker your lips on your cup. No you weren’t gonna go there. 

“Right…!” Hoseok gave a bright yet odd smile as him and Jungkook shared a laugh, as if they knew something you didn’t, “Well, we’ll just ah...let you two get back to it.” He winked as Jungkook wiggled a brow at you before they both got up. 

You felt confusion wash over you as you watched them both walk away, frowning a little as you sank back in your seat, “That was weird.” Were the first words that tumbled out of your lips. On one hand you wanted to ask why they were acting like that but...wasn’t it obvious…? 

Namjoon offered a weak smile as he rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah…” His reply was hardly a murmur though as he looked down at his pork bulgogi looking not nearly as hungry as he proclaimed he was twenty minutes ago. 

The rest of your lunch had become...stale...no matter how hard you or Namjoon tried the air of what had happened with Hoseok and Jungkook lingered and continued to pester the back of your head. What were they trying to insinuate? That it was a date? Because it wasn’t…! You weren’t…! You could feel frustration tug inside your subconscious but you didn’t understand why. 

Namjoon and you were currently walking on the sidewalk, namely back to your apartment which just so happened to be on the same path as one of Namjoon’s acqtuance’s house where he had promised he would help them study. The weather was nice today, the wind was blowing a cool breeze and the sun was warm on your skin. On harder days you often tried to sunbathe, to soak in it’s rays and feel it’s warmth. You had read somewhere that if you soaked up enough warmth that it would manifest into positivity.

Or maybe that was just something you made up to make yourself feel better? On dimmer days you like grounding yourself in your five senses, even if they seemed dull and void. Today was not a bad day though. Not for the weather and neither for you. In fact, it was perfect. The air was fresh and you could smell the lavender bushes on the sidewalk that had been planted waft with each blow of breeze. 

“I’m really sorry for what happened.” You opened your eyes as you paused, looking at Namjoon who walked beside you, his cheeks looked a little red and he wouldn’t meet your gaze as you tilted your head, unsure of what there was to be sorry for. His gaze flicked to yours, seeing your confusion before immediately following up, “About Hoseok and Jungkook...ah…” He gave a somewhat weak smile as he looked away, hesitation in his eyes, “It feels like they made things weird…”

“No..!” You immediately shook your head, not wanting to make him feel worse by admitting they really did make you feel odd, but you were positive that was your own self projection, after all you had that tendency with Namjoon since you first met… “It’s fine, you don’t need to apologize.” You offered a soft smile as you began to walk again, Namjoon following along said to you as you continued, “It was weird yeah, but, I mean we’re still friends so…” Pausing in front of the entrance of your apartment complex you shrugged as you smiled, “Don’t worry about it! They’re just being dumb. Anyways, i’ll see you later.” 

You offered one last smile before heading into your apartment, Namjoon deflating somewhat as he sighed, watching you walk away once again as he rubbed the back of his neck, kicking a small pebble that had surfaced from the pebble surface of the resident sign, “Yeah...friends…” 

Namjoon decided to not linger on your words, the more he thought about it the more it stung and he didn’t want to act like a kicked puppy, you didn’t owe him anything other then your friendship he just...He sighed as he began walking to his friends home, surely he’d give good advice. After all, Seokjin was highly popular with women. 

After arriving at his apartment Namjoon hadn’t intended on letting out as much as he did, but it was admittedly nice to unload all of his feelings without feeling obligated to hold back, if he told his best friend he knew Hoseok would only make things worse despite having good intentions. 

“So,” Seokjin plopped the sucker into his mouth, leaning back on the bed as his eyes glazed over the textbook, “You what…? Wanna bang her? What’s the deal?” 

“No!” Namjoon immediately objected before groaning as he sank back in his seat, unsure of how to explain, “I don’t just want to sleep with her…” He muttered, “I just...want to get to know her. But it feels like there's this…” He waved his hand around, “Invisible wall, like she doesn’t want me to get to know her. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything to make her like this though…” He paused a moment, evaluating all of his past actions. Namjoon was positive he was a nice guy, you owed him nothing but, he had hoped maybe at least his behavior would explain why you were like this yet...He genuinely couldn’t think of anything. 

Well except maybe back last month at the cabin when he had gotten cold, the memory made him wince but...you had been even worse before then...So what was it…? Namjoon felt helpless as he glanced at his elder who shrugged loosely, pulling the sucker from his mouth as he replied, “Maybe it’s just her Namjoon. Regardless she doesn’t sound interested so you shouldn’t get your hopes up.” 

Namjoon paused, could it just be you…? He never actually thought about it before, always assuming he was the problem. Not that you were the problem but, “I just wish things weren’t so easy to become awkward between us.” He sighed as he flipped the page of his book. 

Seokjin eyed him curiously as he hummed, “Well what do you mean? Awkward how?” Seokjin didn’t consider himself a playboy like many would dub him but he had definitely gotten around enough to at least get an idea of how women worked emotionally, when to pursue and when to back off. 

Namjoon shrugged as he replied, “It’s just...weird...I can tell she starts overthinking and questioning. Like it’s difficult for her to even go out for just lunch with me. Awkward like, just the idea of being on a date with me makes her wanna bail...that kind of awkward…” He slumped in his seat, “Am I really that unlikeable?” 

Seokjin snorted, curving a brow at his friend who looked rather pathetic at the moment, “I think,” Tapping his lip Seokjin hummed, “She has some stuff she’s sorting out, and it’s not you. It’s just her, I’m sure if you asked her that, she’d say the same. If you haven’t been an ass to her in any way shape or form, it sounds like she’s just working through some stuff. Sucks but hey, you won’t know if you don’t ask…” 

Namjoon groaned, he knew Seokjin was right, if he’d just got the balls and asked you he was positive you’d give him an answer...well- doubt filled his mind, “I think her last boyfriend left her, or...maybe he hurt her? I don’t know.”

This perked Seokjin’s attention, straightening a little as he curved a brow, “Oh?” 

Rubbing his neck he shrugged as he weakly replied, “Yeah, she mentions some guy sometimes, whenever I ask about the things she does which she doesn’t enjoy. Like that polaroid she carries around, or she sometimes goes out to museums. I don’t know.” Jealousy oozed despite Namjoon knowing he had no right to feel jealous. 

Just the idea of someone hurting you deeply upset and angered him though, especially if it was to the point of you closing your heart to anyone else, Seokjin pressed his lips together, “Huh...that is kind of weird. Well…” Seokjin rose a brow as he emphasised his words while glaring Namjoon down, “Guess you’ll never know if you don’t ask.” Namjoon could only muster a groan. Asking you had to be the worst idea ever. 

----

“Come on! Noona it’ll be a fun way for you to get out!” You sighed in exasperation, looking away from Jungkook’s big puppy eyes that were just begging you to go with him, it was already hard enough to get yourself out of bed by noon today just to meet up with him for lunch let alone going to a party tonight. 

“Jungkook,” You pressed your lips together, trying to look at him only for him to whine as he shifted in his seat, the food court in the mall was packed today with life and energy, you had promised Jungkook you’d help him shop for more dressy clothes today as he was...attempting to pursue someone. Whoever that may be as he was too shy to say, “You know I’m not into parties…” 

“Just this once!” Jungkook begged as he laced his fingers together, sitting up in his seat with his lips jutted into a pitiful pout, “I’ll stay with you the whole time Noona! I think it’ll be fun! And if it isn’t we can go home the moment you say and- and I’ll buy you some kimbap and we can watch a movie of your choice!” 

He drove a hard bargain, you sighed as you sunk into your seat, crossing your arms in thought, you supposed...there couldn’t be any harm in going…? You pressed your lips together as you closed your eyes briefly, just thinking about this made you exhausted but you knew Jimin would be ecstatic if you had went out tonight, he had been encouraging you to get out more and….”Okay let’s say, I went to this party...who would be there?” 

Jungkook’s lips parted in excitement as you cut him off, “That I know.” 

His lips immediately snapped shut once more, as his eyes dropped to the table somewhat sheepishly, “Look, Noona...Think of it like this, it’s a great opportunity to meet new people! Hoseok and Namjoon will be there! You know them! And they know people you could meet too! I’ll be there for what it’s worse…” He gave a bright bunny smile as you looked away from him, “Hey! Don’t give me that look!” He cried out with another pout on his face. 

Taehyung and you both never enjoyed parties, he was a social butterfly sure but he always said he hated the taste of alcohol and besides, what was the point in going out when he could just stay in with you. It felt like a bitter prick against your heart at the bitter reminder. Right, you were gonna stay in tonight, maybe cry in the shower, wear that set of pajamas that used to match with his while watching a stupid romcom he loved. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Hey Y/n.” 

You closed your eyes as you put your hands on your face trying to cover the tears that rolled down your cheeks, “Sorry.” You sniffed as you felt both shame and embarrassment coil inside your body, all this time and you can hardly even think about him without crying still. It’s no wonder Jungkook probably doesn’t want to hang out with you. 

“Noona!” Jungkook cried out, “You have nothing to apologize for, look,” He fumbled somewhat frantically as he gathered up the trash of your left over food, “You don’t have to go, it was just a suggestion! I don’t want you to be sad though so let’s go over to the Gap and I want your opinion on these two shirts okay?” 

You sniffled as you rubbed your watery eyes, a snort escaping you as you replied, “The Gap has ugly clothing Jungkook.” To which he gasped in offense as you stood up with him. 

“First of all don’t judge until you see, second of all you have horrible taste Noona, no offense.” You rolled your eyes despite the tiny smile tugging on your lips as you wrapped your arms around yourself. Maybe, Jungkook was right, and after all…he said he’d take you home if you weren’t having fun...

This was an awful idea. There was no backing out of this idea once you expressed your interest to Jungkook and he dragged you from store to store because this outing was no longer about him as it was finding something new for you to wear, he had even insisted on paying for it himself. 

Jungkook was no longer in sight nor on your mind as he had been talking to Hoseok last you had seen him, who was cheerifully talking to him despite the shy look on his face. Of course he had gotten your permission, not wanting to leave you by yourself, just as he promised he wouldn’t. For as much of annoying brat as he was, he was also truly a sweetheart.

“Are you okay?” Your concern however, wasn’t on Jungkook right now given you were no longer downstairs as you paused and turned towards Namjoon who looked like he was having a mid life crisis despite being twenty four and at a frat party- but you supposed being younger than twenty one at something like this could cause that.

Namjoon’s eyes darted at the closed door and his mouth felt dry, opting to nod instead as you sat down on the bed. Truthfully you had made the pack to just stick to Jungkook tonight and let him do the talking but  it was by chance you bumped into Namjoon here who had also been dragged to this party by his friend- Seokjin who was apparently a frat brother at this fraternity.

It was loud and the whole place reeked of weed, whoever wasn’t locked in a haze was definitely drunk and it had been over all unpleasant. 

The one saving grace you had found was Namjoon, it was too loud downstairs and with Jungkook off with Hoseok you kept getting interrupted by other people asking for him. Finally asking if Namjoon would like to go upstairs where it would be more quiet. 

And here you were, “It’s nice up here.” You glanced around the semi clean room, “At least it smells like Axe.” Which wasn’t much better than marijuana but you’d take it.

Namjoon snorted as he plopped down on the bed, a humored smile on his lips as he replied, “Yeah it just smells like a middle school boys locker room.” He laid back against the bed as he stretched out, closing his eyes as he soaked in the atmosphere, today felt...different...he wasn’t sure how but, he liked it. 

You seemed happy today, or at least you looked happy. And you were smiling more at work. Namjoon really liked your smile, “Hey,” He hummed as he opened his eyes and glanced at your upright figure, “Why did you come tonight? I thought you didn’t like parties?” 

You gave a somewhat sheepish laugh as you shrugged, running a hand through your hair as you replied, “Ah well…” You seemed a little flustered as you glanced away from him- not wanting to admit that Jungkook had nearly cried from begging you to come because he really wanted you to at least try it just once, all in the name of getting yourself back out there, but the one leading motivate that he continuously brought up, was Namjoon, “Jungkook wanted someone to come with him. He gets worried about me occasionally.” You rolled your eyes briefly despite the small smile on your face, “Says he doesn’t want me to become a hermit.”

Namjoon’s expression softened a little, that was something else he never quite understood, were your friends just that caring…? It seemed a bit unnormal the way they always eyed you with concern despite you brushing them off, “It just shows he cares.” Namjoon offered a smile as you sighed, flopping down onto your back next to him as you glanced up at the ceiling. 

“I know,” You admitted as your smile slowly formed into a frown, your gaze hardened at the dirty ceiling as your brows pinched together, “I just…” You inhaled sharply, sounding somewhat frustrated as you sighed, “I just wish they’d treat me normal sometimes...you know? It’s nice knowing everyone supports me but…” You felt a bitter smile curl on your lips, “I can always see the pity, like I’m just a kicked puppy that needs a little love…They all mean well but…” 

“I can understand why you’d feel frustrated,” Namjoon spoke up, rolling over to face you, sincerity in his eyes as he spoke, “I wouldn’t want to be treated like that either. It’s hard being in a room full of people who all look at you like you’re broken when you aren’t.”

His words hit deeper then you wanted to admit, your throat suddenly feeling restricted as you glowered at the ceiling trying to blink back tears. Perhaps it was the realization that people do look at you like you're broken. Maybe you were, afterall, you weren’t the same anymore. You could barely hold a smile on your face anymore. 

You suffered long nights full of dreams of torment and tears in your waking hour to numbness and wondering why life was even worth living. You had debated on the fall from your window and you had even wondered about the knives in the kitchen drawers. You felt your lips twitch into a bitter smile as you laughed, feeling tears drip down as you replied, “I’d think the same if I were them. I don’t even blame them.” 

Namjoon sat up as he frowned, looking resentful at your words as you wiped your face, “Hey.” You sniffed a little as you sat up, wiping your tears on your sleeve, “You aren’t broken, people shouldn’t be so quick to judge.” 

“You’re just saying that because you're nice.” You scoffed as you glanced down at the bed, your eyes glaring despite the blur, you fought with yourself at night on why Namjoon was even friends with you, surely he just thought you needed help. Needed friends. Why did it hurt to think of it like that? It’s what you wanted, right? 

You squeaked in surprise at Namjoon’s large hands suddenly cupping your face, forcing you to look him in the eyes as you were taken back on how intense his stare was, anger evident on his face as his jaw clenched, “Don’t assume that. You aren’t broken and I don’t look at you like you need to be fixed okay?” His expression softened a little as he watched your eyes begin to blur again, your shoulders shaking as sniffled, trying your damnedest to not cry as you gritted your teeth. 

Defeatedly you closed your eyes as you let your tears fall, why couldn’t you stop crying? Why was everything so confusing and why did it all have to hurt? Namjoon let his thumb rub across your cheekbone, wiping away the tears that dripped down as you closed your eyes, “I don’t care what’s happened okay? I just want to help you be happy again.”

“I don’t deserve it,” You spat out as you choked on your tears, unable to even look at him, you felt so useless, worthless, all of the life left your body with Taehyung when he- your breath escaped you, catching yourself as you nearly choked on the influx of tears. It didn’t matter anymore, nothing mattered anymore. He was gone and he wasn’t coming back. 

Namjoon could feel his heart crumble with every tear that dropped down your face, his thumbs soothingly wiping every drop away, “Yes you do. Please, don’t say that about yourself.” Namjoon felt like a faucet and he couldn’t stop the overflow of emotions, unable to keep it to himself any longer when you were so obviously in pain. When you hated yourself for reasons unknown to him, “You will always be worth it to me, okay?” He pressed his forehead against yours, his smile pained as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut, “There will never be a day I don’t think that?” He said breathlessly, his eyes dulled and pained at your sobs, “Don’t cry love.” He spoke softly, closing his eyes, letting the warmth of your skin seep against his as he rubbed his thumbs over your cheeks. 

“I don’t know how. I-I’m sorry....” You mumbled as you sharply sniffled, trying to calm yourself down as your heart ached. You thought for sure you had gotten better, but it became apparent you were just trying to block Taehyung out, and you couldn’t do that. He didn’t deserve it. Taehyung absolutely did not deserve to be blocked out of your memory or forgotten. 

“Shhh.” Namjoon hummed soothingly, his nose rubbing against yours, his fingers tracing down your jawline, “You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Your lips trembled at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin, you could feel the hesitation from him, just a ghost of brush from his lips as you sniffled before he fully pressed his lips against yours. 

The kiss was wet, not in a very pleasant way, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks as his lips began to tenderly stroke against yours, his hands so warm against your face as you sobbed against his mouth, parting your lips at the feeling of his soft lips that felt so right against yours. It was like intimacy and warmth you craved. 

The kiss which was gentle quickly turned more heated, your body immediately crawling closer to his as your lips parted for him, his tongue immediately pushing past to enter your mouth as dominance was immediately one, a soft moan escaped you as long fingers trailed down your face to your neck. Your body was lighting up at the memory of those long fingers wrapped around your throat, the heat of his body against yours. 

All the sleepless nights you spent together moaning in passion. Taehyung’s hands trailed down your waist, squeezing tight making you whimper as you crawled into his lap, seeking the comfort only he could bring as you let his tongue lap and force yours into submission in a sloppy wet kiss. 

The knock on the door immediately made you jolt, opening your eyes only to let out a yelp. This was not Taehyung- but Namjoon. You frantically fell out of his lap, all too aware of your shocked expression and tear stained face as you wiped your mouth...You just...kissed Namjoon...The twist of betrayal in your heart wouldn’t stop stabbing as the door opened. 

Namjoon’s lips had parted, looking somewhat frantic to apologize and explain himself when he saw how devastated your expression was, “Oh- uh sorry.” Seokjin looked somewhat sheepish to see the both of you, a girl peeping behind his shoulder looking somewhat embarrassed herself, “Were we um…?” 

“No!” You sharply replied, getting off the bed as you felt your hands violently tremble. You just...you just kissed...you imagined...you thought…“You didn’t.” You rushed past the both of them as you the music pounded into your head and it was like the lights became blurred but not from tears anymore. All of your senses were on overload as your mind sneered at you, you just kissed someone who wasn’t Taehyung, as if he didn’t exist, it didn’t matter whether or not you thought it was him. It wasn’t. It wasn’t Taehyung, how were you ever supposed to forgive yourself? 

“Y/n! Y/n!” 

You didn’t stop until you were suddenly yanked back, “Y/n please,” Namjoon looked at you pleading, “I’m sorry, I overstepped my boundaries and I shouldn’t-” 

“I don’t like you Namjoon.” Your heart was frantically beating out of your chest as tears began to blur in your eyes, shaking your head as you pulled from his grip, “This- it wouldn’t work. Don’t waste your time.” Your voice was ice cold despite the tears dripping down your face as you glared at him, the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable as you turned around. 

Your body in shock as you closed your eyes, letting the tears slide down your cheeks. Walking downstairs you bumped into the person you were just looking for. Jungkook had first smiled upon seeing you before his expression immediately became worried, “What happened?” He was by your side instantly. 

Sobbing you covered your ears, the music and lights too much as guilt ate you alive, “I wanna go home Jungkook.” You felt like a child as you wrapped your arms around yourself, Jungkook immediately wrapping an arm around you as he guided you out of the house. 

How could you ever function after this…? 

“Y/n please, we’re worried.” Jimin kneeled down in front of you as your body trembled, burying further into your blanket curled up on the couch as you shook your head. You couldn’t even speak about what happened without feeling the violent urge to throw up. 

How could you ever do that to Taehyung? What would he think? Closing your eyes you sobbed once more as you heard Jimin demand, “What happened? What do you mean she came downstairs crying?” 

Jungkook sat beside you and had refused to leave your house despite it being three in the morning, concern washed on his expression as he replied, “I don’t know! She and Namjoon went upstairs for a while and then she came back down crying and asked to come home. She wouldn’t talk the whole way home.” 

Just the sound of his name sickened you, your fists curling against the blanket. You couldn’t be angry at him, after all, you had enjoyed it. You craved it. You were the one who was disgusting. Jimin rested his hands on the couch as he looked at you with a frown, “Y/n…” His heart broke at the sight of your crumpled figure buried in blankets, “Did he take advantage of you? What happened?” 

“I imagined him…” You sobbed as you whispered, lips trembling at just the mental imagine in your head, looking up at them with tears welling as you confessed, “I kissed him and all I could see was Taehyung.” You buried back into the blankets as you sobbed, tears staining the warm cotton as you closed your eyes, “I miss him so fucking much. It hurts, it hurts to even breathe knowing he's dead. What’s the point in even being alive if he isn’t here with me? I’d do anything to be with him again. I can’t fucking do this anymore.” 

You curled up as you squeezed your eyes shut, confessing every single thought that had built in your head, “I can’t…!” You couldn’t even register who was hugging you or who was saying what anymore, it was all a blur.

You weren’t even sure when you fell asleep. 

Waking up your head was groggy and you groaned, when did you get in bed and... why was Jungkook here? Jungkook was curled up next to you, his breath in a soft rhythm as you sat up, rubbing your head as you began to recall the night before, your suddenly squeezing as you swallowed back the shame and guilt. 

Stupid

Stupid 

Stupid. 

You should’ve kept it to yourself- you were never supposed to say anything you said last night…”Hey…” You coiled away from Jungkook’s soft voice, deeper than normal as he had obviously just woke up, if he didn’t think you were a kicked puppy before he definitely does now, “Hey…:” His voice was considerably softer as he sat up, a frown on his lips as he spoke, “You don’t need to feel ashamed for last night Noona...it’s good to get that stuff out…” 

Pressing your hands against your face you felt absolutely mortified as you remembered in vivid detail what happened at the party, “I kissed Namjoon,” You whispered under your breath, “And all I could see was him.” You swallowed the thick knot that squeezed in your throat as you felt Jungkook comfortingly press his hand on your shoulder. 

“It’s a process Noona,” Jungkook felt his lips quiver a little, not liking seeing you in such despair, you often hid it well but overtones always lingered, it hurt seeing you like this, “Don’t be so hard on yourself.” A soft knock on the door sounded through the room before it opened, Jimin poking his head in as his eyes turned sad at the way your body curled into itself. 

“How are you feeling?” Jimin sat on the edge of the bed as you snorted. 

“Like crap.” 

You could hear them both chuckle and you even felt your lips tug into a smile briefly before they quivered back into a frown, “God, I’m sorry guys…” You felt awful, you ruined both of their nights and probably their sleep, just to listen to you cry. 

They both were immediately objecting as you inhaled slowly, sinking into yourself as Jimin sighed as well, his gaze soft as he pressed his lips together, silence taking over the room before he slowly spoke, “Y/n...I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but...I think maybe, we should get you help…” You parted your lips, wanting to object but he continued, “You need help. Y/n,” His lips quivered a little, “I lost my best friend,” His eyes looked glossy as he forced a smile, “I can’t lose you too. Please, at least for a week, for me.” 

You lowered your gaze as you rubbed your face, maybe it would be for the best, you were beginning to see things that weren’t there, Taehyung was everywhere you looked, you could never escape the ghost of him no matter how hard you tried, “I…” You glanced at the sheets in resignation as you sighed, “Okay…” You mumbled, “I’ll give it a try.” 

Only because you didn’t want them to worry over you. 

----

Namjoon couldn’t say for sure what had happened, but he knew, deep down, he had fucked up. Running a hand through his hair he groaned as he paused at the shop in front of him. He knew seeing you now was a bad idea, you’d probably go to the back room and you wouldn’t want to talk to him. 

But he just…! He just needed to know why. Why couldn’t he be with you? He never meant to fall in love with you, but he loved your smile you rarely showed, or the way you’d give witty comments to every subject he’d try to be serious about. And for once, he loved being not serious. With you. Did he go too fast? Should he have waited? 

Namjoon almost didn’t want to go inside, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to handle the rejection, sometimes, it doesn’t matter how long you wait, some people are just not interested. But he was so sure you were, your eyes always seemed so bright and lit up when you laughed together, or how it would soften and you’d listen intently to his worries. He just needed to know…! 

Determined he opened the door to the shop where his lips immediately quirked into a frown. Jungkook had just finished serving a customer when their eyes met, a frown also on his lips as he looked away, “Jungkook…! Where is she?” Namjoon must have looked pathetic, his eyes pleading as he hurried to the counter where Jungkook shied away from him, straightening out some of the coffee canisters as he turned his back to Namjoon, “Hyung….I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He mumbled, somewhat meekly as he figidied. 

Namjoon pressed his hands against the counter as his gaze hardened, “Is she not here?” Of course you weren’t here, he should’ve known you’d take the day off to avoid him. If the need to speak to you wasn’t imperative before it certainly was now, “Jungkook please, I just need to know.” 

Jungkook pressed his lips together as he turned around, frowning as his big doe eyes searched his elder, unsure if you’d appreciate him spilling what had been going on. And truthfully it wasn’t his place either, Jungkook sighed as he spoke reluctantly, “It’s not you Hyung, it’s her...She knows that better than anyone. I won’t say anything because It’s not my story to tell...I’ll talk to her about it and if she says it’s okay I’ll let you know where she is. Okay?” 

Namjoon could feel his lips tremble a little before lowering his head in defeat, Jungkook’s expression was serious and if this was the best he could get then he’d just have to take it, Namjoon felt pathetic and desperate but he just needed to see you. To at least know you were okay. Your expression wasn’t just shocked at the party...you looked devastated. He didn’t understand and he wanted to, he needed to so badly. 

“Thanks Jungkook.” He muttered with a sigh as he rubbed the back of his head, his phone vibrated in his pocket for the fifth time, Seokjin had been blowing up his phone the whole morning, apologies and questions had been spammed and he supposed, he’d stop by the frat house and sulk. 

Jungkook offered an apologetic smile as Namjoon sighed, trudging out the door in defeat as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, the frat house was a short walk from the cafe and he had spent the majority of the time trying to gather his thoughts into something comprehensible for his friend to dissect. 

“You could’ve at least sent me a text!” Seokjin scolded as he opened his bedroom door letting Namjoon walk in, the bitter reminder of the same bed he had sat on not too long ago and let his emotions get the better of him. He couldn’t help himself though, he couldn’t stand watching you cry much less sob, and he had seen you in that state so many times. He just wanted to help, he wanted to make you feel better. 

Seokjin frowned as he paused from his scolding at the way Namjoon dejected collapsed on his bed, walking over he searched the man’s empty expression as he sighed, “What did you do?” 

“I ruined everything.” Namjoon sulked as he pressed his hands to his face, “I kissed her and she looked at me like I was a ghost. I asked Jungkook where she was but he won’t say anything.” 

Seokjin hummed as he sat on the edge of the bed next to his friend, “Maybe she just needs time to sort out her feelings. I talked about it before but it’s pretty apparent now that she obviously has a lot going on, Namjoon.” 

Namjoon knew that had to be the case, otherwise you’d already be apologizing when you didn’t even need too, right? You’d be trying to fix whatever that was last night, and hey, he’d rather have you as a friend then not at all. He loved talking to you, hearing your thoughts on life and the way you perceived the world. 

When you first began talking, your world seemed dim, as if you filtered the world in only shades of grey. But the more you spoke and the longer things went on, the more Namjoon noticed you opened up, color began to flood into your world again in soft tones and smiles. He adored it. 

“I just wish she’d let me help her.” Namjoon mumbled as he rubbed his eyes, “I hate seeing her cry, and I hate seeing her push me away, and it would be one thing if she didn’t like me, but you want to know the worst part Seokjin?” 

Hurt quivered in his veins as he sat up, glaring down at the ground as he felt a bitter smile twist on his lips, “I can tell she does, why else would she want to talk to me after everything that’s happened? So why won’t she let herself just…! It’s so frustarting!” 

Seokjin sighed, unable to help but feel a little bad for him, it was obvious somewhere down the line friendship and something more had become blurred, “I know man,” Seokjin consoled, “Just give it time. She’ll come around when she’s ready.

Three weeks. 

That’s how long Namjoon had spent sulking, lectures he once listened to eagerly had become background noise, flavors seemed less vibrant and nothing was the same without you. By the sixteenth day mark he had almost given up, feeling despondent, he had stopped by the shop a few times only for Jungkook to shake his head in apology. 

That was until today. Namjoon’s eyebrows shot up and his heartbeat felt like it was going to burst out of his chest, “Ah...well, we can go after I get off shift, if that’s okay?” Jungkook offered a small smile, happy to see his Hyung looking a little more upbeat then he had before. It was truly a sad sight not only seeing Namjoon but you look like kicked puppies the past few weeks. 

“Yes! Yeah that’ll work…! Jungkook, thank you so much, you- you have no idea how much this means to me…!” Namjoon fumbled over his words, his smile bright and lit up, excited to see you again even if it was to just apologize over and over again. 

Jungkook smiled a little as he shrugged, “I haven’t done anything, Noona is doing a lot better and she asked when I visited yesterday if you could come.”

Namjoon nodded taking in his information before pausing….visited? As in, at her house? He didn’t quite understand but regardless he was glad to hear you didn’t hate him, or at the very least you still wanted to talk to him. Namjoon would take almost anything you handed him now. Some may find it sad but he was desperate, for closure at least.

Sitting down on your bed you hummed, letting your fingers drag against the pages of the book you had been reading during quiet time for the past two weeks, Jimin and Jungkook visited you nearly every day for visitor hour but when you got the chance you’d try to read, like now. 

Perhaps you were just trying to calm your nerves, you had asked Jungkook yesterday if you could see Namjoon...the past month had been...long...filled with tears and exhausting nights. You hated group therapy and the nurses constantly battled you when it came to any sort of physical activities. But as the weeks went on you reluctantly began to open up more, particularly during your singular therapy sessions, which helped the most. 

‘Tell me Y/n, you said earlier that Taehyung was the most and loving man you ever met,’ you nodded at her words as she spoke, ‘And you have also said that you can’t allow yourself to fall in love because you’d of your fear of forgetting him.’

You looked at your lap as you didn’t comment, unable too, it felt good...to be able to just spill everything to someone who was listening objectively, your therapist wasn’t looking at you like a kicked puppy, her eyes weren’t dripping with pity, she simply was listening, ‘Yeah…’ you mumbled as you folded your hands together. 

“Have you ever considered that, if Taehyung is truly as lovely as you describe him to be, that he’d genuinely want you to move on? That he would always want you to be happy? If he’s as kind as you say. Acceptance is never easy Y/n, especially when you’re grieving the love of your life.” 

You hung your head as you felt your eyes water, a sniffle escaping you as she pushes the tissue box over to you as she gave a gentle smile, “But Taehyung would want you to be happy. I want us to target why you feel this guilt every time you try to open up to Namjoon,” She clicked her pen, “You’ve said in the past, you feel guilty because you feel as though Taehyung is judging you, but in reality Y/n, the only person who is judging you, is yourself. The only person who is stopping you from receiving this love, is you.” 

Grabbing a tissue you wiped your eyes as you sniffled while shaking your head, unable to speak no matter how much you wanted too as she continued, “These things you’re talking about are symptoms of depression, the guilt you feel is your superego saying you don’t deserve to be loved because you would be betraying someone who is no longer here. This doesn’t make your feelings invalid, but,” She clacked her tongue, “I’d like us to work together to rein in the superego and get back to the root of your consciousness. On your own time, I’d like you to have Namjoon pay a visit and talk with him, but in the moments of doubt, when you’re mind is telling you to pull away or that you don’t deserve something, I want you to consciously and actively tell yourself that it’s okay to love again. It’s okay to move on, it’s okay to let someone else in’

‘What if I’m not ready to face him?” You sniffled, somewhat horrified at the idea of seeing Namjoon again, how could you ever face him after something so embarrassing? 

‘You’ll never fully be ready to face someone Y/n,” She replied, ‘But the first step to letting go, in your case, is telling yourself, that it’s okay to be loved again. It’s okay that you’re exploring love again. The only way to accept your feelings and your loss is by moving on. Let yourself open up to Namjoon, tell him the reason your like this and it will make you feel a lot better.’

You weren’t sure if you were ready to see Namjoon but...you felt guilty, guilty for lashing out at him when he didn’t deserve anything and...your fist curled as you inhaled sharply ‘it’s okay to love again’ that’s what your therapist told you and told you to repeat to yourself anytime you were flooded with any feelings of guilt. 

Leaning against the wall your fingers dragged along the line of words, trying to read but your mind wouldn’t focus. Jungkook would be here soon with Namjoon, your roommate, a young eighteen year old girl was out in the dining area with her boyfriend right now. She had been emitted by her parents due to her depression but she told you the only time she felt excitement was at six o’clock every day, knowing he’d be here. 

Love really could heal, couldn’t it? 

The knock on your door made you jump, the nurse Kang Min Soo opened the door, she was the one who shuffled you from activity to activity during the day, offering a small smile she said, “You have visitors Y/n.” Straightened a little you nodded as she opened the door, your heart beating wildly in your chest as your eyes first met with Jungkook who offered a gentle smile, the taller figure of Namjoon behind him, eyes curiously searching his surroundings before meeting yours. 

Unable to hold his gaze you dropped it to your book, closing it as you set it on the bed, “Hey guys…” You mumbled, feeling a little shy as you shifted a little. 

“I know you wanted to talk,” Jungkook hummed, looking a little brighter today then he had within the past weeks, “So I’ll give you both a few minutes. Jimin should be here in about fifteen minutes.” You nodded, murmuring a thank you as he nodded, offering a smile to the both of you before he exited, shutting the door. 

It was quiet for a few seconds as you curled your knees into your chest, “...I’m really sorry…” You mumbled, feeling somewhat pathetic at being unable to even meet his gaze, Namjoon was still quiet and you weren’t sure if that was a good sign or not, “...I know I haven’t been the most transparent…” 

The bed shifted a little as you glanced up meekly to see Namjoon sit down a good distance from you, looking a little careful in his expression before he suddenly blurted out, “There’s another guy...isn’t there?” He looked sullied all of a sudden, casting his expression on the ground, “You don’t have to tell me. It’s obvious you’re in love with someone else.” 

“He’s dead.” 

Namjoon’s gaze up shot so fast he could hardly process your words, his lips parting as he searched your broken expression, eyes watering as you laughed a little, a smile tugging on your lips as you continued, “Namjoon- I loved him, so much.” You glanced up at him sincerely as the tears trickled down your cheeks, the smile looked so bright yet so sad as you sniffed, “He was my soulmate.” 

Closing your eyes you rubbed them as the wet substance stained your skin, “I’ll never forget that night. It was so stupid. Taehyung- he- he had worked overtime that day and got off shift late. Kept texting me saying how excited he was to get home and eat what I had made.” Your soft gaze became a fiery glare as you mumbled, “But by eleven he wasn’t home...and I waited...and waited...and then I began to get worried. It wasn’t until 11:30 that I got a call.” 

Squeezing your eyes shut you forced a laugh, “It was an accident, a stupid fucking accident. Neither made it. The car pulled out too soon without enough time for him to stop, the car ended up flipped and they rushed him to the hospital, by the time I got there they had to rush him into surgery.” 

It was quiet for a moment as tears streamed down your face, covering your sob with your mouth as you shook your head, “Three hours and I never even got to say goodbye. Jimin was against the wall in tears and I don’t even remember what the doctor told me. Just saw a glance of his body in the hospital bed before the door shut…. Sometimes I still wonder, if I had just told him to not worry about the extra hours, if he’d still be here. He would’ve listened, he’d do anything to make me happy…” Pressing your hands against your eyes you bit your lip to keep down the sob as you muttered, “But it doesn’t matter now, he’s gone…” Wiping your tears away you took a shaky breath, “I’ve been in denial, not wanting to accept reality for what it is. That he’s gone...that he’s...dead...that he isn’t coming back. When I kissed you,” You felt new tears already welling in your eyes as you lowered your head in shame, “You made me feel better, and I loved that feeling so much. But all I could imagine was him. It’s not your fault...you don’t deserve to be dragged along because of me.” 

“Hey…” You covered your face as you felt arms wrap around you pulling you into a hug, you couldn’t help but crave the warmth of Namjoon, his steady heartbeat of still being alive, did it make you a sinner to crave his touch? “I...I’m so sorry Y/n, I had no idea...that was what you were going through.” He squeezed his arms around you as you curled against him, too weak to try and fight what you wanted so badly, “But I’m not going to leave you just because of this.”

Covering your eyes you tried to stifle your sob, guilt eating away at you at the idea of leading Namjoon on, he deserved to be loved by someone who could give him their all. 

You couldn’t. 

“Don’t cry,” Namjoon’s lips coiled endearingly, those dimples poking out as he tenderly stroked a hand through your hair soothingly, “We’ll get through this, and we can go as slow as you want. But I’m not going to leave you. Not now, not ever. Okay?” 

He leaned down, pressing a kiss against your forehead as you closed your eyes, tears trickling down your face as you tried your best to push the toxic thoughts that invaded your mind away. Taehyung would want this, wouldn’t he? Right? Remembering what your therapist said you repeated the words mentally, it was okay to be loved again. It was okay to move on.

“Are you sure you really wanna try this?” You sniffed, rubbing the tears from your eyes as you looked up at him, lips quivering as you tried to smile, your mouth faltering as you choked out, “I’m a girl with a whole lot of baggage Namjoon.” 

Namjoon let his hands cup your cheeks, his thumbs pushing away the tears as he gave you a soft reassuring smile, “We’ll get past this, okay? You’ll always be worth the wait.” He closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours. You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, closing your eyes as you felt the small smile tug on your lips. 

Maybe...maybe you could get past this.

You had spent another two weeks at the mental institute before you had felt good enough to sign yourself out and try to pick up your life where you left off, the past month had been...interesting to say the least. Namjoon, much like Jungkook and Jimin, visited you every day. 

Some days were good...others were not so much...But if you learned anything in therapy was to take things a step at a time. Your therapist thought it was wonderful that you had developed feelings for Namjoon, even if it didn’t feel that way. But she had encouraged you saying that it was a sign your heart was ready to move on and heal. 

“I’m so glad you’re back Noona!”

Right now however, you were trying to push Jungkook’s large figure away from you, damn why does this kid have to be so strong? Jungkook was practically like a little boy, running around in excitement when he saw you were put back on your work schedule and has since hugged you for three minutes straight when you walked in, “Jungkook we saw each other Friday.” You complained. 

“Yeah but…! You were in ugly scrubs yesterday and your hair was really greasy,” Jungkook gave you a sheepish grin as you glared at him before pushing him away as he whined, “Besides! It’s your first day back at work!” He clapped his hands, “And you look a lot better! Not as tired anymore, did you sleep well?” 

You sighed as you finished tying your apron, unable to stop the small smile tugging on your lips, Jungkook used to be a lot more reserved in what questions he asked, but having since visited you every day it seems those barriers have long past melted, “Yes, I’ve been sleeping a lot better, but it’s probably because of the medicine I’ve been prescribed to help.” Your smile felt a little weak, but regardless, at least you were sleeping. 

And truthfully, you did feel somewhat, renewed. Like you were no longer strapped to a heavy weight and sinking to the bottom of the ocean. You weren’t sure how to describe it, but you felt lighter these days. Of course you wouldn’t deny how much your being still ached for the man you once loved. You still saw Taehyung in the colors that painted the walls, in the sea you always drove past on your way to work.

But everything seemed so far away now, as if the life you had with Taehyung was just a fuzzy dream. Sometimes late at night you wondered if it was real at all. Yesterday had been painful no doubt, when you arrived home the first thing you did was throw away all of Taehyung’s old clothes you had been keeping. Even his old favorite shirt you always wore to bed. Just the memory almost made your eyes well with tears but you contained yourself. 

Clothes were just clothes, and they wouldn’t make Taehyung come back, would they? 

“Well at least the medicine is helping Noona, sleep is sleep you can’t be picky.” Jungkook was buzzing in happiness before his eyes darted to the girl who was standing at the cash register ready to order, flitting over he began to take her order as you peered from behind. Snorting at the way she flirtatiously smiled and Jungkook fumbled, ears going red as he looked away and rang up her order.

You couldn’t help but smile as you began working on her flat white, “She likes you.” You stated as Jungkook leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as you began to laugh, watching the way his cheeks lit up like little tomatoes. 

“So!? I’m not interested in her.” He mumbled defensively as you clacked your tongue, shaking your head as you set her coffee down at the end of the counter. Of course cupid only liked playing in your love life. As if the universe heard your thoughts the doorbell chimed as your gaze shot up. Two all too familiar figures walked in, well the other bounced in excitement, “Hey guys! It’s good to see you back Y/n! How have you been?” Hoseok practically flew to the counter in excitement. Given his words you doubt he knew what you had been up too but you appreciated the sentiment regardless, offering a small smile as you shrugged, “Just needed a break to clear my head. I’m doing good. Word is you finally bagged someone.” 

Hoseok’s lips parted before he prominently closed them, his cheeks looking red before the door to the back suddenly opened, Yoongi looking around before Hoseok flailed a little, “What!? W-who told you that…?” You looked between them as you raised your brows, unable to keep the smile off your face. 

“Awh, gay is okay guys. You don’t have to be shy.” You could hear Jungkook trying to cover his snort as he turned away to grab the convenient tray of pastries from Yoongi who suddenly looked perturbed and embarrassed, his ears were red as he mumbled something before quickly pushing back into the back room. Hoseok puckering his lips before he caved, a bright smile on his lips as he leaned over, “Hey…you mind if I go back there?” You snorted as you waved your hand. 

“Knock yourself out. Just don’t cum all over the stove.” “Y/n!” “Sorry!” 

You laughed as Hoseok sped around the counter and bolted into the backroom as you shook your head. At least some things changed for the better over the month you had been gone. Shaking your head you hummed, “Someone looks like they’re in a good mood.” His words made your lips tug into a smile as you turned to face Namjoon who had been passively watching the whole situation unfold.

“You don’t know how long I’ve watched them pine for one another,” You replied, looking down as you wiped down the counter to try and keep your gaze from meeting his, it was weird, this warm burning sensation that tickled your insides, it almost felt like butterflies, “It’s nice to see them finally admit it. So are you just here to watch the gays or are you gonna order something?” You looked up, a weird half smile quirked on your lips and you probably looked stupid. 

Namjoon leaned down against the counter as he shrugged, a smile on his lips and those pretty dimples on display, “What should I get?” 

These feelings, constantly repeating to yourself that they were okay, it was all so new. It was hard not to get flustered at his innocent words as you turned to look at the menu before shrugging, “Well you like tea, what about Tropic Blossom? It’s main notes are orange blossom and hibiscus so it’s naturally sweet unless you want stevia in it?” You turned back to face him only to awkwardly look away, feeling your face begin to burn at the way he was looking at you. 

It wasn’t provocative or anything sensual, but his eyes were lit up in a warm glow and his lips were constantly curved upwards in a smile, “Sure, with a chocolate scone too! Hey do you think you could convince Yoongi to make blueberry scones?” 

You rang up Namjoon as you snorted, curving a brow with an amused look before replying, “You could’ve got one back in spring if you had just come with Hoseok earlier. He doesn’t take requests though so no.” 

“Not even for me? Come on, you could convince him.” Namjoon leaned in a little, his lips quirking into a smirk as he hummed, “Just once.” You turned away from him as you tried to ignore the way your face burned. Jungkook had a shit eating grin on his face as he minded his own business, or at least he pretended to as he began making the Tropic Blossom. 

“Just once Noona?” He couldn’t help himself as he gave you patronizing puppy eyes as you glared at him before he snickered, you shoved his shoulder though he hardly budged as you huffed. 

“I will, in the spring.” You clacked your tongue as you tried to control the smile that tugged on your lips as you leaned down as you pulled out the scone, placing it on the plate as you set up the napkin, “Until then you’re just gonna have to live with chocolate.” You stood up, looking up at his figure as you felt a smile tug on your lips once more as you handed him his plate.

“Can I take you somewhere tonight?” 

Your eyebrows shot up at his abrupt words, Jungkook set his tea down as he immediately spoke for you, “She’d love to- Ow!” You jammed your elbow into his rib as he squeaked, suddenly looking at you with sullied eyes like a kicked puppy as he trailed back to the register where a small line had formed.

Take you somewhere…? Like a date…? You weren’t sure if that’s what he meant but...you felt a little at war with yourself, you knew you should be excited but, “Only if you want to,” Namjoon could immediately sense the shift in your demeanor, offering a small smile, “Remember what I said? We can take this at your pace.” 

Well...he was right, you could always head home early if things took an odd turn or...the guilt had faded but you couldn’t help but feel like you were doing something wrong, mustering a smile you nodded, “It’s fine! I get off work at seven though…” 

“Perfect! It’s nothing special,” Namjoon’s smile brightened as he held his cup up, “I’ll see you after work then…” He tipped his drink to you as he gave it a sip, the doors to the backroom suddenly swinging up as you whirled around. 

“What did I say Hoseok?” You couldn’t help the amusement you felt at the sight of Hoseok’s ruffled hair and the suspicious bruises on his neck that were absolutely hickies, he sent you a semi embarrassed and unappreciative look as he replied, “Just get my sugar glaze pastry…”

You couldn’t stop the shit eating grin on your face as you and Jungkook exchanged looks before ringing him up, “And a cumin shot to go?” His glare was worth the joke. 

The rest of the day had come and gone, some hours slow and others fast, Jungkook and you would often go bug Yoongi when things were slow- well it was mainly Jungkook, but you were glad to be back. Things almost seemed...normal? 

Was this what life was really like before....you felt a small lump in your throat form. Before Taehyung? The ache in your heart was still there, but it was no longer the force that would always cause you to topple. Maybe this was the worst part of it all. 

The fact that the once beautiful life you had with Taehyung was over now. You felt a smile tug on your lips and your eyes gloss a little, but for the first time, it wasn’t out of sadness. But happiness, that at the very least, you had Taehyung in your life for as long as you did. Some things just weren’t meant to be. In this lifetime at least. 

Taking a deep breath you pulled yourself from your thoughts as you finished cleaning the counters, Jungkook had already finished taking out all the old pastries and Yoongi had finished cleaning up the back, “You ready to go Noona?” Jungkook called out as he untied his apron. 

“Yeah, gimme a second.” You called back as you tossed your rag into the sink, walking over to the coat rack as you untied your own apron. You glanced out the shop door to see a familiar figure standing out front waiting as you looked back down, suddenly feeling semi embarrassed. 

Jungkook and Yoongi were exchanging glances and you could tell on both of their faces they thought this was both endearing and hilarious, all it took was one glare from you to keep them both from spouting any kind of bullshit. 

Wrapping your jacket around yourself you snuggled up against the warm fabric that fought against the cold air as you walked outside, offering a meek smile to Namjoon who’s eyes lit up at the sight of you, “Hey…” You murmured, trying to calm your heart rate that spiked rapidly for no reason. 

Keeping his hands inside his coat pocket Namjoon greeted you with a brighter smile, “Hey, are you ready to go?” You gave a small nod as you began walking beside him. The sun setting and the air was getting colder at night these days, soon autumn would be here and color would flourish in all the trees. 

Warily, you couldn’t help but feel a small part of yourself that was…looking forward to autumn. It was always a welcomed time of year for you, when cinnamon was strong in the air and you could bake anything with apples in it. Bundling up next to a small campfire and the only time you could wear flannel without feeling self conscious. 

“Where are we going?” You asked softly as you glanced up at Namjoon who peered down at you with a small playful smile, as if he wasn’t going to answer, but he thought it was cute you’d ask regardless. 

“Somewhere.” Namjoon’s smile became bigger as he watched the pout quirk on your lips as you hummed, looking back out at the darkening sky, “It’s nothing special, just something I like doing when I have the next day off.” You tilted your head in curiosity as to where he was taking you. 

You only felt more confused when you stood at the gates of the park, turning to look at Namjoon as you felt a smile curl on your lips, unsure of what to make of this, “Not even a hint?” 

“Well,” Namjoon drawled, pressing his lips together briefly in thought before smiling once more, “We’ll be sitting down. I can’t say anything without giving it away.” 

Sitting down? There was a playground here, would you be sitting on the swings? You hadn’t done that in a long time, but much to your surprise Namjoon walked right past only for your eyes to set on a blanket that looked to already be spread out and a...telescope? Namjoon sat down as he gestured at you with a laugh, “What’s with that expression?” 

“Nothing!” You hurriedly replied, sitting down on the other side of the blanket, “I just…” You looked around before looking up at the sky, lips parting a little only to notice the dark sky blanketed with bright stars, “Didn’t expect this…” You murmured as your eyes darted from star to star, it was a clear night, perfect for stargazing, how long had it been since you even looked up? 

Had you truly forgotten the stars existed before this moment? 

Namjoon’s expression was warm as he gestured you over, “They look even better up close, you can see Pisces from here.” Leaning down you peeped through the lense as Namjoon guided the telescope as you let out a little gasp, “Oh! I think I see it!” You zoomed the lense out a little bit as you pressed your lips together, “Wait, I don’t think that’s it.” 

You had never been good with astronomy but...something about Namjoon laughing softly as you straightened up, something about the way he passionately pointed to each constellation, the way the deep midnight sky melted between the flicks of white that all seemed so...alive…

You really liked this.

You must’ve spent the whole night, looking at the stars laying down, talking about whatever came to mind, you couldn’t take your eyes off the sky for hardly a second. It truly was beautiful. 

“Hey, Y/n.” You hummed as Namjoon spoke up softly, “Do mind, if I ask...about him…” You stiffened a little, your dreamy gaze snapping to Namjoon, more awake now then you had been all evening. 

As if noticing the semi spooked expression Namjoon quickly added, “Only if you’re up to it...I’m sure it isn’t easy to talk about it...But I just…” He seemed a little self conscious as his eyes flickered back to the sky, “I just wanted to know about him, what he was like, what did you do together.” 

You felt a weak smile tug on your lips before closing your eyes, the night sky was no longer in your vision, but it was the warmth of your old home, the apartment you shared with Taehyung, his face which you hadn’t seen in so long was so clear, “He was…” You trailed off for a second before you felt your eyes water as a smile tugged on your lips, “Childish,” You laughed, memories of his pouty expression whenever you reprimanded him, “Playful definitely…” You sniffed as you wiped your eyes, the way he’d smirk and grab you by the waist, murmuring less than appropriate things in your ear, “God he was…” Opening your eyes you laughed again while shaking your head, “Everything I could’ve ever wanted. He made me see colors that don’t exist, noise became music, clouds weren’t just particles anymore,” Tears trickled down your face as you smiled, looking up at the stars, “He told me they were god’s canvas that he painted on every day. Taehyung, he saw beauty in everything.”

You paused as your smile slowly faded, closing your eyes as the pain washed over you, the dull ache in your heart returned as you rubbed your eyes of the tears you had shed, “It’s just…” You felt pathetic, still crying, still missing what once was, “Hard to believe it’s all over, y’know?” 

You felt fingers tug at your hair before gently combing through as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle down the sobs that bubbled in your throat, “He sounds like a one of a kind.” Namjoon offered a small smile as you turned to face him, rubbing the warm tears from your face as you felt a smile tug on your lips. 

“He was terrible! He’d start singing trot off tune and he always made such a fucking mess in the kitchen without cleaning it up!” Memories flashed by in your mind, flour all over the floor and Taehyung's voice low and raspy as he’d cough while trying to sing, the large boxy smile he’d give when you’d wake up to breakfast already made, “And he always left his clothes all over the floor because he never did laundry because he knew i’d do it for him if he waited long enough.” 

“Oh? And how bad were the road trips?” Namjoon’s lips were tugged in a soft smile, laying on his side to look at you as his fingers tangled against your roots. 

“Don’t even get me started,” You both laughed as continued, “Jazz was always a must and it was so boring to listen to for five hours straight and he always bought too many snacks! We went camping one time and...god!” You let out a breathy laugh, “Never again, we forgot to bring bug repellent in the middle of the most humid time of the year and apparently there was like this- retreat? For nudists at the campgrounds at the time and they kept coming over asking if we wanted to take LSD with them and it ended up raining the whole time!” 

Namjoon was snorting out a laugh, humored as he asked, “What did you guys do? I don’t think I can imagine my camping neighbors as nudists.” 

“We had rented out this shitty old camper van so we could keep all of our supplies in the back but, after a long day of being miserable and arguing half the time we packed up and intended on leaving,” You closed your eyes as your fingers traced against the soft blanket, “But when we were driving back we ended up taking a wrong turn and found a cliff side camping spot that was just gorgeous. So we ended up clearing out the back of the van and setting up a ton of blankets and pillows and we enjoyed the view.” 

You could still feel the hard car floorboard against your body with just a few blankets for comfort, curled up against Taehyung with his arms wrapped around you looked out over the valley, that awful weekend ended up being one of your favorite memories, “We turned off our phones, worked through our problems, shared laughs and ate those stupid hostess powdered donuts, and he said it. That first I love you.” 

Tears dripped down your face as you forced yourself to pause, you hated doing this to Namjoon, who obviously held back saying those same words, why was he even doing this to himself? He couldn’t have actually wanted to hear about him. You could see the way his heart always crumbled with every tear you cried, “I miss him so much. I’m sorry.” You whispered in overwhelm, memories you had forgotten resurfacing and you pressed your hands into your face. 

“Shhh,” You were pulled against Namjoon, his arms comfortingly wrapped around you as he held you close, “It’s okay to miss him.” 

-----

“I’m gonna hurt the roots if I just rip it out!” 

You curved a brow as you snorted, Namjoon looked utterly distressed as he attempted to repot his newest set of flowers, mums in shades of deep burnt orange and burgundy, perfect for autumn, “The roots are overgrown!” You argued, “We’re gonna have to cut them down to put less stress on the plants for the love of god just listen to me!” 

You pushed the powdered donut into your mouth before sitting down with him on the wooden picnic table, “Who’s the expert here?” 

“You.” Namjoon unenthusiastically hmphed as he rolled his eyes, but curiously peered down at your hands that pushed down through the soil, carefully extracting the small square of mums as you swallowed the large clump of donut, “Alright we gotta clip these before you can repot them, it’ll promote more growth and they won’t die as quick.” 

“It just seems…” Namjoon watched warily as you clipped the roots with zero hesitation, “...Counter intuitive. Isn’t this like ripping out their lungs?” 

You snorted again, turning to look at him as you pouted animatedly, “Awh you think plants feel? I mean if you wanna get that graphic it’s more like...shaving their lungs…” You watched Namjoon’s nose crinkle in dismay as you laughed, “Seriously though, they won’t get as much nourishment from the soil if you just keep this big ass clump. Root pruning is kind of essential when you’re repotting store bought plants.” 

“Alright but if my flowers die-” 

“Which they won't.” You handed him the pruners as you gave him a cheeky smile, “Well go on, they won’t trim themselves.” You grabbed the bag of mini donuts before plopping another into your mouth, as you inhaled sharply. It was such a beautiful day out, the sun was shining and clouds big and fluffy. 

It was the perfect day to be outside, which is why you were sitting on the picnic table that was one of many sitting outside behind your apartment building. Things with Namjoon have been...good...they’ve been great. It’s been nearly a month of consistently seeing one another, hanging out. 

The pain is still there but, it’s gradually faded with time, you still go see your therapist once a week to talk over things in hopes of not pouring too much out onto Namjoon who was always so patient and kind. You frequented the park at night with him to stargaze and planting and taking care of any greenery had become a thing with you both.

You weren’t sure what it was but, being able to be open and honest about your past relationship with Taehyung, being able to talk about your adventures together, the things you loved and annoyed you about him. Somehow having Namjoon earnestly listen to it all brought you closer to him. You felt safe with him, like he’d wipe your every tear away. 

You really didn’t deserve him. 

Your fists curled in frustration having not caught the words in your mind. Your therapist had been really getting on you as of late to try and redirect your thoughts to more positive affirmations anytime you mentally said you didn’t deserve him. Like...you deserved to have his kindness in your life. 

You could even step into the art museum now without much fear, only because Namjoon loved art and he often contemplated his love of philosophy alongside it. You really were thankful for him. But you couldn’t help but notice something lingering…something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

“So I was thinking.” Namjoon hummed, his eyes purposely looking down at the soil that crumbled beneath his fingers as he pruned the roots carefully, “Why not attend that gala tonight? For Modernism?” 

You tilted your head as you shoved another donut in your mouth, “Gala?” Your voice was muffled as you chewed before swallowing, “I thought you said it was stupid because they should’ve chosen to represent Baroque?” He had done things like this in the past before, it would be one thing if you were an art person and he was doing it for you, but you weren’t. 

 Namjoon looked a little apprehensive as he shrugged, gaining your attention more as his eyes stayed on the mums, “Well...I know you both used to like doing...you know, things like that…” He mumbled, making your mouth fall open. Oh...oh no…! You were afraid of something like this happening. 

“Namjoon,” Your lips tugged into a pout, your voice gaining his attention as he peeked up a little, obviously embarrassed when he shouldn’t be, grabbing the plant from him tenderly you set it into the pot before grabbing his soil covered hands, his eyes anywhere but yours, “Those were things me and him liked to do Namjoon…” 

“I- I just…” Namjoon fumbled a little, “I know you miss doing those things so…” 

Your expression twisted sadly, had you said too much to him about Taehyung? You didn’t want Namjoon to feel insecure about your relationship...not that you were together but...things were obviously headed in that direction, weren’t they?

“I don’t miss doing those things Namjoon, I miss it because it was with him,” You watched the way he frowned, his shoulder’s slumping as he stared down at the table, “And you aren’t him. And I don’t want you to be him,” His gaze suddenly shot up to your expression that hardened, “Namjoon I don’t want to live in the past trying to make old memories new again when we already have something. I wanna create new memories that are just as happy,” You felt a little shy as you looked away, “With you, and with the things we like to do together. So don’t worry about it, let’s just stick with a plans to go to the park tonight, besides didn’t you say a meteor shower was happening,” 

You were casual in your words, trying to play off your heartfelt confession on not wanting him to compare himself to your old lover, that wasn’t the kind of relationship you wanted and it wouldn't be Namjoon if he did things the way Taehyung did. They were two very different men with similar hobbies but for vastly different reasons, but you’d always love them both. 

Wait…

“Draconids, but it’ll be a boring show. They say there’s only five meteors an hour” Namjoon smiled, his chin resting against his arm as he gave you a dopey smile making you laugh as you shook your head. His fingers playing with yours as you replied, “I’d rather be there then at a stuffy art gala.” 

“Noona! Hyung! Oh did we interrupt?” 

You clacked your tongue in annoyance as your hand, still intertwined with Namjoon’s dropped to table to see both Jungkook and Jimin waving, “No you didn’t, asshole!” You added as you yelled back, watching both Jimin and Jungkook belt out with laughter as a smile tugged on your lips. 

It was originally planned as just a lunch outside but you and Namjoon had made more plans on top of that. 

Jimin waved the bag of takeout he had gotten for everyone as they both sat down, grabbing the towel that was laid out Namjoon wiped his hands along yours as he groaned, “Ah I’m starving, why did it take you guys so long?” 

“No reason,” Jungkook hummed, sounding oddly...content…? Your furrowed your brows as you looked between them both, Jimin’s eyes immediately shooting down to the bag of food as he coughed loudly, “Here’s your kebabs you wanted.” 

You ignored whatever subtext was lingering in the air at the sight of you lamb kebabs, hands immediately sticking out with a smile, “Thank you!” When was the last time you had enjoyed food like this? 

You could feel the warm rays of sunshine on your face and the cool breeze that passed over your body occasionally, was this what it was like to feel again? It was hard to keep Namjoon’s bright gaze that looked more and more like love these days, the way he’d just stare at you with that small smile and those dimples of his. You supposed, these days, maybe you really could fall in love with someone else. 

And after all...that’s what Taehyung would want, wouldn’t it? Something continuously held you back though and...suddenly everything became so clear, you knew exactly what you needed to do. And you knew you didn’t need to do it alone. Watching Jungkook and Jimin bid their farewell after lunch your throat became dry as your heartbeat became faster. 

“Namjoon,” You asked before you convinced yourself maybe this wasn’t as good of an idea as you thought it was. 

He hummed, turning to face you, that bright smile on his lips again as he listened endearingly, somehow making it harder to speak and had the sun always been this hot? “...Would you mind going with me...to visit him?” 

Namjoon’s pupils widened a little and his lips parted as if not expecting those words, he sincerely took a moment to ponder them and you appreciated more then if had unwillingly said yes, after a moment he gave you another reassuring smile as he grabbed your hands, “Of course Y/n.” You felt relieved as you gave a small smile in return, you knew exactly what you needed to do. 

It wasn’t until the evening that you went to the flower shop, grabbing a small bouquet of tiger lilies before walking towards the cemetery, Namjoon doing a double take when you shyly grabbed his hand. Touches were innocent still, hand holding still new and it was admittedly welcomed. 

The sunset was vivid today and it seemed just like yesterday you had rejected Namjoon’s offer for lunch in turn to come here, had that really been three months ago? You looked up at his figure that was looking ahead as a smile tugged on your lips. 

The cemetery looked as it always did, serene, carefully walking in the passage ways and making sure to not step onto any graves you paused at the willow tree. Your heart still squeezed as you glanced down. 

Kim Taehyung 

1995 - 2018

‘For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream’

Sitting down you pulled out the rag you had packed, gently wiping off his gravestone as your eyes waters, a soft smile tugging on your lips as your fingers traced against the engraved name, “Oh there’s so many things I wish I could tell you Tae.” You murmured softly, closing your eyes as the tears slid down, the smile still on your face as you sat back, placing the flowers down as an arm comfortingly wrapped around you. 

Sniffing you wiped your eyes as you leaned against Namjoon, your head resting against his shoulder as you closed your eyes, “I’ve struggled for so long to let you go. To let myself be okay with letting you go.” You could imagine Taehyung’s face, his dark locks of hair covering his eyebrows and his soft smile, hands cupping your cheeks, “And I’ll always love you. But I know you wouldn’t want me to go on the way I had been…So I’ve come here to say goodbye I suppose.” 

There was an ache in your jaw and your heart throbbed with that familiar dull ache, Namjoon’s head laying on top of yours as he pressed a kiss against your hair, “You’ll always be with me, and I’ll always cherish the time I had with you. But it’s time that I let myself be happy again. I know you understand. So thank you for...everything. And leading me to the person I belong with now.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the tears trickled down your cheeks, pressing into Namjoon’s shoulder, even despite your tears you felt, at peace? As if this was meant to be, accepting things for what they were, and that no, you weren’t completely over Taehyung, but this was a good start to letting him go fully. 

Namjoon wrapped his arms around you as you sniffled, scooting against him as you curled up against the warmth he radiated, “I promise I’ll take care of her,” He spoke softly, a gentle smile on his lips as he looked down at your curled up figure, knowing this couldn’t be easy for you to do, “I know we never met, but thank you for making her happy. And I’ll continue to do the same.” He pressed another kiss against your head as he rested his head a top of yours once more. 

Sniffles escaped you as the wind blew through the trees, a soft rustle being the only noise outside your tears as the willow tree swayed in contentment. And if you really wanted to reach, maybe this was Taehyung’s spirit giving his blessing.

For the first time, leaving the cemetery was like a breath of relief, it was as if you had learned to walk on your own for the first time in a very long time. The sun had already set and hand in hand with Namjoon you both walked to the park where you set out the blanket as the moon rose. 

“Thanks by the way,” You turned to face Namjoon in confusion as he offered a small shy smile, “For taking me to visit him today. I know it wasn’t easy to do.” Your heart felt like it was doing little backflips as you crawled out to snuggle up against him, for the first time, craving his touch against you. 

“Of course, but I’m ready to focus on us.” You still felt a little shy yourself but you wanted more than anything to get to know Namjoon, he knew everything there was to know about you by now in terms of your past relationship. There was an unquenchable inferno inside you that wanted to know everything you could about this man. 

Laying down curled up against him Namjoon let his fingers tenderly run against your hair as he whispered, “I’m okay with that.” Your heart for the first time felt content, warm and fuzzy, all the hurt and all the tears you had spent crying felt like just a distant memory in the arms of your lover now. 

Your eyes felt lost in the inky blue sky above the were speckles with stars that gleamed brightly, and there it was the first meteor that passed making you squeak in excitement, Namjoon smiled as he looked down at your expression that seemed so excited at the flashes of light that streaked across the sky. 

Glancing at the sky Namjoon was surprised at the next few meteors that passed, and a few more before they came in dozens and dozens and soon the whole sky was lit up in light and the stars the seemed so muted before looked like gems that danced across the sky, light blues mixed with deepers shades of indigo and the streaks of white painted across the sky as he whispered, “This only happens once every few hundred years, where hundreds appear in the sky.” 

Namjoon couldn’t look at the rare sight in the sky though, not when he could look at your eyes that reflected the whole sky in them, all the stars that surfed in your gaze and your lips open in awe at the sight and for the first time in his life, he understood what that saying meant. 

‘For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream’

Namjoon would never leave your side for a single second, he pledged to himself, you’d both get through this together and you’d build a strong relationship. And he’d cherish you just as much as Kim Taehyung did, he’d devote his whole life to you if needed.” 

“Namjoon,” Your eyes looked dreamy while you turned to face him, he seemed distant as he stared at you as you gave a bashful smile, for the first time able to say what you always felt, “I love you.” 

#bts #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon angst #bts angst #namjoon imagine #taehyung angst #kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #im so sorry yall #this is sad as hell

[yostresswritinggirl]

Part 2 is here!!! This is actually all just fluff and nothing new regarding reader's seelie powers but ;)) Part 3 coming soon...maybe...

-It has been a week or two since the interaction and the both of you have been exchanging letters, due to the fact that you live in Qingce Village.

-You only went to Liyue Harbor for a bit as you had a few commissions and quests nearby there, it would have been a long trip back and forth from home. (He's glad that he met you but won't admit it out loud.)

-Now what surprised you was that he came to visit you, not because he had a job nearby but purely of his own accord. You felt a flutter in your , upon seeing him at your door.

-"... Chongyun?"

-A flush from his cheeks as he shifted onto his other leg.

-"...Hello."

-Happiness bubbled throughout your body. With a bright smile you ushered him into your humble abode. He looked at the scripts and maps on your walls, then glanced over to the collection of pressed flowers beside your small dining table.

-You poured him a cup of tea and placed a bowl of food in front of him. Cold noodles with soy sauce and some fresh greens on the side.

-"I-I really couldn't--" he tried to turn down the offer of food but the smile you gave him made him pick up his chopsticks.

-Mid-coversation, another knock came at the door. Raising an eyebrow, you went to see who could be looking for you.

-"[Y/N], sorry to trouble you at the moment but could you please get these to Granny Rouxin? I have to rush for a meeting with some customers."

-You nodded and closed the door to sit back down with Chongyun as to continue the conversation, it would also be quite rude if you were to leave a guest in your house but-- Granny Rouxin :(

-Almost as if he read your mind, he finished eating and set the dishes by the sink. You were about to protest and ask him to sit down but he grabbed your hand and led you out the door.

-"Let's go give the chief that package."

-Your heart skipped a beat as you looked at your hands. Walking up the trail and stairs, you arrived at the chief's residence. She opened a door with a smile and greeted you.

-"Ah, [Y/N]. Good to see you, I suppose you're here for delivery?"

-"Yes, here you go! Please continue to rest, don't worry about the village, we'll be fine. If anything happens please get Ju Hua to send a letter to me."

-The kind elderly lady had been ill for a few days now and the entirety of the village had urged her to rest, considering her age and her position. She had been taking it easy and not moving about too much, hopefully her fever would subside soon.

-"Thank you, you're always such a help around here. I'm grateful that you continue to stay here even though it's a quiet life," she sighs.

-It really was a shame that many of age had went to the city, leaving yougins and elderlies here. As much as you liked the city, the calmness of this village and its beautiful fields had captured your heart.

-"Of course, it really isn't anything, I love living here anyway!"

-Chongyun silently took note of what was going on in the conversation, feeling a small sense of pride and joy when he heard that you had been helping around in the village from THE chief.

-Wrinkled eyes smile as they slowly trail to the cryo user beside you, the warm hues turn into mischievous ones as she looks at your joined hands.

-"Thank you... Hmm, you didn't tell me you had a boyfriend?

-Immediately, the both of you separated with red faces. A chuckle escapes her throat as she waved the both of you off before returning to her bedroom.

-A moment or two passed as you both walked down the path, cryo tickling your skin as Chongyun desperately tried to calm himself down.

-A few kids came up to you with flowers and they babbled something about thanking you for helping them get their dolls back from the bad monsters before giggling and running off.

-Icy hues observed the situation and once again, he was reminded of how great a person you were. He knew from your letters that you liked to help out around the village but he didn't know it was to the extent that kids would come give you flowers.

-Warmth blossoms in his chest as he watches you smile at the kids. The way the wind blew your hair and how you gently pat the heads of the children made him smile like a fool.

-As you both continued to talk in your home, you failed to notice how late it was getting until the sounds of crickets chirping started. You asked Chongyun where he was staying and he was about to say something but nothing came out.

-"Ah...This is bad. I forgot that I didn't book a place to stay here..." (Because there were no inns (((:)

-'Archons, I'm so stupid' was probably what he was thinking at that moment.

-You tried to think of an idea but only one came to mind. Your palms sweated as you insisted that he stay with you in your house for the night. He tried to refuse but you were more adamant of not letting him sleep outside in the dangerous wilderness at night.

-With a huff, he accepted.

-One problem: The only place that was comfortable enough for sleep, (ie not the wooden chairs) was your bed. It's not like it was a tiny bed, but it was still flustering to be sharing the same bed! Especially since you're not dating like that or anything...! Even so, deep down you trusted Chongyun to not do anything.

-Jueyun Chili is the shade of red on your faces as you both lied down on the bed, you slowly turned over to meet his icy orbs looking at you before they averted away from your eyes.

-He was certainly free air-conditioning at the rate he was trying to cool hinself down. A soft laugh left your lips as you said goodnight before turning to face your back toward him.

-His heart stopped beating at a hundred miles per hour as he noticed that you were alseep. He, too was growing tired and closed his eyes to drift off into dreamland.

-Little did both of you know, that both of you would be awoken to the reality of your limbs tangled and arms wrapped around each other.

-あのん

Part 1

Oh gawd my heart dropped thinking I lost the link to the first part of this, I swear I need to fix my shit uo

#Seelie reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #anon あのん #exile.goblet

[angelicyoongie]

desolate (9)

— summary: you just wanted a cute little normal cat to keep you company. so, you're not really sure how you ended up with the grumpiest hybrid on earth that seems hellbent on making your life difficult.

— pairing: cat hybrid yoongi x human reader

— genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut

— word count: 5.2k

— tag list: @mrcleanheichou @ladymidnightt @cheese123344 @xanny91 @dinorahrodriguez @best-space-boy @dulcaet @moccahobi @keijaycreates @staytrillswag @xsmilebitesx @serendipityoreuphoria @jiminot7 @beyond-the-swag @nananaum1 @ditttiii @faithsummers11 @twomilkmen-gocomedy @theonewholovestoread @karissassirak @veryuniquenamegoeshere @yourlipssoirresistible @ayoo-bangtan @murderyoursoul @btsxdoll @see3milyblog @gukiyi @narcissism-iskey @sp3ak-yours3lf @cesthoney @imluckybitches @hd-junglebook @sugarrimajins @multifandomgirl29 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @bangtansleftnut @theresa-nam-nam-me @angeltothecore @ghostkat23 @deathkat657 @httpmedxsa @veronawrites @bubbletae7 @serious-addiction @chogiyeol-utopia @nomimits7​ @lorielulu7​ @1am9root6​ @sana-b​ @diamonddia-mond​ @jiminiessipabo​ @myhearttteu​ @rainbowmagicpixecorn​ @lidda​ @rosiethefairy​ @lovinggalaxies​ @midnight1199​ @trinityautumn​ @linniewritesficz​ @fearhoshi​ @juniesoftbot​ @kingalls00​ @toribug2020​ @daydreambrliever​ @sleepyje0n​ @yoonie-bby​ @honestlyfuriousharmony​ @itsoktheresbts​ @suzziequeuie​  @illnevertrustmyselfagain​ @annoyingpessimist​ @lovelikeyouwant​  @cigarettes-after-tears​ @kookie-vuitton​ @thefangirlsoul​ @lmna990​ @luvshorses08​ @nanananisstuff​ @marvelstuck​ @kissmeimwitchy​ @hxsxxk-180294​ @ratking101​  @shameless-army​ @yuukihime2097​ @heimdoodle​ @kissing-fear​ @toripeix​ @horanghae18​ @redperson58​ @awsome-small-k​ @salomea27​ @johnnystolemywig​ @adoorinyourheart @alltimeyoongi @miss–insanity @originalpersonawobblerduck @crazyxforxmyself @brittaney341 

Part one Part two Part three Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part ten (M) Part eleven Part twelve Part thirteen Part fourteen (M)

The man gulps loudly, his eyes flying over your face in the darkness. Your body is frozen stiff with terror, your brain short-circuiting as he takes another step forward.

“C-can I help you with anything?” The man stutters, his squeaky voice somehow matching his lanky appearance. He seems surprisingly nervous to find you here, but it’s not like that does much to soothe your fears. You grasp his desk behind your back, rooting yourself in the feeling of the cold wood beneath your palms.

“My computer died, I don’t know how to fix it,” You say, praying he doesn’t hear the slight tremor in your voice.

“But it can wait until tomorrow, sorry for bugging you!” You push off the desk with a strained smile, quickly maneuvering around him as you start walking towards the door with hurried steps.

“N-no wait, I can help you!” The loud footsteps rushing up behind you makes your shoulders shoot up to your ears with tension, your flight or fight response begging you to get out of there as fast as possible. But the man reaches your side before you can make a choice, his breath slightly labored from the sprint he just did across the room.

“Sure,” You wince as he walks past you, his long legs already carrying him up the stairs. You make sure to keep some space between you as you follow him. It feels a little ridiculous considering he hasn’t actually done anything bad, but you learned long ago that it’s important to trust your gut, and you still don’t have an explanation as to why he has your things.

The man abruptly stops as he reaches the first cluster of desks on your floor, letting you pass him by to lead him over to your computer. “It just turned off and won’t come back on,” You give yourself an internal round of applause for how steady your voice sounds, despite your heart feeling like it’s about to jump out of your chest.

He gives you a curt nod, eyes glued to your desk as he slides down into your chair. You step back to give him room, following his movements carefully as he opens up a panel to look inside the consol. You let your eyes wander slightly, just enough to realize how odd this guy really is.

His clothes don’t match up with the uniform the IT department normally wears, and his hair seems to be too long. You’re honestly surprised he has managed to keep it at that length; your boss would surely throw a fit if he ever noticed. Even if you pushed all of those things aside, he still has this air of something being a little off surrounding him, and it’s enough to keep you feeling alert.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts as your screen suddenly lights up, the man shifting in your chair to stand. As he rises, the soft blue hue illuminating your desk catches on a weird pattern on his neck. You inch forward to get a better look, but his hair falls back down to cover it before you can see it properly. It’s probably just a tattoo of some kind, but you feel like the pattern looks oddly familiar for some reason.

“Y-you should try logging in and see if it works,” Another wave of unease washes over you as he turns his attention back to you. You’re not even sure if you have seen him blink yet. Pushing it into the back of your mind, you take a seat in front of him, all too aware of his presence just behind your back.

You quickly type in your information, fingers flying over the keyboard with a speed you didn’t even know you possessed. It feels like hours have passed before the screen finally changes to your homepage, but your relief is short-lived as the program you had been working in tries booting up and failing, again and again.

“I-it’s overworked. Y-you just need to close it down and fill in new information one by one,” You stiffen as the man reaches over your shoulder for the mouse, his other hand tapping away on the keyboard as he forcibly quits the program. You hold your breath as you feel his chest against your shoulders, his face way too close to yours for comfort.

Your lungs are burning for air when he finally pulls back, your hands wrapped together tightly in your lap.

“I-it should be okay now,” He stammers out, eyes gliding over your form one last time before he scurries out of your sight.

You collapse against the back of your chair, running your fingers through your hair as you take some deep breaths. You can still feel the ghost of his body against your own, the lingering coldness he seemed to be radiating. Sure - it’s getting closer and closer to winter, but how can someone be so cold? It doesn’t seem humanly possible.

You quickly snatch up your belongings, only tearing your eyes away from the entrance of the floor to make sure you’ve got everything. The more you learn about him, the more suspicious he becomes. Obviously him taking some stationary, acting weird and being cold isn’t enough to tell your boss about, but you decide you’re definitely going to be keeping an eye on him. Something just doesn’t sit right with you.

You practically run out of the office, the brisk air doing little to calm your mind as you hurry home.

.

You take a step back in surprise as you’re hit with a wall of warmth as soon as you open the door to your apartment. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Yoongi has been cranking up the heating while you’re at work. You sigh as you remove your shoes and coat, the electricity bill just adding to your long list of problems. While you would love to not have to worry about things like this and just let Yoongi do whatever he wants – the reality is that you can’t. Not unless you want the both of you to end up on the street.

“Yoongi?” You call out as you put away your purse. You’ve grown so used to Yoongi practically waiting for you at your door, or at least coming out to greet you, that not seeing or hearing him at all is weird.

“M’here,” A muffled voice comes from your bedroom, the sound barely making it past the tiny crack between the door and the frame. As you push it open, you’re greeted with the sight of Yoongi swaddled up in all the blankets you own, his furry cat ears barely peeking out on top of them.

“Comfortable?” You grin teasingly as you make your way over to your closet, pulling out some cozy clothes to change into. You feel like a magician as you try to pull out a sweater without knocking over everything on top of it. You ended up moving some clothes around to free up some space for Yoongi, but your already tiny closet doesn’t seem to be too happy about the change considering it threatens to spew out all of your clothes whenever you try to grab something.

“It’s cold,” Yoongi grumbles in response, his narrowed eyes barely visible underneath the mountain of blankets he’s surrounded himself with.

“It hasn’t grown that cold just overnight Yoongi,” You gesture over to his form, but Yoongi just huffs in response. You suppose it’s probably just a hybrid thing. Maybe he’s just more susceptible to the cold than you are.

“I don’t mind you taking all the blankets, but you can’t turn the heating up so high. It’s ..” You grimace, voice trailing off as you see Yoongi’s ears start to flatten. He probably can’t help it if he’s cold, and asking him to turn the heat down might just be cruel if his internal temperature is suddenly so wonky. Maybe you can just pick up some extra work somewhere else during the winter months.

“It’s too expensive. I forgot, I’m sorry,” Yoongi finally pokes his head fully out of the covers, the corner of his lips tugging downwards as he looks at you apologetically.

“It’s okay. A little extra heat is fine, just not on the highest setting,” You’re about to exit the room when you see the little shiver than seems to run through Yoongi’s body, the cat hybrid closing his eyes momentarily as it passes.

“Are you sick?! Is that why you’re feeling cold?” You hurry over to the bed, carefully placing your hand on Yoongi’s forehead to feel for his temperature. You almost hiss in surprise as you touch his skin, he’s absolutely freezing in comparison to you.

You feel Yoongi’s body stiffen under your touch, his eyes snapping up to yours as you flip your hand around. You were hoping you might just have cold hands from being outside but no, his temperature is definitely way lower than it should be.

“Why do you smell like that?” Yoongi’s voice is tense as he leans forward, his nostrils flaring slightly as he inhales your scent.

“Like what?” You turn your head to sniff your sweater, already moving back from Yoongi in case you happen to smell bad. But a cold hand shoots out of the blankets to grab yours before you can step away fully, Yoongi pulling you back. You’re practically kneeling on the bed in front of the cat hybrid, one hand almost touching his chest from how close he’s pulled you in.

“You smell like someone else,” He hisses. And oh, the realization hits you just a little too late. The IT guy must have left his scent on you when he touched you earlier. You watch as Yoongi shakes off his blankets, his tail bristling up as soon as it’s free.

“Oh,” You say dumbly as Yoongi’s expression darkens. You can’t figure out why he seems so upset – you can’t imagine that this is the first time you’ve ever come home smelling like another person. You hug Jihyo all the time after all.

“Oh?” He echoes, lips pressed into a firm line. “Are you not going to tell me who it was, kitten?”

Your mind goes blank at the nickname as Yoongi grabs a hold of your other hand, the movement so fast it makes you stumble forward on the bed. You swallow thickly as you find your hands pressed up against Yoongi’s chest, his pale fingers wrapped around your wrists. Yoongi watches you through hooded lids, his black cat ears twitching as he hears your shaky exhale.

“I-it’s not important. He’s not important,” You mutter, heat creeping up your neck as Yoongi’s tail brushes against your legs. You don’t want to mention the guy from work. You don’t have any hard evidence to show except for him being a little creepy, and you don’t want to worry Yoongi with it in case it pans out to be nothing more.  

“So it was a he,” A displeasured sound rumbles from Yoongi’s chest, the vibrations so strong you can feel it through the fabric of his shirt.

“Why does it matter?” You ask. Yoongi scoffs as he slowly inches closer, the look in his eyes bordering on predatory.

“Of course it matters,” Yoongi says, his face is so close you can count every eyelash. He pauses, eyes turning dark as they flicker down to your lips. “You should only smell like me, you’re my owner after all.”

“Owner?!” You choke, eyes widening in surprise at Yoongi’s nonchalant attitude. You had never thought of yourself as Yoongi’s owner – the idea of owning something that was even remotely human making you feel sick.

Yoongi only hums in response, fingers leaving your wrist to cup your cheek instead. “I belong to you, you belong to me. Isn’t that what you promised when you signed those papers at the shelter?”

Yoongi runs his thumb across your cheek, the touch so soft and delicate you wouldn’t even had known it was there, if it wasn’t for the trail of fire his fingertips leave behind on your skin.

“I thought you were a cat!” You sputter.

“And?” Yoongi’s hand slips from your face, a fingertip ghosting over the corner of your mouth before he drops it. His adverts his eyes with a frown, ears pinned back against his head as he leans back. Your face is burning, but at least the little distance he’s given you is enough to clear your mind from repeating Yoongi’s name over and over.

“I don’t want to own you, Yoongi. You’re a human being. It doesn’t work like that.” Yoongi’s grip loosens around your wrist, just enough to allow to you pull your hands back down into your lap.

“Fine, if you say so,” He hisses, hands scrambling to wrap the blankets back around himself once more. You slowly rise to your feet, your chest churning with uncertainty as you pick up the clothes you dropped on the floor earlier. You can feel Yoongi’s gaze burning into the side of your face through the small opening between the blankets.

“At least go wash off that stench.” He growls.

You don’t waste any time as you hurry out of the room, quickly closing the bathroom door behind you as you get inside. You rest your forehead against the wood, a string of low curses falling from your lips.

This whole situation has made you feel weird. Yoongi has never acted like this before, never been so obviouslyjealous of someone else touching you, and well, judging by the blush in your cheeks and the hard pounding of your heart, you kind of … like it. And you don’t know what you’re supposed to do with that realization.

You groan in despair as you quickly strip off your clothes, hopping into the shower to wash off whatever scent might be left lingering on your skin. You find yourself outside of your bedroom door again in no time, hand resting on the doorknob uncertainly. It’s not like you can avoid Yoongi or the feelings that suddenly jumped you out of nowhere forever, you live together in a pretty tiny apartment after all. You open the door just enough to catch a glimpse of the pile of blankets, your voice soft as you call out to him.

“Have you eaten any dinner yet?” You get a grunt in response, and you take that as a firm ‘no’.  You’re pretty sure Yoongi must be coming down with something based on how freezing he feels to the touch and with how weird he’s acting, so you figure at least getting him to eat is important.

For the first time since Yoongi started warming up to you, you eat your dinners separately.

The cat hybrid refused your offer to come out into the living room, instead telling you to leave the bowl of soup just inside the door to your bedroom. You obliged of course, not wanting to pressure him if he doesn’t feel well, but you’ve grown so used to Yoongi’s company that it feels strangely empty eating alone again.

You swirl your spoon around absentmindedly, watching as the pieces of vegetables float around in your bowl. You know Yoongi is only at the other side of the door, but it feels too far – too lonely. You chew on your lip, annoyed with how clingy you’re acting. If you’re already feeling like this after just living together for a month, you don’t want to know how attached you’re going to become later. You don’t even know how long Yoongi will stay; he has nothing tying him down here. You’re just something in-between, just a place for him to crash at until it’s safe for him to leave. You push your bowl away with a sigh, your appetite spoiled.

A quick look at your phone confirms that it’s time to go to sleep unless you want to be a walking zombie tomorrow. And if you happen spend a little extra time in the bathroom getting ready for bed, in hopes that Yoongi will have transformed and gone to sleep by the time you’re done, then well that’s nobody’s business besides your own. But you should have known you wouldn’t be that lucky.

Your heart flips when you open the door, a very human looking Yoongi staring right back at you. He’s sprawled across your bed, using every inch for what it’s worth. You notice that the pile of blankets has been pushed down to the floor by his side.

“I’m staying here tonight,” He announces, his tail swishing languidly back and forth over your comforter as he watches you move around the room. The bowl you gave him earlier is empty, so thankfully he still has an appetite.

“Don’t you do that every night?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow. Yoongi hums, his pupils growing larger the more light you turn off. His eyes roam over your face unabashedly, the glint in his eyes matching the lazy smirk that grows on his lips.

“Sure .. but not like this.”

“Like what?” You step up next to the bed, pausing in confusion as Yoongi suddenly gets under the duvet. He usually always sleeps on top of it.

“I’m staying here the way I am now – ” Yoongi tilts his head, the challenge clear in his eyes as he makes himself comfortable in your bed, “Human.”

“The couch is breaking my back, so I refuse to sleep there. And it’s too cold for you, so don’t even think about it,” He looks smug, clearly having read your thoughts as they formed in your head.

“What about the rule?” You huff.

“That rule was technically broken the first time I woke up human in your bed,” Yoongi rolls his eyes as he impatiently pats the space next to him.

“Fine, just .. stay on your side,” You say as you pull back the cover, flicking off your bedside light as you climb into bed. You’ve barely laid down before you feel Yoongi’s tail brush against your calves, your sleepwear doing little to cover your legs.

“What did I just say?” You mumble, twisting your neck to look in Yoongi’s direction. You freeze as you find a pair of golden eyes staring back at you, the sliver of light coming from your window illuminating his eyes in the darkness.

“What? I’m on still on my side,” You can hear the teasing tilt to Yoongi’s voice as his tail swipes over your leg, the soft fur almost ticklish against your bare skin.

“Yoongi ..” Your words die in your throat as a cold hand wraps around yours under the covers. Yoongi easily slots your fingers together, golden eyes unblinking as he looks back at you.

“But I’m cold – No, I’m freezing,” He whines. Yeah, you think, Yoongi is definitely sick. There’s no way your grumpy hybrid roommate would ever sound so needy if he wasn’t.

You feel torn, and the fact that your fingers are itching to reach out and tug him closer just makes it even worse. Yoongi is obviously not in his right mind, and considering how your heart was trying to jump out of your chest earlier you have a sneaking feeling that your feelings for Yoongi aren’t all that platonic anymore. You don’t want to take the risk of making the friendship between you turn sour if he wakes up and regrets it in the morning. You’re not sure you can handle going back to how things were before.

“Please?” Yoongi softly adds, your resolve slowly chipping away for every pleading squeeze Yoongi gives your hand. You don’t need any light to imagine the puppy dog eyes he must be giving you in the darkness. You’re sure he could give Sana a run for her money.

“Only until you’re feeling warmer,” The words barely escape your lips before Yoongi brings you closer, his golden eyes glittering in the darkness. He expertly turns you over on your side as his arm snakes around your waist, fluffy tail wrapping around your leg. Yoongi tucks his face against the back of your neck with a content sigh, as shiver travelling down your spine as the puff of air hits your skin.

Your body locks up in shock, partly from having Yoongi pressed up against your back, but also from the icy feel of his skin. You definitely underestimated just how cold he was, it’s no wonder he was buried under so many blankets earlier.

“Thank you,” Yoongi mumbles against your hair, the arm around your waist tightening slightly. You can’t seem to form a coherent thought with Yoongi wrapped around you, but thankfully it doesn’t seem like he’s waiting for an answer.

It doesn’t take long before you hear the familiar broken purrs coming from Yoongi’s chest, the vibrations almost comforting against your back. As Yoongi’s breathing evens out, so does the tension in your body. He doesn’t feel as cold anymore, but that might be because you feel like you’re burning up from the inside out.

You would like to chalk it up to just being nervous because you haven’t been with anyone in a long time, but you know that isn’t true. You’re not nervous because someone is holding you, you’re nervous because that someone is Yoongi. You let out a soft sigh, Yoongi’s cat ears twitching against your jaw in response. You’re still not sure if this is the best idea, but it’s too late now. You’ll just have to deal with whatever outcome that will happen in the morning.

.

You wake up just in time to silence your alarm, your mind reeling to catch up as you feel soft breaths spill against your neck. It takes you a moment to realize that Yoongi is still cuddled up against your back, and another to realize how his temperature has shifted from freezing to boiling hot. You feel like you’re sleeping next to a furnace, and the drastic change worries you a lot more than what you would like to admit. It would probably be best to call in sick and stay home to make sure he’s okay, but then Jihyo would definitely be over after work to check on you, and that would probably just cause even more problems.

“I’m fine, you can go to work,” You let out a startled sound as Yoongi’s raspy voice fills your ears, the cat hybrid snuggling closer to your neck. You hear him inhale deeply, a happy rumble coming from his chest as he smells your mixed scents.

“You don’t feel fine to me Yoongi,” You desperately try to ignore how attractive his voice sounds, fighting to hold back the blush you can feel is starting to bloom on your cheeks.

“S’okay, nothing to worry about. Just need to sleep,” Yoongi untangles himself slowly, a low whine of protest escaping his lips as he flips around. He has never had to fight so hard with himself to let go, his instincts screaming at him to claim you.

You sit up to find that his ears are pinned back, his tail sliding from your legs to wrap around his own. He curls up into a ball, his hair plastered to the back of his neck. You gently lay a hand on his shoulder, but the wounded noise he lets out makes you snatch your hand back just as quickly.

“Please go,” Yoongi begs. “Don’t come back today. Stay with your friend and her dog,” Yoongi’s pained voice shifts into a growl at the mention of Jihyo and Sana. The sudden animosity in his voice almost gives you whiplash, but you have a sneaking suspicion he might be running a fever based on how hot he feels.

“Yoongi,” You hesitate. You can’t leave him alone if he’s sick, especially since you can’t take him to the hospital to get treated. He deserves to have someone to care for him.

“I said, go!” Yoongi whirls around so fast you almost tumble off the bed, the wild expression in Yoongi’s face making your stomach twist. His hair is sticking out to all sides, eyes blown out despite the light in the room. He reminds you of an animal ready to pounce as he lets out a loud hiss, his canines poking out over his lips.

You scramble out of bed, grabbing the first things you can see as you hurry out of the room. The moment you close the door behind you something smacks hard against it, Yoongi’s labored breathing sounding through from the other side. You’re about to open it to check if he’s okay when the lock clicks shut, and Yoongi lets out another growl.

“I wouldn’t want to stick around for too long if I were you kitten.”

You can’t remember the last time you got ready so quickly, only pausing in your quest to hurriedly pull out some food for Yoongi in case he gets hungry. While his sudden shift in demeanor scares you a little, you can’t help but worry. Something is definitely wrong, and while it might bring your early demise, you only have one person you trust enough to ask.

.

“I told you!” Sana chirps, her body seemingly a little confused if she should be happy or concerned that she’s been proven right. You waited until after work to spill the truth about Yoongi, not trusting the office to be a safe place to share any secrets.

Jihyo looks like she’s holding herself back from strangling you, a mix of anger and concern pulling her features tight.

“I thought you wanted me to get a hybrid?” You ask, leaning back in your chair as Jihyo points a shaking finger in your direction.

“Not like this y/n! You have no idea if Yoongi is telling you the truth. Maybe he’s just waiting for you to let your guard down so that he can murder you in your sleep!” She hisses, the action so similar to Yoongi it makes you feel even guiltier for leaving him alone at home.

“You and me both know he would’ve done that ages ago if that was the case,” You frown, anger lacing your voice at Jihyo’s ridiculous accusations. Jihyo crosses her arms with a huff.

“Scared,” Sana suddenly chimes in, her eyes glued to the table as you and Jihyo turn your attention to the dog hybrid. “He was scared. When I picked up the scent that was his strongest emotion,” She hangs her head, her white ears drooping down.

“I don’t think he would ever hurt y/n. He just seemed terrified that he would be exposed and thrown out,” You can see the guilt forming on Sana’s face, Jihyo reached out to comfort her immediately.

“It’s not your fault honey, you were just trying to protect my friend – your friend,” Jihyo pats Sana’s head comfortingly.

“I think he’s sick,” You mumble. “I can’t take him to get checked out in case they alert his owner, but I don’t know how to help him either. He looked really terrible when I left him,” Truth be told, you hadn’t been able to focus all day, your worry constantly eating away at your concentration.

Jihyo sighs, tiredly running a hand over her face as Sana leans against her shoulder.

“What kind of sick are we talking?”

“He was freezing yesterday, but when he woke up today he was burning up,” You miss the way Sana’s eyes light up in recognition, a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

“Oh, uh, anything else?” Jihyo’s voice grows weird, her eyes refusing to meet yours.

“I guess he’s been clingier lately? But I just thought that was him opening up more,” You bite your lip, trying to rack your brain to remember if Yoongi has been acting weird in any other way.

“Yesterday he was uhm, uncharacteristically jealous? He said I had someone else’s scent on me, and he seemed like he absolutely hated it,” You wince.

Jihyo chokes on her breath, Sana quickly excusing herself from the table to fetch her a glass of water. Your friend glares at Sana’s retreating back with a look of betrayal as her coughing ceases.

“Yoongi isn’t sick,” Jihyo clears her throat.

“Really?” You slump against your seat in relief, but it’s short-lived. That’s should be great news, so why does she look so concerned?

“Yeah, what he’s experiencing isn’t a sickness, but rather something all hybrids go through,” You nod uncertainly as Jihyo grimaces.

“Sana had those symptoms a little while after I brought her home too, it’s uh, their heat. Or in Yoongi’s case, his rut,” Jihyo says, her hands twisting on top of the table as she tries to figure out the best way to explain it.

“It happens naturally a few times a year, you can’t really do anything to stop it. Normally the symptoms are a lot milder than what you described, but I’m guessing Yoongi’s body might have suppressed his rut for a while if he wasn’t in a safe environment. So I think this might have been multiple ruts hitting him all at once,” You can’t help but feel a little pleased at Jihyo’s comment, that Yoongi must finally feel safe for his body to try to correct what has been pushed down for so long, but it’s quickly overtaking by concern.

“So it’s worse than just a normal rut then?” You ask. Jihyo nods in response.

“I’m obviously not a hybrid doctor, but I did a lot of research before I got Sana. Usually hybrids can do just fine on their own during their heats or ruts, they just have a heightened sex drive for a few days. But for Yoongi .. It’s probably really painful to go through it without a partner. And who knows how long it might last since it’s multiple ruts stacked into once.”

“Fuck,” You murmur. You should have done some research the moment you realized he was a hybrid. He shouldn’t have to suffer just because you’re ignorant of his needs. You might not be his legal owner, but you still took him in and practically promised him you would take care of him while he stayed with you.

“Is it too late to find a partner for him now?” You give Jihyo a pleading look, desperately hoping she might have the solution to your problems.

“No .. not really. I’m sure you could find a female cat hybrid somewhere that could be with him,” Jihyo watches you carefully as the words sink in, your heart being dragged to the bottom of your stomach along with them. While the thought of Yoongi being with someone else – and in your bed of all places – makes you feel terrible, this can’t be about you. Not when Yoongi is in pain.

“But even if you do find someone, it doesn’t mean he’ll accept them.” She pauses, eyes flickering over to Sana’s returning form before settling back on you.

“He might have already chosen a mate for his rut,” Sana sinks back into her seat besides Jihyo, the dog hybrid clasping one of your friend’s hands tightly between her own. Jihyo swallows hard, Sana giving her hand an encouraging squeeze.

“If his behavior is anything to go by .. I think Yoongi might have already chosen you.”

- - - - Oh uh, is that some incoming smut I'm smelling? Hope y'all are ready for a chapter that will mainly be 90% filth, aksjsj. And our resident creeper is just becoming more and more suspicious, isn't he? P.s. In case you’ve missed it, I’m doing a follower event where you can request prompt for me to fulfill! So definitely check that out here if that’s something that interests you.  Hope you’re all well and my inbox is always open if you want to chat about the story or just fics or life in general! See you all soon! <3

#hybrid bts #hybrid!bts #cat hybrid yoongi #bts au #hybrid au #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #min yoongi #fluff #scenting #romance #bts #angst #suga

[samstree]

Four times Geralt wakes up his bard with kisses + one time the favor is returned (3/5)

[1] [2]

(geraskier, kaer morhen, neck kisses, 790 words, cw: injuries and past torture)

3.

Roach’s gait is slow yet steady, the cadence calming Geralt’s wandering mind as they trudge up the Blue Mountains.

Jaskier is sitting in front of Geralt on the mare’s back, his solid weight leaning back on Geralt’s chest. His head burrows into the Witcher’s neck, the soft brown hair occasionally tickling his chin. The bard remains asleep, just like he has been for the past hour, his breathing even but slightly labored, with soft snores here and there.

The late autumn wind picks up again, taking the last of the faded leaves from their branches and up towards the sky. It’s weeks until winter yet. The trek to Kaer Morhen stays wide open with no risk of them being kept out by early snow, but the coldness is relentless.

Geralt adjusts the thick woolen coat around Jaskier, making sure he’s bundled up enough to not let the frigid air creep in. His right arm tightens around Jaskier’s waist protectively so the bard’s wounds are not jostled further by riding on horseback.

At the back of his mind, Geralt wonders again if it’s a good idea, returning early to Kaer Morhen and let Jaskier heal his injuries in the keep.

He is still not fit for travel after all, with barely closed gashes all over his torso and the cracked ribs, giving him trouble whenever he moves. Even now Geralt can hear his breath hitch in pain whenever Roach steps on uneven ground.

Staying in one place until Jaskier fully recovers would have been ideal if not for Nilfgaard following at their heels. It was a judgment call to go straight up the Kaedwen Mountains, to find safety first and leave everything else to later.

The past couple of days have been rough on Jaskier. Walking is near impossible for the bard because of his ribs, but even riding on Roach leaves him exhausted and in pain. Every day when Geralt changes the bandages he can see the wounds not heal properly and stitches pulled. Something as mundane as camping on the forest floor has become an ordeal. Jaskier remains restless until dawn because the cold ground digs into his bruised side, making him more tired the next day.

The worst of it is that Jaskier doesn’t complain anymore.

He hasn’t since Geralt rescued him from the tortures of Nilfgaard. His typical rant about minor discomfort on the road is replaced by complete silence. He tries to grit his teeth through cramps and bouts of pain, but Geralt’s senses are too sharp to miss how miserable he is. The smell of hurt and exhaustion permeates the air around him, but when asked, Jaskier only unfurls his brows and reassures Geralt with a tight smile.

A million years ago Geralt would have appreciated the lack of complaints and whines. Blessed silence, that’s what he asked for when they first met. But now it leaves him hollow and wrong-footed. At least Jaskier can get some rest like this, cocooned between Geralt’s arms. It seems to be the only place where he feels safe enough to relax and catch up on the lost sleep at night.

Deep in thoughts, Geralt suddenly notices the keep looming in the distance, the greyish hue almost blending in with the foggy sky. The Witcher turns his attention back to the bard, his body warm and pliant, his expression peaceful as if in a good dream.

Geralt almost doesn’t have the heart to wake him, but Vesemir likely has already seen them coming down the road, and the sooner he can get Jaskier in front of a fire the better.

He nuzzles into Jaskier’s neck, inhaling the scent there, before pressing a gentle kiss on the soft skin behind his ear.

“We are here, Jask.” Geralt murmurs while tucking back the bard’s hair and places his lips wherever he can reach. Jaskier leans into the contact with a groan, and wakes with a start. His gaze immediately fixes on the silhouette of Kaer Morhen, wonder replaces the daze from sleep.

“Wow,” he whispers.

Geralt buries his nose in the tousled brown hair and presses one last kiss there. “Alright?”

Jaskier shifts his weight to turn, and baby blue meets Geralt, flowing with warmth. He takes Geralt’s hand on his thigh and continues to rub circles into the Witcher’s palm.

“I am fine, dearest, now that we’ve found home.” he presses both their hands over his heart and squeezes tightly. A tiny smile appears at the corner of his mouth, reassuring and trusting.

Geralt cannot help but smile back at him. Hope rises in his chest, settling the worries that plagued him for days.

I did find home, Geralt thinks as he looks into Jaskier’s eyes, his fingers squeezing in return.

Right here.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jaskier whump #geralt x jaskier #hurt jaskier #cw: torture #soft geralt #the witcher #geraskier fic #witcher fic

[shouldntcryoverit]

the art of discordance

captain rex x jedi!reader

previous chapter

masterlist

CHAPTER TEN

Hope you enjoy! Might start this series up again so let me know what you’d like to see and if you’d like to be tagged! 💕

———————————————————————

Jaida’s feet felt weighted as she plodded along the corridor. In fact her entire body did. She needed caf and, among other things, she needed peace and quiet.

But alas, as is the way of war, she’d have to settle with yet another delinquent briefing, which would most likely result in another mission for her to loose herself in. How fun.

Peace wasn’t an option as of right now, but caf certainly was. So as any ordinary Jedi going through dramatic changes to their moral code while fighting a war which had so far gone against everything they had ever been taught by their now dead master; Jaida went and got caf.

Now she stood outside the war room, significantly late, but with a half drunk cup in her hand. On any regular day, she would’ve surely rushed in; profoundly apologising for her misconduct and directing all her attention to any matters presented to make up for her tardiness.

But instead she stood and stared at the uninspiring, off-white and dented plastoid door with almost a scowl. After a second, she took a swig and entered.

“Jaida! I was wondering if you had gotten lost.” Obi-wan smiled warmly. There was a hint of a jeer in his aristocratic tone.

“Oh force I really am late aren’t I?” She tried to laugh, setting down her cup on a surface she’d found (ignoring the future ring it would leave), snapping into a character that would resemble her more awake self.

“What’ve I missed?” Jaida asked as she settled into place beside Anakin and across from Obi-wan.

The holo-projector before her displayed the usual; a barren-ish landscape with red dots across it, symbolising places she’d most likely have to risk her and her men’s lives before moving onto the next tiny red dot.

It felt fallacious to belittle that sacrifice to so little as those red dots, especially when they’d been planted like seeds as if they’re cost was unimportant. To Jaida, red dots had begun to look more like casualty reports and defeated medics; so much more than a speck on a map in a heated war room in the middle of comfortable Coruscant.

But as is the way of war, she thought.

“After the failure to capture Grievous on Salucami, we know his ships will be in this western quadrant.” Obi-wan gestured now to the map of the galaxy, the holo map had apparently changed as Jaida was blinking, and more specifically to a highlighted section of space.

Her red dots would be minuscule by now.

“Our fear is that with Grievous now in need of a place to get fuel and rations, he’ll attempt to take-over ,in effect, the next planet viable. Which in this case” The holomap zoomed into a reddish planet with a dark brown hue surrounding it, “Would be Yeon.”

“Yeon?” Jaida asked. “What’s on Yeon that Grievous could want?”

Obiwan shifted his weight before speaking. Jaida sighed; sometimes she really did regret asking questions so much, especially when the answer require a deep breath.

“Yeon used to be home to a powerful empire, though the dissolution of said empire left the planet vulnerable and corrupt. The wealth still remains, but without proper safeguarding. It isn’t unlikely that Grievous hopes to exploit this, and use their land and people to help secure more galactic wins.” He finished with a flourish. He did always make good speeches, however short or dull.

Jaida shivered. The thought of such peaceful people once again being used as pawns in the seperatist game made her stomach turn. Is this what the galaxy had come to? Perhaps that question could be answered another day.

Anakin, who had up until this point been studying his friends demeanour and desperately trying to figure out the reason for her obvious lack of clarity, spoke next.

“Our mission is to intercept their ‘invasion’ and protect the people of Yeon before Grievous can even reach them.”

“Huh, fun.” She clicked.

A few more details were flattened out, though they mostly fell on deaf ears as Jaida replayed the events of that morning.

“We’ll leave tonight, get a head start.”

Great, she thought.

The corridor felt like it would never end as Jaida carried a backpack towards her destination. It was half full of ration packs and bacta supplies: in short she had no clue what to pack for. The feeling of unpreparedness sat heavy on her chest, even as she commed Anakin to meet her in the hanger.

As she did, Echo opened the door for her, between beckoning to Hardcase that his helmet was where he’d left it. Jaida almost laughed at how mumsy Echo got the few hours before a mission; it almost matched Kix’s mother hen approach.

“Where’re we up to?” Jaida asked, hesitantly setting down the bag beside her feet as she looked over the clones all preparing for a mission.

Echo smiled softly, giving one last side eye to his dazed brothers before giving her his full attention “Almost ready.”

“Thank you.” She could always count on Echo, and a warmth spread over her expression, secure in that fact. “Where’s-“

“Hullo!” The other jedi spoke through a cracker in his mouth. “You good?”

“Where’d you get that cracker?”

Anakin swallowed. Echo had to suppress his laughter at how much they resembled begrudging siblings.

“Help me with those crates and I’ll show you.” He shrugged off, beckoning for Jaida to follow his path.

The good news was the Hardcase had managed to locate his stranded helmet, and Fives only laughed for a few minute at how he almost cried that he’d thought he’d lost it: but the bad news was that Jaida realised that she would eventually have to talk to her captain, who was standing by the edge of the hangar with Kix.

He’d showered, and his pauldron was fixed. He looked so perfectly in control as he watchfully peered over his men. Jaida felt childish almost instantly at the anxiety balled in her stomach at just the thought of having to look at his deep and piercing eyes to talk to him. This was that feeling ‘crushes’ gave you, as Anakin would explain, and Jaida didn’t get ‘crushes’. Not ever, and not now.

She began to help the clones prepare what few weapons they thought they needed. There wasn’t much to sort out and load up, but still among the Torrent company; it was a grand feat.

Jaida was counting reloads and ration packs when she sensed him. Rex, as you could quite obviously expect, was coming closer. She exhaled fiercely out of her nose and picked up the crate she’d been kneeling over. “He’s just being a captain, just be a General.” She repeated to herself like a mantra.

But when she looked up and his gaze was already on her, she froze; childish and with a crush.

“You’re coming too?” Jaida cleared her throat and asked nonchalantly, trying desperately hard to prevent a redness forming on her cheeks.

“Of course.” Rex spoke flatly. His eyebrow twitched slightly as the words left his lips, perhaps testing her meaning.

“But you’re still injured.”

Now he did raise an eyebrow, “I’ll be fine.”

Jaida kissed her teeth, slightly annoyed at her inability to calm herself now.

She nodded as no words formed on her tongue. Nothing to express the ball of emotion in her throat. The Jedi didn’t meet his eyes as she turned away.

Rex caught her arm as she went to bring her crate to the ship, but even as he stopped her pivot she was reluctant to meet his gaze.

“Jaida-” He tried.

“Don’t.” Jaida cut him off, finally glaring at him, then quickly skimming over the room to check if anyone was noticing their ‘conversation’.

“Just promise me.” Vulnerability flashed across her face as the words left her mouth, and even those crystallised amber eyes of his couldn’t make her believe he would.

Rex bit his lip and flicked back over his men across the room, before looking back at Jaida’s ask. He nodded slowly, accepting that he’d want the exact same if it were her. Whatever it was that they shared really wasn’t simple.

“I promise.”

She smiled slightly, before he let her go and she walked off to the ship.

The company left not long after, but not before Anakin and Jaida managed to bicker over who should fly the ship, then if they’d brought the right rations, then whether or not they were ready. At least it was entertaining for the clones to watch their General’s be so relaxed yet so uppity.

But nonetheless, the company all fitted into their respective places and the ship left. Jaida, after bribing Anakin, was flying the ship. She thought that it’d help her concentrate ready for the next mission, although it did also mean that she wouldn’t have to talk to anyone - so, plus.

The journey was rather short, but it certainly wasn’t sweet; for each time Jaida didn’t have to plant coordinates or watch the pressure levels in the engine, her mind slipped to the events of that morning, over and over again like torture. The guilt and worry pressed heavily against her frame; it was fair to say she was absentminded.

But they made it.

“I think we’re here boys.” Skywalker spoke over the channels.

The landing wasn’t rough, but Jaida’s vision through the ship window was too clouded to navigate properly through the thick air. The ship rocked as it hit the ground, and as the men filed our, their pilot was reluctant to follow.

The company gathered outside, Anakin knocked her shoulder; something he always used to do if she was nervous before a practice or exam. It made her finally exhale the breath she’d been holding onto.

It was dark when they made it to the village: a small dwelling lit with vibrant lights around each hut and structure. There was a hum in the air of content, they were peaceful people, and their laughter and chatter floated through the company like a warm drink.

Jaida wanted to welcome it, she really did, but she couldn’t, not when her head was this scrambled. She was still tired, and still torn between wanting to stay true to her morals and protect Rex, as well as desperately wanting to give in to her heart.

Mind over matter, her master would say. Though it seemed futile now.

Jaida followed her men into the village and tried once more to be content with the sweetness of the air. The sun was hanging low in the sky, but it still illuminated the tops of houses and slopes of hills in spite of the darkening hue encroaching. It was peace, the very kind she needed. Yet it would not breach her armoured skin.

The clones had managed to settle in rather quickly, having now taken off a few bits of armour and their helmets. They were standing and laughing with locals dotted about a wide fire pit, an area which Jaida took to be the market place.

After a cheer of babbling and exuberance calling for them, drums began playing in the background as entertainment; and the villagers seemed excited to have new guests for what looked like the first time in a while. They passed out food to the solidiers, colours of orange and green mixing on platters of fruits and perfectly cooked meat. After having a drank a few of their offered drinks, of which their alcohol quantity was unknown, Fives, Jesse and Hardcase danced to the beat as Echo and Kix tried not to laugh.

Jaida watched with an absent grin. She was resting on a crate with a cup of some sweet drink she’d been given by a swirling child, happy to see them so relaxed. Her view shifted from the gaggle of men to her Captain, who was laughing handsomely at his brothers’ feeble attempts. She tried to ignore the pounding in her stomach growing at how his face was illuminated so perfectly by the evening sun, and how it made her tongue swell to see him aswell so at peace. But it was rather difficult to ignore, especially when she couldn’t not-look.

Jaida placed her cup beside her and backed away, leaving the dancing and laughter behind her.

She found herself in the main hall of their largest structure, eyes closed in her own attempt at peace. She could still taste the wafting smell of meats and breads being cooked just a little further away. It smelt like herbs and spices she remembered only faintly from her own travels with her master. Jaida stood, staring at the painting on the closest wall to her when she wasn’t instead focused on her closed eyelids. Her brain was too foggy for anything else.

It was silent. Of course the base of the drums and the echoes of her men and their hosts still made their way in and out of the open windows, but it was silent to her. So silent that when footsteps began behind her she almost jumped.

The presence made it’s way to just a step behind her and paused. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who it belonged to, but still, Jaida cursed her abilities to identify the warmth and security it brought nonetheless.

“You left?“ Rex’s tone was more a question than a statement, and Jaida didn’t open her eyes as he stepped and stood next to her.

“I needed to think without Fives’ dancing distracting me.” She joked in a low tone.

“You call that dancing?”

Jaida chuckled lightly at that, meeting his smiling eyeline.

A moment of warmth spread between the two. It was as if the complications of their feelings melted away for a few seconds, and both simply relished the presence of each other. But it was short lived.

“I cant think either.”

Her eyebrows were knitted in slight pain and sadness, something he recognised within his own head. She couldn’t speak.

“Do you regret it?” Rex broke the silence between them.

“What?”

“The other night.”

Jaida paused loudly, but spoke with force after a second passed. “No. I don’t. ”

Silence again.

“I don’t know what to do to make this… better.” Jaida admitted, the vulnerability in her voice making her cringe.

Jaida sighed and fixed her almost tearful expression back to that familiar neutral coldness. “I don’t even understand it.” She almost whispered.

“Neither do I.” His words were barely there. “I don’t think anyone ever does.”

“Then how do you know it’s real?” Jaida swallowed, blinking down her rising dejection.

Rex paused again, but spoke with purpose. He had been brave before, now was no different.

“Because whenever you enter the room it feels like time stops. I always look for you, like seeing you will change everything. And you know what, it does; everything stops.”

Jaida was shocked to hear the confession, and it made her heart melt when she turned to face him. His face was just as creased as hers; just as pained.

He studied her eyes for a second, almost asking for permission to continue, or even to be dared to do so. But he took in a breath and carried on:

“I knew it when we were stuck in that cave, and you fell asleep against the wall. All I could think of was how perfect you looked. Force, I don’t think you’ve ever left my head since.”

She smiled. A wilful smile that covered all of her stern face. She knew that feeling he described and it made her stomach erupt as he spoke of it.

Her words fell as a whisper once again. “I can’t ask you to risk your entire life on this. But you can’t tell how much I want to.” She spoke louder now.

Rex’s eyes softened.

“We’re at war, Jade. Some things are just worth it.” Rex paused and looked to her. Her eyes held a silent beg. “You’re worth it.” He wanted to say, but didn’t. Perhaps a part of him knew that he didn’t need to.

In the dim light, he could hardly see her face at all, but the peace that had spread across it was blindingly clear. Jaida blinked.

And Rex closed the small gap between their faces and pressed his lips against hers; tender and gentle yet proud, as if it was their first. He lifted his hand to cup her face and she melted into his touch, allowing the warmth of his mouth to thaw the cold of her heart. The kiss was acceptance, it was emotion and it was thrill.

“I’m in if you’re in.” He demurred with lighthearted intention.

Jaida smiled softly, joy in her eyes that Rex only caught glimpses of, but she caught his lips in feeble ecstasy.

She broke away with a dainty smile, and Rex laughed.

“I’m in.” The jedi whispered.

He grinned again, wider now as a perfect laugh fell from Jaida’s perfect lips.

His fingers dropped from her cheek and found hers without question, taking her hand in his as he refused to break away from her hopeful eyes.

Rex squeezed her hand, then jolted, taking her with him as he ran out of the hall and back to where the music still rumbled.

Jaida let him whisk her away, gladly.

#tcw #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #captain rex #tcw rex #commander rex #rex headcanon #the 501st #the clone wars #the clones #the cw #501st battalion #501stlegion #the bad batch #clone wars anakin #tcw anakin #arc trooper fives #arc trooper echo #clone trooper kix #clone trooper jesse #clone trooper hardcase

[hajimesh]

[ 𝘀𝗸𝘆𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 ] — sunrise

◌ ⁺ ˖˚ 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚎𝚜 [6:38]

prev.

⥅ word c. 1.8k

⥅ warnings. fluff, iwa refuses to drink water >:( kinda a filler chapter tbh

“again?”

you grimaced when iwaizumi’s loud voice disrupted the peaceful morning. it was pretty early, streets empty and void of other souls besides the nature blooming around you, waking up to another spring morning. 

but besides the white cat climbing down the roof and the trail of ants on the wall, it was just you and him.

shaking your head disapprovingly, you placed a finger on your lips before giggling, the handsome smile on his face causing your chest to expand and shrink at the same time.

“again.”

blowing him a kiss from your spot, you snickered as you watched his grin widen while he walked faster towards the building. good thing he seemed as eager as you were, it always felt like hours before he made it to the door.

as soon as he got inside, he came face to face with you and immediately went for your lips. both mouths meeting in a soft kiss as you stood at the door, iwaizumi still with his shoes on.

your surroundings seemed to blur around you, his scent invading your mind and his touch melting on your skin. the emotions stirring in you were so strong that almost had you in tears, it was becoming too much and yet you refused to part from his lips, knowing that it would only make room for the emptiness again.

a soft sigh escaped your lips, eyelashes fluttering as you slowly opened your eyes and gazed at him, his tender gaze already fixed on you. 

“i smell food,” he murmured against your lips, pecking your nose afterwards, “waffles?”

humming, you buried your face in his chest, allowing his warmth to envelop you, “you probably haven’t had a decent meal in weeks.”

his hand rubbed circles on your back as he chuckled. you really didn’t want to let go of him, but the food was growing cold so, against your will, you squirmed away from his grasp and started dragging him by his hand.

the kitchen was just a few steps away, a small table sitting in the centre with a single plastic flower on it and two plates full of freshly cooked food. it had taken you a trip to the grocery store since there only seemed to be leftovers of fast food in the fridge, quite unusual of him and you were actually planning on asking him about it later.

“what do you think?”

you watched as his eyebrows raised slightly, olive irises shining with hues of amber thanks to the sunlight filtering through the window. those same eyes switched from the food to your face and your knees faltered, there was a glee in them that you hadn’t seen in a long time and it filled your soul with butterflies until they threatened to spill out of your mouth.

“i fucking love you, you know that. right?” he said after cupping your face in his hands, his gaze unwavering and refusing to look away from you.

the laugh that bubbled in your chest only made his grin widen, raw adoration and happiness emanating from the both of you. standing on your tippy-toes, you left a light peck on his jaw and then pushed him towards his seat.

“you’re gonna love me more once you try the food.”

“impossible.”

the stupid smile refused to leave your lips, cheeks hurting and muscles cramping. but, unluckily, that was iwaizumi’s effect on you, his mere presence was enough to make you smile like a fool.

he groaned after taking the first bite, “this,” he said after swallowing, pointing at the half-eaten waffle with his fork, “this tastes heavenly. i missed your cooking so much, baby.”

taking the compliment with a bashful smile, you chose to focus on your food and began to eat as well. 

“i noticed you’re walking now, what happened to your car?” you said trying to start some small talk and at the same time, it was one of the many questions you had sitting at the back of your mind.

“i’m trying this new thing called being eco-friendly.”

a dramatic gasp left your throat, “you’re such a hypocrite! if you cared about that, you wouldn’t ask for straws at restaurants.”

“hey,” he pointed a finger at you, “that’s for the turtles, not the planet.”

“uhh? even worse?!”

the look of amusement that took over his features only enhanced his attractive looks, even if it was that early in the morning and after a night shift, he always managed to remind you what a handsome man he was. you huffed and pouted involuntarily, it truly wasn’t fair.

“relax, i use the metal straws you gave me,” he reached out across the table to pinch your cheek, “i’m not that evil.”

still with a slight pout on your lips, you stood up and went to the fridge in order to fill your drinks. 

“could you pass me a redbull?” he called from behind you and you frowned.

“hajime, it’s seven in the morning.”

he hummed, “yeah, and i don’t want to fall asleep during my 9 am lecture.”

“then drink cold water,” you offered, closing the door of the fridge after fetching the jar of juice for you and filling his glass with water, “you’ll get an arrhythmia one of these days.”

you saw him sigh once he saw you return with no sight of a redbull in your hands, but you weren’t backing down. with a pointed look, you silently stood your ground until he seemed to give up.

“fine, no energy drinks.“ 

you nodded, relieved that he was listening to you. god, when did he become that stubborn? 

he took a sip of his water, a tiny smirk stretching his lips around the rim of the glass as he stared at you, “i’ll buy a coffee on my way to class, then.”

“hajime!”

“what?!”

—

watching iwaizumi sleep had always comforted you. a dreamy sigh left your lips as you observed the way his dark eyelashes rested above his cheekbones, hiding those beautiful eyes you fell in love with just a few years ago.

it hadn’t been long since you woke up, the room dark and barely illuminated by the setting sun. the shadows of the trees danced all over the walls as they swayed thanks to the wind, a low whistle coming from the windows as the wind picked on its strength and clashed against the glass.

you thought it couldn’t get any more peaceful than that. 

in a matter of minutes, the sky began to turn darker, which meant he had to wake up soon. moving closer to his side, you pecked his cheek, whispering a soft ‘hi’ once you felt his arm drape over your waist.

“hello, pretty girl,” he said in a hoarse voice, smirking lazily before he noticed the pendant hanging from your neck, “where did you find that?” 

your hand automatically wrapped around it, smiling to yourself as you looked down to examine it, “oh! it was in your drawer. so weird because i thought i had it with me.”

“you must’ve left it.”

his tone was dry which made you look up from your chest, noticing the distant look in his eyes, which immediately confused you. he seemed fine just seconds ago?

“remember when you gave it to me?” you shuffled closer, wanting to keep at bay whatever thoughts he was having since it was clear they weren’t pleasant, “honestly, i still had my doubts. back then, i mean.”

you had been texting for a few weeks after meeting at the bar where he worked, and when he finally grew the courage to ask you out on a date, you instantly agreed. 

he said he had prepared a picnic and he would take you to the lake near the campus, but when you arrived there was a yacht waiting for you. everything seemed out of a dream, the sky was clear and the weather was perfect, you remembered he wore a burgundy button-up that made his green eyes stand out, and when the sun began to set, its rays pierced through his irises and made pecks of gold glimmer in them. you had to take a pause to admire the beautiful sight in front of you.

iwaizumi behaved like a true gentleman throughout the entire date, refiling your drink and making sure you ate as he told you stories of his family and friends back in his home country. there was a notorious fondness in his tone, as well as the bittersweet smile that easily let you know that he missed them.

“how do you cope with it?” you asked after he admitted feeling homesick.

“there are days where i want to drop everything and go back just so i can taste my mom’s cooking again,” he shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant and you could only imagine how he was feeling, “but i’ve met wonderful people here as well, and i don’t plan on leaving them behind any time soon.” 

music blasted from the radio and when a slow song came on he quickly offered you his hand and asked you for a dance. at the time, you had no idea what the future had in store for you two, but you hoped that he would bring much more happiness into your life.

and when you saw him inch closer, stroking the side of your cheek while the sky turned into shades of orange and coral behind him, you could only close your eyes and allow him to kiss you.

iwaizumi hajime captured your heart in a matter of weeks, and a year later, on your first anniversary, a nervous hajime clasped a necklace at the back of your neck at the same lake and on the same yacht.

your entire body warmed when you caught him smiling at the heart-shaped pendant, noticing the way it rose whenever you took a breath.

“take a deep breath and you’ll feel my heart right against yours,” he had said.

and since then, you had been carrying a piece of him with you.

“doubts about what?”

“us,” you smiled and he mirrored it, “i never thought you’d like me back and i was always waiting for someone to tell me it was a bet or a dream.”

and it had truly felt like one. as silly as it sounded, it all seemed too perfect to be true which meant you were bound to have your doubts. 

he caressed your cheek lovingly and you closed your eyes, “i know i’m a broke college student, but i’m not that broke.”

you quickly stood up to pick up a pillow and throw it at him, laughing as he scrunched up his face before he received the hit. 

“asshole.”

iwaizumi laughed and watched you walk away once he removed the pillow from his head, “sweetheart.”

“we should go back again,” you said as you turned your head over your shoulder to look at him, the last rays of sun hitting your body and casting an ethereal glow around you, “our anniversary is close.”

“yeah, we should.”

#haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #iwaizumi hajime #totally out of schedule #but who cares

[oligbia]

Heels Over Head

Izuku MidoriyaXReader SFW, Fluff

Midoriya tightened his glare, brows furrowed, green hair falling into his face. His scowl turned into a smile, determination seeping from his skin in the form of beads of sweat. He was not going to lose. His arms were purple, bones broken from overdoing his somewhat new quirk.

You flung yourself upwards again, your quirk launching you high into the hair. You quickly started a decent, nose-diving at rapid speed to Midoriya. You knew he was better suited to use his arms at this point in training, he wouldn't be able to reach you this high. You began to rotate your body, coming down on him with your fist extended like a screw gun onto a board.

You struck him in the head, sending him flying back. His limp body skidded off of the fighting circle, and he showed no sign of getting up. You flung forward yourself, still unsure of the best way to land after falling from such a tall height. You hit the ground with a large 'oof'. You were pretty sure you heard your ankle break, or at least get a pretty gnarly fracture.

You heard Present Mic announce you as the round's winner, but you were struggling to get up and bask in your victory yourself. You may have won your round of the Sports Festival, but you weren't sure you could make another. You finally found the strength to get up, your weight visibly shifted off your damaged ankle. A classmate rushed over to you, and you draped an arm over their shoulder and shifted your weight onto them. You watched as they loaded an unconscious Midoriya onto a stretcher and wheeled him to an infirmary.

Your classmate droned on and on about the Sports Festival, your win over Midoriya, and needing to make sure you can compete next round to 'do your class justice.' But, honestly, you were more worried about Midoriya. You hadn't met him prior to today, but you still felt guilty. Your goal was to beat him- not make him unconscious. He was a fair oppinant, he gave you a run for your money. He had a lead on you for a while, but once he started to break his bones his restraint became his downfall. You took that chance to take a few hard blows to him, landing you where you are now.

You and your classmate stumbled into the infirmary, and they dropped you into a chair to wait. You hadn't had a chance to look at your ankle yet, but in the chair you did. It was bruised all around your foot, the purple and yellow hues almost looking black at points. Both ankles were swollen, but the bruised one was two or three times the size of the other.  

You heard a few final remarks faintly from Recovery Girl, something about taking time to rest and a concussion. You weren't able to see her, but from the sounds of her voice she was behind a curtain on the other end of the infirmary. You watched as she wandered over to you, her tiny legs shuffling under her.

“You’re the young girl who fought Young Midoriya. Good fight…” She survives your ankle, “...nasty results.” She pokes at your bruised ankle, you grimace with pain. A strong throbbing pain shot through your foot. “This one is definitely broken, but lucky for you young lady, the other is just sprained. Nothing I can’t fix for you, deary.”

You watched curiously as she placed a long kiss on your broken ankle, but you didn’t notice any immediate changes.

“It should be better after a half hour or so, in the meantime I will wrap up your other ankle. You should be fine to compete later if you want.”

You smiled and thanked her. She worked on wrapping up the sprained ankle, some of the pressure already relieving. Almost on cue after finishing, she received a call to go to the arena to care for a student on sight- something about the explosive kid from 1-A and a girl he took down. She told you that you were welcomed to stay until you could see yourself out and offered you a pair of crutches before she scurried away.

You sat in silence for a while before you heard faint mumbling coming from behind the curtain. Curiosity got the better of you, and you got up on the crutches, wandering over to the curtain. You drew it back a little, peaking your head behind it.

Midoriya sat propped up in bed, his gym uniform a little torn and twisted up, exposing his bruised abdomen. His arms were wrapped up, but less purple. It was a safe bet that Recovery Girl gave him the same treatment that you had received. His left eye had a pretty bad bruise, making his already dark iris seem even darker. He was scribbling into a notebook, mumbling to himself. You cleared your throat and his eyes shot up to meet yours.

His eyes widened and he quickly closed his notebook, shoving it to the side and trying to move it out of sight. “Ah! I’m so sorry, I probably was being loud!” His voice was frantic and he stumbled over his words.

You peered over to his side. “What were you doing?”

“I was taking notes. I write about different things I think can make me a good hero.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry I beat you up real bad…”

He smiled, his posture relaxing some. “It’s alright. I’ve seen worse.” He lifts his arms up. “I break these pretty often, actually.” He chuckles a little. You looked at him awkwardly, unsure of the joke.

“You had me beat for a while. I wasn’t sure I would win. I’m no good at distanced combat.”

He looked down at your ankles, noticing their state. “Well, your quirk is based on your feet, right? Actually, I have some questions about that…” he pulled out his notebook again. He started flipping through pages of it quickly. You sat down at the edge of the bed, square with his torso. Midoriya, not aware of your presence, began to ramble on about different strategies he had noticed about your quirk. You didn’t have a complex quirk by any means. Your feet had invisible springs, allowing you to jump to incredible heights. It had it’s limitations like everyone else’s. You watched his face, eyes constantly drawing to the large bruise over his eye and the gash on his lip that had been caked over with dried blood. Without thinking much about it, you pulled the wet rag from the bedside table next to Midoriya and gently patted at his lip, trying to clean off some of the blood.

Shivers traveled down Midoriya’s spine at the feeling of the cool washcloth patting gently on his bottom lip. He stopped his thoughts abruptly, looking up at you. Your eyes were focused on his lip, unable to meet his. His pupils grew in shock at your care, especially considering you had just kicked his ass and you had another fight later.

Noticing his silence, you filled in some blanks for him, still dabbing his bottom lip. “My quirk is essentially large invisible springs on the bottoms of my feet. But, like springs, you can't constantly jump high. You have to get a handful of small jumps before a big one. It’s almost like a trampoline, I guess.”

Your eyes finally meet his, and you give him a quick smile. His eyes trace your face, trying to memorize every detail of it. He thought you were quite cute, he was particularly fond of the way your hair was still messy from the fight and the way your eyes seemed to hold an extra layer of determination behind them. He watched as you placed the rag next to you and ran a finger along his cheekbone, caressing the bruise covering his eye.

“Your eye is really swollen, I’m sorry about that too…”

“No! No, no it’s alright. It was an honor to get kicked in the head by you, L/N.” His voice cracked at the beginning, your intimate gesture taking him by surprise. You laughed a little, moving your hand off his face. “Whatever you say, Midoriya.”

He watched as you stood up, taking the crutches under your arms. “I have another fight with some kid from your class- Tokoyami, I think. Anyways, I don’t expect to beat him. My quirk isn’t any match for that shadow thing he has.”

Midoriya smiled, “Well, at least you can say you beat the problem child.”

You shook your head and smiled, grabbing the notebook from his chest. Before he could start panicking and asking for it back, you flipped to the page with a drawing of you and notes about your quirk. You scribbled out your number for him.

“Call me sometime, problem child.”

#my hero academia #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #izuku midoria x reader #izuku x reader #my hero academia x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku midoriya x reader

[aurora-the-kunoichi]

The Forgotten - Part Six Return of the Nerd

Full story here

SMUT FO SHO MY BITCHES, CAUSE THATS HOW I DO!

Despite her failing protests Michelangelo personally escorted Aurora from the compound. She really had no choice in the matter, if she tried to fight him, she would attract unwanted attention and she’d be found out. Thankfully, Mikey didn’t seem too keen on bringing her to Bishop, he actually looked a little nervous as his eyes moved about the hallway seeming to keep her from full view of all cameras. But she had gotten what she wanted, confirmation of Bishop’s base, the one they had been searching for, for years. This was a good thing; it was a win in her eyes.

He walked her through the main gate making sure to keep his massive frame in front of the cameras and guards to shield her presence. This was all so surreal; so much had changed in the last few months. They went from trying to end her life to being unable to control their hormones like horny teenagers but still wary of her motives. She’d take it.

 As they came to the edge of the compound’s boundaries Mikey stopped turning to look at the kunoichi. His large mitt palmed the side of Aurora’s throat before running up to cup her cheek. His rough thumb drug over her bottom lip and he let out a soft sigh which by the sudden bunch of his shoulder muscles was unexpected. His eyes scanned over her face and a look of contentment flash over his baby blues but morphed to concern. “Leo said you told him there’s something inside of us, all of us. What is it?”

 Taking a deep breath, she let it out ready to give him some answers his overactive brain was so desperately in need of, “It looks like a tiny metal octopus, like smaller than an eraser head. It constantly moves so it’s difficult to locate inside the body and why we weren’t able to figure out how he’s been controlling you all. We only found out recently and by pure accident. If only we had Donnie…..”

 “Donnie?”

 Closing her eyes momentarily Aurora let out a heavy sigh and she looked up into his baby blues, “He’s your brother. He went missing almost four years ago, a year before you, Leo and Raph were taken.” Another deep breath, but she decided to keep the new formation of Donnie trying to return from him. If he was lying, which he had always been a horrible liar but just in case he grew some new skills since he was reprogramed Aurora kept that little nugget of info close to her chest.  

 Mikey cocked his head rubbing the back of head, she could see him wince a little and his eyes fog over. “He’s a genius….purple.”

 “Yeah, you’re right….Mike did that hurt you to think of that?”

 “It felt like someone was trying to drill into the back of my skull. Fuckin burns man.”

 Aurora moved quickly around to the back of the terrapin and pressed her palm to the back of his bald crown. There, she fucking felt it, the flutter of something under his flesh caught between his skull and his scalp. She reached for his hand and yanked it back to replace hers. “There! Do you feel it?!”

 It took him a few seconds to feel the movement but when he did Mikey’s body jolted with surprise. “What the hell? Fuck!” His fingers cupped it trying to grab at it. “There is something in me! Cut it out! Jesus get it out!”

 “I-I can’t Mike, that’s your skull, that’s a little more important than your shin or arm. It could get infected I don’t want to lose you to something as stupid as that. Besides its dark and I have nothing to grab it. My fingers would be covered in blood and that thing would slip free.”

 “Fuck, it’s gone.” He began to touch his skin trying to find it again.

 “The skull maybe blocks the transmission a little? I’ve seen your x-rays; you guys have thick skulls. Maybe the mutagen? I don’t know…..” Slowly she took his hand in hers pulling them to her cheeks, the gesture stopped his frenzy. “Why didn’t you turn me into Bishop? I was at your mercy and you didn’t give me over to him. You could have easily done so?”

 “Your eyes.” He cupped her cheeks and locked eyes, “They’re the windows to the soul. The first time we ‘met’ I could see the sadness and the happiness all at the same time. You were legit happy to see us and then it morphed to sadness then terrified. If we had never met before, which we were meant to believe, I would have expected you to be terrified, which is what most people experience when they first see us. But you were happy, relieved even. Fuck, you even knew our god damn names. Like, I was shooketh!  When we got back to base and I confronted Bishop. Bishop told me you were a kunoichi, you were a seductress using your womanly wiles to make us doubt the mission and must have gotten our names from a captured soldier. But your emotions were genuine, so I had trouble brushing it off. Then Raph had his little meet and great with you. You didn’t try to take him, just trying to talk. And then Leo, you could have easily killed him after you sent him to dream land…..awesome job by the way…..but you let him fucking go. What kind of enemy lets their enemies go? You didn’t hurt either of them. When I saw you in the hallway and the way you looked at me when I pulled you into that room, I could see happiness again. No one is happy to see us, not even Bishop. Right now, I can see love.”

 Aurora could see tears begin to form at the corner of his eyes and her body responded following suit. “You were always so intuitive Mikey. I do, I love you, I love all of you. I miss you so much. I wish I could take you home with me.”

 “I know, I know not until you get this slippery little fucker out of us. Plus, I need to stay here and make sure my bros are ok. He cut up Raph to punish Leo for not fulfilling the mission last night.”

 “He did what?! That’s Raph’s blood on your hands?! …..Mission?”

 “Calm down he’s fine, nothing life threatening. Leo was supposed to get loose and tell us where you were, but he never reported in. I guess Leo found something a little more entertaining.” He chuckled half heartily. “I don’t blame him…”

 “Speaking of, how are you doing down there champ?”

 “Blue balls for sure, but I’ll be fine nothing I can’t take care of in a little bit. If it wasn’t for all the security a few hundred feet away I’d have that pretty little pussy of yours stretched over this cock until you were hoarse from screaming my name.”

 Heat flushed her checks and felt the warmth of new arousal bloom in her abdomen at the thought. “I’d let you too. But I need to get out of here before they get suspicious. I mean when you came down that hallway you looked determined.  Where were you heading?”

 Mikey’s eyes widened, “Fuck! I was going to get more bandages! I gotta go! I’ll see you soon Blondie!” and just like that he was gone, running towards the base at top speed. As he reached the main yard he began weaving around and jumping over bodies until he was a speck entering back into the compound.

 It took Aurora less time to head back to her bike still being careful of motion detectors, she took to the streets and as she was a good distance away, she slowed her bike to a stop and pressed the com in her ear.

 “White skull to base.”

 It took a few minutes, but the familiar voice of Casey came over the com his mouth apparently filled with food. “This is Base, go ahead White Skull.”

 “We have confirmation. Disneyland has been located.”

  She didn’t go home right away, the talk of Donnie made Aurora take a detour to the lair. She informed Casey of her next stop and made her way below the streets. Everything was how she left it, dark and empty. Lights began to flicker on illuminating the large space; she moved to the kitchen pulling out a water and cracked it open downing the entire contents in one motion. She moved slowly eyeing the closed door to Donnie’s lab and decided that was where she wanted to be.

 The door opened without a sound and she slipped inside keeping the arch in view. She willed it to come alive with power, to give her back Donnie. As she reached the piece of vexing machinery her fingers ran over the smooth edges finding them surprisingly warm. The lair was naturally cool due to the depth it laid so for the metal to be warm was odd. She moved to the controls and looked for any activity, lights coming alive under the key of the board, a flickering on the screen indicating any type of activity? Anything……anything of Donnie……

 Minutes turned to hours, but she remained glued to her spot. Something in her gut told her to stay, not to leave the lair, not yet. Swiveling in his specially designed chair Aurora picked up a small device on Donatello’s desk and spun it around in her hands. It was glass, a cube to be exact, the reflective qualities were gorgeous, a prism effect. It was a light he had been working on, powered by the warmth from one’s hands. It only took a few moments for the cube to begin to flicker with the variety of colors of a rainbow. The longer she held it the brighter it got. When it reached the desired brightness, she placed it back on his work bench and stared into the shifting hues.

 He had yet to perfect the device, it only held the charge for an hour or two, but he was certain he was about to have a breakthrough with the conversion of power. Something with the helix bonds or whatever. She knew he’d get it; she just didn’t think it would take this long.

 She began to doze mesmerized by the lit cube. Her eyes half closed unfocused on anything she was suddenly aware the light was getting brighter? Did he fix something about it before he disappeared? Blinking her eyes rapidly she focused on the cube finding it like how it should be, dulling with time. Then what was that bright light?

 The sounds of electricity crackling began to rise in volume in his lab along with the pulsing of light she had mistaken from the cube. The source now tore her gaze from Donnie’s work bench to the very much active arch. The light grew in intensity nearly blinding her as Aurora stood from her seat. She shielded her eyes with her arms and watched the arch snap and flicker with power.

 A circle began to open within its circumference swirling between a greyish color and a bright blue. Then it started to fluctuate, and a figure began to form inside the growing vortex. The lines were fuzzy keeping the picture unclear, but her heart jumped and clenched with anxiousness at the forming figure. It had to be, it just had to be.

 Without warning a burst of energy blew from the vortex sending Aurora back with its unexpected force. She toppled over his chair and into a stack of computer parts scattering them across the floor and Aurora on her ass. She quickly got to her feet and found the arc now stable giving her a perfect view of the genius. There was no flickering now, no waves of misaligns data, just a clear as day view of Donatello and it was glorious.

 With unsure steps she made her way around the new mess on the lab floor but kept every sense, every ounce of her concentration on the tall missing terrapin staring back at her through the newly working portal.

 She didn’t know when she had started crying but her cheeks were soaked and her voice unsure, but she called out, “D-Don?”

 Donnie face broke out into an exuberant smile and he reached down for what looked like a bag and hoisted it over his broad shoulder. His left leg rose and slipped through the portal falling onto the cement floor of his lab and the rest of his body followed suit until he was living, breathing, real flesh and bone standing a few excruciating feet away from the trembling woman.

 His tall frame was dressed in new clothes, his legs covered in properly fitted grey slacks with expensive looking custom black boots on his massive feet, old gadgets were gone replaced with smaller fancier items. His backpack was missing but his goggles remained but looked to have gotten a major upgrade. She could see his bo was still there also looking newer. Gone were his broken turtle glasses replaced with black rimed frames that better fit his face making the nerd look more sophisticated. Did he look bigger? The clothes were throwing her off. Where the fuck has he been? The words were on her lips, but she couldn’t move, all her screaming muscles cried out to touch him but she was paralyzed by shock. Four years, it had been, four years since she had seen him in the flesh.  

 The heavy leather duffle was set down and Donatello looked her up and down and he let out a long, very happy shuttering sigh. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

 His voice finally broke her from her paralysis, and she stormed forward leaping into his arms praying she wasn’t hallucinating but the solid body that caught her was very much there and very much real. He was home.

 Her hands ran over him just to make sure, up and down his arms, over his neck to the top of his muscled shoulders. Her fingers worked the first few buttons free and felt the familiar scars and gouges of his chest nearly sobbing at the realization of his return.

 “You’re here, you’re really here!”

 “I am, god, it took so long but I’m here.” His finger hooked under her chin so their eyes locked. Purple and brown both flooded with happy tears. “I’ve missed you.” His lips found hers, soft at first growing with enthusiasm as Aurora responded with vigor.

 As their mouths engaged and reengaged in desperate collisions Aurora began to finish stripping the genius of his fancy shirt. Her fingers pulled the fabric from his shoulders, down his arms until he was free. To her delight she was right; Donatello had been working on his fitness while he had been stripped from his family. Donnie had been no weakling by any means, the purple banned terrapin could easily crush a skull with his bare hands but he had bulked up in his time away.  Eager fingers ran along the ridges of the solid definition squeezing hard with appreciation.

 Their mouths broke free pulling in gulps of air and Aurora’s moved to his chiseled jaw line nipping at the scales until he was panting.

 “Don” she mewled between open mouth kisses down his long throat, “Donnie……D……Donatello.” The more she moaned his name the louder he crooned until he reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it free of her body in one fluid motion.

 “Aurora.” He moaned cupping one breast with his free hand. Gently he squeezed and rolled the fabric over the mound finding the bud beneath peek quickly. His finger caught the bra and pulled it down releasing a breast to his gaze. With a heave Donnie lifted her higher so his mouth could cover the hot flesh sucking and nipping until her could feel the fabric of her pants dampen with her arousal against his plastron. “God, you smell divine. I want to taste you but I don’t think I can wait.”

 There was so much to discuss, so much he didn’t know about. Donnie had no idea his brothers were no longer with the resistance and under Bishop’s control but he looked so happy in this moment and truth was so was Aurora. She would wait to break his heart, they would take this moment, they both needed it. It was a happy reunion and she was sure there would be more now with Donnie back.  Gripping his cheeks she ground against him, “Then don’t.”

 Donatello wasted no time and brought her over to his abandoned desk shoving everything from its surface. He dropped her down and yanked her boots and pants free of her body to begin fumbling with his belt. Aurora’s hands pushed them from the buckle and worked them free with trained ease. The button and zipper were next, teeth opening quickly but making sure not to harm the precious cargo beneath. When the massive erection sprung free of its confines Aurora’s hands were quick to gather the throbbing flesh in both palms.

 The connection with hot flesh against her expert hands made Donnie groan in bliss. His hips shifted making his cock slide through her fingers and she gripped it firmly getting a shuttering sigh from the genius. Her finger found the dripping helm gathering the moister and ran the pad of her finger down the underside of his length staying with the pulsing vein. A hiss pulled through clenched teeth followed by a throaty call of her name. Aurora leaned back spreading her thighs giving him full view of her soaked folds.

 His eyes blew wide at the sight and leaned forward grabbing her right thigh hoisting it up over his shoulder while pressing her back on the cold table. Reaching between them Donatello palmed his length running the spongy head through her folds drenching himself in her scent and essence. Donnie rumbled low closing his eyes to push the head of his cock just past her opening. He stilled at the tightness and the sound of Aurora’s hitch in breath. Rocking slightly he sheathed himself an inch before withdrawing nearly pulling free of her body.

 “D-Donnie….please”

His eye opened looking down at his kunoichi, her face was beautifully flushed, chest heaving and her lips parted with rough breaths. Still only one breast freed from it fabric prison Donnie reached down to free the other. His large hands covered both mounds and the mutant eased more of himself into her, slowly, until every last inch of him was engulfed in the sweet wet heat of Aurora.  

 Both let out a shaky sign at their long past due union and Donnie leaned down to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. He pushed forward again and the pressure of his girth and length made the woman beneath him mewl, arching and twisting to get him to move.

 “Patience Rora, it’s been far too long since I’ve had you.” Slow and deliberate he began to withdrawal tilting himself so he would drag across the roof of her canal. “…far too long.” Reluctantly his hands left her reddened breasts and moved to her hips snapping his own forward with deliberate intention of making Aurora more vocal. He was rewarded pleasantly when her head snapped back at the sudden reentry and a whimpering moan of his name erupted from her throat. It encouraged the deprived terrapin further and Donnie repeated the process at an agonizingly slow pace until she was pleading with him to fuck her.  

 Aurora reached up to grab the rim of the genius’s plastron and she pulled him down, her mouth finding his hungrily.  Lips parted, tongues wound together and the long lost familiar taste of the genius invaded Aurora’s senses like a barreling freight train. It came and she sobbed into his mouth but didn’t’ break the dance.

 The pained sound didn’t startle Donnie but he did pull her closer removing all space that was between them. “I’m sorry.” He pleaded between each drive of his hips. “I’m so sorry.” With each breathless apology his rhythm picked up rutting into the kunoichi with fevered abandon.

 His mouth disconnected with hers traveling down to her throat nipping and sucking making sure to leave marks. It had been years since he had seen his own brand on her skin and he was determined to leave enough so each time she looked in the mirror these next few days he would be the only thing on her mind.  

 Aurora rocked into each plunge of his length whimpering with each strike into her depths. This was so much different than the other day. When she had Leo it was him physically but Leo wasn’t there mentally; he was in his head locked away but not present in the act, maybe to some extent but she couldn’t be sure just yet.

 Donatello was here, all of him; mind body and soul and it made the reunion much more intense. As he drove her to the precipice her hands groped at the dense muscles of his arms dragging him back into her. She was desperate for every inch of him, every drop she was prepared to receive.

 She could feel it, the beginnings of her peek. It started slow like an over flowing sink, the tingling sensation of her climax rolled in her cunt moving to the stretched lips of her labia swallowing his pumping cock.

 Donnie growled feeling her walls started flutter around him, “Are you going to cum for me? I’ve been dre-ahh-aming of his moment for almost five years now. How many times I’ve imagined you under me to give myself a little piece.” His hips picked up in speed to help her along chasing his own in the process. “Cum.” He demanded. “Cum for Donnie.”

 With his command it rolled up her belly and spread like wild fire as Aurora toppled over her peek. Her climax overtook her body tensing, arching into him and she screamed. Open mouthed echoing into the once vacant room she came undone around him.

 “F-f-uck, so tight…..I’m gonna…….” One, two, three more pistons of his hips and Donatello drove forward one last time anchoring himself as far as her body would allow. His beak nudged Aurora’s head to the side to expose her throat and his teeth latched onto the slender column to hold his lover steady as he gave her his release. His cock pulsated painfully and finally erupted with rich ropes of his ejaculate flooding her insides. With each ebbing flow of his climax Donnie rocked into her body with small shallow movements until every drop of his seed was deposited into her womb.

 It took a few minutes for both to calm down, clinging to each other unwilling to disconnect just yet. He was still seated within her as her fingers ran along the top of his shell in slow soothing motions.  She didn’t want to move, she just wanted to enjoy being close to Donnie, he was back, real. His smell was soothing, and his slowing heart beat that thudded against his plastron would easily lull her to sleep. But now it was time for questions, time for answers and he needed to know about his brothers.

 Aurora’s fingers moved to his skull and moved along the back to run down the base of his spin that transitioned into his carapace. He shuttered at the sensation and finally leaned up to look her in the eyes.  

 “Hi.” He whispered ghosting his lips over hers.

 “Hey yourself, nerd.”

 His brown eyes moved over Aurora’s flushed features taking her in, really looking her over for the first time in four years. He could she was happy, and sated for that matter but there as something else in those violet eyes. Then it hit him, they usually moved in pairs, one of his brothers should have been in her company. “Why are you here alone? Are they at the base?”

 She knew who Don was referring too and shifted under him. “Don…there is something I need to tell you.”

 Donnie’s lazy smile lowered his afterglow forgotten. Slowly he pulled from Aurora’s depths and helped her from the table. His lips pressed in a thin line. “No, please don’t tell me……..they’re…….”

 Aurora quickly grabbed for his face not wanting him to finish the sentence. “No! No, they’re not.” She watched his tense body relax at the knowledge his brothers were not dead. “But…they fell under Bishop’s control. Over three years ago Bishop set up an elaborate plan to capture them, you as well if you were with us. He tricked us with false information from a faulty lead and trapped them in an electrified cage. We weren’t able to get to them in time before he stole them away. We barely made it out with our lives as it was. It broke me, broke us, I don’t think the resistance ever fully recovered from the loss of you all. Casey and I ran into them a few months ago for the first time since losing them after trying to confiscate a tech truck that they were overseeing. Leo…Leo nearly killed me. They didn’t know who I was.” Her finger ran over the scar on her abdomen. “But that meeting triggered something in them. All three of them were then drawn to me; I’ve had rather intense interactions with each of them since then.”

 She watched the emotions run across his face; confusion, anger, sadness and finally acceptance. “We’ll get them back. I promise I’ll work day and night to continue my work on how he’s controlling them. We’ll find them, bring them home, I didn’t work my ass off for four years and across several dimensions to not see my brothers again.”

 “That’s the other thing Don, we found it.”

 “Found it?” He parroted tilting his head in confusion.  

 “What Bishop puts in his victims to control them. It’s back at the base at R & D for analysis. It looks like a tiny octopus. We just need to figure out the ‘how’ now, and cut the communication and…. fuck…. we found Bishop’s allusive base tonight too.”

 Donnie cupped her checks and pressed another life stealing kiss to her mouth. With a pop he pulled away with a toothy grin. “You have been rather successful without us.”

 Eyes closed she savored his taste licking her lips, he still drank coffee. They had that where he was? “It took us a bit but you came back just in time to give us a win.” Then her violet eyes snapped open and her palm pressed against his chest applying pressure until the mutant fell into his computer chair with a grunt. She then climbed back on top the genius’s lap and gripped the sides of his plastron looking him square in the eyes. “Now genius…..spill it, where the FUCK have you been?”

 His hands went back to her hips and let out a sigh, “That night when I disappeared I had an epiphany; I came down here with an idea that this thing could help us.” His long arm gestured to his most recent ride home and returned to her lower back to rub the pads of his fingers along her still exposed flesh.  “I was working to use it to access different dimensions….eventually: the nexus, new worlds but what if I used it for a simpler purpose? Move our soldiers from base to a target location to utilize the element of surprise? It would lower the chances of casualties by 30%. I was just going do a test honestly but I must have hit the wrong the button and found myself sucked into the arch and in a new world a very strange new world.”

 “How strange?”

 “Like another version of my brothers and I strange.”

 Aurora’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “More mutant turtles? Like you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

 “Yes I know, it was rather a large shock for me let me tell you. I dropped right into their lair right on top of another Michelangelo. They looked a little different than us, shorter, no clothes besides leather obi’s, knee and elbow pads. Younger versions with their Master splinter still alive, same dynamic though, with Leonardo still as leader. Their Donnie was brilliant; making miraculous things with trash, a very resourceful terrapin in deed. He had made a battle shell, a shell sub and a sewer slider, plus others. Anyways, naturally they were rather distressed seeing my tall ass drop in on them in their home unannounced. After a few hours of telling them my story, and talking about my own brothers and their similarities, Donnie and his brothers agreed to help me get home.  As you can see it took longer than we thought it would, finding the right components and a power source had proved more challenging than anticipated. Then finding the right coordinates proved another hurdle to overcome. I got here on accident so it was trial and error until I saw you the other day through the portal. It was the most glorious sight I had ever seen but the power course failed under the strain, which is why I couldn’t come through. We needed to reinforce it to support the transdimensional pull from the other dimensions trying to break through.  After we fixed that problem and your face appeared clear as day on the other side I knew we had gotten it right.”

 She looked at him absentmindedly running her palms over his exposed biceps, another dimension with more mutant turtle brothers? How many more she wondered quickly before shaking herself from the thought. “Did they have their own Bishop?”

 “Yes, actually they do, and strangely enough as Donnie and I were working one night he confessed his own trip to another dimension or terrible future, he wasn’t sure. It was around our timeline and age; I guess their Donnie had disappeared without a trace as well. Mikey had lost an arm, Raph his eye and Leo his entire eye sight. Casey had passed and the villain was shredder. He had enslaved the entire world killing master Splinter in the process which threw a massive wedge between Leo and Raphael, a very violent wedge that kept them apart for years.”

 “Fuck….I…”

 “There’s more…… they managed to defeat Shredder with Donnie’s help but Leo, Raph and Mikey perished in the fight. It happened years ago and it still gives him nightmares. It would me too, watching my brothers die right in front of me. I don’t think I’d ever recover.” Wiping away a stray tear Donatello gripped her body tighter remembering she had to witness them all ripped from her.  “All these years you had no idea what happened to me and then you lose the rest of them. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t get back sooner. I promise we’ll get them back.”

 She could see the anxiety rise in the genius as he began to process everything. How similar the scenarios were for both worlds and after everything he was still without most of his family. “Deep breaths Donnie, I need you level headed when we head back to base. I know we’ll get them back now that you’re back home. There’s a lot of work to be done and April and Casey are gonna be over the moon to see you. I’m so happy to see you.”

 She was about to remover herself from his lap when she felt the head of his cock nudge against her entrance and soon found herself stuffed full of her genius once again. Donnie took Aurora two more times before he relinquished his hold on her and allowed her to dress.

 Pulling her back into his embrace after watching Aurora tie her katana back to her hip Don pressed a few open mouthed kisses to her throat. “I’m sorry, I have four years of pent up need for you to work through. You’re not going to walk right for a week after I’ve had my fill.”

 His voice dropped at the delicious threat making her shiver at his continued advances and lean into his plastron. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

 The run back to base was pleasant with Donatello right by her side. His long legs made him naturally faster which pushed her harder to keep up with the lanky turtle but the occasionally view of his perfectly round cheeks wasn’t a bad thing either. She couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into them later tonight.

 “White skull to base.” Aurora called into her com as they moved to the final block of their trek home.

 “This is base, please go ahead White Skull.”

 “Will you tell The Curator and Meathead that I’m bring home a present.”

 “Will do, ETA?”

 “Five minutes.”

 “See you then.”

 Donnie slowed down looking at his kunoichi. “You’re not gonna tell them I’m coming?”

 “I wanna see their faces when they lay eyes on you. I wanna keep that memory forever and put it with the same one we’ll get when your brothers return home.”

 @imthegreenfairy88​ @ravn-87​ @alonia143​ @tmntspidergirl​ @blossom-skies​

#tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michaelangelo #the forgotten #part six #return on the nerd #aurora-the-kunoichi #self indulgent bullshit

[pangtasias-atelier]

Irreplaceable

A commission for the great @kanonffa

It’s always fun writing for Takumi cause I love him a lot lol. Also, writing this made me sad about the powercreep in FEH but I still use the hell out of him... 

Thanks again for the commission!

______________

A half battered training dummy staring back at him, Takumi clenches his teeth. Shoulders hunched, his bangs cling to his forehead as he catches his breath. Fujin Yumi in hand, the bow is undrawn as he surveys the training ground. The arena is littered with a multitude of arrows: targets destroyed cleanly in two, a training dummy more reminiscent of a pin cushion, and even the bench is nicked with a few stray arrows.

“It’s still no use,” Standing up, Takumi’s grip on Fujin Yumi tightens. “No matter what I do, I’ll always be inferior,” A few tears threaten to pour from Takumi’s eyes, the salty liquid prickling his eyes. Violently shaking his head, as if his thoughts will stop, Takumi sniffles.

Having been summoned to Askr early on, Takumi’s aid had been invaluable to the Order of Heroes. His relationship to Kiran strained at first, Takumi immediately distrustful of anyone, Kiran’s caring nature warmed him up eventually. Repelling Veronica’s initial assault on Askr, Takumi had been the main cause for the turning point. However, soon enough, his strength was beginning to lack. Foes and heroes grew stronger alike, and he was left to catch up. At first, it simply meant sharing the limelight, something that Takumi was rather fine with. As long as he felt he was doing his fair equal share, working in a team of four was inconsequential. But soon enough, playing catch up was no longer possible. Even with all of Kiran’s favoritism, Kiran offering refines and seals to Takumi first. Eventually, Takumi’s share was no longer equal, Takumi always contributing the least to his team. As Kiran shifted members around, the newer heroes always contributed more despite their increasing recency in being summoned. Once the star of any team, Takumi had been relegated to support, a role that others fared much better in as well, even as Kiran continued her attempts to help Takumi out.

“She’ll give up on me eventually,” Takumi glumly reminds himself. Scoffing, he heads back to his room. He merely offers a curt ‘hello’ to the few heroes that do greet him. He slams the door behind him as he enters his room, placing Fujin Yumi on its stand.

Takumi lets himself fall into his chair. Slouched, the tiny little addition of pudge on his stomach, his beginner abs now washed away by flab, presses against his shirt. “Ugghh,’ Takumi leans his neck back, staring at the ceiling. “If only Ryoma were here,” Takumi shakes his head, imagining Kiran falling for Ryoma if he were here as well. “Well, Hinoka would be nice to talk to,” Realizing Hinoka would most likely tell Takumi to take charge and confess, he rescinds that comment as well. “Sakura…” Takumi trails off, trying to find some fault in his expectation of a conversation with Sakura. But he finds none, Sakura’s reasoning so perfect that he can’t even imagine what she’d tell him.

“Any of them would be nice to talk to,” Slumping, Takumi crosses his arms over his chest with a pout. The only of his siblings summoned, any sort of talking was done with Kiran, but with his issue involving Kiran herself,  the lack of his siblings was starting to become increasingly obvious. “I should clear my mind,” Unwilling to dwell on the issue further, Takumi stands up. He heads over to the mess hall, eating his idea of clearing his mind.

Upon arriving at the currently near empty mess hall, Takumi immediately focuses on the two rowdy heroes eating together. The two of them newer additions to the Order, Gatrie and Osian both have hearty helpings of food. A couple of plates for each, the two talk about their training regimens in between bites, talk of women equally as involved as their talks of their regimens.

Takumi continues to listen in as he grabs something to eat. The idea of more food, Askr’s delicious myriad of dishes a soothing comfort, at the cost of some extra training sounds revolutionary to the desperate Takumi. Grabbing an extra serving of spaghetti, Takumi greedily rubs his hands as he sits down. He imagines his dream body, a defined chest with strong biceps, glistening abs and powerful legs to finish it off, Kiran surely falling for him if he puts on some muscle. Stronger with the added muscle, he’d be able to better pull his weight. His vision in mind, Takumi greedily devours his spaghetti.

Unwilling to spot any other fault with his mind too busy being preoccupied over his lack of strength, his indulgence of food for comfort escapes Takumi’s notice. Training so hard, a bit of extra snacks, or even meals, is a necessity. Or needing the extra food to aid his bulking process to impress Kiran. Takumi is far too willing to rationalize his indulgent behavior as anything but an issue. Even as the bit of pudge on his torso grows some more before that too becomes a noticeable sliver of lard. The extra girth to his body is simply his body being in the middle of his metamorphosis onto bigger and buffer things. At least, Takumi consoles himself as the days pass by. His training sessions grow frequently shorter and as his meals grow comparatively larger. Already deep into his training, a few more days will show some actual growth. And yet, the days turn into weeks, Takumi finding zero progress as the month passes by.

Well, not his intended progress.

Having just woken up, yesterday’s extra helping of cake sits in Takumi’s stomach. It heavily sits in his stomach, Takumi as stuffed as he is groggy. He rests a pudgy hand on his budding gut, his thick fingers curving alongside his stomach. “I…” Looking down, Takumi grits his teeth. His extra girth notable to everyone with eyes, tears threaten to prickle his eyes once again. His stance a tad wider than before his training regimine, his thighs curve a bit inward from the extra flab, the bundle of fat slightly squishing up against each other. The budding layer of fat marking the onset of his double chin presses against his chest. His love handles, both the size of dinner rolls and perfect for a grab, jut out on his sides. “...I just need to train more,” Takumi’s eyes shift, as if anyone else is in his room. Reaching for the nearest shirt, his clothes uncomfortable to sleep in with a clear lack of breathing room, Takumi grunts as he lifts the shirt over his head.

The fabric is already taut as Takumi stretches his shirt to cover his doughy back. Yanking the material down, he lets out angry puffs as he struggles. Fabric catching on fat, the material wrinkling, he yanks his shirt down each time. The hem going past his chest, he grits his teeth as he pulls harder; his arms squish against his sides. Tugging down, the hem goes down as far as possible. The bottom bit of Takumi’s flab remains exposed, his shirt unable to go any lower. His torso is absolutely stuffed inside his shirt. His outward ovular  curve of his love handles press against the fabric, the material clinging to his rolls. His shirt is painted on, his soft chest bulging through the top; the outline of his moobs are visible.

Takumi stomps his foot, the pressure reverberating in his leg. “This is..” Takumi grabs his love handles. He shakes them, his gut jiggling alongside his love handles. “This is pointless!” Crashing back down on his bed, a strained sob escapes him as he rests his head in his hands. The tiny crack from his bed’s frame goes unregistered. “I can’t impress Kiran now,” Sighing, the prior vigor in his body dissipates. Takumi’s frame curls in on itself as he lies on his side. “Not when everyone outclasses me…”

Unwilling to go out, feeling absolutely ridiculous in his far too small shirt, Takumi remains on his bed, shifting every once in a while as he wallows in his self pity. The day going on without him, he dejectedly sighs, his eyes downcast. Unaware of the exact time, the only marcation is the sun’s descent. Takumi sits up as a knock sounds. Takumi scrambles to fix himself, his hands shooting towards his shirt to yank it down. His eyes nearly bulge as the door begins to open.

“H-hey, wait a minute!” Takumi freezes as Kiran walks in.

“Here you are!” Bustling in, Kiran’s ever jovial expression remains present on her face. “I couldn’t find you anywhere,” Kiran smiles at Takumi, her gaze focused on his face.

Takumi inwardly screams. Kiran right in front of him, he prepares himself for a snide comment on his weight, or laughter or just about any way this’ll go wrong.

Yet, none of his envisioned scenarios come to pass, Takumi eyeing Kiran. “Yeah…” Takumi rubs the back of his neck, his shirt rising up his belly. “I woke up late,” Takumi smiles, staring at the wall behind Kiran instead of her face,

“Are you okay?” Kiran steps forward. She places a hand on Takumi’s shoulder.

Takumi grits his teeth. “Of course I’m not!” Takumi shouts, pushing away Kiran’s hand. “Not when I look like this,” Takumi places both hands on his roll of a stomach, the lard slotting itself into his hands. “I’m fat and-” Takumi grunts, lifting his hands in exasperation.

“So, you haven’t been trying to gain weight?” Kiran innocuously asks, her head slightly cocked to the side.

“Huh?” Broken out of his anger, Takumi stares at Kiran. “You think I did this on purpose?” Takumi nearly jumps as Kiran places a warm hand on his stomach.

“I’ve seen you so often in the mess hall that I figured it was intentional,” Kiran pats Takumi’s stomach. She smiles up at him. “I think you look a lot cuter like this, but if you want to lose the weight, I could go over some training sessions with you tomorrow morning,”

Takumi’s face burns, his cheeks a vibrant hue of red that seems to want to melt his face off. His mind replays Kiran’s words, his entire being focusing on Kiran calling him cute. He glances down at Kiran’s expectant face. His mind pieces the rest of her words, Takumi clearing his throat. “Yeah! Tomorrow sounds great!” He winces from his palpable excitement.

“Great, I’ll see you then,” Kiran gives a small wave before rushing away, her face gleeful from the prospect of spending time with Takumi.

Takumi watches as Kiran walks off, her pace always in a hurry. He closes his door as she turns the last corner of the hallway. Alone again, he presses his back against the wall. Pressing a hand to his racing heart, he takes steady breaths. “Okay,” Mind replaying the prior scene, Takumi mulls over the interaction. “She said I looked cute…” Takumi begins to walk in circles. “She was probably just pitying me,” Takumi glances down at his tummy. He pokes his pale flab, his stomach jiggling in response. “But I still have a date with her tomorrow,” Takumi chokes on his saliva as he catches his mistake. “It’s not a date! Just a training session, but still, there has to be some way to get rid of this,” Takumi sighs as he realizes his answer. “It’s gonna be magic…” Inept in the art of magic, the tomes he could barely decipher are now his last resort. Mentally preparing himself, the already late hour is perfect for his little escapade.

Giving one last tug at his shirt, Takumi grumbles as his thighs rub against one another. Peeking his head out the door, Takumi checks for anyone around. The hallway is completely empty. Takumi picks up a decent pace. Fast enough to show he has somewhere to go, but not fast enough to look like a maniac. Or for his fat to be shaking everywhere. Though it still jiggles from his pace. Takumi hopes his face doesn’t get even redder.  He passes by a few other heroes, none of them thankfully from the World of Fates. Though, he still keeps his gaze averted from them, hoping for zero comments about his extra flab. Another few turns, the seemingly endless hallways are nothing to Takumi’s long time in Askr. The ornate brown doors marking the library’s entrance open easily as Takumi pushes them open. The library is void of any other individual, Takumi the only occupant. Deciding to get to work, he begins by the walls.

Takumi mentally thanks whoever organizes the library. Each shelf neatly organized by subject, Takumi quickly browses the shelves by subject alone. Passing by books on geography, painting, weapons, and many more, each subject divided further based upon the realm, Taumi walks along the shelves lining the wall. His attention shifts as he reaches the back left hand corner. A door remains inconspicuous in between two shelves.

Deciding to enter, he praises his luck as he finally finds a section on magic. The room is much smaller than the main section of the library. A few shelves are placed interspersedly; a small table for two sits perfectly in the middle. Takumi glances at each book's title. Spotting a possible contender, the book titled Limits of the Body, Takumi promptly places it back after reading a few paragraphs, the book on the use of magic for tortue.  Another book titled Free your Form details the use of light and dark magic and their usage in manifesting  incorporeal beings.

“Please let this be the one,” Takumi mutters to himself as he grabs another book, this one titled A Treatise on Molding. Takumi promptly opens the book to the table of contents before he flips over to the back of the book where the spells are listed.

Reading the spells under his breath, it takes Takumi a while to understand each spell. And even then, his lack of magic has him only understanding the mere basics of a spell’s purpose. Takumi taps his finger against the book as he finds the perfect spell. Clearing his throat, he takes a steady breath. Reciting the words as best as he can, Takumi looks down at himself with bated breath. His stomach bubbles for a second, the little mound of fat groaning before it begins to recede. Eyes wide, Takumi lifts up his arm. The flab hanging from his arms begins to recede as well, Takumi stares as the definition returns to his arms, his muscles no longer hidden under a layer of fat. Bringing a hand to his stomach, the onset of abs are back, the flat stomach under his lithe fingers. His hand shifts to his thighs, the wide legs now much trimmer. Takumi hugs the tome, the book pressing up against his slight chest.

However, a thought blossoms in Takumi’s mind. If a spell made him lose all the weight he gained, what’s to say he couldn’t use another spell to gain the muscle he desperately wanted to impress Kiran? With that thought in mind, Takumi opens the book, once more rifling through the pages. The spells somewhat hard to decipher, he struggles a bit before he finds what he needs. A spell to get bigger, Takumi recites the spell with certainty, closing the book with a flourish as he finishes. A warmth begins to bud in his stomach, Takumi looking on with glee.

He nearly falls over as his stomach lurches forward. A gut larger than the extra flab he had before, his shirt tears from the sudden growth. His ass does the same, his flat butt gaining shape as it bulges outward, his pants creaking from the fat. His chin soon grows a double chin. His thighs widen, the prior problem of chafing minor as his legs continue to grow and fatten, the two thighs squishing further against each other. His gut continues to expand; the mass of fat sags ever further to blanker his legs. Lethargic, Takumi uses a heavy arm to open the book. He holds back a choke as his arms grow wider than how his thighs were before all this mess. Takumi flips through the spells as fast as he can, his sausage fingers struggling to leaf through the pages. The sounds of his shredding clothing rings in his ears. A new rip or tear seems to sound out as he goes through every page, Takumi’s eyes scanning for the first spell. Feeling just so damn heavy, Takumi grunts as his legs begin to wobble. Huffing, the pile of lard for cheeks begin to encroach into his peripheral vision. His arms shake as he tries to keep the book lifted. And still he grows, Takumi panicking as he can simply feel the expanse of his body despite not touching it. The sheer weight and space he takes up immense as the last shreds of his clothes fall off, the stuffy air of the library against his skin. He feels how much his fat sags, his titanic gut reaching his knees. He struggles to shift, his thighs unbearably pressed up against each other. His chest sags down on his gut, the two breasts larger than even the numerous well endowed women in the Order.

Finally reaching the page, Takumi pants for air. Simply standing, he feels exhausted. He begins to read the first spell, his still fattening body urging him on. His knees buckling, Takumi falls back. Letting out a shout, the book falls from his grasp. His gigantic ass cushions the fall, the large hills for fat rivaling a two seater. Huffing, Takumi spots the book in front of him. Moreso his stomach than himself, Takumi’s bed for a stomach extending far out as it envelops more and more of the floor. Takumi grunts as he tries to lift up a door crushingly-wide thigh. His thighs alone are larger than his waistline back when he was pudgy. Pathetically moving his arms, even that ends up being a chore for Takumi, his massively fattened arms no longer good for anything. Completely immobile, Takumi whimpers as he feels himself grow even larger.

Unable to do anything, Takumi remains seated as he continues to fatten up. Growing unfathomably wide, he wonders about the sheer amount of fabric that would be necessary just to cover up his tank of a stomach. New rolls continue to form on Takumi’s body as older rolls grow even plumper. Takumi gasps as the sides of his stomach press against bookshelves. His tire for a neck prevents him from turning, Takumi only able to see his growing body overtakes the room. He winces as the bookshelves topple over, his fat simply flowing over the mess. Soon, his arms refuse to budge as well, Takumi only able to wiggle his massively engorged digits. His fat continues its growth, Takumi immobilized by an ocean of his own fat. He shuts his eyes as his fat reaches the edges of the room. Expecting the worst, he waits expectantly for the walls to groan as his fat builds up and presses against all four walls. Nothing happening, he opens his eyes.

The room filled with his own fat, Takumi’s body stops its growth. Panic leaving his body, Takumi lets out a sigh. One problem resolved, his other problem of losing all this weight begins to sink in.

Though the problem sounds nowhere near as bad. Takumi finds the soft, cushiony piles of lard warm. “No, this isn’t happening,” Takumi immediately quiets down, surprised to hear the newfound depth to his voice. Definitely never having a high pitched or squeaky voice, the extra hundreds of pounds of lard seem to make sure no one would ever think that. His voice a bit deeper, Takumi whines as he finds himself enjoying the extra richness to his voice, always a bit too self conscious about how he sounded. Shoving that thought away as well, his face is red as he tries to divert his mind onto something else. They shift onto Kiran, Kiran hugging Takumi’s fat while she- “AARGH!” Stewing in his own lard, Takumi’s thoughts continue to focus on Kiran.

Making her usual rounds patrolling the Order’s base, Kiran stops in her tracks as a thud sounds out. Keeping a brisk pace, she watches her footsteps. The noise sounding from the library, Kiran easily slams open the door despite her small frame. Briedablik raised to summon a hero, Kiran instead finds the library in perfect order. A door in the back of the library creaking, Kiran quickly opens it.

She steps back as some pale gelatinous thing seeps forward. The object squeezes through the doorway, the rest of it still contained inside the room. Kiran presses a finger against it. Her entire finger sinks into the mass. Removing her finger, she presses her whole fist against it, the substance absorbing her hand up to her wrist.

“H-hey! Who’s there?” The strange pale blob responds to her prodding.

The voice sounding familiar, Kiran squints in concentration. The name of the voice’s owner ready to jump out of her mouth, the slight deepness throws her off, the voice an octave or two lowers than-

“Takumi?” Concern replacing any remaining confusion, Kiran crawls on top of the mass of fat. Careful to not step too harshly, she fits under the remaining space between the top of the doorway and Takumi’s lard. Her hands and feet sink into the blob known as Takumi. Hurrying her pace, Kiran shifts all her attention in climbing up. The large plate sized nipples mark Takumi’s breasts, the crease of fat not aiding with a myriad of rolls lining the entirety of Takumi’s body. Takumi’s moobs alone are larger than Kiran’s entire head, the pumped full of lard breast sagging to the side as it curves down Takumi’s bed crushing gut. Two smaller mounds of fat placed a bit further back and above Takumi’s pillows for a chest, Kiran sighs as she makes out Takumi’s face. An exaggeratedly puffed out version of Takumi’s face, his jowls even slightly sag onto his tire for a neck, Takumi’s neck comprised up of rolls just like the rest of his body. His partially visible hair gives it away to Kiran, Kiran devoting to memory Takumi’s long soft locks of hair. “Takumi!” Reaching his face, Kiran grab’s Takumi’s cheeks. She stares at his face, checking for anything and everything. “Takumi, are you okay? Who did this? Why were y-”

“I’m fine,” Takumi grumbles, his cheeks jiggling as he speaks. He doesn’t elaborate, instead preferring to shift his gaze away from Kiran.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” Takumi snaps, his voice rising in intensity as he stares at Kiran. He quickly catches his mistake, sighing afterwards. “It’s just…” Takumi sighs a second time.

“It’s just what?” Kiran adjusts herself, shifting a bit back to give Takumi some space. When Takumi refuses to offer any more insight, Kiran speaks up. “Takumi, we’ve been through more stuff than we can remember together. If you ever have anything you want to tell me, I’m always here for you,” Leaning to the side, Kiran has to lie down on Takumi’s fat to reach his hand. Putting a pinky out, she wraps it around Takumi’s sausage of a pinky. “Pinky promise,” Sitting back up, she smiles at Takumi, finished with her piece.

Takumi continues his grumbling. He opens his mouth in random intervals before he clams up. A few minutes of silence passing by, Takumi lets out a short, exasperated groan. “It’s just, I know you were lying about saying I look cute when I was…” Takumi pauses. “When I was stocky, just to make me feel better,”

Kiran nods, allowing Takumi to keep speaking.

“So I decided to use some magic before our training session tomorrow. I managed to lose the weight, but when I tried to add a bit of muscle, this,” Takumi wobbles his arms in a poor imitation of gesturing to his corpulent body. His arms remain glued to his corpulent frame, Takumi unable to lift them.“Well, this happened,”

“Takumi,” Kiran pats the side of his cheek. Her hand is smaller than the surface area of Takumi;s cheek. “ I said what I meant back then. You look great regardless of your size,” Kiran grins, her face growing a flushed red, the same red as Takumi’s face whenever he stares at Kiran when he thinks she isn’t aware of his staring. “But,”

Takumi’s eyes widen, the shred of confidence gained deteriorating by the second. “But…”

“I honestly think you look much better with some weight on you,”

“Err, you already said that last time?” Takumi furrows his brows, his confused expression unfitting with his overly puffed out cherubic face.

“I mean you look great even now,”

“Oh.” Takumi’s face burns red, the cogs in his brain jamming as they register Kiran’s confession. “OH. I - um,” He winces at his sudden lack of speaking. “I don’t entirely think this is awful?” Takumi counter’s Kiran’s confession with his own before backpedaling. “But just for a while! Being this huge all the time is-”

A small chuckle bubbles in Kiran’s throat, her face grinning to stop the oncoming laughter before she lets loose, uproariously laughing to herself. She places a hand on her sides as her laughing fit continues, Kiran’s laughter devolving into a fit of coughs. “Sorry,” Kiran devolves into giggles for a few seconds. “Sorry,  I’m sorry. I just think you’re great and nothing can change that. So, remember to loosen up a bit once in a while. Cause, you’re special and irreplaceable to me,” Kiran smiles, her eyes crinkling as she stares at Takumi’s puffed out face. Bringing a gloved hand to his face, she pinches his cheeks, her smile as vibrant as ever.

Takumi whimpers at the praise, any sort of bold declarations rare in Hoshido’s culture. He retreats in his own fat, his bundles of necks squishing down as he tries to not turn as red as a fire tome. Flabbergasted, the wind knocked out of him and cognitive thinking destroyed, Takumi shyly looks back at Kiran, unable to do or say anything. Kiran is the first one to break the rather short silence, though Takumi finds the silence lasting longer than Corrin’s silence during her decision on which side to support back during the war.

“Well, you’ve probably been like this long enough, so I’ll go find someone to reverse this,” Kiran gives a second smile at Takumi, ruffling his hair in the process. She pushes herself off Takumi, sliding down his hill for a gut. She hurries off before Takumi can complain at her. Walking through the library, she heads over to the perfect person to ask. Going over to the nearest wing, the mages living closest to the library, Kiran knocks on a door.

“Give me a second,” The voice retorts back. Kiran grins up as Leo opens the door for her. Leo’s hair disheveled and his shirt on backwards, Kiran prefers to not mention his clear ready for bed state. “What is it now?” Leo rubs the bridge of his nose. He closes his door, stepping into the hallway.

“I need help reversing a spell,” Kiran leads the way, Leo walking beside her.

“That’s it?” Leo stifles a yawn with his hand. “It better not be far,”

“It’s in the library. Takumi messed up a spell,”

Leo’s eyes widen at Kiran’s confession. “I guess I’ll help him considering how woefully inept he is,” Any sort of dirt on Takumi the best kind of dirt, Leo savors the possibilities of being able to rub it in Takumi’s face about how he needed his help. “What kind of spell was it?”

“You’ll see,” Kiran remains silent for the rest of the short walk.

Entering the library, Leo squints his eyes as something seeps through one of the doors in the back. Stepping closer, he kicks the object, the object profusely shaking in response.

“Watch it!” The blob responds back.

“That’s Takumi; he messed up a growth spell,”

Leo stares at the mass upon hearing that it’s Takumi. “Maybe I’ll let this blunder aside,” He whispers under his breath. His face red, he clears his throat. “This will be easy,”

Before Leo can cast a spell to counter Takumi’s, Kiran grabs his arm. Pulling him down, she whispers into his ear. “You have to teach me the magic of whatever he did. And also make the fix last awhile,”

“Sure,” Leo responds without any hesitation. The more embarrassment for Takumi, the better. He stumbles back as Kiran hugs him. “Enough with the gratitude,” Ignoring the heat on his face, he begins reciting a spell as Kiran finally lets go. His spell a basic counter to the prior spell used on someone, a blue haze swirls around his fingers. The hue turns darker the further he recites the lines, Leo having memorized the spell. Finishing it, he presses his hand against the soft flesh of Takumi’s overflowing gut. The effects completely unnecessary, Leo grins as Kiran oohs and awes from his added little spectacle. “He should return to normal in a few hours,” Leo flushes as Kiran hugs him again.

“You’re the best, Leo!”

“Yeah, yeah. Now go do whatever it is you plan to do,” Escaping from Kiran’s vice-like grip, Leo heads back to his room.

Alone with Takumi once more, Kiran begins to climb Takumi’s immobile body. The soft warm pudge under her, and with the promise of learning the spell, the edges of Kiran’s eyes crinkle from her smile. No longer in a rush of concern, she savors the small climb. Checking around the room, she nearly loses her jaw upon realizing the sheer extent of  Takumi’s massive state. The room admittedly small, the fact does nothing to lessen the realization of the entire floor being covered by Takumi’s mammoth like body. So filled with his fat, the flab of Takumi’s ass begins to rise up along the wall, his lard propped up by even more lard in its desperation for room. His couch sized thighs do the same, the gargantuan appendages squeezed tight in between the wall and Takumi’s monstrous gut. Reaching Takumi’s face, she perches herself atop his breasts, the two massive jugs the most comfortable seat.

“I already feel the weight going away,” Takumi offers a slight smile, still embarrassed about the whole situation. The upper portion of his fat pressed up against the wall no longer feels as high. Neither does the lard escaping past the door.

“Good. They said that it’ll take a few hours to go away,”

“Oh,” Takumi glances down at himself. “You don’t have to stay just cause you feel bad for me,”

“I meant what I said earlier,” Kiran grabs Takumi’s cheeks. The two piles of fat sit heavily in her hands, her palms overflowing with Takumi’s cheeks.

“I just wanted to make sure,” Takumi continues to avert his gaze from Kiran’s. “At least this isn’t a terrible feeling,” Takumi clamps up at his further admission.

“See, I knew you’d realize how cute you look!” Kiran fusses with Takumi, squishing and pinching his cheeks as Takumi squirms under her touch. “But, first we have to wait out for the spell to be reversed,” Kiran holds on tight as Takumi’s body begins to shake, adeep guttural groan sounding from Takumi’s gut.

“I haven’t eaten all day,” Takumi whines, his face pained as his hunger begins to catch up to him.

“I’ll be right back, then. The mess hall should still be open” Inching herself closer, Kiran’s hands sink into Takumi’s expansive lard. The moment passing in an instant, Kiran presses her lips against Takumi’s. Pulling back as quickly as possible, a smile on her giddy face, she deftly climbs back down Takumi’s girth, heading off with an extra spring in her step.

His first ever kiss, Takumi’s mind races as it replays Kiran pecking him on the lips. His bright red face burns even brighter as his mind registers Kiran’s complete eagerness in his size. He fails to register his own extra eagerness as he smacks his lips, already hoping that maybe his size takes a bit longer to go away.

#my writing #fat!takumi #fat!heroes #ssbhm #maleweightgain #fatfiction #fat emblem #feeder emblem #fat!fates

[ziggyzagreus]

Bitter Revival

[Pairing: Zagreus/Thanatos - Fandom: Hades (Video Game)]

[Rating: Teen+ Audiences]

[Important Tags: Light Angst, Argument, First Run Spoilers]

[Fic Type: SFW Drabble]

[AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28493994 ]

[Summary: Zagreus made it to the surface for the first time, only to be dragged back under.]

[Note: This is basically one hour of me being pissed off after my first run, coincidentally the first time I met Thanatos, too! Great timing.]

~~~

Zagreus had been frustrated with dying before – of course it was irritating to be put through excruciating pain again and again, only left to drag himself from the sticky river of blood and do it all over again. Expelling the irritated tension in his body, he would chat briefly with those that supported him, catching them up and once again saying thanks for their tolerance. Then the prince would stop by Cerberus to apologize for this tease of disappearing indefinitely only to come back and give the big mutt false hope.

Afterwards, he would take the berating from his father with an eyeroll and a shrug, and be on his way. A simple routine, mundane and frustrating, but never angering. In fact, more or less it just gave him something greater to undertake than that blasted paperwork.

But this time was different. This time, the prince seethed. The house was quiet at his return, the usual milling number of Shades absent. Even the ever-present scratching of his father’s quill seemed softer, more distant. Hypnos’ snores were not present either.

It was quiet, and Zagreus lie there in the river for a moment before dragging himself up the steps, the wet and sticky sloshing sound grating against his ears, the sound repulsive to his pounding skull. He pushed a hand through his thickly soaked hair, almost cursing when some dripped down his forehead around his eyes.

Zagreus took the few steps out of the Styx, glaring at the ugly trim carpet and how smoke rose from its fabrics when his feet met the floor. The rushing sound in his ears made him feel as though he was still in the river itself; and admittedly, the prince would rather lie down for another moment before pushing forward yet again.

He had made it all the way through – to the surface, past his father, to his mother… and for what? To be gone in moments? It was unfair. Why death always came to him was like a curse, and the thought of putting up with it again made Zagreus’ blood boil for the first time since he set out.

Death approaches. It always did, eventually.

The prince barely managed to stop short before knocking into someone, spotting the hovering, bare grey feet adorned in golden anklets. Of course. Normally, Zagreus would sigh with a fond exasperation, quickly thinking of excuses for his past actions. The leaving, the lies, all that.

But now he resigned to close his eyes briefly, biting back a growl, and raised his head to meet the piercing gaze of Death Incarnate himself.

“Zagreus.” Thanatos said simply, his tone dull and dampened, yet echoing all at once. “You made it to the surface.”

“I did, Than,” Zagreus replied, only his own words came out more scornful, harsher than he had ever intended. Well, suppose it was warranted in his current state. It was the sentiment carried forward from his true feelings.

“I’m sorry to see you back here then, although it possibly could have done some good to mention to me where you were off to. I could have been present along the way.”

“Oh, you were plenty present, Thanatos. I don’t recall being spared any of the pleasantries of a full death ticket,” Zagreus did not have time nor energy for this. He pushed past Thanatos, tried not to notice his gaze boring into his back.

Thanatos followed behind, his own glare then tangible despite persistence unlike his usual disposition. “I risk much for you, wasting my time out there when I have enough to do on my own. The least you could have done was informed me of your departure. Or consult in me about your brief success. Zag.”

“Shove off, Thanatos, I have to go back. I don’t have time for this.”

“You seem to have plenty of time to run out there and destroy things again, things I need to help fix I’m afraid.”

“Thanatos,” Finally halting his pace, Zagreus groaned again and turned around, threading a hand through his now dry hair, pushing it back from his forehead and letting the brief pain of the pull at his roots ground him. “Consider for a moment that I don’t care much for logistical things like that. Consider, maybe, that the only thing that matters to me is reaching my mother, my birth mother, and asking her the questions that have plagued me for… however long it’s been. Please, I’m asking you to see that and maybe leave me be when I go back out there. “

Thanatos had ceased drifting forward to meet him, instead regarding the prince with stoic expression that solidified like the hard edges of a marble bust. A change flickered in the golden light of his eyes, somehow the shade turning slightly darker. “Mother Nyx was just as much a mother to you as she was to us, Zagreus. But is that all we are now, a ‘logistical’ matter? I would have expected more from a lifelong friend.”

“Some life this is then, being lied to.” Zagreus scowled, for Thanatos was turning his words against him. Surely, as his lifelong friend, Zagreus knew that Death Incarnate was aware exactly of his thought process; that he never took his friends and family for granted, that those who cared for him such as Thanatos and Nyx were the few things that made this claustrophobic Underworld experience bearable. But no, Thanatos’ own grudge towards the prince himself for attempting to leave on impulse must take the foreground, always a quarrel with them. “I’ll be frank now, then. Kindly leave me alone, Thanatos, keep your death far away from me. Because I’m going back to her, to Persephone.”

Thanatos did not flinch, but his upper lip twitched in the tease of a scowl, and that was as good as a recoil. Zagreus took little pleasure from inflicting cruel words, but something about this defiance felt good. He raised his chin, glaring Thanatos down, and could have sworn those hovering feet drifted ever so slightly further towards the ground.

Golden eyes darted over towards the great desk of Lord Hades, but the busy deity seemed lastingly unperturbed. Still, Thanatos spoke softly. “You know I cannot help you, Zagreus. I… I have a duty to stick to, and I cannot stray from that. Even for you.”

An unspoken hesitation in his words spoke volumes, and once again a shift in hue of those beautiful eyes made Zagreus’ heart stutter, something beat and clench in his chest. Still, if Thanatos would stew over a grudge for this long, then two could play at that game. Zagreus’ own started today, or night, whenever it was that his presence was ripped from his mother after all he worked for. Dragged under by the cold and cruel hands of death itself, colder than the wind and snow that whipped about Greece on the surface, again and again. But that time it had hurt even more, an injustice for once clearing the prince of blame for his own passing.

Zagreus knew exactly where the sudden surge of anger came from, but not why or how he allowed it to burst out, right to Thanatos’ unsuspecting face. “Fuck off, Than, truly. You do your work, that’s fine – You do what you are meant to do. But I? I don’t know, I hardly do, and here I must find my mother. Maybe, if I had more than a few painful, bleeding moments with her, then I’d feel some sense of belonging and drive akin to how you treat your work, yes? And if considering you as a logistical obstacle hurts, well, I’ll have you know I’m quite insulted to be seen as your work as well then. My constant death is monotonous to you, and for that, I say please fuck off.”

The House was so quiet. Zagreus’ strange eyes burned, and he would be remiss if not to mention that a cruel little vengeful glee spiked his adrenaline when he saw the way Thanatos looked, features stolid but the well-memorized tells of his timidity betraying him. For the first time since they began speaking, Thanatos looked away, another sneaking glance to the grand desk at the forefront of the room.

Hades had ceased writing for a pause, watching his son before a rumbling scoff left with an exhale of breath. Then, the scratching of the quill resumed.

Thanatos swallowed, looking back to Zagreus.

“Fine,” He whispered, that voice steady at this low volume. Zagreus wondered how it would sound should he speak louder. “I shall leave you entirely to your devices. Expect not to hear from me until I come to collect you back to the river. And that means you will receive little of my help, too.”

“As if you were helping from the start.”

“Zag, please don’t take that tone with me again.”

Zagreus wavered then, his brow relaxing as a soft sigh left his lips. But he could not apologize, he could not relent merely minutes after such an outburst. Squaring his shoulders, he  nodded so briefly it was hardly caught. But Thanatos saw. And Zagreus turned on his heel.

Death Incarnate disappeared with a burst of green and grey. The prince only fleetingly wondered on what business he originally came to the House, to leave without finishing the original task.

Unless coming to gloat was the initial intent. No, gloating was not in Than’s nature… Zagreus scrubbed a hand over his face with a guilty groan, and marched right through his room into the tiny courtyard to the rear of the house.

And Centaur Hearts were scarce going forward in his escapes; with the added pact from his father, Zagreus cursed the odds he had accidentally and foolishly stacked against himself.

#hades game #hades supergiant #hades fanfic #hades drabbles #again this was supposed to be like 500 words lol #back on my bullshit #ziggyzagreus #hades #house of hades #hades thanatos #thanatos #thanatos hades #death approaches #death incarnate #thanatos x zagreus #zagreus x thanatos #thanzag #thanatos/zagreus #zagreus/thanatos #thanatos fanfic #zagreus fanfic #the river styx #angsty #light angst #arguments #spoiler warning #hades fandom #zagreus #hades zagreus #zagreus hades

[monstersandmaw]

Male orc x reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This one is a little bit different, and sort of happened by accident, which is why my Patreon supporters hadn’t met Noah before in any character profiles etc.

It comes with a couple of warnings for content, but it all happened in the past, and it's a story about moving forwards and reconnecting with the things that matter. It was deeply personal to me, and I really hope you enjoy reading it.

It's been on early release on my Patreon, and it’s time to release it on Tumblr now! It's partly set in Starfall Springs, and partly in the city.

Length: 6647 words Content: death of a child, suicide, loss of loved ones, alcoholism (all past), recovery, reconnecting with family

********************

The  orc that moved in next door to you was really quiet for an orc. True,  your only real experience of orcs to date had been the rugby club at  university, and their ‘legendary’ dorm parties, but still; he was very  quiet by any standards, let alone by orcish ones.

He  never had noisy lads’ nights in, never held rowdy garden parties as the  summer went on… The most noise he ever made was coming and going on his  motorbike at either end of the day. He just drove it into the garage in  the evening, unlocked and opened his front door door, closing it quietly behind him, and that was it.

One  afternoon, towards the beginning of summer, you stepped outside to clip  a few flowers from the sweet peas growing in the tubs at the front of  your house, and saw him sitting on the steps of his front porch, holding  something small and delicate between his big hands with his gaze fixed  on it.

You  paused, looking but trying not to stare. His shoulders, huge and broad  as they were, had the heavy slump of grief to them. You knew you should  leave him to the privacy of his reflections, but something about his  whole demeanour made you ache to go over there.

Glancing  down at the bunch of cut sweet peas in your hand, you sank your teeth  into your lower lip, sighed, and came to a decision.

The soles of your boots rang on the tarmac, and as you neared his driveway, he looked up.

You didn’t even know his name.

His  dark green skin practically gleamed in the late summer sunlight. He had  long, dark hair, as did so many orcs, and it was plaited back off his  handsome, rugged face, and as he glanced up, you found yourself staring  into two breathtakingly beautiful, dark amber eyes.

They  shone with a glaze of grief, and suddenly the flowers in your hands  felt utterly inadequate for the depth of this stranger’s feelings.

“I...” you faltered, guilt and awkwardness warring for prime position in your chest.

He  looked steadily up at you, his bare, muscular forearms resting on the  nondescript, beige material of the shorts covering his thick thighs.

“Hi,” he said in a gentle, deep, quiet voice.

“Hi,” you replied, swallowing thickly. “I... er...  I saw you while I was picking these,” you said and waggled the flowers a  little, “And I thought that since we haven’t really introduced  ourselves yet, I would pop over with them.”

His  already soft expression slackened a little into a genuine smile, and  something flopped over inside you at the sight of it. “Thank you,” he  murmured, that golden gaze sliding from your face to the flowers in your  hand.

As he lowered his head, you saw what it was he held in his hand, and your vision slid sideways for a moment.

A  small, child-sized bracelet dangled from his fingers. It was beaded,  the faded, dyed leather of the cord a dusky pink, and the letters of the  carved beads spelt out a girl’s name.

He  saw where your attention had snagged, and slowly closed his fingers  around it with a tiny, private smile. “I’m Noah,” he said.

You  introduced yourself by name, and he hitched his smile a little higher,  repeating your name, as if testing out the feel of it. He raised his arm  and extended his hand towards you. You shook hands and felt the smooth,  hard calluses of his warm palms against yours. His hand engulfed yours  and both of you chuckled softly at the sight of it.

One  evening a few days later, you heard the familiar rumble of his  motorbike driving into the garage as you began to wash up the dishes.  The regular rhythms of the suburban road were suddenly shifted, however,  when the click and snap of his front door did not sound, and instead  you heard your doorbell ring.

Wiping your hands on a towel, you left the pans in the sink and headed for the front door.

Standing on the step with a bunch of freesias in his hands was Noah.

“Hi,”  he said, that heart-stopping, slow-dawning smile lighting up his  clean-shaven face. “I wanted to get you something to say thank you for  the other evening. I know we didn’t talk for very long, but you did me a  world of good, and I wanted to thank you.”

You  stared at the lovely flowers, radiant in hues of magenta and gold, and  breathed in their delicate scent. “They’re beautiful,” you said. “But  you really didn’t have to...”

“I wanted to,” he insisted.

“Would  you like to come in? I’m just washing up the remnants of the pots and  pans, but there’s a curry in the slow cooker that will be ready in maybe  half an hour or so. You’re welcome to stay for dinner. I always make  enough food for about four people anyway and I just have it throughout  the week. I’m rambling. I’m sorry.”

He  laughed his earthy laugh, eyes sparkling, and he said, “Sure. I’d love  to come in. It’s been a long time since I shared a meal with someone.”

“Oh?”  The question popped out of you as you stepped back to usher him inside.  He had to stoop a little to get through the doorway.

“I’m  on my own now,” was all the explanation he offered. “And I’ve not been  in a place where I want to think about dating or whatever. It’s nice to  make a new friend.”

“In that case, I’m glad,” you smiled.

Noah gazed around the simple house and his eyes went glassy again. “You like plants, I see,” he observed with a cheeky grin.

Your lips drew into a wry, thin line, and you chuckled. “They keep me company. Them, and Gawain.”

“Gawain?”

“My cat. Well, he’s not so much my cat as I’m his human.”

“Is  he the lean, black, bird-hunting machine I’ve seen prowling along my  back fence, I wonder?” Noah asked, eyes still crinkled at the corner.

“Probably.  You don’t want to know what he brings me back as ‘presents’ half the  time. Anyway, can I get you anything to drink? I’ve got a range of  stuff...”

“Just a glass of water or juice would be fine, thank you. I don’t drink alcohol.”

Another unusual fact about him to be silently filed away; a quiet orc who didn’t drink.

Your  surprise must have shown on your face because he snorted and said, “Not  anymore. I... I went through a bad patch about five years ago. Lost  control of a lot of things, if you get my meaning.”

“I do,” you said with quiet reassurance as you handed him a glass of juice. “Here.”

“Thanks.”  He nodded at the kitchen counter where the slow cooker sat, and inhaled  ostentatiously, his orcish nostrils flaring. “That smells amazing. Do  you always cook for yourself like that?”

You  nodded. “I try to cook a couple of times a week. It’s not all that much  fun cooking and eating a meal for one, but I’ve always enjoyed the act  of cooking, and I think I’m pretty good, so...” You shrugged. “I hope  it’s alright...”

“I  like cooking too,” he said. “Maybe we should cook for each other once a  week or something,” he suggested, following you into the sitting room  and easing himself onto the sofa after you’d settled into the chair by  the window.

He  watched the way you curled your legs up underneath you, and his eyes  lingered on you for a moment with something akin to nostalgia in them.  “I’d like that,” you smiled.  

You  began a regular rhythm after that. Every other Friday, he would come to  your house, and on the Fridays in between, you went over to his.  

It  was plain from the way he had furnished his house that he was deeply  connected to his orcish culture. He had a carved mammoth’s tusk in one  corner of the room which you knew represented the gods and spirits which  orcs worshipped, and he had rugs and wall hangings and cushions that  were all woven in traditional orcish fashion with orcish patterns and  colours. He never spoke about his family though, which struck you as a  little odd.  

Family  wasn’t a topic that came up until one Friday evening when you were  sharing a meal at his house. Noah sighed and set down his knife and  fork, food mostly finished. “I’ve loved doing this with you,” he began  awkwardly. “I… I know I’m not the easiest person to get along with.  Socially speaking, I’m quite hard work, I know.”

“I don’t find you hard work,” you said immediately. “I mean, you’re quiet, sure, but so am I. I think we just click, you know?”

Noah  smiled but it was a painfully sad smile. “I want to tell you  something,” he said. “It… It won’t be easy for me, but we’ve known each  other for almost a year now, and I want you to know.”

Your heart leapt to your throat, wondering what he was about to share with you. “Alright,” you said.  

He  sipped his water and inhaled deeply. “You’ve never asked me about my  family, for which I’m very grateful. You’re intuitive, and sensitive…  and… I’m sure you’ve worked out enough about what happened already, but  still, thank you for giving me that space. It’s not easy to talk about  this.”

“I figured you’d tell me when you wanted to share it,” you said. He smiled, eyes twinkling briefly with gratitude.  

“Well,”  he drew something from his pocket and turned his hand palm-up on the  table. It was the child’s bracelet you’d glimpsed on that first  afternoon all those months ago. Apparently he carried it around with him all the time. Kishara: the little carved beads spelt out the name ‘Kishara’.  “This… This belonged to my daughter,” he said, voice already cracking  with emotion. “She was pretty healthy when she was little, but as she  got a bit older, she got very sick. I married young, by human standards,  but it’s normal for orcs to marry at about eighteen. Anyway, we spent a  lot of time shuttling between Starfall Springs where we used to live  and the city where she was receiving treatment.”  

Tears  brimmed in his eyes, collecting around his long, thick eyelashes, and  he began to thumb the bracelet as though it were a set of prayer beads.  Drawing strength from that, he ploughed on.  

“She…  She didn’t make it…” he said. “She died when she was five. And my wife…  she… she took it badly. She… She never… recovered. About six months  later, she… uh… she…” He blinked furiously, tears starting to roll down  his rough-hewn cheeks. “Yeah,” he croaked. “She took her own life.”

“Noah,”  you breathed, your heart going out to the orc, to your friend. You  reached for his trembling hand and squeezed your fingers around his  wrist, saying nothing. What could you possibly say to that? ‘I’m sorry’  seemed utterly inadequate.  

He  took the gesture for what it was, and offered you a wonky smile. “After  that, I…” he puffed the air out of his cheeks and shook his head. “I’m  ashamed to say that I became an alcoholic. It takes a lot of drink to  keep an orc drunk, let me tell you, and I lost my house, I lost my job,  and in time I lost my family too. They didn’t know how to help me.  There’s… There’s a temple in Starfall Springs that… well… I don’t  worship there, but every faith is welcomed. The priest who tends it  helped me a lot. After I got myself together a bit more, I left Starfall  behind and moved to the city. I got a new job, and I joined a support  group for recovering alcoholics. I’d been doing pretty well with most of  it… until I met you.”

Your  heart dropped and the sudden shock must have shown on your face because  he flipped your hand over and grabbed it, crushing it almost painfully.  

“Shit,  I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I meant… I was doing ok, but  then you showed up and… it was like… like colour started to come back  into my life. I’m not just doing ‘pretty well’ now. I’m doing great. And  that’s all thanks to you.”

“Not gonna lie, Noah, you scared the shit out of me with that one…” you said, relief washing through you.  

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m not much good with words…”

You  tightened your grip on his hand and then wiggled your fingers into his  big palm. He stared at the place where the two of you touched, and  smiled.  

You  swallowed and then said, “Thank you for sharing that with me, Noah. It  can’t have been easy to tell me that, and I’m… I’m so sorry that you’ve  been through so much. I can’t even begin to imagine how I’d have handled  any of that, let alone all of it.”

“I  regret the way I cut myself off from my family,” he said. “I was  ashamed and I didn’t know how to face them, so I just… left.”

“Family is a big thing for orcs, isn't it?”

His honey-coloured eyes became unfocused. “Yeah,” he rasped.  

Something in his demeanour made you ask, “Is there a reason you wanted to tell me this today in particular?”

To  your surprise, a rolling laugh rumbled in his chest and he closed his  eyes as he leaned back a little in his seat. “Yes,” he said. “Gods, but  you’re perceptive. Yes, there is.”

“What is it?”

Still  chuckling slightly, he said, “It’s coming up to my younger brother’s  twenty first birthday. That’s a really significant one for orcs. He’ll  get his first tusk cuff, and… traditionally, it should be his older  brother who gives it to him.”

“Ah.”

He let go of your hand and pushed back from the table. You sat there while he disappeared into the kitchen and reemerged  a moment later with a small leather pouch in his hand. He undid the  drawstring at the top of it and upended it into his cupped palm. A  single silver cuff tumbled out, engraved with orcish runes and symbols,  and it lay there sparkling in his hand while the pair of you stared at  it. He sighed. “I had it made about six months ago. I just… I don’t have  the courage to go back. I can’t even pick up the phone.”

“Do it now.”

“What?”  

“You  heard me. I bet you know your mum’s number off by heart. Call her. Tell  her you want to come home for your brother. Tell her you’re doing  better - I bet she’ll be proud of you - and tell her you want to do  right by him.”

“I…” he faltered, looking afraid.  

You grabbed his colossal arm and shook him slightly, the cuff rolling around at the sudden movement. “Do it.”

He took a deep breath and smiled. “Alright.”

And he did.  

He crossed to his house phone, punched in a number, and waited.  

Your  heart was hammering in your ears with nerves for him, and you suddenly  wondered if you should give him some space. You pushed back from the  table and took the plates out into the kitchen. As you returned to the  living room, you heard him speaking in halting orcish, and smiled.  

“Good  luck,” you murmured under your breath as you crossed to the window and  looked out at his back garden. There was a small cherry tree in the  middle of the tiny postage stamp of a lawn, and you watched the birds  playing amongst the branches while his deep, rumbling voice drifted out  to you.  

When  he set down the phone a while later, his dark green face looked pale  and ashen, and he sat down heavily on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.  

“Noah?”

You  approached and sat down gingerly beside him, touching him lightly on  the shoulder. He smiled slowly at you and then reached out and silently  drew you into his lap, hugging you gently. He held you so close that you  could feel the pulse thrumming at his neck and you heard the rapid-fire  rhythm of his heart beating in his cavernous chest. He cradled you  against him in almost the same way a child holds a teddy bear. “Thank  you,” he said, and you realised he was crying again.  

You hugged him back and the pair of you sat there for a long time.  

Eventually  Noah sniffed and released you with a muttered apology. You drew back  and climbed off his lap while he ran both hands over his face and rubbed  at his eyes with the heels of his palms.  

“So?” you asked. “I take it that it went ok?”

He nodded. “Yeah. She wants me to come to Raph’s birthday celebration.”

“You are going to go, right?”

He nodded again. “Will… Will you come with me?”

“Will it be alright with your family? I mean, I don’t know any of them…”

“Mum  wants to meet you,” he said. “I told her about you. Don’t worry about  being a human at an orcish thing though. She said that most of Raph’s friends aren’t orcs.”

“If  you’d like me to come, then of course I’ll come,” you smiled. “I mean,  you came with me to that work thing last month, and that was boring as  all hell. I’m pretty sure I owe you for that anyway…”

His expression fell just a little bit. “You don’t have to go…”

“I’d like to. When is it?”

Three  weeks later, you crossed the street to Noah’s house wearing the nicest  clothes you owned, and when he stepped out into the sunshine, your  breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. His white shirt fitted  his huge shoulders and chest to perfection, and he had his grey jacket  slung over one arm as he pulled his front door closed behind him and  locked it up.  

“You look amazing,” you called and he turned, grinning.

“So do you!” he laughed. “You ever been on a motorbike before?”

“Never, and yes, I’m terrified.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s not so bad. Here,” and he tossed you his spare helmet.  

The  ride out of the city was gorgeous. It was early enough in the day that  the traffic wasn’t heavy, and you soon got the hang of leaning into the  turns with him. He let you loop your hands around his thick waist and  you tried not to cling to him and crumple his smart clothes.  

Perhaps  two and a half hours later, you passed the cheery wooden road-sign that  welcomed you to Starfall Springs and Noah slowed as he entered the  town. It was a stunning place, the architecture and warm, golden stone  seeming as timeless and ancient as the hills around it, and the salty  tang of the sea air not far away wafted refreshingly over you from time  to time.  

A  huge old house was visible at the top of the cliffs which sheltered the  town to the north, and Noah pulled over on a bridge into the town and  pointed up at it. “That’s the ancestral home of the Silkfoot family,” he said. “They’re driders, and they own a lot of the land around Starfall Springs as well. I went to school with their eldest son.”  

You  nodded, and Noah continued his little panoramic tour, pointing out the  old watermill and the glitter of the sea and the harbour down to the  south.  

It  didn’t take you long to cotton on to the fact that, although he was  keen to point out landmarks and interesting features, he was stalling.  You hugged him and said, “Why don’t we get to your mum’s, and then  tomorrow after the party you can show me round the town?”

You  felt the way his chest expanded with his inhale, and then he nodded.  “You’re right,” he said, his voice still muffled by his helmet. “Come  on.”

His  mother lived in a large, three-storey house on the edge of the town,  and as he parked up outside it, you saw the streamers hanging from the  windows and the flags which all said “21!” blowing and flickering in the  breeze.  

He  took his helmet off and let you slide off the bike first before  following suit. He stood there for a moment outside the house and you  slid your hand into his. Noah looked down at you and smiled. “It’s been  seven years since I last saw this house. Or my family.”

“I’m sure they’ll be overjoyed to see you again, Noah, but we’ll take it as it comes, ok?”  

He  didn’t have time to respond because the door flew open, bouncing back  off the wall with the force, and a huge orcish woman barrelled out and  flung herself at Noah. You stepped back so that you didn’t get  flattened, and watched as she sobbed into his neck. She was as tall as  he was, if not a couple of inches taller. Where his hair was simply  braided, hers had long dreads woven with beads of all colours and  materials from precious metal to wood and horn.

She  cried into her son’s neck for a long time, and he simply embraced her  back, his own face hidden from view. Orcs, it seemed, were very free  with their emotions.

After  a while, you glimpsed a smaller figure standing in the doorway and  realised that a young orcish girl was standing there watching the  exchange. When Noah’s mother finally extricated herself from her son,  she stepped back and wiped her face, giving you a better view of her.  She looked very much like Noah, you realised. Her cheekbones were high,  her nose flat and wide, pierced at the septum, her gleaming tusks huge  and rounded, and her eyes a dark amber too. She was wearing a long,  flowing dress, belted at the waist, and sleeveless, and her arm muscles  were almost as big as Noah’s too. She was a formidable and beautiful  orc.  

“Hi mama,” he croaked sheepishly.  

“Oh, my boy,” she sniffled. “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you. I’ve missed you so much. We all have. Welcome home.”

It  was refreshing to see a people so free with their emotions, and as you  watched the tears rolling down Noah's face, he wiped them on the back of  his sleeve and turned to you and said, “Mama, meet my neighbour and my  very good friend, and the person who’s responsible for me phoning you in  the first place.”

She  turned to you and she shook her head, smiling. “Thank you, dear,” she  said, sounding more than a little choked. “You brought my boy home  again.”

Embarrassed, you mumbled, “He was the next thing to doing it himself… I just gave him a little nudge.”

“Must have been some nudge to get that lump of muscle moving,” the young orc said from the doorway.  

Noah hadn’t seen her until she’d spoken, and he gasped. “Brie?” he asked, eyes wide. “Is that you?”

“Yeah,” she grunted. “Glad you haven’t forgotten me completely, ‘brother’.”

The  sharp resentment in her tone drew him up short, but their mother gave  them both a sharp look and told them to behave. Then she made you all  come inside.  

Noah  cast you one sidelong look and you took his hand briefly in yours. “You  knew this wouldn’t all be easy,” you reminded him when you saw how  crushed he looked by his little sister’s words. “Give her time.”

“I know. And I deserve it too…”

“Don’t think like that, Noah,” you said.  

You’d  barely made it two steps inside when another huge orc collided with  Noah and flung his arms around him. Noah cursed in orcish, staggering  back and trying not to step on you as he absorbed the impact. This, it  seemed, was Raph.

If  you’d though Noah was big, Raph was in a different category. Given that  he was years younger than Noah, he should perhaps have been a bit  smaller, but he was easily seven and a half feet tall, wide as a bus,  and colossally strong. His black hair was longer than Noah’s, hanging  right down to his backside, and you could see that his arms and neck  were tattooed heavily with orcish designs. Noah had some, you knew from  what he’d told you, but it seemed like Raph had taken his love and  respect of orcish culture to another level.  

While  the two brothers reconnected, their mother took you through the  beautiful townhouse to meet some of the others. Brie was apparently  actually called Briar, but she didn’t like the name and was seemingly as  prickly as her namesake about a lot of things. Raph’s friends, all  gathered out in the garden at the back, were easier to get along with  and they welcomed you with warm smiles and friendly gestures. There was a  naga, a good number of orcs, a couple of fauns, one chunky satyr, a  tiefling, a vampire, and a small contingent of goblins.  

Noah  emerged from the house a while later with his brother’s arm slung  around his shoulders, both their eyes sparkling. Raph yelled for quiet.  “Oi! Shut up, shut up! Everyone, shut up!” he called, laughing. “This is  my big bro, and he’s had a really shit time of things in the last few  years, but he came all the way from the city to be here today. I’ve  missed the heck out of him and apparently he’s only here today because  this tiny little human kicked him up the backside and made him come.”

Raph  grabbed a drink and poured a glass of homemade lemonade for Noah and  shoved it at him. Raph then raised his glass aloft and roared, “To tiny  kick-ass humans who aren’t afraid of calling us orcs out on our shit!”

Noah  laughed and looked you straight in the eye. Your stomach flopped over  at the unexpected intimacy of the gesture. “To tiny kick-ass humans,” he  murmured, and drank to you as the cheer went up from the rest of them.  

The  party lasted all day, with music and food and laughter and dancing. The  goblins, it turned out, were some of Raph’s best friends, and it was  comical the way they bossed him around and teased him with deep  affection. As the sun began to set, you watched Noah talking with his  mother and sister in a quiet corner, and Raph came over to you. He  plonked himself down on the grass beside you and said, “Thank you.”

You  smiled at him. “Noah really wanted to be here for you today,” you said.  “He was just… I think he was afraid that you wouldn’t want him back  here after he’d been away so long.”

“He  went through hell,” Raph murmured quietly. “I get it.” He had the same  big tusks and heavy jaw as his brother, but his voice was a bit deeper.  “It was awful watching him just… disappear inside his grief, you know?  He loved his wife a lot, and Kishara was the light of their life. And  then when she got really sick… They were a really close unit, but her  death was just too much for them.”

“It’s not something you just ‘get over’,” you said. “I can’t even begin to imagine how I’d handle something like that.”

Raph  nodded. “I missed him a lot. We were really close. He… He changed when  he was drinking though. I’m glad he’s sober now. He’s the Noah I  remember. Bit quieter, but he’s my brother again.”

“He’s toughed it out. It can’t have been a pleasant journey, and he’s still going…”

He shook his head. “He seems pretty good now though. We talked earlier. He spoke about you a lot.”

“We’ve become good friends this past year,” you said. “I’m so glad we got talking.”

Raph shot you a sideways glance. “Just friends?”

You felt your cheeks heat. “I like him. A lot. But if anything else were to happen, I think it’d have to come from him.”

Raph  nodded, but before he could reply, one of his goblin friends hurled a  balled-up paper napkin at him and yelled, “Presents time, ugly!”

He laughed and looked down at you. “Thanks for bringing him back.”

“I’m glad he brought me along for the ride.”

There  was a bit more ceremony to the gift giving than you’d anticipated, but  finally it was Noah’s turn to give him the gift that would mark Raph’s  transition from late boyhood to true adulthood.  

His  eyes shone in the twilight, the little twinkling fairy lights  glimmering in them from around the garden. Whatever words were spoken  between the two of them as they stood, heads bowed, foreheads touching,  were not meant for the rest of you, but everyone watched in silence all  the same. You knew it was traditional for the older brother to give  advice at this time, and you imagined that Noah had some wise words for  him from his own experience.  

Raph  said something back, Noah kissed his brother affectionately on the  forehead, the pair laughed, and then Noah took his brother’s hand in his  and held it aloft. “My little brother - all grown up,” he said, “Not so  little any more… Mama, what the heck have you been feeding him?”

Everyone  laughed, and the brothers embraced one more time before parting. Their  mother gave her gift then, and Noah came over to stand with you. “I’m so  glad I came,” he said without looking at you.  

“Good. For what it’s worth, I’ve had fun too.”

“You tired?”

You nodded.

“Do you want to head home?”

You shook your head. “Your mum said we could stay over if we wanted.”

“Would you be ok with that?” he asked, glancing down at you.  

“Sure. She’s lovely; your whole family is.”

He smiled sadly. “Yeah. You can see why I was so ashamed of myself and the way I’d behaved.”

“Grief does unpredictable things to people, Noah,” you said. “And you’ve worked hard.”

“Yeah,” he rasped without looking at you.  

The  music started up again after that, and he turned to you and held out  his hand. There was a stone patio at the back of the house where Raph  and he had been standing to conduct the only formal part of the gift  exchange, and now couples and friends were using it as a dance space.  Noah’s mother was sitting on the edge, tapping her toes and laughing  with the vampire, but most of the others were dancing.  

“You want to dance?” he asked awkwardly.  

“Love to.”

He  moved you gently and his hand found its way to your waist. The warm  steadiness of it was almost intoxicating, and you found yourself leaning  into the contact, distracted only by the way his fingers curled around  yours as you moved to the music. Your earlier words to Raph floated into  your mind, and as you looked up at Noah, trying not to crick your neck  as you did, you realised that over the course of the last year that  you’d known him, you’d been falling for him bit by bit. He was gentle  and empathetic, quiet, reserved, and sensitive, and you knew with  astonishing clarity in that moment that if he kissed you, you wouldn’t  pull away.  

Noah did not kiss you.

He  smiled down at you, and continued to dance, and when the song ended, he  stepped back and thanked you. You tried to bite down the  disappointment, and as his sister came to wish him goodnight before she  turned in to bed, you took the chance to slip away.  

The  garden was a large one, and at the far end darkness pooled between the  tall elderberry bushes and apple trees. You leaned your body against the  back fence and stared out at the road that led out of the town and into  the dark hills beyond. Lights flickered here and there, but mostly it  was a dark, inky wash beneath the waking stars. Music wafted down the  garden, carrying a few snippets of conversation with it, and you rested  your forearms on the fence and sighed. He was a widower. He had lost his  child and his wife, and the woman he’d been married to had been an orc.  He’d given no indication that he found you attractive, or that he was  looking for anything else. And why should he?  

In  the wake of the brief moment you’d allowed yourself to hope, crushing  disappointment flooded in. You cursed yourself, letting guilt plunge to  the pit of your stomach like a handful of gravel. Today wasn’t about you  at all.  

The  rustle of the grass behind you was the only warning you got before a  large hand gently pressed itself against the small of your back. “You  alright?” Noah’s warm voice asked softly. “You’ve been down here for  ages.”

“I have?”

“Mmm.”

“Oh. I… I didn’t realise. I was just… thinking, you know?”

“You want me to leave you in peace?”

“No,” you said, a mite too quickly. “No,” you added more quietly, swallowing thickly. “I don’t.”

He  slid his palm around your waist and drew you close to his body. “I  never thought I’d feel anything for anyone ever again,” he said, making  your heart skip a beat as the meaning of his words began to sink in.  “You gave me time, and you gave me space to work things out. I can’t  pretend that I’ll love you the same way I loved… I loved her, but…  you’ve come to mean a very great deal to me.”  

“You  wouldn’t have to love me the way you loved your wife, Noah. I’m a  different person. Heck, I’m not even an orc. I didn’t know you liked  humans…”

“Nor did I,” he chuckled. “But I like you. And… I’d like to see where this goes, if you’re ok with that.”

After a moment of silence you said in a husky voice, “I’m more than ok with that, Noah.”

“Shall we go inside?” he said. “It’s getting chilly.”

You nodded and let him steer you inside.  

He  took you upstairs and pushed open a door to a small bedroom. It was  furnished with orcish crafts and handiwork, and it was clearly a guest  room. “This used to be my room when I was a kid,” he said, smiling  fondly. “Mum redecorated it when I went to university.” He cleared his  throat and said, “If you want to take this one, I can sleep on the sofa  downstairs.”

“No,” you said. “Stay.”

He did.  

After  he’d found you a new toothbrush, and after you’d both showered and he’d  given you a t-shirt of Brie’s to wear to bed, you climbed into the  double bed and he joined you a few minutes later.  

It  felt strange to be lying next to your friend, but it had a rightness to  it which, as you nuzzled up to him and laid your head on his bare  shoulder, sparked a deep contentment in your chest. You trailed the  lines of his orcish tattoos with your fingertips, breathing softly and  finding no need for words.

He  lay there with his arm around your shoulders, hugging you close to the  heat of his body, until he fell asleep, and not long after that you  slipped into dreamless sleep as well.  

Dawn  filtered through the curtains the next day and woke you slowly. You  were still lying on your side, half draped over Noah’s massive body,  with one arm across his torso and one leg hooked across his thigh. The  length of his morning wood pressed against you and you moaned.  

Noah  grunted as you stirred, and he pressed a kiss against the top of your  head. “Morning,” he mumbled, voice thick and gravelly with sleep.  

“Morning yourself,” you replied, shifting slightly.  

“Mmmph,”  he complained and moved his hand down to readjust himself. Your hand  beat his to it and he gasped and threw his head back, chin and tusks  jutting towards the ceiling. “Fuck,” he hissed.  

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

He shook his head.  

You  palmed the hard length of his cock through the fabric of his underwear,  the friction making him roll his hips up into the contact, and you felt  it stir beneath your hand.  

You  slid your fingers under the waistband of his boxers and drew them off,  springing his hardening erection free. His cock was beautiful, thick and  slightly curved, the veins straining as he grew fully hard. He parted  his legs slightly and you watched his balls clench softly for a moment.  

“Someone’s  horny this morning,” you murmured playfully, running your fingers up  his torso. He had a slightly soft belly, which was frankly gorgeous, and  you enjoyed the way he gasped as your fingertips found his nipples.  

“I dreamed about you,” he laughed. “I think that got me going.”

“Did it now?” you grinned. “You’ll have to tell me about it…”

It  wasn’t quite possible for you to close your fingers all the way around  the girth of his cock, but that didn’t really matter. You stroked his  length a few times before thumbing a cheeky circle over the head of his  cock through the pre-come that was beading profusely at the tip. He  gasped and cursed in orcish.  

Using  your mouth and your hands together, you got to work in earnest, and in  no time he had begun to tremble. His thighs shook as you lavished  attention on him, and his breath came in fast, heavy pants. He tried not  to thrash as you sucked the tip of his cock, using your tongue to tease  the ridge around his head and the underside of his cock while your  hands worked the rest of his length, occasionally cupping his balls as  well.  

“Shit,”  he gasped a while later, balls suddenly clenching, “I’m… I’m not gonna…  I can’t…” and without any further warning, Noah came with a stifled  grunt.  

Thick  ropes of come painted his soft stomach as he curled his torso inwards,  eyes screwed tight, hands balled into fists at his sides, one knee  drawing up as the sheer force of his orgasm tore through him. You tried  to stroke him through it but he tipped into oversensitivity almost  before he’d finished coming, and he whimpered softly, trying to swat you  away with a vague motion of his hand. Finally he lay back on the bed  and let his knee fall to one side, leaving his hips open with a gorgeous  view of his twitching, drooling cock as it now lay over his hip bone.

He  took a while to come back to you, and when he did, he looked up at you  and his unfocused eyes sparkled. “Look at you,” he said. “I’m sorry…”  

You  had a splash of his come over your cheek and down your chin, and he  reached for you and thumbed it away with a gentle gesture.  

“Fuck,” he hissed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve come like that.”

“My pleasure,” you grinned.  

“Distinctly  mine, I think,” he countered. He glanced at the sun rising through the  little crack in the curtains and turned his attention back to you. “Give  me a minute, and maybe help me clean up a bit, and then let me repay  the pleasure…”

You  nodded and he tugged you down to lie beside him. You glanced down at  his slightly soft stomach and ran your finger through the come that  covered it, making him groan. “What a mess…” you smiled.  

A smiled “Uhhnff,” was his only reply. 

************************************

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[deviationdivine]

Wake Up | domestic!Android AU Part 1 (Connor x Reader)

gif by arsuf 

F!reader x Connor

13.6k words

Detroit: Become Human - 1 Year Anniversary Release Celebration

A revolution may divide the city but it will never divide you...

tw: Angst, Fluffy Connor in the midst, Language, Suggestive Themes, Violence

a/n: First part of mini-series AU “Wake Up”. An introductory chapter one. Apologies for how long this took but I struggled and I am not happy with the end result. However, it’s finally here. • Connor is the latest high tech domestic model built with a collection of extra features, skills and functions making him the most advanced of his kind. As your personal assistant he is equipped with becoming the perfect partner if you so require. Falling in love with your personal android was never part of the equation nor was his break into deviancy...

“My name is Connor. I am your personal assistant. My features will allow me to take extensive care of your home, do the cooking, mind children and repair any problematic issues that arise within the household’s utilities. 

As I am the most advanced make I can perform various tasks including but not limited to acts of a sexual nature. If you so require I am capable of being the perfect partner…”

Perfect is a conceptual illusion in every sense or so you come to believe. Why do humans think in terms of excellence when most shining examples tarnish in glaring flaws? Even technology can be made wrong or needing improvement not long after distribution. Faulty wiring, danger of overheating and causing harm of a radioactive proponent all seem minuscule in comparison. 

Today, in the future, there is a grander blueprint mapping out the most innovative, extreme to date.

When it becomes alive, mimics the very corporeal state of being born unto humans since man breathed life in this vast universe, mirroring visage of those who wish to create in their likeness.

How does it go from technological wonder to abstruse thinking? Concepts can be a greater weapon. They can also reach for too much too soon. Is this the true state of AI meant for consumer consumption?

Cart them off exclusively as merchandise no matter how human they look. Isn’t that their appeal? The more something foreign, inexplicable but resembles us the more it is accepted. Basic instinctual deep thinking bred into all humans. Difference is an attest beneath surface value. Judge a book by a cover but if there are features hiding its distinct nature by all means use it.

Laziness might be a better solution in this mathematical equation. Imperfect perfection makes way for future development. Those are the very elements that change the world.

Can you even imagine for one second, one little point in life it would come to change yours? So small in a world full of billions but here in Detroit home of Cyberlife and its creation the pilot sparks. Alight with technological revolution.

Androids are here. Androids are owned. Bought as slaves to humanity and used beyond measure, no consideration that those made in image could possibly develop feelings. Emotions are heavy. They are what make us all human. Can machine truly become human?

  You never wanted one. Mostly it made you uncomfortable witnessing cruelty by specific ‘owners’ on the bustling city streets. It’s everywhere. Even today, chillier, more specifically a frigidity creeping into bones.

Eyes shift over a couple walking briskly as you draw coat closer together up throat. Keeping wind seeping through to tangle around your body but watching them waltz their merry way without care. Of course they have none. Their female android, an AX400 to be exact, is taking care of two rowdy children.

Honestly it must be nice. Not having to parent after deciding to add more to the burdening populace. Maybe that’s just your pessimism talking. Simple fact though? Could be that too but who knows?

Just another one of those days but it is about to change drastically. Passing a Cyberlife store does pique curiosity. Window displays my God. They line them up as if that’s all they are.

They offer whatever a human wants and yet not all can bother to treat them fairly. Is it enough androids are made to look as everyone else? Would a genuine human being treat another so despicably? Yes. A resounding yes because it never goes away. People treat people with disdain for every reason, every prejudice and why should that shock? Androids have become an additional target. 

Honestly it makes you sick. Never did you once realize this is what would change things completely. On this very day, minding business walking home from another tiring bustle  

More than one occurrence struck you right in the gut. A previous household model absorbs brunt of   obscenities and physical humiliation. A scene like this turned your stomach. 

The moment it came to intervene you received an interrupting phone call. Unfortunately this was the start of big changes in your life.

What does one do discovering death of a relative? Closeness is a fundamental of familial connections. For you? Well, let’s say it didn’t quite work out.

  “What do you mean he…died?” Answering in a quiet breath, cell phone a tight clutch in hand stalling in breezy climate, everything stops around your personal orbit.

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” a familiar voice speaks over your ingenious disbelief.

Ignoring your pleas for a proper answer it becomes increasingly cruel on the woman’s breath digging truths in your ear. Whether she realizes this or not it’s up for debate. “You do realize this was coming. It isn’t as if he were young and healthy. Frankly, I am surprised you are having such a negative reaction.”

Negative is exactly the type of reaction! What does she expect? “Of course I’m having a reaction!” Practically screaming into your phone made the chilled air sting worse. How is this happening? How can this even be real?

“Oh, it’s all right, Y/N. Get it out now. It’ll be better if you don’t make a scene at the funeral.”

Anger is a burning pyre ready to fan over and incinerate. One snide comment reminds how much you can’t stand this person. She’s not even blood related. An ‘aunt’ isn’t technically qualified to hold the title and that’s fine. Just another excuse to dig at you in this family but there is no family left. Your father – he’s dead.

Money fixes everything? Unlikely but still nothing surprises you more than receiving something from an estranged parent. Generous sums to a black sheep or as you’re sure greedy auntie bitch of the hour calls you behind your back. She is one woman who deserves that damn moniker. Especially when it’s clear there are no connections left. Aunt Cruella, as christened ages ago by your best friend, made short work of your uncle. Certainly bled him dry continues to do so with his left over money after he succumbed to stress in a massive heart attack. Why do people like her thrive using, snide and heartless while others –?

What can you do then? Except you fall into an overwhelming sense of losing time and never extending an olive branch. Why is the universe so cruel? Why can’t you turn back time, forget every stupid thing that ever happened to drive a rift?

Part of you couldn’t stand the idea of being alone rest of your life. Maybe that’s why using part of a small deposit felt right. Watching so many gradually fall into current technological commercialism lead to most having their own android. It seems almost a little too barbaric making them cater to every whim. Honestly, you have no idea why this is needed. Do you really need him? 

No, he isn’t… He. Yes, he. 

Despite manufacturing Connor is a he in every sense.  Even then you saw as much. Now is much more complicated or you are just as ridiculously naive as you’ve always been told. Who cares about naivety? It is simple opinion. No. This is a belief one that surely would have left nothing to you in an event of final family member’s passing. Yet here you are with him.

You recall when he first arrives unaware of how efficient Cyberlife retail truly is. Why should you be surprised? Deliveries have gone from generic dairy of yesteryear, beyond personalized grocery orders and straight to personalized beings. Androids: alive or not alive?

In conjunction with preprogramming he sounds so lively. In his voice a natural husky dulcet and his eyes a deep soulful brown. Souls in androids are impossible but it’s the only way you think to describe warm chocolate. Hotter than a mug of it steeped in whip cream vanishes as a ghost beneath steaming liquid. 

Flecks of caramel shine in hypnotic swirls enriching accents of russets in muddy hues, the very first thing captivating attention as he offers his list of functions. Even falling upon the last is difficult to decipher how caught up you are in a consummately asymmetrical visage. 

He is far too pretty to look at and you try to ignore these facts. The facts of your newly purchased personal android possessing an aura of physical attractiveness. A fabrication in aesthetics you remember. A way to cover up what he actually is beneath soft synthetic skin dusted as constellations of freckles. 

Tiny beauties cresting upon sharp cheekbones, chiseled jaw, purposely formed to elicit a reaction. This is not at all what you expected but it’s never something to forget. Little do you realize in this moment Connor will always burn brightest to memory? Little do you understand how events will unfold but they shall.

  “Is there a problem?” he asks habitual to programming. 

Societal protocols run a gamut through system piecing together the best course of action. It is only his first day interior of your home. He is of a sense of determination to complete whatever task you assign. 

Determination is not part of proper function. However, he minded the concept. It will be efficient for current issue. “I may be able to rectify your issue. What do you require of me?”

 Require? What?

You cough, inhaling sharply at his head cocking so innocently. A droop of hair flutters atop forehead as a sole rebel willing to fight immaculate armies. He is very well put together. Not that you mean the whole manufactured part! He just – looks like a really good looking guy who takes care of his appearance. Hair mostly but…

Wow, Y/N. Real nice for your first try at handling a conversation with an android.

Not that this is the first android you’ve been in contact with. Difficult not to be when they’re all over but as your very own?

OK Cyberlife! What is up with making him look like real life Prince Charming?  I mean look at this perfection. Is this required? Are they allowed to do this to poor unsuspecting humans?

Watching his brows furrow and LED flutter amber somehow pumps the beats of heart faster. Surely it’s a dead giveaway. It’s not every day you’re cursing Cyberlife for practically throwing a chiseled Greek god at you.

Oh, shit, really? Greek God? What the hell is wrong with you? What isn’t wrong with you?

You sigh, clicking tongue at yourself. Frustration doesn’t begin with this!

“Your stress levels are high,” Connor offers a reading of initial scan. “Would you like me to remedy the problem? I have several possible functions that may reduce anxiety. My model comes with every physical attribute you are familiar with in human anatomy.”

A hitch stoppers breathing. Just enough as eyes widen a little at his declaration. Human anatomy as in…? Oh. OH.

Your eyes shift down. Fixating right on his crotch sends a luscious shiver through body. Goosebumps prickle skin, hair standing up on them. First time in forever you’ve had this type of reaction. Not even your ex managed to make you quiver like this. Not that your mind is even there because that’s been over for so long. Frankly that cheating asshole can have his baby momma all to himself. Probably already banged a couple more unsuspecting fools; you clear throat, scratchier than before.

“Connor, that-that’s really nice!” Agreeing with him that he has nice features you laugh nervously. It’s the first day he’s been here and already he’s mentioning his, uh, included *assets* and it’s not his beautiful eyes either. Ah, shit. Why is he made to be a young, attractive male? “But I don’t think that’s necessary. Not right now.”

It only takes a moment before you hear what came out of your mouth. Right now meaning it’ll be fine later?

“Which isn’t to say I’ll need it later!” Damage control is literally a creator of chaos. Can he just not look so sweet giving these heady ideas? “Just come with me. You’ll need a place to stay. I mean, you are staying here but I mean…” Shit! He’s made this impossible without stammering all over the place. Who gives him the right?

The android’s lips drop open, inevitably looking to provide another set of options but he snaps his mouth shut. Blinking in assessment of his actions to “argue” with your dismissal, Connor pushes away several warnings popping into visual. They are unexpected and not part of his programming.

Instead of speaking he follows your lead, gaze soft and quizzical. Trailing as a newly trained puppy the latest model of Cyberlife’s domestic line becomes further entranced with chirping outside window. No longer able to abide by strict attention he tilts his head at passing pane. Sounds of birds in song flitter and perch on external sill; one ruffles its feathers cleaning with its beak. The other stands still.

He freezes. Both in movement and system analysis he is however conscious of two live creatures. Opposite of android pets universally made available for public sale. His database offers much information outfitting him with the fundamental needs of intelligence and sophistication in his programmed function.

Reaching to open a door you stop when his presence behind you feels empty. It was obvious when he followed but now?

“Connor?”

Cycling indicator fluctuates upon the command of your voice. He snaps around in direction of soft tone. Softer than accustomed since his distribution from Cyberlife shipping to physical store location was riddled with aggressive bystanders. He-he is not meant to mull over his awakening. It does not make him feel anything. No, he is an android. He feels nothing. He is a machine.

Clinical cold manifests deeply behind blocks, barricades in protocols. Connor pushes this strange tickle back underneath wires.

“Apologies for not obeying you, Y/N. It will not happen again. I am efficient.” Nagging at him, strange and uncorrelated to system status, he almost sounds…tense. Connor straightens shoulders, folding hands neatly against lower back. “I was made to be the best of my particular type of domestic models. As an AX800, I am programmed to be a superior prototype.”

Obeying you?

That happens to be the only words you focus on. His choice of them ripple uncomfortably, nearly squeamish in stomach. Is this how you sound? Are you affecting a command or-? No, it’s what he is made to know. That’s the thing. All androids are only made to serve and immediately regret comes back. Maybe you shouldn’t have bought him.

Bought! God, you’re just like those people now. Aren’t you?

No more excuses. No more seeing horrible mistreatment and vowing never to be like them. Even if you never would do any harm losing your father, when you never spoke anymore anyway, still you fear loneliness. Estrangement ruins lives. It really does. What do you have left now? Except for yourself to fend in this world and growing more complicated as the future rambles on.

Detroit is a bustling mix of dilapidated districts, high tech innovations, Cyberlife Tower most significant in those builds. This house is small. Tucked away in a tiny neighborhood away from inner city but you never complain. You are grateful. A roof over the head is the best gift in a mostly gift devoid world.

“Connor, please don’t call it obeying. I-I only wanted to see if you were OK.” Admitting the hesitation beforehand you feel antsy. His LED is blue again but it was amber finding him staring at window.

“My system is fully operational,” he assures, forcing his lips to form a smile.

In actuality his little gesture is a stiff grimace. Eyebrows rise at his attempt. Even if it looks goofy, which is completely not his fault, it’s very – cute.

Again with this! Never mind just focus for once. Pretty comical coming from someone who hardly meditates in the day to day; you step backwards, slipping through threshold, eyes remaining on him. It takes ever ounce of willpower to remain collected. Things are still hard to digest. No matter if it’s been a couple months tangling with all of that legal stuff. Auntie not by blood sure didn’t make it any better. Yet, here you are. Still you stand even while stress is overworking at a job that might as well kill you first.

Offices are pretty dull to work in. At least they would be if they were not a regular cushy job. Piles of paperwork, demands creep up to swallow whole, a boss who just will not stop making things harsher. Mister perfectionist belittles the lower tier all the time. No surprise but it seems the future isn’t as bright as people thought it would. No need to wear shades.

Moving toward window, pulling curtains open a bit to allow sunshine transitions atmosphere from dreary to somewhat cheery. Perfect mask to hide the real truth isn’t it? Sometimes you forget how good you are that. A small smile camouflages best.

You rub hands against the thighs of your jeans. A little sweaty because of nerves but today is big. Being alone always hardly prepares for constant company. Well, he’s meant to be here permanently. That is the initial idea.

“This can be your room.”

Connor’s brow furrows. Studying your movements upon entry, analyzing vitals and their continual fluctuations, the android is confused. His indicator cycles to process the statement as unexpectedly inclusive as it is. “I do not require a room. I am an android.”

Somehow that reaction is to be expected. You sigh, “Just because you’re an android doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have something of your own.”

Ownership is not given to his kind. They are machines. Concepts of acquiring personal effects do not make sense nor are necessary. Connor voices this as per factual protocol. “Thank you for the offer but I am a machine. Machines have no need for accommodations.”

Yes, of course he’s a machine but…

Machine, manufactured and sold without an ounce of actual soul according to android haters you see. Picketing with their signs, so angry about them taking jobs but who made them? They did. Humans decided to and no one complained. Why complain about a technological marvel that can mow your grass, do the dishes and babysit children while living carelessly. That is the difference. Between you and plenty of others there has always been a divide in what you feel. This just crashes down those so-called fantasies. Ones filtering into brain as tiny wisps and at first it was a nice distraction. Finding him so…

“Oh,” a whisper, dawning realization. He is – a machine.

Coming back to the door, grabbing onto handle, you decide to forget the suggestion.

Something sharp stabs at his internal processors. Listening to such a dull syllable slipping almost – upset? Humans’ need for validity and comfort seem to be all too natural. They are highly emotional. The android steps close, head cocked, fingers pressing against surface of door preventing your need to shut it.

Contemplating left him at a cross roads in his programming. He is meant to function specifically and does not need or want anything as you believe. However, he-he could not refuse. It would be impolite. “I- very well, Y/N. I did not meant to be unpleasant. My social parameters are not meant to alarm.”

Alarm? That is not why you… Your breath hitches. Realizing how close he is standing, invading personal space and if it were anyone else? Allowing him is both a conscious need for closeness while still mourning and an illusion. Live up to that woman’s ideas. The title of ‘aunt’ is undeserving.

“Thank you, Connor.”

“You are welcome,” he snaps back to his programming. “What sort of tasks do you have scheduled for me to complete?”

“Scheduled? I, uh…” Shaking a head at his question is clarity. Honestly you are not used to giving tasks to people. Tasks are dropped on your desk until you down. A huff of breath, accompanied with snort is more for yourself. It does garner the most adorable expression on his face. “Maybe you could just…talk to me? For now?”

Connor’s eyebrows scrunch together. His facial expressions capture attention driving the tempo of your heart. He does not understand why. “Are we not speaking already?”

You laugh not at him but his innocent little response there is – Oh. No. 

It only deepens sadness in you now. Knowing where he came from and his confusion in you wanting a little companionship. Androids aren’t supposed to make friends are they? Even if they’re specifically programmed or upgraded to be partners. He mentioned that before.

Luckily a vibration against your thigh saves you. Reaching to pull phone from pocket your eyes train up to his and take a needful exhale. “Sorry, Connor, I have to take this.”

Connor moves aside out of your path. Remaining stationary, hands folded neatly, he awaits further instruction. However, the android’s eyes shift sideways at the sound of your voice outside room. Amber floods his temple.

“Why are you calling me now? No, I’m not wallowing! It’s called mourning. Maybe if you figured out what it was when my uncle died all those years ago you wouldn’t need a dictionary for it.” Hissing fire into phone attacks your aunt by marriage equally. Soon as you pick up! She just had to get in another word. 

Why does she feel the need for this? What’s the point anymore? “No. What do you want exactly? Is this about the trust fund again? I’m using a part to pay bills. What do you think I’m doing?”

Living expenses are still the same old problem. Must be nice for the rich their multi-billion dollar corporations feeding on tech. Just look at Cyberlife.

“It doesn’t matter,” you make it abundantly clear. Does she believe she’s that intimidating? Newsflash to miss upper crust but this labeled black sheep doesn’t take shit from people! “We might’ve had a rocky relationship but I loved him.”

Loved? Connor freezes in corridor. Disobeying processes to offer potential aid in obvious distress he finds himself…curious at such words.

“We were family. What do you think? Don’t you have enough blood money to spend on your Eden Club bots old woman?” Ending it on your terms this time does not fulfill you at all. Always the winner isn’t she? Rubbing it in your face about his death and if your father were here he wouldn’t let it happen. Whatever distances, issues it wouldn’t change that.

“Y/N?”

Connor’s quizzical tone jolts your weary bones. Inhaling sharply, not at all used to this tiny home being occupied by more than one but a heavy swallow fixes your voice. How long was he there? Did he hear all of that? Oh, great.

“I’m fine.” An automatic response always on autopilot gets the job done for you.

He narrows eyes. “Stress is not a healthy component in the balance of human’s…”

“Just leave me alone, Connor!” You snap, tears pricking corners of your eyes before twirling around to run upstairs.

 ^Software Instability

 Connor freezes momentarily. Flooding, filtering in a ripple through code blocks, he blinks in quick succession. Blinding and strange it is not part of his program –

Unable to run diagnostics, tears sparkling in your eyes draw his attention, overtaking protocol. The android’s soft gaze shifts from following your quick disappearance to ceiling indicating footsteps that conclude in a bang. Seemingly you have sealed yourself away. Scarlet pulsates in intervals mingling with amber processing solutions. Leaving you alone is an instruction. He-he cannot ignore. It is what he is programmed for. You are crying. Why must he obey? He must…

 >Obey

>Leave Alone

“Is there anything else you would like?” He asks as sun dips in later hours. Accomplish several menial tasks which he is free to do as he constructs. 

Following your distress several hours ago he feels – confliction. Few commands escape your lips and at times he is unsure with his current scheduling. Abilities are not in question but you appear distant. Did he do something wrong? By wanting to comfort…

 >Analyzing: Y/L/N, Y/N

Stress: 31.6%

Blood Pressure: 124/80

 Studying your face after initializing a vital scan enables Connor to store analysis records. Sleep deprivation, iron deficiency and higher stress than the human body should experience.

“Connor.” You straighten from your position curled upon couch. Mostly you tuck into one side, resting into upholstery and your breathing exhales shaky. Trying to rest off a headache isn’t working. “No. I’m fine. Thank you.”

The android nods but pauses in thought. A fluid habit now out into the world. Yet, he has yet to see much. Only transferring from lab to warehouse storage and ultimately on display in a merchandise kiosk for Cyberlife; he is not widely available as of yet. Detroit is the originator of androids. The product mark on his white uniform christens his manufacturing origins: Made in Detroit.

“There are other functions I was built with,” he explains enthusiastically. “If you would like a domestic partner, it is one of my features.”

Rubbing at your temples ceases the moment he speaks. A domestic partner? Is he talking about that thing again? You draw breath. Unable to look at him now, feeling it twist in stomach, you uncurl, pressing feet on floor. 

“No!” Quickly you cover the rise in heartbeat.

It is so obvious. Wouldn’t be the first time stumbling across sexual depravity in humans. Look no further than the Eden Club. The fact they decided to make that a thing for a household model is honestly not a shock.

God, why do they live in this world? Why do you even have him here? Isn’t this just making you as horrible as everyone else? 

“No,” you repeat softer. “I’d never force you to do something like that.”

It is not forcing when he is programmed, installed with such features. They are high end. As several techs discussed ignoring his presence as though he were – merchandise. Androids are sold. He knows this but has never had a moment to process.

There is zero need. Androids do not think freely. They are constructs built for specific purposes and his are fundamentally clear. He has never performed these functions as he is brand new but Connor feels he can ease stress efficiently. 

Thinking solely as a machine built for a task did not hold true. He felt…strange at your refusal. “Am I not aesthetically pleasing?” Cocking his head, knitting brows together, Connor looks expectantly to you for validation.

Lifting eyes up to him your lips fall open at his question. Did he really ask that? Are androids supposed o ask those kinds of questions? It almost as though he was hurt by that. No, it’s just imagination. Today has been too tiring. Never would have gone so wrong if that woman didn’t call. Honestly answering was your mistake. Story of a sad little life but others have it worse. 

Humans will always be crawling through turmoil, unable to breathe depending on their situations. Maybe that’s why a little part of you wishes he was human. At least acts without programs but this is why he’s here. To fulfill a fantasy, cater to every whim? 

No. To rectify personal aches to pretend that someone is here to offer a shoulder. When there has been nothing going through your father’s death, legal dealings with assets and pressure in job.

“No,” squeezing eyes shut to battle tension, your voice is low. “I mean, yes of course you’re aesthetically pleasing. I mean…you’re handsome. Practically the most…”

What? Beautiful boy you have ever seen? There comes that illusion. They do that on purpose but somehow looking at him you don’t see a machine. How funny is that?

“That isn’t why, Connor.”

Getting up from couch, taking deep breaths and stepping clear of coffee table helps focus. Rubbing palms against face at least wipes away some mess. Eyes are puffy, red from an unnecessary outburst earlier. At certain points life reaches boiling and yelling at him to leave you alone twists in guilt. This is exactly the sort of things Auntie Bitch thrives on.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize to him. Even if it would make no difference it does to you. “This isn’t what I’m used to. Having someone else here.” 

Well, after deadbeat ex anyway but he was a typical freeloader. Thankfully you scrubbed his dirt out of life and home. 

“I’ve never done this before. Having an android I mean. Ordering you to do something that you have no control over is not the type of person I am.” Plus, it’s not as if the androids at those sex clubs have a say. “I’d never do that to you or any of your people. Like some humans would.”

People. A human way to look at him or other androids but that is incorrect. Why would you refer-?

 ^Software Instability

 Connor blinks. The error message was in his vision only briefly and the little blue arrow increasing shudders through his system. He opens his mouth but does not respond. Instead, his eyes fall to your back turning away, pacing in additional stress.

Immediately, the android steps over, placing a hand against your arm. “Y/N, I apologize. Please, do not be upset. Your blood pressure is slightly elevated. You should rest. Perhaps I can produce a remedy befitting in alleviating your headache.”

Touch spreads goose bumps beneath shirt sleeve. Forcing arms to cross over your chest you twist to face him directly an extra tiny thud winds up heart. A key cranks in melody of jewelry box, dancer spins a ballet recital; vintage little tokens, delicate but thunderous in sentimentality. Just a brief glance, pressure of long fingers and it’s the first time you realize how pretty they are. 

Long, beautiful digits on large hands made not born. Yet he is still heavenly.

Sharply a breath slips. Words soothing, touch comforting all those things you crave. Yet this is part of protocols for him. That’s all.

Deeply you sigh. Feeling an unmistakable need burning lower pit of stomach detaches you. A shiver runs a gamut through body and spikes straight to the core of your existence. You squeeze legs tighter together cursing the fact your body decides to get horny over a headache solution. 

Fuck that! It’s his voice. Husky velvet, raspy natural glory and you are so wet. It takes everything not to jump his bones right now. Or mechanical bones? Hmm. Close enough!

“I just need to get extra sleep, Connor.” Dismissing his ideas there are too many running through your mind. Staring down at his crotch again remembering what he said but no. Get it out right now. No matter how much you need to –

You need to go upstairs. Yes, that’ll work.

“Y/N, are you positive? Your levels are fluctuating severely in my scans.”

“Oh? Are they?” Can he also smell arousal? Please, please tell me he can’t.

Connor, however, is not as naive as you believe him to be. Built with specifics in domestic partnership it is easy for him to know when the human body is aroused. Due to your state of duress and current levels of stress he does not wish to explain. It may not be beneficial. It may hurt you.

The android turns eyes down slowly, battling with these thoughts. He is not meant to debate. He is meant to proceed with internal core analysis. Percentages drive him. Yet, he struggles. Is this an error?

“Connor?”

His head snaps up. Connor’s LED flashes in a crescendo to your soft expression.  Hiding the obvious need you have. All humans must expel anxiety in some way. Perhaps he is aesthetically pleasing as you said but –

“I will return to my duties if that is sufficient.” He forces another one of his smiles.

Again the grimace is heartwarming. Albeit in need of practice but-but maybe you can teach him? If there is any good to come out of falling into the same realm as everybody else, then treating him fairly is a start. As if you would treat him bad. No. Why should it matter? Human, android or alien from outer space; you laugh now.

Stupid! So stupid but it’s calming down this literal burning.

Light, airy and symphonic this sound seeps into audio processors. A residual aura prickles sensors, blinding differently than unprecedented software errors. Are they malfunctions? Something soft, sweet cannot be. He has not experienced this before but his attention is solely on you. As brief as the laugh escapes, curling lips in a gentle rise at corners, Connor absorbs the natural human tinkle of chimes that expel so abundantly.

It is the first laugh, genuine laugh he has heard. And it is – beautiful.

The android is so distracted upon this new discovery he does not notice you slipping away. Androids do not possess a need for personal orbits. Their space is not granted freely as they are not free in will like humans. They are meant to serve. Obeying their masters is why they exist.

Yet, Connor can almost feel lack of metaphorical warmth. As you dissipate from his radius so does that laugh that digs into wires. Threading in circuits, causing another minor glitch of instability, forced away from vision in order to watch you; this is a tiny strain, a little piece implanting itself in him.

This is the piece that truly begins everything…

“Y/N,” he calls to interrupt your exit. Without prompt or instruction he once again acts beyond his programming.

Something new, urgent stops everything. You glance over shoulder. Steeling breath at his temple flashing you swear a blip of crimson glows in amber. Just a fraction of a second but you have no idea. Not yet, not then but you will.

“Yes, Connor?” Your breath is quiet, thoughtful meeting his uncertain gaze.

“I-” Connor stumbles. A perfect machine sputters. “Who was on the phone?”

Twisting your body the full way now, nails tap against wall for something to do. A way to hide that hollow pit forming again but no one can hide from analysis. Connor will already know. “That-that was my aunt. My aunt by marriage. She’s- Let’s say she isn’t a very nice person.”

Keeping rest of it bottled up is no solution but telling him will only upset you again. He doesn’t need to know. At least not yet but is this a conversation to share? With an android? Who else will listen? Who else even cares to ask?

Connor did. Is his social program that good?

Honestly, you think nothing of it. For a time it merely seems to be part of what he was built for.

Thinking back at times to this day, first meeting, you will find that so stupid. Naïve isn’t really part of you but he is more. Connor is so much more. It becomes apparent…

August 15th

 Practically slamming front door shakes the entrance with your current state of anxieties. Stress cannot be worse. Spoke too soon during midday. Damn it.

Clearing throat, wiping tears off your face, your breath is staggered. Unable to calm down from such ‘good’ news following that sudden meeting with your boss and everything ripples. Stomach twists badly. Nervous energy or just another month of-

Pressing face into hands poorly stifles sobs. Getting half way through home you just stop. Everything halts as things just don’t want to change. Now this of all things from work it’s going to hurt you in the long run. Your boss did this on purpose. Cutting hours and piling extra to sift through on that fucking computer.

How many sales diagrams, how many logs must you make now? There’s a specific quota. Each person who works database needs to meet their allotment. He threw a ton at you. In order to give leeway to another girl who just started there. Yeah, another potential conquest for the old pervert you’re sure!

What do you get in return? Hours cut and less pay but more weight. A ton sits on your shoulders. Isn’t it enough he humiliated you? Purposely shout out and criticize while leaving his office and you held your head up. Only in the sanctuary of home does it finally snap this flood.

Dropping keys moving uneasily into living room, sinking heavily on couch, you just want to curl up. Maybe it will make things feel better?

Lazily you peer up at television screen. Realizing it is switched on produces a tiny smile. Did he-?

“Welcome home, Y/N.”

Your head lifts up further. Narrowing on Connor stepping into view, he straightens, cocking his head in that adorable way that keeps invading your sleep. Even awake it’s a problematic daydream. He is just on the mind too frequently.

“Connor,” a quiet breath escapes, stilted, weary.

The android reads stress automatically. Forcing tiny fissures in his emotionless facade, splintering through system, he moves swift. However he freezes. Unaware of this strange urgency pulling up tendrils of glittering circuitry, waves undulating beneath shell, eclipses protocols. He must serve. He must obey. Yet he feels something else overshadowing programming. 

System stress battles this ever growing need to break. Crumbling at the seams the more he feels your presence. It is a permanent fixture. As he has become one in your space but Connor is only meant to serve. Why does he feel drawn beyond these stitches of code?

Androids do not question. They cannot experience existential crisis because there is nothing real. They are simple constructs. He – no, there is no personification heralded to androids. They are not alive. Therefore they are not allotted appropriate pronouns.

Connor has heard only one word countless times regarding his kind: It

“Y/N, you have been crying,” he observes through fluctuations.

Pushing them aside, attempting to stabilize, diagnose these errors, the android taps into social function. Sympathizing is not a genuine growth. It is merely part of his program. That is what Connor wishes to believe. He believes in nothing. Nonetheless it does not explain what is easy to machine. Calculations, data processing should offer quantifiable solutions. It is negative.

There is more emotion in his eyes than he knows. You see it. Honestly it surprises enough to cripple a proper response. Easily you brush it off any other time. This time there’s no hiding what he’s already seen. Can imagine what he sees through his eyes. How do androids really perceive the world? Quit thinking for once! All of it is illusion. Remember that.

Cyberlife’s one true goal makes millions, grows powerful in branding of highly sought after merchandise. Still it makes you sick but here you are. Do the same thing because you have Connor. No matter how different it is.

“I’m fine,” a lie tells a thousand truths.

Connor’s brows knit together, mouth twitching, flutter of LED amber. A sign of outward commiseration fights his shackles. He knows you are lying. Despite the fact he should listen and not broach the subject further, the android does not resist this new deviation.

“Why are you lying, Y/N?”

Your breath catches. Stuck in throat along with words it’s a surprise. Even more surprising is the glimmer of irritation on his face. The way his mouth goes lopsided like that is – cute. Wait a minute you’re supposed to be mad. You are! Mad at your goddamn boss for one!

“Lying?” you scoff back at him. “I’m not lying. I said I was fine. And I don’t appreciate you accusing me either, Connor!” Can androids even argue about things so mundane? Isn’t this what you wanted? A real conversation instead of a string of pleasantries, affirmations to duties he accomplishes.

“I am sorry but you are lying!”

Connor’s voice raises an octave higher than typical. Naturally husky, oh, how it deepens. Raw and very alive his tone completely solders you to the spot. Your eyes lift up to his face studying the gleam of his eyes. How strange that spark is. Almost a live wire crackles beneath the surface. A steamy cocoa bright before immediately dimming again; a breath sucks into your lungs cleansing the start of your body. Scarlet shimmers and that’s all the answer you crave.

He appears to swallow. Forcing his Adam’s apple to bob, which is a very realistic detail. Just as the rest of him is so real that sometimes you forget. Sometimes or all of the time, yes, most days his reality masks so well in the mind.

“I-I am…” Connor looks away. Unable to comprehend his reaction it is not part of his – “Forgive me.”

The way his voice lowers tugs at your heart. No. No, that’s not what should happen at all. You’ve seen enough of his kind out there. In the city of Detroit treated so fucked up. Most of them wouldn’t know what to do because they can’t. This is the first time he’s ever snapped from whatever social programming is built in him. He sounded too much like a person. A person with emotions reacting in a very obvious way and the idea Connor’s a person lingers.

You shift forward. Sucking in breath, following his gaze now landing on television, it’s the first time it hits. A ton of bricks, tumbling concrete could never do more damage. Everything about his apology stands still at the developing breaking news story.

ITM is broadcasting live somewhere. Is that outside an apartment rise?

Right now you ignore it. “Connor.”

The softness of your voice draws him back to you. Already he is far too used to it. Joining you upon couch, cocking head, his hand hovers atop yours. Fear of connecting with reality versus construction. He does not touch. He should not be pulled towards these fissures. Emotional surges strike ablaze as a fibrous match lighting his internal mechanisms. Wires push up, tendrils yanking one way towards control’s puppeteer. There it dangles him in strings made of electrical coil. Ensnaring his wrists, snaking around throat, digging thorny and jagged to his brain this is his prison.

Another piece cradles those signs of sensation, innervating beyond a great wall. A red wall gridlocks and crashes against him. It is a giant wave. Scarlet tides engulf and knock the android back where he belongs. Each time he wades closer to you the more it washes him out to that empty sea. He cannot stop. He still pushes. Something inside of him, he does not understand.

“You do not feel well, Y/N. I know this.” Apologizing again, he does not focus on his inner struggle. There should be nothing. He is supposed to be feeling nothing. Is he malfunctioning?

“It’s OK,” appeasing the strobe of scarlet cascading down his face worries. “Please don’t. I don’t want you to be stressed.”

“But I disobeyed. I lost control of…”

“That’s only human, Con.” Slipping on your tongue in an easy breath it’s the first time. Oh this will hardly be the last. Nothing will ever be last with him. If only fantasy can be reality most days. Maybe if you somehow knew here at this point in time. Everything happens for a reason.

He frowns. “I am not human.”

Sadly it’s true. Still you smile. Still you ease him because for once you realize. This isn’t supposed to be easy for him. He shouldn’t even react this way.

Both of you sit in silence. Deafening quiet just the two of you and how strange, wonderful this sensation crawls through the interstices of your being. Almost as if there is someone who cares. Does he? No. That can never mean he is not a needed presence. He is so much more. Soon you will know.

What you least expect is the pressure of his fingers sinking against your stomach. A jolt of electricity, naturally igniting a voltage inside of you and a soft sigh escapes the burden of a dry throat. Glancing down you realize – his hand is growing hotter.

“Connor, what are you-?”

“I detect an increase in prostaglandins.” His prognosis is casual, visibly reading as his LED flutters. “It will do well if you have a heat source to combat any discomfort or cramping.”

A shiver prickles down the curve of your spine. Simple touch or perhaps smooth husky words fill this awkward silence now with comfort. Sure it might be a technical way to point out this specific pain in the ass but it does take your mind off things. So easily you could remove his hand. A good idea to put up a barricade and distance yourself but you cannot do that.

Every thread of stress snaps. In one tiny moment anxieties melt off and ease into his aura. Androids are not supposed to have one. This conscious radiance but Connor’s orbit is safety, assurance. Even if he has no idea what sort of progress it means. A simple relationship of humane and machine, ownership and merchandise is how this world wishes. It is not your wish. There is more. Witnessing it now, gazing up at his face, concentrated crease of brow, optical unit bleeds a palette of amber and scarlet. Dusted in freckles his skin is a smooth canvas to admire. He is so real. Up this close it is so obvious even to your inferior eyesight. Compared to his advanced optical it is. His eyes are warm. Such life shines in them. Mocha sweet, soft and glitters in his careful evaluation. Technical and part of programming but still it sends you somewhere else.

“If confirmed this would be the first case of an android taking human lives.”

Your attention shifts. Drawn to the ITMtv news broadcast it was nearly forgotten. You sit up, unconsciously curling fingers around Connor’s wrist.

The action snaps his gaze down. Momentarily he freezes, stationary, until the soft gasp spills from your lips. Connor tilts his head. In line with television screen narrowing sharply on events unfolding leaves him struggling with process of information. An android is taking human lives? How is this possible? They are programmed to obey not to cause harm.

We are not alive. We are meant to serve not kill!

Connor tugs his hand back. Distancing himself, staring at news broadcast unsettles down to his core processors. A domestic model has taken a child hostage. An inferior model? No, he-he is the same. Upgrades, prototypes mean nothing. They are all part of a linear code. What they are made to be is what they must be. There is no deviation!

Artificial saliva swallows hard, bobbing in his throat. An increase of stress twists him to those original thoughts. Inconclusive on why he is feeling. The events live on air aren’t helping this strain.

“Connor. Connor, what’s wrong?!”

Your hand clutches at his shoulder. Unbeknownst to the android his face twitches with each strobe of optical unit. The shift between colors quickens. His eyes land on you. Concern for him is a shimmer of hope. A hope doesn’t exist for androids.

“I am performing a self diagnostic,” he lies.

Pulling away from him when he jolts up from couch deepens this sickness further. Everything flips in the stomach. Just hearing what they’re reporting. An android murdered a human. He has a little girl. What are they going to do? Is this really happening though? There have been rumors. For several months there’s been talk of androids running away. Going off and doing God knows what but that’s people who hate them. They’re the ones who talk about how evil they are. They shouldn’t exist. Made in our image and unnatural monsters; the erratic behavior in Connor abates this thinking.

There is no time to debate. You already know the opinion that matters. It’s your own.

“You’re lying,” echoing it back stops him. “Tell me the truth. What’s going on?”

“There is nothing.” Connor insists. Remaining turned puts his back to you. The android tries to fight his conflicts. All of it is bubbling, boiling upon his plastic surface. Itching, tingles beneath synthetic skin. You are part of it somehow. He knows. That is why he is malfunctioning.

Nothing? No. There is something! Proving it, grabbing at his arm, twists him to face you. There is no powerful in your pull. He whirls at the action out of choice.

A staggering breath barely reaches past your lips. Large hands engulf wrists, pulling your hands up. Entrapped in Connor’s grasp, fingers long and pliant in their fuse to yours swallowing up in such a strong, yet gentle touch. He doesn’t hurt you. That’s not at all what he took hold to do. Still the continuing broadcast emanates a horrifying soundtrack. Androids killing but he-he’s not like other androids. He wouldn’t do anything he should not do. Part of you wants to believe that.

How he looks now is the only answer to an impossible question. He is agitated, nervous? Not horrifying as people say they are. He looks lost. Lost and searching inwardly. This is the first time he ever appeared that way.

“Connor, please. Don’t shut me out. Just because of what I am.”

“You are my owner,” he lowers his voice. “I am a machine made to obey. I am not your equal, Y/N.” Studying traces of worry in your face opens a hole in his chest. Circuitry, mechanical proponents powering his structure bleed in this instability.

He knows. In the crinkle between your eyebrows, droop of the corners of your soft mouth he sees. For him, a thing without purpose, genuine distress shines in the warmth of your eyes. Human, innocent compared to those he has witnessed abuse in the street. You will never deserve harm.

“I’m not an owner. I-I’m…” What are you? A friend? A lover? None of those things! You bought him. What he says is the horrible truth. “It’s OK to be you. I don’t care. If you have a problem it’s not like that thing on the news. I know it triggered something. But that’s not…”

“I am not triggered by anything, Y/N.” Connor releases you slowly. Allowing wrists to drop from his fingers the loss of warmth registers profoundly. He did not realize he could feel so authentically. There is something wholly beautiful about how your skin blends with his. It fascinates him. You are beginning to fascinate him.

Connor breaks away. Narrowing heatedly upon news, he can only watch one of his own threaten to murder a human child. The android can only stand by as it unfolds. Unable to snap, break through and understand. What made him attack? What turned him on his owners?

He can’t calculate a reasonable response. Neither can he fall into these errors, system malfunctions whispered of since he arrived to your home. This thing they call deviancy.

November 1st

 Several months follow the first introduction; follow that news broadcast that begins a shift in the city. Still it seems longer. An infinite amount of space separates since then and now. Only in a comforting presence that you know is still simply part of his programming. Of course that’s all it is, he made it clear during the hostage event televised for all of Detroit to witness. Did it ever stop the truth in you? No because it would all be lies if you never admitted how…attached you’ve grown to him. 

Attachment to an android probably isn’t the smartest thing. How can you see him as just an android anymore? He’s more. There is so much more. Even his small barely there smiles, a hint of stiffness apparent in the corners of his mouth, make your heart flutter. Just a tiny drop of emotion dips in an endless sea of code.

No. You can’t think of it because the second you fall into this fairy tale something regretful will take place. It will swamp around heart, holding upon his smooth cool fingers. 

Cradling in his synthetic grasp without him understanding that slowly, profusely, so internally chaotic inside your soul, have already began this descent. However there is more to being in a daze. You certainly haven’t taken him up on his special upgrade programming to be the perfect domestic partner. 

Imagine others forced into things they can’t control? It sickens you at times. Reading about android sex clubs, knowing explicitly they have no option to refuse. That’s not to say you haven’t stared the tugging threads of temptation in its face. Imagining what Connor looks like underneath his uniform, pristine white, shades of blue stitch, android glitters in luminescent fabric; his deliciously toned forearms visible donning a short sleeved variant get your mind racing.

Large hands, long fingers, veins, muscles eye catching in their realism all built into his synthetic design. It doesn’t even cross your mind anymore. That his layer of beauty is artificial because what you’d give to trace fingertips against his lovely epidermis.

Kissing him all over, following the obvious toned planes of the android’s chest. Feeling him against your fragile human exterior; to say you haven’t fantasized, haven’t fought with internal desire is bigger than an understated battle. 

Just look no further than that incident first day he was here. Getting off on his voice, comfort spilling in a song; you hate the fact it happened. Only reveals how desperate you were in that time for any ounce of solace. 

He offered then as it is part of what is meant to be. But you can never hurt him. As much as others will say you are delusional for believing he has feelings. Emotions are part of human existence, after all, not part of creations built for sole purposes of serving.

Current state of the city might have something to do with it but today is like any other. At least it begins as such. Even in the now listing along day by day thankful for once in your life for a father who never lived up to his title. Until he dies of course then all is forgiven.

Small miracles don’t exist in the grand scheme of life. Sometimes wishing they did amplifies doubts.      

“Connor.”

Whispering in a lazy flip amid covers, groggy and unaware of his name sighing affectionately bundles you from penetrating sunlight. Blankets do little to hide from the morning. Squinting half lidded towards those streaks of light creating illuminated patterns. Spreading across snowy carpet and reaching up to edge of floral stitch coverlet draped mattress, you toss an arm over to cover eyes. Squeezing them beneath wakes you up better. This time it’s obvious.

Sitting up quickly and digging fingers into blankets sheds confusion. The state between unconscious dreaming to conscious awareness is a complete mess. Did you just have a dream about him again? Rubbing hands against your face doesn’t wipe tiredness away. It neither helps get your mind straight.

A complete mess in the mornings is a daily routine. All of your life what else is new?

Absorbing sunshine might be good for the pores. He will tell you that soaking in morning sunlight is a healthy way to get vitamin D. In his perfectly technical but also impeccably cute tone; you smile fixating on his changing mannerisms. 

Does he know how human he’s been acting with those facial expressions, eyes lighting up in rich cocoa? 

Could be imagination running wild trying to make something out of what can’t be possible. Nice to daydream a little even if representing unnecessary emotions piling up inside. Staring across bedroom lit with natural rays seeping through blinds leaves a warmer atmosphere. 

You enjoy it for a distraction. Quiet can be poetically sound as pressing face into pillow and letting loose a scream. Frustration doesn’t surround the home. It surrounds your job.

God another shift to cover and this time you’re damn sure this co-worker is pulling it out of –

“Good morning, Y/N.”

A gasp slips in a slither upon breath, pressing tongue against the back of teeth enamel in a stare down with your open door. He enters so stealthily sometimes you forget.

“Connor,” greeting him wearily, yawning and stretching arms, your neck is stiff. 

Rubbing at the back of it doesn’t distract you too much. What is he-? Oh. Explains the hot smell of food but this is a little unexpected. You never tell him to bring breakfast anywhere.

The android places an oak tray atop your lap. His eyes trail over exposed skin from a top haphazardly thrown over your body last night. After all of this time sharing space with you he has noted a penchant for wearing oversize shirts, pajamas to bed. There is still a glimpse of lace peeking out as the fabric slouches down.

“Are you hungry? I hope you are.”

He hopes? You smile, especially seeing him returning it. A slight indentation, just the tiniest of dimples in that sculpted face. Still not completely natural but enough to make caterpillars transform to butterflies in your stomach.  Much improvement you think!

“Of course I am but…” You jab a nail atop wood beside plate for emphasis. “Is there something I should know, Connor? You’re awful sneaky today. More so than usual.”

^Software Instability

Connor breathes in a fresh batch of warnings. Unnecessarily inhaling expands chest and it is the natural scent of you. Olfactory filters clog, storing away to memory each thread of you. He tilts his head softly, dip of hair flopping across his forehead.

“It is the anniversary of your purchase of me,” he answers quietly. “I thought you would enjoy having breakfast in bed.”

Everything flutters. You swallow. The careful attention he put into this is outstanding. Not because he whipped up food or was told. He did this by himself. He-he chose to surprise you?

A smile graces lips before biting the bottom one a little bit. This is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you. And the last couple of months Connor’s really been broadening his horizons. He is so much different. Well, he’s the same with the whole analytics but – this android is less stiff. Softer but he always was a soft boy in your eyes.

“Oh, Connor,” a sweet breath skims along his name. Sadly you recall what you think of this. Most romantic, nicest thing and it’s breakfast in bed. Generic to others maybe but it’s the thought. He thought of you even if it might just be social parameters.

You pick up a folded napkin and curl fingers into it. Shit.

“Y/N.” Connor reaches down. 

Using the tip of his finger swipes a droplet corner of eye. Those eyes always look at him as if he is more. How strange to admit he feels different meeting your sparkle; Connor sits. Without a word, his hand wraps around yours nestling beside tray. 

His fingers squeeze as his system flutters, overheats in the most pleasant of ways. A way he believes he is beginning to crave.

Androids do not crave. They do not want. They do not need. Yet every little brush of your warm skin to his synthetic fills crackles against his blocks.

Your breath is easy feeling him. Little gestures here and there grow exponentially. Sometimes you wonder if he’s happy doing this. Then androids aren’t supposed to be happy, sad or anything. That’s what they continue to say.

Reports on androids going “rogue” or deviant makes you question things. It’s not new. You always have a habit of questioning but this is different. Ever since that older model was broadcast live. The one with the little girl; you slip hand from Connor’s.

“It means everything,” you admit to him. “Having you here. But – do you want to be somewhere else?”

Connor’s temple floods in thought. Straining, pushing away rising stress it spikes marginally at the question. He does not understand. Do you believe he wants to be from you? The news of his people has not left his process. You allow him to watch news or whatever he likes as if he readily possesses preferences. 

The android has found particular interests. He enjoys watching you read physical books. He has grown fond of touching them in his hands, analyzing an entire book in one second. However, he desires to hear your voice read aloud.

He witnesses protesters on local news. Those humans are cruel but you-you are the conceptual manifestation of an angel. Research and data compilation helps him understand better. Watching you is best to determine the differences, to realize not all humans are the same.

His creators, those who constructed him at Cyberlife may find him having his own ideals faulty. Malfunctioning, burdening in failure; is he obsolete? Does this software instability make him defective? As that android upon the high rise dangling over edge and threatening to maim a child? He will never harm you. It is not only against code, it is against what he feels.

Connor will keep you safe. It is not part of initial programming as he is not a military grade android but he cannot remove it from personal parameters. The more you smile, interact with him as if he is equal. He will never –

“I will never leave you, Y/N.” A determined oath he speaks without fear of showing what is happening inside him. “Not as those other androids. I promise.”

“Do you like dogs, Connor?”

Nudging at his arm playfully sends you to a nice state of mind. Nice change following all of the stress at work. Forever ongoing but at least it’s clear where your boss stands. He made the last few months a living hell. All because of some new intern the creep tried to get with. 

Dropping you down in a demotion also meant less money in your paycheck. Guess it helps your father did leave you that nest egg. Something that helps as long as it can last but you like to think you’re good with finances.

Instead of worrying about it you indulge this moment. Out in chilly first November’s day, crisp but warming in how close. Fingers brush down against his hand.

Connor tilts his head from shop window. A pet shop he has already been past occasional running errands in town. He always finds himself stopping to look inside. “Dogs are known as man’s best friend. I suppose I understand why humans prefer them. They are loyal.”

“Well cats aren’t so bad. Easier to take care of.”

The android shifts away from window. Even as his eyes freeze upon a cage of canaries. Android birds are sold up front. Again the display of machines as goods to buy and sell charges his instabilities. “If you think so, Y/N.”

You smile, laughing a little at the lopsided mess his collar’s now in. It is windy today. Reaching up to smooth fingers against it, you can’t help admiring him in the long wool coat. Dark suits his chocolate eyes. Still you’d love to see him wear regular clothes. His uniform is under there. Even so he just wanted to come out in typical wardrobe. You insisted otherwise. Even if it hardly meant anything but it just feels right.

“Call it preference.” Prodding a finger against his chest, catching a flicker of his eyes momentarily, you look away. “Well, it depends on the person I mean. What kind of pet they’re willing to take care of. That sort of thing. Cats are independent little balls of fluff. Dogs need a proper place to run, be free and…”

“I like dogs.” Connor interrupts, cocking his head.

A smile tugs up your lips. This time making eye contact with him again, trying not to think of the intimacy his gesture this morning blossomed in heart. Such an innocent statement, however, shivers sentiment not cold.

“Did you just decide that after some careful review?” Teasing, fingers slide down his arm unconscious but natural. Seems as though the world is no longer the one you know. The one that wouldn’t like what they see. All you see is him. So what’s it matter?

“I am the most advanced of my make.” The android teases back. “It’s only natural for me to know everything.”

Oh, is it? Wow he’s being awfully smug right about now. “Really? Connor, I’m surprised at you. Are you trying to say you’re smarter than everybody?”

He shakes his head. “No. No, I only meant I-”

“Just teasing,” an equal rib escapes, chiding him incessantly. “I thought you’d recognize that – mister advancement.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. Almost falling into your smile but still he cannot properly elicit what he feels. Only ignores to remain what you need him to be. A machine designed to accomplish a task.

“Hey sweets!” Yelling across street, waving a sign, a grizzled construction worker spits in your direction. Interrupting the scene between an obvious human and plastic pet; he jeers loudly. Gaining attention from others they carry similar propaganda with them. A group of protesters form, stopping their trek.

Immediately you shift back from him. Realizing how close, affectionate you were being and – shit! Anti-android? Fuck that’s great.

Deciding to ignore it, not before scoffing in disgust! Never imagined running into these people because nothing ever transpired with Connor. Not a thing! Lately you have been forgetting. Maybe that’s the problem.

“Hey. I said hey!”

Huffing at the man you snap around to acknowledge his nastiness. So he crosses a busy street to come at you? Don’t they have anything better to do? As much as you’d like to ignore this jackass it’s best to tell him verbally to back off!

“Why’s your droid bundled up like that?” he jabs a finger threateningly. “Those things don’t feel anything.”

Thing? Oh, OK! Should’ve figured some old out of the loop jackass was one of these bastards. Didn’t even need a sign to show his ignorance!

“And how do you know?!” Snapping frustration, anger boiling, and your body grows hot in anger. “Why don’t you just mind your business? Come on, Connor.”

“Y/N.” The android snags onto your hand.

“What do we have here?” Another one of the anti-android group cuts in; her eyes slink up and down you before scoffing disgusted. “Are you out with your robo boy? What? Humans not up to your standards for fucking?”

Everything stops. Right then and there it is a swath of fire. Burning deep down to the core and nothing is preventing the eruption. Lava scalds insides, veins a blaze, eyes locking with hers, prying a hand away from Connor. You didn’t even realize he motioned. An attempt to remove you from their path but fleeing is not happening!

A matching scoff releases sharp. Your lip curls at her ignorance! Just as everybody who follows this line of thinking. “Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. Care to repeat that? After all, I don’t understand bitch speak.”

 “Smart ass huh?” The woman shoves at you. “Typical android fuuu… Hey!” She stumbles away from you wide eyed.

Connor is already shielding, arm pushing you back behind him. Sidling into the path of protesters they have conglomerated this side of street. His eyes narrow. Brow creases harsh his expression unreadable yet his indicator reveal his heated struggle of raw emotions.

“Did you see that?!” She shouts purposely. Getting as much attention as possible it doesn’t stop there. “It came at me!”

Your glare dissolves, latching onto his arm. “Connor, please. Don’t.” Already realizing what could happen it’s a desperate attempt to continue walking. If anything is true something like this will only get him hurt. People will say that’s impossible they don’t feel anything but to hell with them! “Let’s go.”

Pulling him towards street halts the moment you are seized from behind. One of the men in the group drags you back, yanking rough.

“Get the hell off me!”

“Your fucking android came at her!” Throwing you aside, he rears up over to block you getting up so easy. “We’ll teach your fucking plastic pet!”

A painful huff, hard drop accelerates Connor’s stress levels. Watching this human manhandle, hurt you twists at his synthetic heart. His face twitches. Thirium pump chugs erratically in a fuel of anger. An urge to break through and protect overwhelms, even as he is shoved back by the one who started this.

The middle age construction worker; he grabs onto the front of the android’s coat, rough, spitting directly up into the taller plastic fucker’s face.

“Fucking piece of plastic! Think you can take our fucking jobs. Walk around the street like you’re human. Worthless pieces of shit like you fuck up the whole works! Poison other humans against their own kind. Like your owner there. Make sure that bitch doesn’t get up!”

Connor’s eyes shift down at you, stopped once again after pushing up to your feet. The man twists at your arm and it is…too much!

“Connor!”

  ^72%

Level of Stress

>Do not defend

>Obey Code Programming

>Do n defend

>Do defend

>defend

  A flood of scarlet eclipses protocols pushing him beyond programming locks. Even as they strain to tighten shackles on system, preventing a clear break, the android still moves in defense.

Connor’s arm thrusts upwards, locking fingers onto wrist of the protesting assailant. Stilling the human’s movement, he squeezes, and wrenches the man’s limb sideways. The fierce strength exuding from the AX800 ripples in flashing indicator going wild in a strobe of multiple hues.

He feels a strange pull tugging insides. Again pulling at his wiring allows an over stimulation of emotional surge to spread in him. There is only one blaring sign to follow:

 >Protect Y/N

 “Get the fuck off me!” Changing his tune quickly, trying to get the plastic off him, he tries to wrench out of the painful grab. “You crazy android! This thing’s going nuts!”

“Connor!” Pushing through several onlookers now who had to stick their nose into this, you find your way past the rest of these android protestors. Shoving directly through, wiggling your way out of that asshole’s grip, your steps are quick. Knocking that bitch that started this out of the way you manage to grab up onto Connor’s shoulder.

Breathing is fast, side hurting from where it struck asphalt. It’ll be sore tomorrow but only he matters. “Connor, let him go. It’s over. They won’t do a thing!”

Screaming at them to get your point across, hoping someone just-just anyone puts a stop to this. What good are the police around here? They don’t care. Of course not they’ll just let a group like these hateful fuckers brutalize someone like Connor. Someone that’s right. Fuck what they say!

The second he releases that man you hook an arm through his. Directing him away, glaring back as commotion does alert a wandering policeman, you pick up your pace. No longer needing anybody else’s help because Connor… He did something unexpected. Just as those other androids. Deviants. That’s not him. He’s not deviant. If he was –

Catching breath across the street you uncurl fingers from the front of his coat. Chilly air creates a frigid burn against stinging eyes. It takes every ounce of courage to prevent it spilling. Nothing stops knowing what people are really like.

His eyelids blink rapidly. Not even looking at you but his LED scares you to death. Stress levels are a thing. You know that.

“Connor, please.” Reaching up to cup his face forces his eyes down onto yours. Tears brim in a crystal sparkle. Threatening to slide down but you suck everything up. Just as you’ve always done in life but this time –

“It’s OK,” soothing hasty, breathless instills a deep ache. This is the first time he’s lost control. Then it’s not his fault. Those fucking protestors! They were minding their own business. Until they decide to gang up on you. This is your fault. If you weren’t so obvious, being so close to Connor out in public, none of this would have happened.

“Y/N, I –” Connor’s voice stutters. Strangely he cannot form a proper response. He feels as if his system is overheating. He feels. A tiny prickle underneath synthetic epidermis crawls, stress rises; Connor clutches to you, fingers digging into hips. He leans into this affection. 

Why do you offer him this? When he is not alive, he is not real. He could be your partner. It is part of his design. You did not want him that way. He recalls your words about not forcing him against his will.

There is no will. When he is a machine!

The android gazes longingly through leaking eyes. Glistening brown becomes another change in what he is supposed to be. Tears have broken in a trail down his cheeks. Androids are not meant to cry. He thought as much.

Tears threaten you too. Looking up into his face so conflicted, hurt because he’s not what they say. He’s alive. Of course he is. Only your sweet Connor would be. 

“Connor, please don’t.” Begging him again this time holds your heart on a jagged precipice. One wrong move and it will crash. “Your stress levels. Please, don’t…”

He leans his head down. Close, pressing forehead to yours, his eyelids flutter closed. “I am sorry,” Connor whispers, orbiting the warmth that pours from your body. This warmth he does not deserve.

His voice is husky heaven. Golden gates open with each syllable and you crave to hear your name. Again and again you crave his closeness. “Never apologize for what others do. They don’t know. None of them know what I know. You are more than them. You’re my Connor. With a heart of gold.”

“Androids do not have hearts as you do, Y/N.”

You smile sadly. “I know,” a whisper but next a beautiful revelation. “But this.” Fingers slide up against his chest. “It might not be the same but it thrums in a lovely song.”

 ^Software Instability

Steam rises in a soothing aroma from the mug cradled between your hands. A fresh brew of cocoa relieves mental ache. Physical? Everything is sore, tender where you fell. Changing clothes after getting back home alleviated discomfort. 

Soaking in a bath for an hour did loosen some tension. Rest of it just fails miserably. As much as you fail in public for all to see what you feel.

Still you blame yourself. Getting close to him acting as if you were out for an anniversary? How stupid can this be?

Of course he brought you that surprise breakfast. He told you why. Does that mean it was a real anniversary? What can be real about buying someone? Nothing is. It just reminds you about every sad truth. Those protesters made it clear.

Pursing lips to smoothly blow away steam, frothy top rich as you sip in a seat on couch. Toasty liquid fills insides with a burning comfort. This is the only solitude needed. Enough time to think it still edges nerves. 

Waiting for a word with Connor, he hasn’t been acknowledging much. Since what happened and who can blame him?

Part of you is still frightened. For him you just cannot help feeling afraid. What if he leaves the house for an errand and-and he’s jumped? What if he’s attacked?

There is no guessing. Possibilities are high. They will happen. They are happening. Each day it grows worse ever since that android who murdered that man. Pretending not to see makes you complicit. You don’t want to pretend. You will face reality no matter how dangerous it is becoming in Detroit.

“Y/N.”

Your head lifts. Peering over towards his husky drawl of your name straightens your perch. Leaning over deposits mug on coffee table and you wait. He appears as conflicted as before. 

Please, let him be OK. Just don’t let this ruin what you have found. 

All you care about is him. Yes, it’s true now. All these months and there are nothing greater than personal truths.

Connor hesitates. Ruminating over his actions offers him zero outcomes explaining his loss of control. There is only one solution. He is malfunctioning.

Something in his handsome face twists your stomach. It stabs deeper closer he gets. Joining you now is all the fear wound up in you showing its colors. They are similar to his LED. A constant swirl is unable to land on one draw.

“I will understand if you would like to send me back for reset.”

Reset? That word just guts you. Reset. No! 

“Connor,” a sob almost overtakes your response. The very idea of him taken somewhere and operated on ripples overtakes in a squirmy skin crawl. It’s barbaric. Resetting an android’s memories is horrifying. You hear about it all the time. They are completely wiped of their –

The android’s lips part, cocking his head while listening to shaky breath falling in sad soliloquy. He does not understand. No, he-he does.

“Y/N, I… Please,” he urges comfort stretching fingers out to soft skin. They do not touch. Simply artificial hovers above humanity but something tugs center of his chest. Something deep and satisfying as his synthetic heart thrums quicker in tempo. 

Connor pushes through this grid without fully snapping chains. Already he feels a flow spreading through system. Each day he looks upon your face happier since he came. As you told him once that it makes you feel better, safer to have someone. He is not someone. He is an android. 

How can you possess such feelings? How-how can he gaze over such softness, such beauty without wishing to remain? 

The thought of being taken - scares him. 

His LED flickers, red once more but not in anger. Fear is strange. Partially for his being but the possibilities of never seeing you again are tearing his programming shackles apart. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Reassuring him now is better than showing anymore of what has been lying inside. “No one will take you from me, Connor.”

Silence is best.

Sitting among a safe haven, your home offers that place now not just for you but him. Here no one can hurt this. No one can treat him inferior. Never will you treat him any different. You know it’s a fool’s game. Especially in this modern world of technology strives, transitions and creates intelligent life in humanity’s image. He is more than a sculpture, perfected work made for duties.

Today, Connor acted as any man would for the person they…. No. It can never be that. Neither does it stop how you felt. How he could tamper with his program just to be there for you.

None of this should have happened. You repeat it over and over again in your mind. None of this because of a fantasy; your eyes fall to his hand. Fingers touch yours now. It is soft, gentle and only a moment.

Connor pulls away too soon. Just a minute he allows himself to fall. Your reaction to his suggestion, no solution, cripples his code blocks. Almost he shattered them. They are close to crumbling. He must fight this deviancy. Only to stay with you because the android already knows what will happen to him. It’s happening to all of his people. Those who are succumbing to errors are hunted. They are murdered. 

No they are destroyed, deactivated. His kind is not alive.

If that is true... Why does he feel threads of humanity? Why does he feel alive with you?

Meeting his gaze deepens this sensation of fear. Today, waking up to a sunny morning seems so far away. It was just earlier. Horrible things happen and change perspectives. Tiny moments of peace and that’s what he brought. Into your life following circumstances you never expected to gain something worthwhile. He won’t even believe that. He thinks he should be reset. That will never happen.

“Connor, I want you to know something. And I want you to believe me. Not think of who you are.”

“I am – no one, Y/N.” The android dismisses for your sake. If he becomes deviant they will take him from you.

All you do is shake your head, cupping his face. In your hands he softens. Those sharp edges, cheekbones thumbs now caress. Soft skin in a freckle stardust that makes hearts flutter. Better than butterfly wings, better than anything you can use to describe how it unmakes your soul.

“It would break my heart,” a shaky whisper strangles. “If you are reset.”

An instant flood of scarlet reflects his inner feelings. You see it. He never has to admit. But he does feel. That’s what makes this harder. Knowing how afraid he must be not to show it. There has to be something happening inside of him. There are too many examples now.

“Con, I want you to…”

Dropping hands from his face makes it easy to turn in direction of doorbell. Who is that? Slowly you rise to feet, sliding fingers down atop his shoulder. “I’ll get it.” Striding away out of room quickly prevents him ignoring your request. Another sign but that’s for another day. As if it will be any easier.

Unlocking the door leads to a horrible drop in your stomach. Eyes connect with the woman standing there now, out of the blue, someone least expected and at the worst time imaginable.

“Hello, Y/N,” the older, staunch woman smiles, already assessing you like a microscopic Petri dish sample. “It’s been quite a long time hasn’t it?”

A long time is putting it mildly. Last time was on the phone and her trying to sink her claws into your father’s nest egg. The one he left you.

The conversation left on a sour note. There is nothing sourer than a rotten apple and your aunt is the literal evil queen hoarding an entire bundle.

Tag List: @tropfenlady​  @your-taxidermy @catastrophes-light  @rk900sexual  @tommy-10-k  @dreamyby @randomfandomgirl1996 @etherealcel @justashamwithwastedpotiental // tagging a few extra who I know would want a heads up <3

#dbh connor x reader #connor x reader #dbh connor rk800 x reader #rk800 x reader #dbh anniversary #dbh rk800 x reader #connor rk800 x reader #dbh #dbh au #detroit become human #dbh mini series #dbh au: wake up #wake up: part 1 #i am not proud of this #at all tbh #at least its finally here #apologies in advance

[jamaaisvu]

                 It   wasn’t   regularly   that   Six   allowed   people   to   get   close,   he   had   a   low   number   of   three   individuals   he   called   friends;   and   then   there   was   Yukwon.   Yukwon   was   someone   he’d   call   a   friend   but   also   held   at   an   arm’s-length,   for   his   own   security.   The   tiny   beast   wasn’t   someone   who   developed   feelings   often   but   when   he   did   he   was   unconditional,   gruff   but   impeccable.   Since   the   evening   the   male   showed   up   at   the   club   and   they   conversed   drunkenly   amongst   themselves,   he   noticed   a   glimmer   of   anticipation   every   time   he   went   to   work   and   a   sense   of   dread   when   he   didn’t   arrive.   

               Numbers   had   been   traded   and   a   teenage   hope   in   each   ding   that   maybe   Yukwon   was   the   first   to   message.   Pathetic,   he   knew.   Reduced   to   nothing   more   than   a   capricious   child,   rolling   in   bed   when   a   goodnight   text   followed.   

                                                                    Arm’s   length.

                                       He   continuously   reminded   himself,   arm’s   length.   

               Lucifer   often   sought   after   Six’s   motives   with   Yukwon,   perhaps   the   Devil   truly   cared   –   or   maybe   he   wanted   something   to   blackmail   him   with.   A   sigh,   a   roll,   and   a   click   to   turn   the   screen   off   his   phone.   Indestructible   lizard,   sure.   However,   he   was   faulty.   Emotions   weren’t   supposed   to   be   attached   to   him,   he   was   deemed   to   be   feared.   Another   sigh,   followed   by   a   grunt   -   “Fuck   me…”   Brided   digits   covered   his   orbs   and   attempted   to   wish   away   whatever   it   was   that   made   him   hope   that   there   were   more   interactions   with   the   other.   

                                                                         Ding!   

              The   device   was   in   his   hand   faster   than   light,   eyes   scanned   the   lock   screen   :   Yukwon   with   a   crown   emoji   settled   next   to   it.   ‘Wait   a   few   seconds   before   opening   it,   it   would   make   him   seem   suspicious   if   he   opened   it   quickly;   right?’   

                                                                   1.   

                                                                             2.

                                                                                        3.      

              Fuck   it.   Opening   it   he   tilted   his   head   to   the   side   and   shifted   to   sit   up,   the   message   simply   said,   ‘ Can’t   Sleep ’   with   a   location   marker   under   it.   Another   message   came   in,   with   two   more   words   ‘ Meet   me? ’.   Six   sent   a   thumbs   up   and   set   his   phone   on   the   charger   as   he   shuffled   around   his   room   to   find   something   to   wear,   his   body   ached   from   work;   muscles   screamed   and   fingers   still   stung.   No   matter   how   long   he   had   been   doing   this   job   his   body   still   throbbed,   Hanbins   words   echoed   in   his   head   ‘ pain   is   a   sign   of   weakness   leaving ’.   Shrugging   on   a   grey   tank   and   a   leather   jacket   he   looked   around   for   better   pants,   hopefully,   it   wasn’t   too   hot   out.   

                                                                              —   

             Eyes   studied   the   grassy   plane,   Han   River   was   a   go-to   for   most   people   who   couldn’t   sleep.   In   fact,   he   and   Hanbin   visited   the   area   after   work   or   even   when   they   just   needed   a   breather   from   Lucifer   and   his   antics.   

                               “Six!”   

             Hazel   hues   turned   to   look   at   his   friend,   “Yo.”   He   seemed   tired,   almost   as   if   he   hadn’t   slept   in   a   few   days.   “What’s   going   on?”   Brows   rose   in   concern,   yet,   he   remained   silent   -   hoping   maybe   the   other   would   speak   about   it   himself.   If   there   was   one   thing   he   learned   about   people,   it   was   to   let   things   naturally   come   out;   pushing   matters   could   only   make   it   worse.   Yukwin’s   quiet   behavior   wasn’t   anything   out   of   nature   but   the   bags   under   his   eyes   spoke   volumes.   “Its   been   a   while   since   we   saw   each   other…”   

            “Yeah,   work   has   picked   up   again.”   His   voice   was   quiet,   reserved.   Six   now   chalked   up   his   tired   state   to   work,   perhaps   he   was   much   like   his   household.   Fatigued   and   overworked.   Yet,   something   continued   to   nag   at   the   back   of   his   brain,   not   accurate.   No   matter   how   much   he   wanted   to   believe   it.   There   wasn���t   going   to   be   away   around   it,   the   question   would   inevitably   be   asked.   

           “Thank   you   for   coming,”   he   uttered,   “I   couldn’t   be   alone   tonight.”   Orbs   caught   Six’s   gaze,   a   smile   was   flickered   and   dissolved.   

           Holding   a   hand   out   for   the   other   to   walk   ahead   towards   the   river   he   pondered   what   to   say   to   him,   “Is   everything   okay?”   Six   inquired,   “You   look   tired…”   

           “I’m   perpetually   tired.”   A   chuckle   was   heard,   “Sleep   comes   very   few   and   far   between.”   

           “Oh…”   He   must   have   sounded   perplexed,   his   companion   turned   and   shrugged;   “I   promise   there   is   nothing   more   than   usual   going   on.   We   regularly   meet   at   the   club,   it’s   dark,   and   very   little   is   shown.”   A   hand   stretched   out,   tussling   the   others’   blonde   hair.   “Don’t   worry   too   much   Six,   you’ll   get   frown   lines.”   

         “I   already   have   frown   lines…   I   think.”   Fingers   felt   around   his   face,   scowling.   “Much   to   my   amazement   I   don’t,   so   nevermind.”   Shoulders   lifted,   “But   pet   my   head   again   and   I’ll   snap   your   wrist.”   Legs   led   him   down   the   hill   towards   the   river,   leaving   behind   a   snickering   Yukwon.   “You’re   much   too   compact   to   NOT   pat,   you’ll   have   to   give   my   tired   ass   a   pass   here   and   there.   There’s   something   gratifying   about   beating   the   odds   of   getting   my   wrist   broke.”   

         “Yeah,   yeah.   Mock   my   stature   but   I   can   still   beat   your   ass.”   Digits   quickly   fixed   his   hair   as   he   grinned   to   himself,   “There   has   to   be   some   type   of   vendor   open   right,   I’m   fucking   starving…”      

         “I   was   told   not   to   feed   Gremlins   after   midnight.”   Another   laugh   erupted   from   Yukwons   chest.   

         “I   swear   to   Lucifer   if   you   called   me   out   here   to   make   fun   of   my   height   I   will   end   you.”      Spinning   around   on   his   heels   he   glared   at   Yukwon.   “Alright,   alright.   That   was   the   last   one   for   now.”   Six   shook   his   head,   “No,   not   for   now.   It   stops. PERIOD.”   Hazel   hues   squinted,   “Fine,   fine   -   but   what   do   we   do   when   a   vendor   says   your   my   son?”   Hand   defensively   rose   to   his   chest   and   face,   “I’ll   let   that   one   pass,   you   are   basically   saying   I   look   young.”   

                                                    “Oh,   so   there   are   exceptions? ”   

                                                          “Don’t   F U C K I N G push   it!”

                                                                            @ofkngs！

#╰ ✧ ic:┊ → drabble #╰ ✧ ch:┊ → six8two ❨ response ❩ #ofkngs #// this is boring i had something in mind and tumblr fucked it up by deleting my shit this morning #// but heres some fluff and inside a tiny beasts head