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bestiesenpai · 3 years

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firsts with Choso

Imma do this as a non-curse au and also force everyone to see my vision of Instagram star Choso lol, gender neutral lads~

Content warning: there is drinking

First meeting

Choso was a celebrity. Did he ever call himself one? No. But in the eyes of the internet, he was properly famous, amassing an easy two million followers and counting through his short time on Instagram

Posting mainly fashion content, it was no surprise that he had hundreds upon hundreds of photographers asking him to model for them and brands begging to collaborate

His manager took care of most of those things, fielding the serious requests with the not so serious

Which is how he found himself shooting for a pretty well known magazine

There were people shouting and running around even though it was barely pushing six am. Choso hadn’t slept the whole night, his insomnia keeping him awake until the photoshoot. Downing a piping hot black coffee first thing in the morning, when he arrived at the shoot there were already assistants pouring him more cups.

“Choso, hair and makeup is ready for you.” His manager said, putting a hand on his shoulder and guiding him silently to the room. The lights were way too bright here, stinging Choso’s eyes and almost giving him a headache.

Sitting down in the makeup chair with his eyes closed, Choso heaved a heavy sigh as he got comfortable.

“Uhm, excuse me?” A timid voice sounded behind him, from the previously closed door to the room.

“Hm?” Cracking open an eye, Choso looked in the mirror in front of him to see who was speaking. A makeup assistant, wringing their hands together nervously and not meeting his bloodshot eyes.

“I’m uh- I’m here to start your makeup.” Your voice was so cute when addressing him, a little higher pitched than what he assumed was normal. Biting your lip, you slid into the room slowly, standing a good distance behind his chair and looking at him through the mirror.

“Okay, I’ll sit up.” Gulping the rest of his coffee down, Choso sat up pin straight in the makeup chair. Even if he fell asleep in the chair he trained himself well enough to not slouch over once he was in this position.

You began to work silently, pulling out products and laying them down with trembling hands. Your nervousness was cute, endearing almost to Choso. He knew he could look rather intimidating, that’s partly why he had so many followers, and to see you so scared in front of him made a lazy smirk grace his face.

“I’ll be putting your base on now?” Even though you tried to sound stern your sentence came out as a question and Choso blew air sharply through his nose, fighting the uptick of his lips as you fiddled with products.

Choso sat perfectly still while you began to touch his face. With half lidded eyes he could see your name badge swinging from the lanyard around your neck. (Y/N) was printed in large letters, impossible to miss.

A few minutes passed in pure silence between you and Choso could feel your hands shake when you cupped his cheek to apply foundation and patting powder across his face. The door swung open just as you went to swap a few products around, someone had come to take you away for a few minutes.

“Oh, I’ll only be gone a little bit, but the main makeup artist should be here before I return.” You spewed out, dropping the things in your hands against the counter. Forcing a polite smile at Choso, your feet shuffled awkwardly as you flip-flopped between saying something more, waiting for his reply or just leaving in entirely.

“Thank you (Y/N), you did a great job.” Choso said calmly, smiling back at you and taking a sip of his now lukewarm coffee. Your mouth dropped briefly in surprise and your brows rose up, your whole face opened up in sweet surprise. Biting your lip and rocking on your heels, a shy giggle left your chest.

“Bye Choso.” Giggling again as you said his name, you scurried from the room like an embarrassed school girl, gushing about Choso to the person waiting for you as you left the room.

First hangout

The next time Choso saw you, it was to fix his lip makeup between pictures, and your hands shook then too

As the day wore on, Choso found himself completely smitten with how helpless you were in front of him, how scared and nervous you were. He felt the ever growing urge to protect you, even if it was from himself

He’s elated when the team proposes going out to dinner together, both as a way to refuel and get to know each other better since this photoshoot will be a few days long

Heading out into the darkening world outside the studio, Choso makes sure to stick close by you

He’s not standing directly near you, but Choso makes sure to stay behind you as the group walks. He’s watching you talk animatedly with your friends, no doubt other small time assistants just eager to get started in the industry. Your smile warms his heart and when you laugh loudly at a crosswalk Choso chuckles as well.

Once at the restaurant, he cunningly makes sure he’s seated next to you. He doesn’t say anything, but he can tell your demeanor has shifted because you get just a little bit quieter, that nervous energy comes back a little.

“(Y/N), what’re you thinking of getting?” Choso asks you as he looks over the menu. He can hear your breath hitch, obviously surprised he even addressed you.

“Uhm, I’m not sure, I’ve never been here before.” Shrugging your shoulder, you quickly skim the menu. “Is there anything you’re thinking of getting?”

“Hmmm…” Drumming his fingers on the table, Choso shrugs as well. “Whatever you get, I’ll get too.”

“That’s a lot of pressure.” Laughing nervously, you flip through the menu. “I don’t even know what you like.”

“I’ll like whatever you like.” Choso wouldn’t necessarily call this flirting, he didn’t consider himself particularly suave or charming, but from the way you stammered and hid your face with the menu, clearly flustered, told him that most people would consider what he was doing flirting. Especially you.

“Okay but don’t blame me if you don’t like it.” Came your whispered reply from behind the menu, and Choso just knew your cheeks and ears were on fire.

“As long as you pick it out, I won’t have a single complaint.”

First kiss

From that moment on, Choso knew he liked you. It wasn’t hard to get you to come out of your shell and talk more casually with him, afterall he was the oldest of a lot of brothers

Talking with you all throughout dinner, Choso was a little more excited to go to work. Even if you didn’t end up liking him the same way, you could still be friends - something that Choso was kind of lacking

As the days of the photoshoot wore on and you got closer with each other, Choso found himself yearning to ask you to hang out outside of all of this, when it all ends and you don’t have to be professional with him

He knows he only has one chance left at the very last team dinner, a celebratory occasion that is sure to go out with a bang

“Let’s drink to all the hard work we put in these last few days!” The photographer cheered, already drunk and swaying in his chair. No one cared though, everyone was already a little drunk. Choso had a few beers himself and was feeling the beginnings of a pleasant buzz, and it seemed so were you. With a dopey smile on your face and slightly glassy eyes, you laughed a little too hard at a joke across the table with a fruity drink in your hand.

“(Y/N) don’t drink too much, you’re a terrible lightweight!” Someone teased a few seats down and a couple people chuckled in agreement.

“W-whatever!” Sticking your tongue out, you downed the rest of your drink and quickly ordered another. “I deserve to have fun, that photoshoot was stressful!”

It was indeed. Between actually taking the pictures, going to the different locations, waking up early and creating promo content for his Instagram, Choso was swamped. The only highlights of his day would be when you would come to do his makeup or fix it, or these times when you’d sit together during dinner.

“Yeah you do.” Putting a hand on your shoulder, Choso pat it a few times and you easily swayed with the motions. This wasn’t the first time he was touching you, he’d pat you on the back a few other times, but seeing you bend so easily made him laugh.

Choso kept a keen eye on you for the entirety of dinner, watching you down drink after drink and forcing you to drink water in between some of them. It was fun to see you let go like this, he never thought he’d get the chance, and the desire to protect you was coming up again.

When the group decided to go to karaoke after dinner, Choso kept an arm around your shoulder as you all walked to the next location. He kept you from falling and bumping into things and being kidnapped by random strangers you wanted to talk to as you walked by. Getting to the room in one piece, you all crowd in and the party continues.

Choso can barely make heads or tails of what’s going on, there’s people taking pictures and videos of everything, his manager is drunkenly securing another deal for him over the phone, and there’s loud and offkey singing blaring through the speakers. He almost thinks about bailing, but seeing you so amped up and singing along as well has him staying.

“Choso, what’d you think?” You shout over the music ten minutes later. You’re breathless from doing a song and collapse into the open seat next to him.

“You did great.” Choso grins. He can see the sweat on your hairline and he had definitely taken pictures of you singing to look at later. You beam at him, obviously happy to get his approval, and bounce up and down in your seat.

“I have to go pee, do you know where the bathroom is?” Your tiny drunk bladder would truly be the death of you. Helping you up, Choso exits the karaoke room and guides you down the hall to the bathrooms, far away from the noise filled rooms. Waiting for you to come out, Choso can tell you’re properly drunk.

“You good?” Quirking his head to the side, Choso grabs your upper arm as you stumble towards him.

“Choso! I gotta- gotta do something!” Hiccuping through your words, you have the front of his shirt in a vice grip as you square your shoulders in front of him. With a fiery determined look in your eyes, you push forward.

At first, you bump your noses painfully together and a quiet curse slips under your breath. But then you try again and your lips actually make contact with Choso’s. The kiss is sloppy, messy - it’s as drunk as you are. He can taste the liquor on your lips, creating a smooth glide along the surface that makes it easier to slide against him.

Just as Choso is getting into it, his hands coming to grip your waist instead of your arms, you let go. Push him away hard and stumble back at the same time. There’s tears in your eyes, lower lip quivering pathetically.

“(Y/N)-”

“I-I should go.”

“(Y/N) wait-” You run away before he can say anything, before Choso has a chance to grab your hand and pull you back to him and tell you that he’s wanted to kiss you for a while now. Standing dumbly in the hallway alone, he hears the slam of a karaoke room door, no doubt from you.

Slinking back into the room, Choso can see that you’ve decided to sandwich yourself between two other people and avoid his burning eye contact for the rest of the night. You don’t even properly say goodbye to him when it’s time to part, just slip away into the Uber your friends called.

First confession

Even though you managed to give him the slip, Choso still got your phone number from someone before the party completely dispersed

The kiss stayed on his mind for the rest of the night, keeping him up as he played the moment over and over again in his head

By the time morning came, Choso was itching to message you

He had to know why you kissed him, and if you’d let him kiss you again

(Choso): hey this is Choso I got your number from one of the others

(Choso): we have something to talk about

He waited a good couple hours for you to text back. The longer time went on, the longer Choso just wanted to call you and be done with waiting in limbo.

(Y/N): sorry about last night

That was all you had to say and Choso just knew you were kicking yourself over it.

(Choso): don’t be sorry, I liked it

(Y/N): you don’t have to lie to try and make me feel better

(Y/N): it was a drunk mistake and it won’t happen again

(Choso): what if I want it to happen again?

He could see the little typing bubbles disappear and reappear with a fervor. Your mind must be racing as much as his was.

(Y/N): I’m not interested in being a fling

(Choso): good thing I don’t want you as just a fling

There was a nervous sort of adrenaline building up in Choso’s body, making his cheeks flush and fingers tremble, but emboldening him as well to keep going.

(Choso): Let me take you out on a date, I wanna see you at least one more time

(Choso): then you can decide if it really won’t ever happen again

(Choso): deal?

You were silent on the other end reading his messages. There were no typing bubbles to give away your position. Choso was stuck in limbo.

(Y/N): alright, deal

First date

Choso quickly set up a date at a trendy cafe he frequented, one that he took plenty of Instagram pictures at

He could sense your hesitation to go out with him over the phone and he was quick to dash away any second thoughts you had about dating someone that was internet famous

Choso liked you for you, not for what you could potentially bring to him in terms of content

He waited nervously outside the train station for you, wearing an outfit he’d painstakingly reworked a hundred times before deciding on something

“Choso!” You called out to him, rushing towards his figure waiting against a brick wall.

“Hey.” Smiling softly, Choso’s fingers twitched with the urge to hug you, but he held it off. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, possibly scare you off by being too forward.

“You’re here early.” Your eyes quickly danced over the clothes he chose and you let out a hum. “I feel self conscious now, you dressed so nicely for this!”

“You think?” He chuckled, tugging on the edge of the designer hoodie he’d thrown on.

“Yeah, but that’s to be expected of an Instagram star!” Shrugging your shoulders overdramatically, you gestured behind you to the bustling sidewalk full of people. “Should we get going? I’ve never been to the place you suggested.”

“Yeah, lets go.” Choso’s hand hovered over your lower back, guiding you through the people and onto the sidewalk. All it took was seeing you jostled around by a few people walking by for Choso to get fed up and grasp your hand firmly in his, weaving his fingers through yours.

“Stick close to me, it’s pretty crowded today.” He whispered in your ear, pulling you halfway behind him and grabbing your other hand as well and guiding it to hold onto the back of his hoodie. With his imposing nature and intimidating stature, Choso effortlessly pushed through the throngs of people and you quickly found yourself at the cafe in question.

“Let’s go in.” Turning around to face you, he’s stunned when you leap up and peck his cheek.

“Thanks Choso.” Giggling, you sidestep him and go to open the door of the cafe, but you’re stopped by Choso’s unmoving body. “What’s up Choso?”

“(Y/N).” He’s looking at you with scarily wide eyes and his tone is deathly serious. “Will you kiss me again if I buy you a drink?”

“Huh? Yeah of course, but-” You’re cut off from telling him that you’d kiss him without the drink by Choso bolting forward into the cafe.

“I’ll buy you all the drinks you could ever want then. And a slice of cake too.”

#jujutsu kaisen #choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

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jincherie · 4 years

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kiss it better | jjk

~ COMMISSION FOR @cinnaminsvga ~

✩ — pairing: jungkook x reader ✩ — genre: college/uni au, smut, cheerleader!jk, pining, borderline crack ✩ — words: 11.7k ✩ — rating: 18+ ✩ — warnings: koo takes a tumble, explicit sexual content; clothed sex, unprotected sex (not recommended), creampie, handjobs,light subby!jk, hand-holding during sex (potent), whining, thigh-riding, vaginal sex, minor hair pulling, public sex (sort of), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, light dirty talk ✩ — notes: out later than intended and a bit longer than intended !! whoops!!! i won’t/don’t charge if i go over the commissioned amount becayse that’s my bad!! but yeah. its been a hot second since i last wrote smut!! also none of my friends were awake to proofread this so….. apologies if it’s shit and has typos! its 2am! pls enjoy and lmk whast u think!!

When one goes to Kim Seokjin for advice, it’s almost guaranteed to never end well. This is something Jungkook learns quickly when he mistakenly follows treasured advice to ‘be smart’ and ‘use his assets’. He just did what he was told! Of course, the execution was a bit poor… and embarrassing. But hey, if rocking up to cheer practice in a skirt doesn’t woo your crush, what will?

masterlist | — posted; 01.03.2020

TUESDAY, SEMESTER 2 WEEK FOUR

It’s a beautiful day, the sun has just come to peak out from behind the clouds that had earlier obscured its climb from the horizon, and the grass of the Biological Sciences Library courtyard glistens with raindrops left over from the brief shower that prefaced the sun’s belated appearance. Students are finally beginning to emerge from the safety of the undercover walkways and overhangs, venturing boldly to shortcut over the grass. University life resumes, and everything falls back into its place, all as usual.

“Yah, is that Jungkook? Wait what is he—”

Well, everything except for one thing.

A red and black-clad figure slams to a stop right where two students are sitting and minding their own business outside the café attached to the back of the library—there’s no time to say hello. The table rocks dangerously on its beaten, metal leg, the impact of Jungkook’s beeline almost sending it straight to the ground if the two others weren’t already seated there to catch it.

“OW!” Jimin is never one to be quiet in his complaints, all too happy to holler his outrage at the top of his lungs. As his oldest hyung would say, no attention is bad attention. “Hey you almost jammed my fingers!”

Startled as Taehyung might have been, his focus is quickly shifted to other things. His wide eyes scan Jungkook’s panting form, taking in the clothes clinging to him like a second skin and the beet red colour of his face and ears. It’s not hard to put two and two together, but what comes out of his mouth isn’t exactly the most pressing thing he wants to ask, “Jungkook, why are you wearing the female cheer leading uniform I gave you?”

There’s a somewhat crazed look that makes itself known in the youngest’s eyes. “AHA!” he throws a finger in Taehyungs face, accusing. “So you ADMIT it’s a female uniform! Taehyung, you ass, how could you!”

Taehyung’s face is a question mark and Jimin squints, confused and still huffy about nearly losing his fingers and his triple-shot iced caramel latte that he may or may not have charmed the barista into gifting him for free. He wants to know what is going on and he wants to know NOW, damn it!

“What are you on about?” he asks, wrinkling his nose as he takes his drink into hand to prevent any future risk of spillage. “Why do you look like that time you ran the half-marathon on a dare?”

Jungkook glares at him, but it’s about as effective as it would be coming from a puppy. “Be quiet and sip your drink,” he says boldly, still attempting to get his breathing under control. Jimin considers throwing a retort back but ultimately decides against, it, shrugging and doing just that. He doesn’t want it getting warm, after all.

“Uh, yeah,” Taehyung says, sounding like he is a split second away from tacking on ‘duh’ at the end. “You asked me for a cheerleading uniform? I thought you knew some chick that needed a spare, I didn’t know you wanted one to wear.”

At Jungkook’s dumbfounded expression, Taehyung takes the liberty of continuing. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with it? You look surprisingly hot in a skirt, your ass looks fine as hell. But you seem kind of angry so IN MY DEFENSE, how was I supposed to know? That you wanted a male uniform? You never specified so—”

While each word that came out of Taehyung’s mouth just seemed to rile him up more, a different look passes over Jungkook’s features at that comment. “Wait, my ass looks good?” He straightens, attempting to peer over his own shoulder to catch a glimpse. “I wonder if she… No!”

He shakes his head suddenly to clear those thoughts and get back on track, whipping that same accusing finger in Taehyung’s face once more and levelling him with a renewed glare.

“Because of you, I just had the most humiliating experience of my life, and it was all in front of you-know-who!” His voice starts strong, but as he continues it shrinks to more of an angry whisper, his brows scrunched in a clear display of his displeasure. “I literally am about to commit seppuku.”

“Weeb,” Jimin utters at the same time as Taehyung asks, “y/n?” Jimin’s head whips up at the keyword.

Jungkook’s fight has all but left him at this point, and he pulls out one of the metal chairs to slump in it, defeatedly. His ears are turning crimson again as he recalls the events that had traumatised him so, and he slams his head to the table with a groan, muttering to himself in a voice that sounds dangerously like a sob.

“—stupid, was so stupid of me. I never should have asked Seokjin-hyung for advice. For actually listening I deserve nothing short of death. I’m so embarrassed I’m gonna throw myself into the lake.”

“Don’t throw yourself in there, think of the fishes—” Taehyung says at the same time as Jimin squawks, “WHAT?! You got advice from Seokjin?! He knows who your crush is? Oh my god, you’re more stupid than I thought…”

It’s all Jungkook can do to simply rest his head on the grubby-feeling table, eyes unfocused as he stares into the distance and regrets almost every single decision he has made in his waking life.

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

“My roommate,” Seokjin says, in between gratuitous sips of his monstrously sugary drink. “I think I’m almost about to get him to crack.”

“I feel bad for him,” you say, not looking up from your laptop despite the urge to gorge on your own drink. You made a goal not to look like a goblin when you woke up this morning and sipping your drink at a reasonable pace is a good start. “Being stuck in close quarters with you all the time. No doubt he needs therapy by now.”

As expected, Seokjin ignores you. You wonder if this is how he has managed not to get usurped as leader of the Contemporary Poetry Performance Club.

(To condense a very long story— he didn’t take being kicked out of the Drama Club very well. That’s on him though, he probably shouldn’t have called the Club Leader a tasteless fool for ordering a salad with his Happy Meal instead of nuggets. But, you digress.)

“I think I’m getting close these days,” the male muses, not-so-subtly making a reach for the McDonalds apple pie you have resting on the table next to your laptop. You smack his hand away without so much as a blink, more than used to having to defend any and all food from his wandering hands by this point. He continues, unaffected by the rebuttal, “Like, really close. It’s not long before my unrelenting bastardous antics wear him down and he finally breaks, spilling all his deepest secrets and confessing his long-time crush on me, thus allowing me to bring this act of friends-to-lovers pining to a close and get to the steamy stuff. “

At his spiel, you finally look at him, sporting a concerned and confused expression, if not somewhat intrigued. “… Are you talking about Jungkook?”

Seokjin chokes on the long sip he’d begun to drag up the straw, indignance making his voice rise. “NO, dumbass, I’m talking about Namjoon! Although…” He pauses only to bring a finger to stroke his chin, like a villain straight from an episode of Lazy Town, “You know, I never thought I’d be one for that harem shit, but now I think about it…”

“Gross,” you groan, wrinkling your nose. Seokjin releases a villainous cackle and you have no choice but to raise your fist in promise. He gets the message and quietens down immediately.

“No, but speaking of that little twerp,” Seokjin quickly starts up again, placing his drink down on the table. You feel an ounce of regret, knowing that means he’s about to talk for a longer time than you’re ready for. “I’m close to breaking him too.”

“He told you who his crush is?” you ask, brows raising in shock. Seokjin lets out a great sigh like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, making you snort.

“No,” he grumbles, before brightening straight after. “But! I’m getting close. He came to me for advice this morning.”

At his words, you’ve now completely abandoned whatever you were doing on your laptop and are looking at him in disbelief. “You’re lying.”

“Am not!” Seokjin denies, huffy. “He did! He wanted help making his crush fall in love with him, and so of course he came to me, Kim Seokjin, master of the heart and modern-day cupid.”

You pin him with a deadpan look. “Namjoon was out, wasn’t he.”

Seokjin’s glare is all the answer you need. He continues like you hadn’t even spoken in the first place.

“And since he so wisely came to me, of all people, and put his love life in my wise, gentle hands, I gave him the best advice anyone could possibly get.” The way his chest has swelled with pride and he’s looking all-too-pleased with himself doesn’t fill you with a good feeling. “I told him to play it smart, and use his assets.”

At first, you’re confused. “What, like… his cuteness? His endearing personality?”

“NO, dumbass, his assets! His ass! His thighs! His itty-bitty waist!” You think you hear him muttering something like ‘that lucky bitch’ under his breath, but can’t be sure. “Also, don’t think I missed you calling him cute, y/n. I’m filing that shit away for later.”

“I’ll kill you,” you inform him, but the threat has long since lost its impact. He rolls his eyes.

“Shut up, we both already know exactly how 'peggable’ you think he is.” He takes a haughty sip of his drink like he knows he’s right, and you hate that he is. “It’s not the most incriminating thing I have on you.”

You make the strategic decision not to say anything and dig your hole deeper, and Seokjin seems pleased at your silent admit of defeat.

“Anyway,” he says again, smacking the cream on top of his drink down into the liquid with a spoon. There is some fallout, but that’s never stopped him before. “Kid’s dumb as shit but pure of heart. I’m interested to see whether he will actually take my advice.”

“He won’t for sure,” you scoff, returning to your laptop at last. “Anyone who takes your advice is guaranteed to have an empty head and quarter of a brain cell to their name. Jungkook is smarter than that.”

As expected, Seokjin squawks in outrage, and it harmonises with the ambience of dead silence in your corner of the library. He doesn’t let the topic rest for the remainder of the day.

WEDNESDAY, WEEK FIVE

You think that the day Jungkook first rocked up to cheer practice at the gym a week ago at the same time you were coaching the women’s basketball team, is one firmly burned into your memory for the rest of your life. And, honest to god, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Because the boy, in all his slim-waisted, sculpted-ass-and-thighs glory, had rocked up in a cheerleading crop top and skirt.

You have absolutely no idea why he decided to wear that to his first session after joining, but you do know that while the sight of him usually makes you drool, the sight of him in that made your brain cease all higher functioning and you, in essence, became a dog. You almost barked when you saw him, for real.

Even from across the room though, you’d quickly been able to gather that he hadn’t worn it on purpose (somehow), as his face flushed bright crimson and he quickly began to look like he wanted to neck himself in the middle of the gym. Yoongi, another bastard friend of yours who through a series of unfortunate events and regrettable decisions (for him) had become the cheer captain, had been insulted that Jungkook had shown up like that and “hadn’t taken cheer seriously”, and so had given him a punishment. Yoongi said that if he wanted to rock up in a skirt so badly, then for every coming practice he had to wear a skirt again.

Had you not been busy drooling you probably would have felt bad for Jungkook, as you did later when Yoongi filled you in. As it were, in the moment you’d nearly copped a basketball to the face for being so distracted. Regrettably, you’d had to turn away from Jungkook and back to your actual duties: coaching.

Although with Yoongi being out for your blood, you have had plenty of opportunities in the past week to ogle to your heart’s desire. A real shameful amount, if you’re being honest with yourself.

“Bora!” you call, watching the girl in question halt across the gym. “Fix your footwork or I’m gonna smack you!”

The girl rolls her eyes and turns away, flicking a ponytail of dark hair over her shoulder as she does so, but listens to what you say. The familiar squeak of rubber on gym flooring fills the air as she starts the drill anew. She has a tendency to get lazy and sloppy in her movements if you don’t ride her ass, and she knows it as much as you do.

“How did you even managed to get the coaching position?” Seulgi asks from next to you, her response almost cut off by a loud racket from the cheer side of the gym. It takes all of your willpower not to fall into the trap and look over. “I feel like people like you shouldn’t be in positions of power.”

You don’t even bother arguing with her since she’s technically right and you agree. “Sheer dumb luck,” you tell her, risking a glance to the side if only to give Yoongi the stink eye. “Actually, if you really wanna know, I only went for it because Yoongi wanted it and he did something that really soured my yoghurt and pissed me off. So I applied out of spite. I probably shouldn’t have gotten the job though.”

“Huh,” Seulgi voices, eyes unfocused. “Well you’re not too bad for a fake. The team has actually been improving since you took over.”

“That’s probably because you guys went through coaches so fast for a while that for like, six months you didn’t really have one.”

“Touché.”

The only reason the girl is on the sidelines in the first place is because she’d looked over at the wrong time and caught it just as Jungkook started one of the tumbling routines, getting it almost perfect on the first go and in the process flashing his pert ass to the air and any sorry beholders. He might have been wearing bike shorts under the punishment skirt he was modelling, and he might have traded the crop top for a singlet of reasonable length, but it was still a dangerous, nay lethal sight. You’d looked over at the same time so you knew why and how Seulgi managed to tumble and trip so terribly mid-drill. She rolled her ankle so bad that as she sits next to you right now with ice on it, it looks like there’s an entire boiled egg beneath the surface of her skin. It’s kind of gross but also kind of hard to look away from.

Back to the topic at hand, there is just something about the sheer athleticism and heaven-blessed ease with which Jungkook backflips and cartwheels across the mat that turns you into a brainless slab of goo. You’re unsurprised that Seulgi got distracted and ended up hurting herself as a result of it.

The afternoon flies by and before you know it, it’s dark outside, and you’ve finished riding the collective women’s basketball team’s ass for the day. As they disperse and leave the gym at a leisurely pace, you collect Seulgi and help her towards the gym locker room to get some fresh ice for her ankle before she journeys to visit the university nurse.

The cheer squad has just about finished up their own practice, and one by one they begin to filter out of the gym. Yoongi waddles over to where you stand by the door, eyeing Seulgi with a knowing look.

“Got distracted at the wrong time, huh?” He asks, very much already knowing the answer. You give him a dirty look while Seulgi goes bright pink.

Yoongi adjusts the collar of his university sports jacket, puffing his chest out. “That’s our golden boy for ya,” he brags, sounding very much like one of the aunties and old women you find gossiping on the street near the markets. “He was born for cheer. It’s like he’s been tumbling since the day he was born. Probably even came out doing a backflip.”

You want to tell him to stop pulling shit out of his ass, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything when you agree so wholeheartedly. You’re saved from having to summon a response when in the next second, Yoongi gets the urge to turn and catches Jungkook red-handed on his way out of the gym. He seems in a hurry, moving almost like he’s trying to sneak out unnoticed, but halts at the unmistakable sound of Yoongi’s holler when it breaches the air.

“Ah there he is— Jungkook-ah!” Even while calling out, Yoongi somehow still has an indolent, lazy drawl. “Good job today! Also, proud of you for committing to your punishment. Keep it up!”

The poor raven-haired boy had already looked somewhat mortified at being singled out amongst the students exiting the gym, but now as Yoongi finishes speaking and his big doe eyes flick to the side and take in you and Seulgi listening in, his face very suddenly and violently erupts into a blush.

“Th-thanks,” he squeaks, nodding, the tips of his ears darkening to match his face. His eyes are flicking from you to Yoongi in such a way he almost reminds you of a scared rodent. When it becomes clear he has nothing more to say, he turns on his heel and flees in the direction of the locker room. For his sake, you don’t ogle him as he goes. There’s a time and a place, and he seems so embarrassed that you’d feel bad for checking him out right now.

“… He’s so cute,” Yoongi remarks a few seconds after Jungkook disappears out the door, gaze still trained in the direction he’d left. “No wonder I always look over and see you drooling, y/n.”

You agree with the first part, but honestly… you could have done without that second comment. You give him the stink eye to let him know just that, before tapping Seulgi and readjusting your grip in preparation to walk once more.

“If you’re immune, Min, you’re not human,” Seulgi says, cheeky glint in her eye. Your heart warms—you can always count on her to defend you in the face of life’s meanies.

SATURDAY, WEEK 5

It’s not often you find yourself making the long, arduous trek down the street to the apartment building where Seokjin et al. live, but it does happen on the occasion. If possible, you like to make the journey in the morning or the afternoon, because there is little to no cover on the path that takes you there and the only thing you like less than being in the sun when you don’t have to is sweating.

Still, you make the trek today, even though it’s technically past the point in the morning where you would refuse. The heat starts to come anywhere from 8 to 9 o’clock, even earlier on the stinkier days. Call you lazy, but you stick by your own rules because they work and reduce your suffering considerably.

Namjoon is one of your project partners in a random elective the two of you chose, and he was meant to give you a part of the assignment he’d been working on yesterday but, of course, forgot it. And then again today, when he was meant to drop it off on his way to work, he forgot it once more. So here you are, walking to his stupid apartment and preparing to break in because it’s due next week and you need his part to finish yours, damn it.

Thankfully, air conditioning greets you the second you step inside the building and cools down whatever heat has managed to cling to your form from outside. Luck is on your side—no sweat today, babey! In a slightly better mood now that you’re out of the sun, you follow the path your legs have committed to memory to Namjoon’s apartment.

Normally you’d rely on someone being home to let you in so you can ransack Namjoon’s room, but in his apologetic text he’d informed you that everyone is out and so with a great, big sigh you’d resigned yourself and dug the lockpicking set you received one Christmas out from under your bed. It’s heavy in your back pocket now as you walk down the hallway of the floor their apartment is on, already feeling like you’ve committed a crime. Before you can even throw yourself into thoughts of which tool would work best on their front door, you catch sight of something you most definitely weren’t expecting.

There’s someone else in front of the apartment door, jiggling the doorknob and attempting to work it. You don’t know if they realise its locked and are trying their luck anyway, or whether they’ve yet to figure it out, but while their back is turned to you they have provided you with an excellent view.

Broad shoulders with tan skin peaking out from below a muscle singlet and glistening with sweat where their body catches the light. Dark curls are plastered to the back of their neck, arms out and a tattoo sleeve on one leading your gaze down its length. He’s very athletic, you gather of the stranger immediately, and you’re almost drooling at the way his bicep shifts and tenses as he tries the doorknob once more. Your gaze finally frees itself and scans over the rest of him; defined back, tiny waist, nice butt, thick thighs—

Wait. You know that waist. The sight of it bared by a skimpy cheerleading outfit is one you’ve committed to memory.

“Jungkook?” you say, feeling your stomach dip in excitement. Does it always do that when you see him? You can’t remember.

At the sound of your voice and how close it is, the male jumps in fright and lets out a noise eerily close to a squeak. He spins, slamming his back against the door and smacking a hand over his heart.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, eyes closing and head falling back against the door with a thud. The sight is borderline sinful when combined with his damp hair and sweaty form, and your thoughts threaten to take a dangerous route before you reign them in. You smack your libido back in place— down, girl! “y/n, you scared the living shit out of me.”

A moment passes before his eyes snap open and the breath leaves him in a whoosh, and he’s looking at you like a cornered rabbit, cheeks already warming in his fluster. “W-wait, y/n? What… What are you doing here?”

Cute. If you could, you think you’d pack him up and put him in your pocket.

You ignore his question only for the sake of asking him your own—much less incriminating as a choice. “Are you trying to break into your own apartment, Mister Jungkook?”

Instantly, as you’d almost come to expect at this point, his cheeks flush cutely.

“Wh- I, uh…” he swallows and clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “No! Kind of? I went for a jog earlier and Namjoon-hyung kind of… uh… he locked me out.”

As he speaks, you’re reminded of how much you actually like his voice. It’s smooth, melodious; even when its shaking slightly from nerves. Why is he nervous? The longer you stand in his presence the more curious you become. You kind of want to tease him a little.

You hum, a smile curling the corners of your lips and one of your brows raising. “Ah, so he’s scorned both of us, I see. But fear not, little gumdrop!”

He’s staring at you in something akin to flustered bewilderment as you reach behind you and pull out your lockpicking kit, brandishing it like a trophy. “I have the solution!”

“…” He’s stunned into silence, it seems, but you don’t mind. The look on his face right now is super cute—you kind of want to pinch his cheeks. Okay, damn it, you can’t help it—you pinch his cheek and make a short cooing noise as you step past, preparing to help him break into his apartment. At least this way it feels less like a crime and more like a service.

(You sneak a sly look back at Jungkook as you pass him, and your heart squeezes at the sight of his cheeks flushing pink from your teasing action, eyes wide as they follow your form. This boy is gonna kill you one day.)

Usually you have a bit of trouble picking locks (you don’t do it often) but you crack this one surprisingly fast, and before you know it the door is swinging open and you’re letting out a noise of glee.

“Excellent!” you announce, before darting right in to search for what you came for. Namjoon left it conveniently on the dining table, so you dash over and grab the folder and USB before turning around to be on your merry way.

When you return to the door, Jungkook is still standing there, tattooed hand pressed to the cheek you’d pinched – which are bright red, by the way— and his eyes somewhat dazed.

“See you at practice later, Jungkook!” you say, waving the folder to accentuate the farewell. “Don’t forget the punishment skirt! You look too good in it, it would be a crime to forget it.”

Once you’re done speaking, you turn back the way you’re walking, missing the facial expression that accompanies his flustered sputtering of a goodbye. Your stomach still flips in excitement as you retreat, a skip in your step, and you can’t help but think it wouldn’t be a bad thing if you ended up seeing more of Jungkook outside of practice.

WEDNESDAY, WEEK 6

You’re sitting in the campus sushi place, escaping the midday heat and grabbing something to eat, minding your own business. It is, though, a nice day and you don’t mind sitting back and just admiring it. This changes when a figure suddenly comes bolting towards you from a distance and nearly bowls you and the contents of your sushi container over.

“SEOKJIN!” you exclaim, barely having saved your food from a sudden and unfortunate meet & greet with the floor. You give him a glare strong enough to kill. “What the hell! My karaage chicken!!! Dude you KNOW they only make a certain amount of these per day, you almost made me drop it and I hadn’t even taken a bit yet! Honestly! You—”

“Shut! Shut up!” Seokjin grips you by the shoulders, giving you a shake; it makes your eyes lock-on to his flushed face, his breath coming in pants from his exertion. “Shut up I have something to say and it’s important!”

“Stop shaking me!” you cry, wriggling out of his grip and leaning as far back into your chair as you can to get away from this nutcase. “And what?! You finally slipped up and Namjoon found all the secret letters you write for him when you’re horny?!”

“No, better!” Seokjin makes like he’s going to grab your shoulders again and you smack his hands away. He continues, eyes alight with something akin to glee that makes him look just a little bit crazy. “I finally did it! I found out who that twerp’s crush is! You won’t beli—”

“What?!” you sputter, your gut churning for some reason. Is the sushi you ate off? “He told you? No way he would be stupid enough to tell you—”

“Hey!” the male cries, indignant. “I resent that! Also no, he didn’t technically tell me, but I have people on the inside…”

It takes a moment for you to scan through people in your head before it clicks. You gasp. “You bullied it out of his friends?! Seokjin! Taehyung and Jimin don’t deserve that!”

“I didn’t bully them! They told me of their own accord!” He points a finger at you in retribution. “Albeit, it was by accident, but I digress.”

You’re shaking your head, returning to your sushi and ignoring the odd sensations in your gut. “This is blood information, man. I don’t know if I can sit and be accomplice to—”

“It’s you!” Seokjin blurts, sticking his pink-haired head right in your face. “The twerp has a crush on you! Finally, at least one of my shipping dreams is coming true!”

You’re so shocked by the information literally thrown in your face that you honest to god almost drop your sushi, again. You stare at the male, mouth open, as you flounder to get some order back in your thoughts.

The first thing you think to say is—“What? No way. Your info is dodgy, man.”

“Look, I know you’re sensitive so I try not to say this often, but are you dumb, y/n?” Seokjin stands back now, hand on his hip. The look he’s giving you isn’t impressed. “It makes so much sense! Why else would he sign up to cheerleading in a skirt to use his assets if it wasn’t on at the same time as whatever his crush does? Honestly, I should have seen it sooner—the way he goes bright pink every time he sees you and his eyes sparkle like an anime girl every time we mention you. I just thought he was scared of girls or had pinkeye or somethin’.”

You kind of want to smack him, but the rest of you is busy attempting to process all the information unloaded on you. Your stomach gives a giddy flip, and you decide it can only mean one thing in the wake of finding out that Jungkook’s mysterious crush is you.

Maybe, just maybe, you like him too.

…

You’re gonna pursue him.

THURSDAY, WEEK 7

It seems that Jungkook has heard that his crush on you has been leaked, because you’ve been trying to track him down and confirm it ever since last week and he’s been avoiding you like the plague. You think you see him kicking up dust as he retreats as fast as his legs will take him around hallway corners when he sees you at the other end, you catch glimpses of him across courtyards as he spins and flees in the opposite directions. A part of you wonders whether its because he does indeed have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you know, of whether it’s because he doesn’t have a crush on you and is embarrassed that you might think he does.

Well, you can’t know until you talk to him and it seems like you won’t be able to talk to him unless you ambush him in the men’s toilets or something. Which, by the way, isn’t something you’re going to do because even though your friends might be crazy, you’re most definitely not.

It was even to the point that Jungkook missed the first two practices after you found out, and you have no doubt that he would have avoided you by missing even more had Yoongi not threatened him with adding a crop top to his punishment attire should he miss another practice. He’d showed up for the next one but every time he came within five metres of you he blushed and kept his eyes to the ground, fleeing as soon as he can.

It’s a little bit frustrating, and he’s still cute when he acts all shy, but you really wish you could track him down just so you know whether its true or not.

Perhaps, with time, he’ll grow a little less skittish and let you get close enough to start a conversation. You just have to hold out hope that a moment will come that will allow you to start bridging things back together with the two of you.

FRIDAY, WEEK 7

That moment comes sooner than you expect when, just the next day, you round a corner alongside Seulgi, having just come from the women’s locker rooms, and walk straight into someone. It’s like walking into a brick wall and kind of hurts. You stumble and let out a sound in pained surprise, but manage to stay on your feet for the most part— the joy at that moment of success passes quickly when you become aware of the cool feeling seeping down your thigh and stomach.

Before even looking to see who you walked into, your gaze is directed down to see what was spilt on you— it’s light pink, and the sugary sweet scent that brushes your nose and sticky sensation that begins to make itself known on your skin are something you recognise instantly.

Strawberry milk.

You look up in something akin to horror, but the expression all but falls from your face when you see who the culprit is.

Jungkook stands there looking very much like a deer caught in headlights, drink carton crumpled and empty in his hand now that its contents are all over your front. As you gaze at him you watch the tip of his ears turn bright red, eyes wide and so unguarded you swear you can see the thoughts whipping through his mind beyond them. You also see the instant regret and mortification that washes over his boyish features as he realises what has just happened and who he has spilt his drink on.

“y-y/n—” he stutters, voice caught in his throat. Whatever he was planning on saying is quickly overpowered by an obnoxious voice from his side.

You hadn’t even noticed Yoongi was walking alongside Jungkook until you hear him speak, “Wow, you know what you were coming around that corner so hard and fast that this is on you, y/n.”

When Yoongi first started talking, Jungkook had seemed relieved, but now a sense of panic has taken over his features.

“N-no! I am so sorry! This was my fault, I shouldn’t have had it open when I couldn’t even drink it yet. I just really like strawberry milk, and…” He’s so endearingly remorseful as he speaks, big puppy eyes looking apologetically into your own like he’s searching for any hint of forgiveness there to spare.

For a moment you’re absolutely blindsided by the way he just made your heart squeeze in your chest with how damn cute he is, but you recover just in time to catch it as the shocked expression on Yoongi’s face melds into something devious and fitting for his bastardly title.

“Right, he’s right, totally our bad,” Yoongi says, doing a complete 180 and bewildering both you and Seulgi beside you. “Wow, look at your pants, totally soaked through man. Here, come with me— it’s only fair we help grab you something to change into.”

“What—” you don’t get to finish before the cat-faced bastard grabs you by the arm and begins dragging you down the hall in the direction you came from. Seulgi and Jungkook remain in place, stunned by the turn in events.

“Jungkook, head to practice and get them started! I want some pyramid practice, and then some tumbling from you and the others. Chop chop!” — is all Yoongi throws over his shoulder in dismissal, dragging you where you now realise is one of the other locker rooms. You gape at him as he walks straight up to the one that has been locked for months and opens it with a key.

Catching your expression, he shrugs. “Sometimes you just need a place of your own to hoard things.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about until you step in and see a table in the corner near the doorway piled high with first aid supplies, twiggy sticks and energy drinks. Your bewildered subsequent scan of the room for more treasured objects is cut short when a lump of clothing smacks you in the face.

You just barely manage to fumble it into your grasp, unable to swallow your groan when you see what it is from the pattern alone.

“It’s the only thing spare,” Yoongi says, radiating true goblin energy. You don’t trust him as far as you can throw him right now but you don’t know where to look to disprove him. “Try not to get my cheerleaders too worked up.”

You have an inkling as to why he’s done this from his words, but can’t confirm it right now. You huff, moving off to one of the stalls.

“If people get flashed, that’s on you.”

Ten minutes later sees you back in the open gymnasium with cool air brushing your legs that usually only get to see the light of day through rips in your jeans. You set your team to their tasks and drills already, so now you’re left alone with your thoughts. You know for sure now why Yoongi made you change into the cheerleading skirt.

Because ever since you walked out in it and nearly made him fall flat on his face in shock, Jungkook hasn’t been able to keep the blush off his cheeks or his eyes away from you for more than a few minutes at a time. You feel slightly empowered, contrary to how you thought the dangerously short piece of clothing was going to make you feel.

You have a nice body, you’re comfortable admitting it, and the way that your unplanned flaunting of it seems to be affecting Jungkook… well it’s a nice stroke of the ego, you won’t lie, but it also makes your stomach flip giddily. God, you want him. You’ve always thought he was cute but ever since he joined cheer and rocked up in that skirt like a sweet, hot fool, it was over for you. He’s so… ugh.

Trucking through the practice of your team is, for once, a struggle. It’s so hard not to look over every few seconds to catch Jungkook when you can feel his gaze on you, and you know that once you give in you won’t be able to help being distracted afterwards. It’s a miracle you get through to the end of it while remaining sane.

As your practice wraps up for the day, you allow yourself a glimpse to the side at last. What you see is a sweaty, panting Jungkook, the muscles of his arms straining as he holds up a brunette you vaguely recall as Tzuyu above his head. Wow, you’re actually a little startled at how much arousal just washed through you— is this normal? Maybe you’re more whipped than you thought. You don’t know.

What you do know, however, is that you want that boy, and right now especially you want to mess with him. Call it a con of being around such bastardous friends all the time, but you’re really feeling the urge. You barely manage to hold yourself back, marvelling at the animal he seems to reduce you to with just a flex of his bicep.

The practice for your basketball team finishes before cheerleading; Yoongi is a ruthless coach and relentless when it comes to formations and perfecting routines. More often than not their practices end long after yours. As your girls begin to filter out of the gymnasium, the cheer squad are still going. You make to follow after, but your name is called from the other side of the gym by a voice you recognise but know instantly shouldn’t be here.

“y/n! Come here! Don’t ignore me!” Seokjin is the fiend in question, hollering at such an unmistakable frequency that you couldn’t ignore it if you tried. It’s like he’s followed in the footsteps of cats and has pinpointed the exact frequency that a baby’s cry is at, and is now using it to his advantage. You turn, wary, and see him waving like a dumbass. “Come here! Don’t make me pspspsps!”

Now annoyed, you stomp over if only so you can get within beating range. As soon as you reach a few feet away he ducks behind Yoongi though, so you don’t get to follow through on your caveman instincts to beat him over the head with a rock.

“What?” you ask, giving him a stinky look. “Are you like, stalking me or something? Why are you so obsessed with me?”

You can tell he wants to laugh, but his instinct to rile you up overpowers the humour of what you said. “You think you’re worth stalking? I don’t need to stalk you to know that your day consists almost entirely of eating, shitting, and staring at a certain ass.”

Well, he has you there. You shrug, “I’m a simple girl.”

Seokjin is momentarily bewildered that you didn’t rise to his bait and Yoongi chokes on his laughter beside you, the sound coming out squeaky. You’re glad someone is laughing, it makes your dick hard when people find you funny. Again, you’re a simple girl.

“Nice outfit, by the way,” Seokjin says. Apparently it doesn’t take him long to recover, and he’s already shifted topics.

Yoongi, who had broken away to guide his team for a moment, chimes back in at the taller male’s comment. “It’s all apart of the keikaku, man. Everything is going perfectly. My golden boy is almost too fun to torment. I’ve tasted power and now I don’t know how to stop.”

“Who?” Seokjin asks, more out of habit than anything, before looking over to Yoongi’s minions and letting out a sound of realisation. “Ahh… Mister Jungkook.”

You swear you see the male in question, who is waiting his turn to begin the tumbling routine Yoongi has changed them onto, stiffen. You’re not sure whether it is a trick of the light or not, though, because in the next second he’s shuffling forward to second in line, juggling his weight from foot to foot with restless energy. His eyes are trained on his teammates flipping across the matts.

“So you know too? y/n, you big-mouthed whore!” Seokjin exclaims, pinning you with an exaggerated look of scandal. Jungkook trips slightly in his step as he moves to the front of the line, barely a few metres away.

You don’t bother defending yourself, since Yoongi speaks before you can anyway. “That y/n likes Jungkook and has wanted to peg his cute ass since forever? Yeah, I know.”

The timing of Yoongi’s response is truly unfortunate. As he started speaking, Jungkook began his run up— and it seems that whatever snippet he heard as he started were enough to throw him off completely. He goes into the front flip kind of wonky, and you have a feeling of dread creep up as you watch him.

He doesn’t do the mid-air turns he is meant to, and instead goes to land after just one flip— the timing is off, though, and your breath hisses through your teeth and you physically cringe as you watch his ankle roll upon landing.

“Ah SHIT!” he yelps, quickly dropping to the mat and removing pressure from his foot. You feel frozen as you watch, a large number of his teammates running over and asking him if he’s okay.

“Oh feck,” Yoongi says, checking his watch as he mutters to himself. “Shit. Okay we need to practice and only have the gym for another forty-five minutes, but he needs that looked at asap. Who…”

Barely a split-second passes before he’s looking right at you imploringly, with an inappropriately devious glint in the back of his eyes.

“y/n, you’re free and you have first aid training right? Can you take him to get that wrapped and iced up?” He’s not even done asking you before he’s pushing you in the direction of the male currently curled on the floor. “That room should still be open— I forgot to lock it earlier.”

“Wait, I actually have—” you’re about to let him know about the mountain of schoolwork you have to catch up on, but of course he’s not having any of it. He’s already barking at his squad.

“Okay, everyone, back off and back to tumbling! y/n here will take care of our golden boy, we have the gym for the next forty-five minutes and we’re gonna make the most of it, damn it!”

Yoongi abandons you at Jungkook’s side, and at his command the rest of the cheerleader begrudgingly disperse— you think you catch a few of the female ones giving you the stink eye at their lost opportunity, and you know it shouldn’t stroke your ego but still it does.

“I guess this is how the Kookie crumbled, huh,” you say, embarrassed that he could have heard all of what Yoongi said and attempting to cope using the classic— humour.

Jungkook, who had turned his wide eyes and red face to you the second you started talking, now seems to be blushing harder. Evidently, for a number of reasons, he is mortified. It’s like he’s trying to hide behind the long curls that have fallen into his face. Needless to say, it’s not successful, and now both of you are embarrassed. One of you needs to take the lead.

But right now neither of you are wearing the pants.

“Alright, let’s get that looked at,” you say, wincing as you look at his ankle already beginning to swell. “Arms up.”

He obeys instantly and without question, and you’re torn between the primal powers within you wanting to both cuddle him and to drop your panties then and there.

Getting Jungkook to a standing position while he can only use one leg is harder than you could have imagined, but you know that there’s no way you would have been able to lift him had he not helped you carry his weight. Once he’s upright and his arm is around your shoulder (still panting slightly and glistening with sweat, as you’re trying not to think about) you begin the arduous journey to the locker room Yoongi showed you earlier.

Jungkook doesn’t really say anything during the trip there, and neither do you— except he has an excuse, considering he’s probably in a fair bit of pain right now. You don’t have an excuse, except that you’re trying desperately not to think about how you can feel each hard line of his body against you right now. It’s a whole-brain engaging kind of activity.

Thankfully, the room is unlocked as Yoongi said, and you grab a towel to lay across one of the cleaner looking benches on the far side of the room— just because its cleaner than the others doesn’t mean it’s clean, per se. You smile when you see Jungkook’s thankful expression.

“Right,” you say, staying in front of where he’s sitting for a moment as you shake your arms out; the boy really is just all muscle, honestly. “Pop your ankle up on the bench, and I’ll grab some ice and stuff to wrap it.”

Jungkook nods, obeying wordlessly. His cheeks still are tainted the slightest pink, and he’s making a point to avoid meeting your gaze. Fighting a smile, you move to Yoongi’s stash and grab what you need, spotting some high-end painkillers and immediately adding them to the pile in your arms.

When you return to his side, you seat yourself on the bench beside his leg— thankfully, they’re wide enough that neither your butt nor Jungkook’s leg has to be sacrificed for the fit. You go through the motions with him, poking and prodding and bending to assess the damage; it’s just a bad sprain, but damn if each watery look he gets at the pain doesn’t make you want to coddle him to death.

Surprisingly, he’s still silent as you go about icing and wrapping his ankle. You contemplated filling the silence but you’re not good at chit chat or small talk, so refrain and settle for humming softly instead. Considering the rollercoaster of feelings he’s spun you through today, you’re almost disappointed that a wrap on his ankle is all that’s going to come of this.

Which is stupid, of course. You know. You digress.

You’re still somewhat disappointed as you finish up, popping the excess bandage back in its container. “Okay! You’ll need to…”

You make the mistake of meeting his gaze, and for once he doesn’t shy away from it— there’s something about them, the endless chocolate depths and the doe-eyed look, that completely disarms you for a moment. Blinking, it takes all your might to stop yourself from studying as you continue. “Ahem, uh… you’ll need to keep it elevated, when possible. Compressing it is ideal. Also, for swelling, ice it for 20-30 minutes every 2-3 hours for the first day or so…”

He blinks up at you, and you smile. “Any questions?”

Something intriguing crosses his gaze and he bites his lip, flushing slightly. Oh, he is doing a number on your willpower. You need to get out of here.

“Yeah, uh…” He clears his throat, continuing straight away. You watch even more colour rush to his cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “About earlier… when I stacked it… Was what Yoongi said true?”

Well. You were not… expecting that. For a moment you’re stunned into silence, self control hanging by a thread. “What… Yoongi said?”

Jungkook gives you a look like he can’t believe you’re making him say it. “That you, um…”

Humiliated but deciding to face it head on, you ask him with your own cheeks heating, “Are you asking about the pegging or the, uh… the liking you part?”

To your surprise, Jungkook chokes and stiffens in place, eyes shooting wide and face and ears going beet red. “I, um… I only heard the liking part…”

OH. Well. You kind of want to die, but… at least now he knows?

…You’re gonna throw yourself off a bridge.

He must mistake the cause of your silence for something else, because he seems to panic. “B-because, um, I know you know how I feel, and it’s okay if you don’t um— I was just wondering—”

In the midst of his spiel, you take a seat on the bench, closer to him than you were last time. It only makes him grow more flustered before you press a finger to his lips to shush him. He gets the message and falls silent instantly, making your heart skip a beat at his ready obedience. God, are you an animal?! Really?!

“I was trying to track you down to confirm it, you know,” you say, shoving your embarrassment into a box in the far reaches of your mind. Time to swallow your pride. “But you kept avoiding me.”

Jungkook’s eyes are still wide. “Oh… sorry.”

You smile at his soft, uttered apology. Testingly, tentatively, you shift your hand and rest it on his hip. His whole body stiffens once more, but its more in surprise than discomfort. “What would you do if it was true, hm?”

Like a deer caught in headlights, he’s momentarily speechless. When your thumb rubs against the hard line of his hip bone, drawing a shudder, he jerks back into motion.

“Oh my god, you—” he’s dazed before he narrows his eyes at you, voice dropping to a whisper that’s somewhat tinged with hurt. “Are you teasing me?”

You manage to hold back the laugh but can’t help the smile that rises at his words. “I always get the urge to tease you, Jungkook, but it’s not to be cruel.” You lean forward, holding his gaze. “I probably never grew out of that kindergarten stage.”

It takes a second for what you said to sink in. The way that hope enters his eyes is so cute that you’re humiliated at the urge to squeal that rises. “So, you…”

It’s embarrassing to say the words out loud, especially considering the filth running through your mind right now, and you can’t quite bring yourself to. Teasingly, you bring your other hand to his thigh, brushing the edge of the skirt with your thumb and enjoying the way he shivers. “It’s embarrassing to say out loud, so if you want to hear it, you’re gonna have to work for it.”

The soft, excited gasp he lets out emboldens you to carry out your next action— you move the hand on his hip, brushing your fingertips up the side of his slim waist before bringing them back down to rest over his crotch.

To your complete and utter surprise, there is already some firmness there that greets you. At your curious gaze, he flushes pink.

“It’s the skirt,” he confesses, averting his gaze to your lap for the briefest second. “You look really good in it…”

Not that your ego needs more stroking, but you’re happy to let it happen anyway. You hum, beginning to move your hand— he stifles a gasp.

“I know,” you say, grinning. It’s ridiculous how your stomach flips, arousal beginning to trickle into your abdomen and ache in the apex of your thighs. “I could feel you looking at me. I caught you a few times, too.”

He’s embarrassed, you can tell, but the current situation doesn’t leave much room for dignity as it is anyway. Still, you can’t help but tease him some more, voice soft as you rub over his growing bulge and lean closer. “Do you always look at me, Jungkook?”

He squirms, a gasp slipping out before he attempts to send you a glare. “This is embarrassing,” he whines. You raise a brow, increasing the pressure of your hand, and he is quick to amend his response in a whisper, “…Yes.”

“And what do you imagine, when you look at me?” you ask, unable to deny the thrill running through your veins and lighting heat in your abdomen. You pause your ministrations only to move your hand to the top of his skirt and slip beneath the material. This time a moan slips out before he can stop it. “Is it things like this?”

He lets his head fall back against the wall, looking at you through hazy, lidded eyes. “Yes,” he admits, and for how readily he supplied the answer you reward him by slipping your hand beneath the rest of the layers over his hips and wrapping your fingers around his hardening length.

He whines— actually whines— and rolls his hips into your hand, thick thigh tensing beneath the grip of your other hand. The resulting wash of arousal that floods over you is so sudden it almost makes you dizzy.

“Oh, you’re a good boy,” you mutter it without much thought, but surprise filters through you when you feel his length twitch and flush with heat in your hold at the words. Ah— he likes a bit of praise, does he? You slide your free hand up his thigh, working the waistband of his skirt and bike shorts down until they rest just past the beginning of his thighs. It’s like you’re looking at a work of art, you marvel slightly— the curls that begin to trail down a little below his belly button, the sculpted line of his hip bones and the hints of his abs that show as his body tenses. You’re just one woman.

“Does it feel as good as you imagined, Jungkook?” you aimed to speak louder but it comes out sort of breathy. You trail your fingers down the tan skin of his abdomen before gripping the material of his bottoms and using the moment to free his length.

If you didn’t have such a firm grip on it, you know it would have sprung back against his stomach— you try not to let your surprise show, either, because you could feel that he was packing, but seeing it is another thing and your stomach flips in giddy anticipation. Jungkook’s chest heaves as his breath quickens, eyes boring into you and hands bunching in the material of the punishment skirt. You stroke your hand along his length, pressing your thumb along the underside and relishing in the shudder it elicits.

“y/n,” he whines softly, face flushing as his cock twitches in your hold. Whether he’s forgotten you even asked a question or simply is too overwhelmed to answer right now, you don’t know.

As for how you’re doing— you’re so turned on right now that in all honesty you don’t know what to do with yourself. A solution comes to mind quickly and you don’t have the usual self control you do to stop yourself.

Mindful of his injured leg, you rise, keeping your grip on him as you do so. His lidded gaze follows you, soft gasps escaping him all the while.

“Give me your leg,” you instruct, relishing how quickly he listens. Presented with his thigh, you swing one of your legs over the other side of the bench and rest on it so that as little weight as possible is on his bad leg, your knees brushing his hips. As soon as you’re lowered, you can’t help but gasp and roll your hips— the only thing separating you and the smooth skin and hard muscle of his thigh is the thin layer of your damp panties, and the stimulation on your clit makes your entire core throb in arousal.

Apparently this is also one of the things he’s imagined, because Jungkook lets out a low, gasping moan and rolls his hips up into your hand— which, of course, makes his thigh muscles tense and shift, rubbing oh so nicely against your clit. You almost fall off from the jolt of pleasure that shoots up your spine, free hand shooting to grab his bicep, “Ah, Jungkook!”

He apparently has the sense of mind to support you by using the arm in your hold to reach and grip your hip. Generous amounts of precum have started to bead at his tip, and you drag your hand up his girth, collecting it on your thumb and smearing it down his length for lubrication. It elicits a whine, another roll of his hips, and like that you settle into a rhythm of sorts.

“y/n.” Each gasp and moan he lets out have to be specially designed to ruin you, you decide. He seeks your gaze with hazy, lust-ridden eyes. “Please kiss me.”

It’s a brazen request coming from him of all people, and you’re all too happy to oblige. You lean forward, the rock of your hips making you shudder, and connect his lips with your own— he’d sought your kiss as you did so, craning his neck forward and awaiting your lips. It’s a heated kiss from the beginning, given the situation— you don’t fight for dominance so much as assume it from the start. Each press of your tongue, graze of your teeth, has a new sound tumbling from his throat and into your mouth. It makes your heart race even harder than it already was.

It doesn’t take long for tension to begin to build in your abdomen, and you know if you’re already feeling it then he must be even closer. Not wanting this to end just yet, you force yourself to slow your hand down, breaking the kiss and shifting to press your mouth to his neck.

“Wh-what—” he gasps, shuddering as your thumb plays with his slit, rhythm slowed to a stop. Both of you are panting, almost, and you suckle a mark into the junction of his neck before pulling back with a grin.

“Surely that isn’t all you’ve imagined, Jungkook.” You lean forward, pressing a brief kiss to his mouth before pulling back— the way he chases your lips makes your heart squeeze. “What now? Be a good boy, tell me.”

Far from being embarrassed at this point and all but a slave to the haze of lust in the air, Jungkook’s breath hitches and he responds, somewhat tentative if anything, “… ride me.”

“Good boy,” you breathe, offering him a proud smile. He preens beneath your fond look.

You shift, and you think that he must have expected you to stand up fully and remove your clothes, or at least your bottoms, but to his surprise you simply shuffle up and reach beneath your skirt, slipping your panties aside and aligning his member with your entrance. You’re so turned on that you’ve soaked through your underwear, and you know you’ve smeared enough precum along his length that lubrication will be no problem. So you simply lower yourself down until his head parts your lips and begins to sink into you.

At the sheer size of him even as just the tip enters your cunt, you have to halt, gasping, “Fuck!”

If he wanted to respond, you don’t really give him time to; as soon as you get your bearings you continue sinking down onto him. There is a slight burn, of course, but you’re so turned on that it fades quicker than you can register. The sensation of him, the throb, his girth and the way he splits your walls, stretching you more and more as you seat yourself on him— it’s indescribable, and all you can offer is that it feels so good you swear tears are gonna prick at your eyes. From the look on his face, brows scrunched and mouth parted as a long, low groan slips out, you know it must feel just as good for him.

When the back of your thighs press against the top of his his and he’s fully sheathed in you, you feel like you’re about to lose your mind— this position has him so deep in your pussy that with each miniscule shift the tip of his cock presses against a spot that sends delicious jolts of pleasure up your spine. Honestly, if you weren’t so intent on seeing this through, you think you could cum from that sensation alone.

Even as you’re in a mess of pleasure and a haze of desire, you can’t help but tease him some more. You clench your insides, rolling your hips— the sharp, lilting moan he lets out makes your stomach flip. “What now, baby boy?”

You hold his hips down with your hand, feeling them twitch with the urge to rock up into you. A long, drawn groan escapes him. “Do you want to see me? More of me? Or do you want to feel me?”

You take his hand into your hold and guide it up to your chest, slipping it beneath your shirt and bra to cup your breast. His breath hitches, lashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he blinks and attempts to clear the haze from his vision. You relish in the control you have over him until his thumb brushes your nipple and he pinches it, tweaking it instinctively. A moan tears from you, the shock of pleasure that results making you clench around him again; his free hand scrambles for purchase against your thigh, fingers digging in as pleasure washes over him in turn.

Your breath is coming a little faster now. Leaving his hand at your chest, you move it to drag up his neck before threading your fingers in the damp curls at the back of his neck. Finding a firm grip, you tug his head back ever so lightly— it elicits a new moan that you haven’t heard yet, and you really begin to think this boy will be your undoing.

“What do you want?” you ask again, rolling your hips once more. It isn’t fair of you, you know, since you can hardly think yourself from the sensations. “You want me to move, baby boy?”

He nods, attempting to speak through the moan caught in his throat. “Please… fuck me, y/n.”

Well, who are you to say no to that?

Happy to oblige, you engage your thighs and begin to rise— the sensation of him dragging against your walls makes both of you gasp, and you almost falter in your movements from the feeling alone. Gathering your wits as best as you can, you continue your movements, successfully rising and then seating yourself once more. Unable to withhold much longer, you roll your hips and begin to set the two of you into a rhythm.

You stopped paying heed to the noises escaping you a while ago, but you don’t doubt that the sinful sounds tumbling from Jungkook’s mouth as you ride him are a large contributor to the way the tension in your abdomen quickly begins to knot and bundle once more.

Even with as heavenly as it feels, it’s hard to keep up momentum when your thighs begin to burn. Thankfully, Jungkook has more than enough stamina in his thigh muscles for the both of you, and when he senses your fatigue, he brings his grip to your hips to hold them in place before rocking his own up and beginning to fuck up into you.

Needless to say, the pace he sets is much faster and much harder than the one you had. Swears tumble softly from your mouth at the change in intensity of pleasure as it shoots through you, orgasm already approaching much faster than anticipated. Your hands come to grip his on your hips with a cry of his name, knees turning to jelly.

Movement against your hand surprises you, but not as much as the sensation of Jungkook’s hand shifting to thread his fingers with yours. You honestly feel your heart burst, and as he fucks up into you that bit harder you can’t help the way you clutch his hand like a lifeline, the sweet moment quick to pass but most definitely not forgotten.

“G-gonna cum,” you gasp, eyes closing and allowing the slap of skin and Jungkook’s gasping moans to overtake your senses. You don’t forget to indulge him in some praise. “Such a g-good boy, making me feel so g-good.”

He whines at your words, and right as your pleasure approaches its peak you feel his hips stutter and slam up into yours harder than all the times before. The stimulation of that spot deep inside of you is all that’s needed to push you into the throes of your orgasm, and it washes over you more intensely than you’ve ever felt before as you clench and tense with a cry of his name.

Distantly, you feel his own grip on you tighten, and his hips still as they’re pressed against yours. Warmth floods your core, cock throbbing as he empties inside you, and you swear you hear the softest of confessions uttered to the air as he joins you in your high.

He comes down before you do, although you’re not far behind him, and for a moment you sit in place, panting and attempting to come back to your senses. He’s softened inside you slightly, but when you shift and clench on instinct as you do so, feeling cum slide down your thighs, he twitches and throbs inside you.

Taken aback, your gaze whips to him and now that his shame has returned to him, he has the decency to blush. Well, apparently Jeon Jungkook’s stamina really is no joke. Maybe he really was born to be an athlete.

“Greedy. You want more?” There’s a teasing lilt to your voice, and a thrilling mix of fear and excitement dances in his eyes.

“y/n—” he rasps, desperate. You slide off of him, making both of you groan, but return to your previous position on his thigh. He moans as he feels his own cum leak out of you and onto his skin. When your hand comes to wrap around his slick member, he jolts and whines.

“You wanna tell me what you said just before?” you ask, beginning to twist your wrist and stroke his cock ever so slowly. He shakes his head, whether at your question or the overstimulation, you’re not sure— you know it’s probably a bit of both though, considering he twitches in your hold.

“‘S embarrassing,” he murmurs, back arching as you increase your pace just a little. “Ah, y/n!”

“I see. You know, I think I can get you to cum again,” you say, changing tactics.

Jungkook shakes his head, strands of his raven hair plastered to his forehead in sweat. “I can’t—”

“You should tell me,” you say, teasing lilt to your tone. He whines, rocking his hips into and then away from the sensations.

When he shakes his head again, letting it fall back against the wall and baring the column of his throat to you, you jump on his acceptance of the situation. You pick up speed, rolling your wrist and moving in tune with the shifting of his body. It doesn’t take very long before his oversensitivity throws him into another orgasm, stronger than the last but dryer. The few beads of cum that escape seem ever so tantalising as they roll down his length, drawing your gaze.

“You gonna tell me now?” you ask, already knowing the answer. Jungkook slumps against the wall, breathing heavy and sweat glistening on his golden skin. He looks at you through heavily lidded eyes.

“It’s still embarrassing,” he whines, breathy in his exertion.

Right, well. You know what he said, but you want to hear him say it with his own mouth once more and you’ll stay here all night to make that happen if you need to.

Of course, it’s not until a while and another heated moment or two later that Jungkook realises this and gives in.

His confession is so much sweeter on your ears the second time, and of course, as promised, you reward him with your own. It’s worth it for the way it makes his eyes shine, you think.

Jeon Jungkook really has you well and truly whipped.

a/n: thank u for reading and i hope u liked it! im super excited to have completed my first commission and would really appreciate it if u let me know what u think by sending me an ask and liking & rbing this with ur thoughts!! i read & appreciate everything!! thank u !! love u !! peace out !! :D

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feelyourhearttakingroot · 3 years

Text

The Reader's Guide to Avoiding Redfly (and how to have a good time doing it)

“How’re you doing, kid?” Tom murmured in your ear. Your skin hadn’t started crawling yet, but it definitely would soon.

“Redfly, leave the girl alone.”

A third voice - the voice of God himself, if it meant that Tom would let you go.

Summary: Your friend Dina is dating Benny Miller, and drags you along to one of his fights before a night at a bar. His friends meet you there - Tom ‘Redfly’ Davis, who is too busy trying it on with you to think about his wife; Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia, who is a god made flesh; and Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales, who agrees to help keep you out of Redfly’s clutches. But Frankie is not without his own charm...

Relationships: Frankie Morales x reader, side Santiago Garcia x Original Female Character, side Benny Miller x Original Female Character

Rating: First chapter is Mature, but it will be getting Explicit after that...

Author’s note: I saw Triple Frontier last week for the first time and it has occupied my every waking thought since then. This is my first ‘x reader’ fic, so feedback is appreciated. Benny is my darling boy and I want to write him a loving af relationship even if it’s in the bg of this fic. I also don’t mean to step on toes but Redfly is the worst man and deserved to die a lot earlier than he did in the film. I am also obviously obsessed with Frankie Morales. Sorry if the formatting is fucked, this is the first fic I’ve posted directly to Tumblr in many’a.

Warnings: 18+ for frequent language, she/her pronouns, future smut but this chapter is just teasing.

Read on AO3.

Chapter One

The Fight

“The fight ends at 9pm, so we’ll be good to get to the bar by 9.30,” Dina said, leaning to within a hair's breadth of the bathroom mirror. Your arms twitched, hands opening and closing as you watched the safety pin come even closer to her eyeball.

“Dina, do you have to- the fight?”

“Yes, I need to separate my eyelashes, and yes, the fight.” She said, tongue peeping out between her lips. “Benny is fighting and he’s going to come with us to the bar afterwards.”

Your heart sank, just a little. Benny was a great guy, and you were happy for Dina, but it was always harder to get into bars when Benny ‘Brick Shithouse’ Miller rocked up with facial wounds and an ego after inevitably winning the fight.

Apparently their post-fight sex was insane.

“So it’s you, me, and Benny?” you asked flatly, and she rolled her eyes in a way that made your hands clench into fists, with a vivid mental image of the pin sinking into her eyeball. She ignored you, of course, and started on the bottom lid.

“No, you prick,” she said, teasing each lash apart. She paused, and winked at you through the mirror “Ha. Prick! Get it? Sandy, Amy and Kelly are joining us - and Benny is bringing his friends.”

“William and Tom?” You were trying so hard not to be a downer, you really were, but you’d met William and Tom before and it was not a great experience. William - Benny’s brother - was aesthetically pleasing, and a lovely guy, but way too earnest about the purity of combat, while Tom was… a douche. A douche who clearly enjoyed his nights away from the wife a little too much. “Great.”

“Not just Will and Tom,” she chided, finally putting down the pin and fluttering her eyelashes at her reflection. “A few of his old squad guys are coming too.”

“OK then,” you said, and turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Dina called.

“To get another drink.”

Based on the MMA prelude, you decided to rethink your outfit to something a bit less… showy, and had poured yourself into a skintight skirt with a shirt that helped accentuate your decolletage just right. So right, in fact, that you’d forgone a sensible coat in favour of a leather jacket that didn’t even close properly. The clothes did little to shield you from the cold, which explained why you had chugged nearly half a bottle of Smirnoff in the cab over.

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

Dina looked every inch the fighter’s girlfriend, she really did. You didn’t even know she owned a faux-fur coat. Her meticulously-separated eyelashes were currently fluttered together, shielding her eyes from her cigarette smoke.

Not that it helped. Your buzz was fading fast with every second you stood out in the freezing cold parking lot.

Sandy hadn’t bothered to change her outfit - “Fuck it, it can’t be any dirtier than the bar.” - and was leaning against the arena wall wearing a mini dress that practically showed what she had eaten for breakfast. The woman had legs up to her neck, and more than one man had slowed his passage into the arena to get a good look. Sandy, with legs that long since she was fifteen, and a face that had been beautiful her whole life, flipped each one off with a casual laziness you could never hope to emulate.

The three of you were standing outside the arena waiting for Tom and the others to arrive. The crowd was known to get rowdy, and Benny had been very firm with Dina about going in with his friends. William was already inside with Benny, prepping him for the fight.

It was so cold you were nearly tempted to ask Dina for a pull of her cigarette, just to feel some warm air, when -

“Dee!”

Your face locked into a grimace, and you looked down to kick a loose pebble from under your shoe, trying to regain control of your facial muscles by the time Tom got close.

“Tommy!” Dina yelled. “You’re late, what the hell?”

“Don’t blame me,” Tom said, “Blame these assholes.”

Two sets of denim-wrapped legs stepped into your view, and you huffed out a little sigh before looking up. Tom was standing in front of you, with his friend on his right.

His friend. Who was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. He smiled at you, and you felt a small laugh escape you.

What was that face? He looked like a Latino George Clooney. How did he get taken seriously in life?

“Hey, tiger,” Tom said to you, his lopsided smile showing a little too much teeth on one side.

“Hey… Tom.” you replied, raising a hand in greeting. He made a little ‘pfft’ sound and pulled you in for a hug, enveloping you in the smell of… dear god, was that Axe?

You heard the crunch of gravel, and a movement out of the corner of your eye told you that the devilishly handsome man was currently introducing himself to Sandy.

Probably wouldn’t have worked out with us anyway.

“How’re you doing, kid?” Tom murmured in your ear. Your skin hadn’t started crawling yet, but it definitely would soon.

“Redfly, leave the girl alone.”

A third voice - the voice of God himself, if it meant that Tom would let you go.

“This is my girl right here, Frankie.” Tom said, and the proprietary tone in his voice made your stomach turn. You should have just met them at the bar.

“Crazy, I thought your girl was sitting at home looking after your daughter and -” the second half of the sentence was in mumbled Spanish, and you heard a bark of laughter from the handsome man. A quick, rough pat on the back and Tom released you, already walking into the building as if nothing had happened.

The speaker was standing in front of you; a tall-ish man wearing a blue plaid shirt over a grey tank top, with a beat-up baseball cap on his head. Just as the phrase ‘hillbilly trucker’ crossed your mind, every thought in your head promptly vanished on looking up into his face. A pair of warm brown eyes were gazing down at you, creasing gently at the corners. He wasn’t built like Tom or William; they slanted more towards beefcake, where this guy was toned and slim. He was older than you - not a surprise, William and Tom were in at least their mid-40s - but it was a very manageable older. Unruly, curling brown hair peeked out from under his cap, and the man smiled, a shadow of a dimple appearing on his cheek.

The other guy was crazy good-looking in a movie-star way, the sort of hot that had made you laugh because it was almost unreal. This guy was the perfect side of handsome, mortal enough to take your breath away just a little and not make you feel stupid about it.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m Frankie.”

Maybe it was the dimples, maybe it was the fact that he had just saved you from a fate worse than death, or maybe the cold had finally gotten to your brain. Whatever it was, you barely knew what you were saying until you’d said it:

“And I am so fucking yours.”

So much for not feeling stupid. His smile widened, and your heartbeat quickened just a bit.

“Ignore Redfly,” he said. “He just doesn’t have good manners.”

Another burst of Spanish from behind you, from the dark-eyed Adonis near the door, and Frankie replied in kind, with an evocative hand gesture that you were pretty sure meant ‘fuck off’.

You finally turned to get a good look at the other man. He was standing in front of your friends, angled towards Sandy in a way that boded well for her. He was terribly good-looking.

“Hey, how’re you doing?” he leaned toward you, and took your hand in his. “Santiago Garcia.”

The man was on another level. You felt like you were meeting a politician. You told him your name as if in a dream.

“That’s a beautiful name,” he said, looking into your soul, and you felt that laugh bubble up again. This was too much all at once.

Dina blew out one last plume of smoke, and threw her cigarette butt on the ground.

“Come on guys, it’s fucking freezing out here.”

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

The arena was chaos. Tom was nowhere to be seen, but he could have been standing two feet from you and you wouldn’t have seen him. He could have been behind you.

As the thought crossed your mind, a hand came to rest on your hip and you jumped sideways, ready to kick Tom in the fucki-

It was Frankie, hands suddenly up and visible, mouth framing a ‘whoa’ that you could never hear over the din of the crowd. You grimaced, mouthing sorry.

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, uncomfortable, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He craned his neck to look over the crowd, toward the ring, and you stepped quickly toward him. Your hand raised, like you had the right answer in a classroom, and you tilted your mouth up towards Frankie’s ear. He scrunched his face and bent his head towards yours.

“Sorry,” you said into his ear, trying not to deafen him at this range. He smelled warm, and clean, a welcome respite from the arena’s smell of old beer and sweat. “I thought it might be…” one of your best friends, whom I loathe. “... a creep.” you finished lamely.

When you pulled away, he was looking at you so intently that a blush started to creep up your neck. Hands still in his pockets, he rocked back and forth on his heels as he processed what you said. His tongue worked in his mouth, pushing out his cheek, before he winked ever so slightly, and nodded.

He knew. He damn well knew.

Frankie grinned and pointed towards the ring, to where your friends had disappeared, before nudging you forward.

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

Dina and the others were sitting ringside, by Benny’s corner. Dina had shrugged her coat in the sticky closeness of the arena, and was adjusting her top for maximum cleavage. Beside her was Sandy, deep in conversation with Santiago, and Tom sat beside Santiago next to an empty chair.

The single empty chair.

Fucks sake.

Tom saw you both coming, and had a look of fake disappointment on his face that your hands twitched to slap off. He held his hands up in defeat, before patting his thigh. A quick scan showed that this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in the arena; the place was jammed so tightly that you counted at least seven people on laps in this section alone. A fire hazard, and a pain in the ass.

You’re fucking kidding me.

You went to take a step, and felt a hand grip your arm. Frankie was sliding past you on your right, pivoting to sit in the empty chair. A shit-eating grin slid onto Tom’s face, and he patted his thigh again.

You’re fucking kidding me.

Frankie still held your arm loosely in his left hand. Reaching over Tom, he nudged Santiago, who broke off from his conversation long enough to pass him a beer. Settling back into his seat, Frankie spread his legs a little too wide and steered you into the space between them.

He looked up at you under the brim of his cap, his face out of Tom’s eyeline. The corners of his mouth curved downward and one shoulder shrugged, as if to say ‘Why not?’.

Lightheaded, floating on a mental chant of fucking hell fucking hell fucking hell fucking hell, you perched on Frankie’s knee, your knees pressing against his other leg. A quick glance at Tom’s face nearly made you yelp. The ham-coloured man was staring sullenly out over the ring, lips pursed around his mouthful of beer. The smile was nowhere to be seen.

Frankie shifted slightly, and with one hand on your waist pulled you closer until you were sitting mid-thigh. When he was satisfied, his hand moved to settle against your lower back, keeping you upright. The shape of the seat had his body angled away from you, allowing you to sit upright without being nestled against him. He leaned towards Tom and said something in his ear, something you could barely hear over the din. It was as if he’d forgotten you were there.

But not quite. Slowly, as if you were a wild animal he was trying to tame, his hand started to move in gradual, broad strokes, forward and back, forward and back.

Your stomach muscles locking tight was your only visible reaction, and you thanked baby Jesus and all the angels in heaven that Frankie couldn’t feel the way your pulse had suddenly picked up. Though that might not be far off; there was a warm throbbing between your legs that definitely hadn’t been there two minutes ago.

Forward and back. Forward and back.

This was totally normal. This happened to you every day. Every day you met hot guys and sat on their laps. Every day you got mildly turned on by hot guys stroking your back.

Looking over at Dina, the two of you locked eyes. Her grin was positively wolfish.

Fuck off, you mouthed.

You looked around, hoping that the people-watching fodder available would help take your mind off the hot man you were sitting on and what his hand was -

As if Frankie could hear your thoughts, the rhythm of his strokes changed. Now, instead of moving forward and back, his palm started sliding up and down, with every pass downward bringing his hand closer and closer to the curve of your ass.

For a fraction of a second, your breath caught in your throat, and the pulse between your legs kicked up a notch. Trying to keep your cool, you casually - so casually! - looked over at Frankie.

Still absorbed in conversation with Tom. Fine. He clearly had no idea what he was doing, no idea of the effect he was having.

Your awareness was steadily narrowing down to where his hand touched you, to the vague sensation of warmth that each pass left on your skin. Reaching the hem of your jacket, he paused almost imperceptibly, before reaching under the leather to rest on the back of your shirt.

Dear god, were you disappointed he wasn’t touching your ass? Were you actually sad that this stranger wasn’t -

A radiating sensation on your back, so warm and firm, and suddenly you could feel every little movement his hand made, the way his fingers were flexing against your skin so gently -

Air you didn’t realise you had been holding escaped your lungs in a whoosh.

“Getting bored up there, tiger?” Tom’s expression wasn’t as friendly as it normally was, and you were reminded why all of this was happening. This was purely for Tom’s benefit.

“No, it’s fine. It’s…” you looked down at Frankie as he took a sip of his beer. His eyes met yours over the rim of his beer cup, and a smile crept across your face. When the cup left his lips, you took it deftly from his fingers and lifted it to your mouth. Your gaze didn’t leave his. Tom may as well have been part of the furniture.

The beer was not good, but you finished it, and ran your tongue over your lips. Frankie’s eyes tracked the movement, and you felt his hand pause, felt his fingers splay wide across the small of your back.

“It’s great,” you said, winking down at him. “But I think we need another drink.”

You placed a hand on his knee for leverage, and stood. Dina saluted you with her nearly-empty drink, and tapped at the low liquid level with one long fingernail. You nodded, and flashed the OK sign.

A broad chest blocked your view, and the smell of Axe surrounded you. You glanced up at Tom, who was shaking his own empty cup.

“I’ll come too,” he said. “I could do with another-”

“It’s cool, man,” Frankie stood, easily slotting himself between the two of you, and gently but firmly took hold of your shoulders as he turned to the exit. “I got it.”

Empty cups and debris were strewn across the aisle, and you were beginning to regret wearing your heels for what was shaping up to be a fucking obstacle course. But you felt Frankie’s presence behind you, and if you put a little more sway into your walk than normal, so what?

Between a few stragglers at the bar, there was a gap just wide enough for the two of you to lean against the counter. You rested on your forearms, and flagged down the bartender.

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

“Two beers, and a whiskey and coke.”

“Make it four,” Frankie said. “I know it may not seem like it, but it is better to get Redfly liquored up. After about,” - his hand made a see-saw motion - “six drinks? He’s going to get real maudlin, start missing his wife, and go home.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied, “He’s really missing his wife when he’s trying to put his hand up my skirt.”

His eyes flickered up and down your body, and he cleared his throat. One hand came up to scratch at his moustache, before smoothing it back down.

“You know, I don’t blame him,” he said. “That skirt looks great on you.”

A low warmth pooled in your stomach, and you smiled. He smiled back, those beautiful eyes twinkling as he turned around to face the arena, elbows back on the bar.

“If I… go too far, in there,” he said, face suddenly serious. “You can just punch me in the face. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

The bartender laid your whiskey and coke down in front of you, and pulled out two cups for the beer.

“Two more of those, please,” you told her, and took a sip of your drink. You knew you were a bit of a savage for drinking whiskey with coke, but your sweet tooth demanded nothing less. “Frankie, I’m not really OK with the idea of ‘being saved’.”

“That’s fair,” Frankie turned to the bar, and rapped a quick tattoo on the wood. “When we get back in there, you take the seat and I’ll -”

“But,” you raised a finger. “Your lap is pretty comfortable. And if you’re OK with having my ass on your knee all night, then I’m happy to stay there.”

A laugh escaped him, and you found yourself appreciating the way his moustache framed his lips so perfectly.

“I think you’d be hard pushed to find a man who wouldn’t be OK with that deal.”

The bartender laid down four cups of beer. “$25.60.”

Frankie laid out three $10 bills, and pulled the cups closer.

“Do you think you could make sure Tom doesn’t put his hand up my skirt?”

He was intent on arranging the cups in a way he could carry them, to the point that you thought he hadn’t heard you. Just as you were about to repeat yourself, he flashed you a wicked look.

“Well sweetheart,” he smiled, “I’ll just have to get my hand there first.”

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

As soon as you sat back down, it was like a switch had flipped. Your conversation at the bar had been light, to the point where you’d nearly forgotten that you’d actually been turned on a little at sitting on Frankie’s lap.

When you got back to your seats, and Frankie had handed off the beers he was carrying, he sat and pulled you down onto his lap in one fluid movement. No more tentative movements; he held your waist firmly, and pulled you even closer than before. And now, not only was his hand stroking your back again - he had put it under your jacket straight away - but his other arm was now resting on your leg. His beer cup sat on your knee, below where the hem of your skirt rode up, and he rotated it gently on your bare skin, almost teasing you with the cool feeling of the condensation on the base.

It drove you just a little short of wild. Though part of you wanted to shift against his thigh, wanted to feel some pressure right where an ache was steadily building between your legs, you kept it together fairly admirably.

A wet patch on Frankies jeans probably wouldn't go down too well anyway.

A murmur from the crowd rolled towards the ring, and Pantera’s heavy guitar riff blasted through the speakers.

Benny was here.

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

Ringside seats were… certainly something.

The smell of blood hummed in your nostrils, and you felt the impact of every punch.

Benny was a monster. He had swaggered into the arena, head and shoulders above everyone, and proceeded to hammer the shit out of his opponent once the bell rang. Watching the way Dina was looking at him, you were very, very glad they were going back to Benny’s place tonight.

The six of you were standing at the ring edge, screaming and roaring with the crowd. Your blood was singing. Sitting on Frankie’s lap, his hands leaving trails of fire wherever they touched you, had rattled you something fierce, and the adrenaline from the fight was getting to you too. You didn’t think your pulse had slowed for about ten minutes, and you were breathing like you were climbing a mountain.

It was the last minute of the last round, and Benny was flagging.

You guessed. You really had no idea who was doing better, both fighters were covered in blood and looked tired as fuck.

Santiago, Dina and Tom were rattling the cage, howling through the wire at Benny. The man was intent on his opponent, never taking his eyes off him.

As you watched, Benny did an odd movement, stepping back, rotating his shoulders and head as his feet danced. You heard roars come from your friends, but were completely lost.

“He’s about to kick the guy’s head off his fucking shoulders,” Frankie’s voice was low, and close. You felt his nose brush the outer shell of his ear, and you suppressed a shiver as his breath ghosted over you. He was standing behind you, so close that you felt his warmth up your body from ankle to neck. He reached over your shoulder, and pointed up at Benny’s right foot.

“You see that?”

Benny’s foot was moving in a fan shape on the floor of the ring. He dodged as much as he needed to to evade blows, but whenever he was still his foot moved in that fan shape.

“Why is he waiting?” Turning your head, your nose brushed against Frankie’s jawline. He smiled down at you.

“Not long now, sweetheart,” he said. “Watch.”

He stepped closer until he stood flush against your back, and crossed his arms over your chest to grip his own elbows. His beard brushed against your cheekbone, and you found yourself nestling further into his hold. He was just so warm and solid and -

Benny moved like lightning. His opponent came too close, ever so slightly unguarded, and Benny pivoted on his left foot and -

“Fuck!” you screamed. Benny’s opponent hit the floor, and the arena erupted.

===> Chapter Two

#triple frontier #frankie morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #santiago 'pope' garcia #william 'ironhead' miller #benny miller #tom 'redfly' davis #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #fic #santiago garcia x ofc #benny miller x ofc #The Reader’s Guide to Avoiding Redfly #trgtar

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thepoodlepack · 3 years

Note

What's wrong with goldenpoodles? I'm genuinely curious because almost all of my dogs are mixed breeds and behave fine. So I'm curious if there's something else I'm missing

jeez this feels like bait but u kno what, you got me

alright, so it goes like this. the doodle really began with a guy in australia being like i need the temperament of a lab for a guide dog but these ppl are allergic to dogs, so i need a poodle bc they have hair, not fur. so he bred em together. years later he’s like damn that was a mistake.

now, why, exactly? alright so first of all he only needed that mix bc labs on average tend to adapt better to situations that are largely exclusive to service dog work than poodles do. i can go into what this means at a later date, but that’s basically how it is. but either way, people jumped on this creation and it kinda spiraled out of control. soon, poodles were being bred by everyone and every breed. suddenly, they were a marketing scam more then they were a dog breed.

oh theyre hypoallergenic! all of them, all the time cause zero allergies! look theyre so much better than poodles! theyre friendly and easy to train, not like poodles of course, just like labs! they’re better than labs bc none of them shed, ever! they’re super healthy bc breeding labs and poodles together wipes out all their health problems, of course!

lies, lies lies. the aussie guy, whose name i’m not going to look up bc i’m lazy but who you can find if you google creator of doodles, straight up says that even the first litter(s) of labradoodles he bred had puppies that the people he bred them for were allergic to. he very carefully tested the litter and the reaction the person had before placing a puppy that was not going to hurt them.

think of the punnet squares we all learned about in 5th grade science class. you draw the squares and one parent has two fur genes and the other parent has two hair genes and what do you get? well if you have four puppies, one might have hairhair and the next one might have hairfur and the next one might have furhair and the next one might have furfur. and so guess what? only hairhair pup is going to be the best choice for allergic people. additionally, you can see why the non-shedding thing can be bullshit, and that in particular is also a guessing game. you may be able to test allergy sufferers against the pups, but that does not necessarily mean they won’t shed. hairfur, for example, may be a good choice for some allergic people, but perhaps they’ve got just enough fur to shed anyway. also, lets look at salukis (and frankly, most long-haired sighthounds). salukis are still considered dogs with fur, not hair. they also still shed, even though it’s just a little. and yet they’re still considered good for allergy sufferers.

(ps poodles do actually shed. but they shed like humans shed. your hair comes out, doesn’t it? like, esp folks with long hair, aren’t people always complaining how you clog the shower drain? yeah, like that. ALSO obviously the situation is more complicated then super simple punnet squares and as an ex-groomer i have something to say about doodle coats but i’m going to save that for later, put a pin in it.)

oh and wait a hot minute there. i said best choice, didn’t i, not hypoallergenic. well, that’s because no dog is hypoallergenic. poodles, and a few other dog breeds, they have hair, like we do. but the thing is both humans and breeds with hair still produce the dander, though they’re different kinds. breeds with hair happen to produce the least amount possible that dogs can produce, which is why they’re a better choice for allergy sufferers, but that’s still not a guarantee. my roommate Dakota is allergic to dogs. if i don’t wash my dogs for an extended period of time (which has never happened, ever, in my life, idk what ur talking about), thus giving the chance for the dander my dogs still produce, he will have a very, very mild reaction when touching them. it can be countered by him washing his hands after touching them and also me just giving them a fucking bath, i need to stop forgetting, but still, there you go. ALSO people might not be allergic to dogs bc of their dander. they might be allergic to the saliva of dogs, which poodles or any other breed with hair still produces about the same as other dogs. so, yeah, not hypoallergenic, not at all.

the people who taut their hypoallergenic dogs for sale largely don’t do the testing required to check if they’re actually providing a dog to someone who won’t react to it. not acceptable at all.

so, labs are friendly and easy to train right? not at all like poodles, right? no. absolutely incorrect. some labs are friendly and easy to train. some labs, a lot of them when they’re puppies, are nightmare fuel. personally, i have a theory that everyone’s vision of labs in their heads are either a) service dogs or b) those old labs who are slightly pudgy (or morbidly obsess, which is a different topic) and who are graying in the face and just want to lounge around because they’re seniors now. alright, so here’s why thats bad. labs are a working breed. a retrieving breed. they’re supposed to be bulky and strong and driven. service dogs are highly trained, to a point that most pet dogs will never see, and if you see them with their actual disabled handler, they’ll probably be around 2.5 yrs of age and out of their most wild days. old labs are well. old. sleepy. maybe a bit achey. and well out of their most wild days. oh, and it’s the same type of thing with goldens by the way, the other most popular doodle type. poodles are also easy to train, especially if their parents have a decent temperament. they’re all about equal if you actually start training them when they’re puppies and just pay for some training classes, like everyone should. in the puppy classes i’m in right now, Euphoria is leaps and bounds ahead of doodles, goldens, and labs that are her age or older. I train her properly and she’s got amazing parents. that’s it, that’s the trick. not breed, not necessarily, and def not in this case.

I am once again going to say that labs and goldens are more often used as service dogs than poodles because of their adaptability, but it’s the ability to adapt to situations that most pet dogs will never have to worry about.

jeez this is a long post. i’ve still got more to cover too. alright, on to super healthy, or “hybrid vigor” as the nerds call it. uhh, it’s bullshit. thank u for ur time.

okay, but actually why on gods green earth would breeding two completely different breeds with little to no research make them super healthy? now i want to preface this with i’m (generally) pro-outcross projects. Euphoria’s dad is half mini poodle and half standard poodle, which isn’t technically an outcross bc all the variations are of the same breed, but if we’re going by genetic diversity alone minis and standards are different enough to actually be different breeds.

so, to be clear, outcrosses, given the proper thought and planning: good, results in healthier dogs (see: lua dals). randomly breeding two very different breeds together with no planning other than to sell the puppies to randos who won’t continue the outcross: bad. especially when you’re doing it to cash in and don’t health test at all, or don’t health test the major health problems with both breeds (if you’re doing an f2 breeding or anything like that). no the poodle’s health problems don’t get canceled out by the goldens or labs or whatever the other party’s health problems are, and vice versa. and yeah, i’ve looked at a lot of doodle breeder’s websites and yeah, most of them don’t health test at all, or at least don’t health test properly. do you know i own one doodle and currently live with another? yeah, i got them both from breeders and do you know how much health testing their parents got? if your answer is none, good job, you’ve been paying attention. in my defense, i was like 13, i didn’t know what i was doing.

alright, so those are the big points. this is kinda gonna be just... a mix of my other complaints. here we go, hope you’re ready for more. argument the first: i feel like it’s pretty disrespectful to reputable breeders. now, i actually have two reasons why that is. reason one: most reputable poodle breeders don’t want their breeding stock bred with other breeds, for various reasons. i’ve even met a few who used to be okay with it and then as the doodle scam got bigger and more out of control, they stopped being okay with it, even to the breeders who they had been fine with it in the past. that means a lot of doodle breeders out there have their breeding stock because they scammed poodle breeders into giving them pet quality, not breeding quality, dogs or because they’re getting their stock from non-reputable breeders. i also feel it’s disrespectful to breeders who are actually trying to create new breeds. quite frankly, a breed with the size, strength, and adaptability of a lab or golden that doesn’t shed and that has the train-ability of a poodle, lab, or golden sounds pretty interesting to me. did you know you can actually make that breed? and it wouldn’t be a cross with unpredictable... well, everything. it would actually be a true dog breed.

Look at Silken Windhounds and Biewer Terriers who began both development in the 1980s. Biewer Terriers were recognized by the AKC this year, and Silken Windhounds still haven’t been. And yeah, that’s the problem isn’t it? Making a real new breed takes a lot of time, planning, and care. People would rather just cash in. I think it’s sad and I think it’s disrespectful to the breeders who do work so hard to make actual new breeds.

and finally, unpin being an ex-groomer goddamnit. guess what? doodles are awful to groom! they’re terrible on the grooming tables because people want to have in both ways: they want a dog that doesnt shed at all and they want a dog who doesn’t need to be groomed. well guess what, that dog doesn’t exist and you can have it only one way. and also, bring back the goddamn punnet squares because a lot of doodles have awful coats. if you have hairfur and furhair over there, guess what, their coat fucking sucks bc it’s not meant to be like that. it wants to mat bc hair but also it wants the mats to slide out bc short-ish fur but its too thick for the mats to slide out bc thick hair. and yes its more complicated then this and that means its often more awful then this. its awful, it makes me want to cry. and maybe it’s slightly easier to get away with it with a shorthaired dog like a lab, or, you know what, even a golden, okay, even a slightly long haired dog like a golden but people are doodling akitas? border collies? bernese fucking mountain dogs? i am crying. i am crying right now as i type this.

lets do a sum up to this disaster of a post. look, i don’t go out there attacking or yelling at every doodle or every doodle owner i see, alright? or any of them really. i might engage in conversation to one that’s interested, but that’s it. i love my doodly Isis, okay? shes tiny and she’s adorable and I love her more than life and i will never, ever get another doodle. i don’t like the way they’ve gotten so prolific, i don’t like the reasons they’re now widespread, and i don’t like almost all of the people that create them, including the ones i’ve literally given my (parents) money to in the past. i wish they were better but i just cannot approve of them, especially not in the environment they exist in now. that said, i do support them in their original use case as assistance dogs, and i do not care about them if they’re shelter dogs.

#long post #anti doodle #text #my post #yes this took me like an hour #yes i do hate myself for it #Anonymous #oh anon im being grumpy mostly for comedy thats only funny to me #you're fine as long as you werent trying to bait me

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specs-and-capelets · 3 years

Text

i’ve posted this before on my other account, but i deleted it and— well, i was just too lazy to put it out again. so— why not i put this here for content?

uhh this is on ao3 too, so if u stumble upon it, it’s published by my account :)

prompt: logan’s an idiot at writing love letters and asked janus for his help

—

It was just another usual day at the Mind Palace. Well, slightly unusual, perhaps, Janus concluded. It is rare of him to be so deep into reading while being outside of his room.

The air was crisp and his current spot was perfectly warm, located on the couch at the Commons, where sunlight shone from the opened window, a mercy and reward from the cold morning Janus went through earlier. It was the perfect time to read outside of his room. There’s no disturbance from the other sides on this time around. Roman and Remus were deep in the Imagination now, probably at each other’s throats, Virgil’s alone in his room, most definitely on Tumblr, and Patton’s outside in the garden, enjoying the day. Yes, it’s certainly the best time of the day to read right here, Janus thought with a slight smile in his lips.

Anyway, it was a just a slightly different day than usual, but still a usual day nonetheless.

Footsteps suddenly emerged from the hallway, slightly disturbing the quietness of the Commons. Janus’ eyes teared away from the words of the book, tensing, like a predator sensing an enemy approaching. Tap, tap, tap, the footsteps sounded. It’s a familiar rhythm, Janus realized, relaxing, his eyes going back to the book.

Logic came into his view not a moment later, most of his body obscured by the book in Janus’ hand. The logical side stopped when he saw him, eyes perking up at the sight of the lying side. Oh? Janus half-expected Logan to greet him or say something first, but he seemed to be hesitating, the words uncharacteristically stuck in Logan’s throat.

“Janus,” Logan greeted after a moment, hands subconsciously playing with the edge of his tie.

Janus lowered his book, meeting Logan’s eyes. “Ah, Logan.” The smirk on his lips was automatic. “Greetings. I definitely did not see you there.”

The tension melted slightly from Logan’s body, the logical side shaking his head at Janus obvious lie. “Of course you didn’t,” He replied sarcastically, but the tone immediately died as he spoke again, “Are you-“ Logan cleared his throat, looking at the floor. “Are you, perhaps, busy at the current moment?”

Janus noted the nervous energy Logan seemed to be radiating, his eyebrow raising up in silent acknowledgment. The snake was intrigued, what is this all about? “I’m sure this book could wait.”

“Ah, if that’s the case then-“ He paused shortly. “I need your— input. Regarding a certain matter.” Logan looked slightly uncomfortable and fidgety as he forced the words out, anxiously waiting for Janus’ reply.

It’s unusual to see Logan so nervous, Janus thought inside his head, not sure wether to be delighted at the sight, or be also be anxious himself about the impending question, because Logan and nervous rarely went together. Well, the most nervous Janus had ever witnessed, anyway.

“Ah, of course,” Janus answered coolly, setting down the book he was unconsciously gripping. “Certainly do not ask away, Logan.”

There’s a slight hesitance in his voice, a pause, a flicker of doubt in his eyes before the logical side started talking again, “What is, in your opinion, the best way to write a love letter?”

What?

“Pardon me, a love letter?” Janus asked, incredulous. Had he he misheard him earlier? Surely that must be the case. Logan couldn’t possibly be asking him about love letters.

“Yes,” Logan clarified as he looked at Janus straight in the eye. “A love letter, that is correct.”

“You’re asking me-“ Janus pointed at himself, still incredulous. “On how to write a love letter?”

“That’s right,” Logan answered again, mouth twisting, his expression falling grim as he looked away. “If you’re uncomfortable on answering, then that is fine-“

“No,” Janus cut him off before he could finish the sentence. He sent Logan an apologetic look, not even bothering at all to hide his look of surprise and bewilderment at the question. “Apologies, I just— I’m definitely not surprised you decided to ask me about that.”

Logan huffed out a laugh at that, which also caused Janus grin slightly. “I, too, am surprised at myself as well.”

“This is more of Patton’s field pf expertise,” Janus continued, looking up at Logan, expression still displaying his look of surprise. “Why not ask him? Or Roman, both of them are better at this than I’ll ever be.”

“I already asked them both about this,” Logan answered, then he made a look. “Patton’s suggestions are not... terrible, per se. He told me to write, I quote, ‘my heart out.’ Write it my own way and avoid holding back any details, especially regarding my— ah- feelings. Do not filter my ‘feelings of love’ for the recipient. But it is far too emotional for my taste.” Logan then rolled his eyes fondly as he continued, “As for Roman, his approach is more fanciful. He suggested that I should write a love poem or a sonnet or something else in a similar fashion. He told me to— woo the recipient.”

Janus snorted at that. Logan and love sonnets? Maybe, but really out of character. “I definitely can’t see how that doesn’t suit you.”

“Yes, exactly.” Logan made an appreciative gesture, smiling slightly at Janus. The snake side found himself smiling back, and oh, what a nice smile he had there. Logan continued, “I also asked Virgil for his opinion on the matter. His answer is, and I quote, ‘Ya should just wing it, Lo, we both know we’re terrible at this.’”

Janus found himself laughing at Logan’s impression. Oh god, isn’t Logan adorable, he thought fondly. It’s not like he’s going to say it out loud, of course. “How about Remus?”

Logan only gave Janus a look.

Janus cringed at his mistake. Of course. Asking Remus would be a disaster. “Yes, you’re right. Terrible idea.”

“And that leaves you, Janus,” Logan continued. “I actually believe you’ll give the best advice out of all of them here, as I see you’re not too emotional nor too dramatic in things like this.”

But aren’t things like this are always emotional and dramatic? “I am certainly not flattered you’d think that my advice’ll be the best, but I.. do not doubt that I can give you something- satisfying,” Deceit replies quietly, giving Logan a weak grin.

Logan sighed softly, something flashing in his eyes that Janus couldn’t quite decipher. “Janus, for this past year, I believe we have gotten quite close. You’re more than capable of giving people good advices, and I’m confident to say that since I experienced it firsthand.” He trailed off, something soft blooming in his eyes. “Please, don’t be too hard on yourself.”

The snake side blinked, surprised and touched at Logan’s statement, and he hoped to god he’s not blushing right now.

“Do not blame me if it’s not satisfactory,” He hissed, adjusting his position as he think. “Patton told you to write it in your way, correct? That may be good, but I think you should try writing what the- ah— recipient would like to read.

“Present the letter in the way the recipient would like best,” He explained. “That way, in my opinion, at least, they’ll notice the thought and effort you put for going out of your comfortable zone and write the letter in a manner you’re unfamiliar with.”

Logan nodded, absorbing Deceit’s explanation. “I see.”

“Be humble. Be sentimental. Try to flatter the recipient while also being true and sincere,” Janus added.

Logan hummed, seemingly pondering about something, eyes flickering back to Janus. “If you— hypothetically receive a love letter from someone, what do you wish to find in the letter?”

Janus snorted. “An explanation to why that person deemed me worthy of love, that’s for certain.”

“Are you being serious?” Logan asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Janus, you know that you are, in fact, worthy of love, right? Everyone else here and I love you and care about you, you shouldn’t hesitate to ask us for clarification whenever you’re feeling-“ He pulled out his flash cards from seemingly out of nowhere, picking out one from the pile and reading it. “—not so gucci with yourself.”

“Of course I know that, Lo,” Janus answered, his voice a tad bit louder than earlier. “I just- uh- I’d definitely appreciate if the hypothetical person explained it in the hypothetical letter,” He explained, out of breath for some reason.

Logan gave him a look, but thankfully, he dropped it off, nodding gratefully at Janus. “I think I have enough information to start writing on my own.” He smiled at him. “Thank you for your input, Janus.”

“Yeah,“ Deceit croaked out, feeling faint. “Of course.”

He watched Logan leave, watched as his back disappeared again into the hallway, making sure the other was completely out of sight before slumping his body further in the couch, covering his face with a hand. He sighed deeply, feeling sadness, bitterness, and regret overtaking him in one big wave.

It’s over, he thought. He had his chance, but he never took it.

Logan’s in love with someone else.

—

Janus liked Logan.

He really, really liked him. He couldn’t pin point exactly when it started, but he remembered it being somewhere when Thomas was in college, back when people called him Deceit, where Janus would find Logan up in the latest of nights and earliest of days as he studied alongside Thomas. The times when Janus witnessed Logan finally getting a break, in a form of passing out on the couch in the Commons, relaxed and so, so soft for someone so rigid. As Janus stared at the sleeping side one night, he realized just how much he had done for Thomas, for them. Janus was extremely grateful for that, and he couldn’t help but to fall in love a little deeper.

He may not show it, pressing his feelings down on his chest and continued on his Disney villain charade, but from the start, he cared deeply for the other sides and had an.. extremely fond feelings for the logical side.

Logan, who’s fierce and passionate about facts and knowledge, who won’t hesitate to correct what is wrong and prove what is right, who constantly seek to improve himself. Logan, who’s also kind and caring and understanding in his own way, softer under that hard, stubborn shell of his. Logan, who’s intelligent, who glowed brightly as he mused about the secrets of the universe and talked on and on about biology, philosophy, astronomy, practically every piece of knowledge he studied, and anything and everything in between.

Janus had always been attracted to intelligence, and god, Logan was absolutely gorgeous.

As the years past, Janus’ attraction to the logical side only grew along with their interactions. Polite smiles and curt nods as they walked pass each other turned into greetings and small talks. Small talks about jams and books turned into debates on philosophy and society. And then, they became closer, sharing tea and thoughts together inside the privacy of Logan’s room. Slowly, as their fondness for each other grew, Logan let his guard down around Deceit. He witnessed his private smiles, witnessed his soft laughs, witnessed his tears.

And as the years past, in silence, Janus liked him more and more.

He didn’t pursue it, ultimately pressing down his romantic feelings towards the other side securely in his chest, hoping that it won’t see the light of day. He thought, at first, that maybe if he just ignored it all, the feelings would all go away. Truly a classic way to not deal with anything, really. He didn’t want to cause Logan more problems than he already had, seeing as the nerd wasn’t entirely attuning to his own emotions. He’s also a liar, a deceitful snake, a bad guy in their host’s eyes. Would Logan want that to be his partner? Sure, they may hang out a lot, but would Logan let him in that far?

But then Virgil got accepted, and then him and Remus followed right after. The tension that grew between Light and Dark, as Roman dubbed it, finally subsided. Everything’s better now. Perhaps not perfect, but clearly a lot more better than before. Still, Janus never confessed. He’s still afraid. Afraid of rejection. Afraid of pain. Afraid to destroy the friendship that they had.

So Janus kept quiet, kept going through his days as he silently pined. And now? It’s too late. Logan now had his eyes on someone, and it’s definitely not Janus who’s going to be at the receiving end of the love letter.

It hurt, knowing someone you loved so much for a long time was going to confess to someone else.

At least, Janus concluded, Logan’s happy. And that’s all that truly matters in the end, isn’t it?

—

“Janus!”

It was the day after Logan asked him about love letters. Janus still half expected it to be a dream or some kind of vivid image his brain came up when he spaced out. But no, it really did happened, and it still haven’t failed to baffle him.

Janus was just heading to the kitchen to get something to drink as he waited for breakfast, but Logan’s voice calling out to him stopped him in his tracks, his head looking back automatically to see Logan walking up from behind.

“Logan,” Janus greeted, his mismatched eyes scanning the logical side. He looked— messier than usual. His hair uncharacteristically ruffled in a careless manner, slightly dark circles around his eyes and he looked... not very awake at the moment, which was highly unlike him. “You look positively good, Logan, it looks like you slept well earlier.”

Logan flushed slightly at Janus words. “I was rather occupied the entire night.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “Love letter?”

Logan nodded slightly. “Yes, that is correct.” He cleared his throat. “I have a question to ask you again, if you do not mind answering.”

He’s still on about that? Janus mentally asked, feeling a twinge of annoyance, and maybe a tad jealous. Maybe. It’s not finished? Who is he writing to? What’s taking him so long?

But instead of voicing all that, Deceit only put on a grin, as usual. “Of course, Specs-tacularly Nerdy.” He internally cringed at the nickname. He blamed Roman and his tendency to give everyone ridiculous nicknames.

Logan only rolled his eyes at Janus’ nickname for him. “Various sources suggested to use terms of endearment in addressing the recipient,” Logan said, tilting his head slightly. “Such as ‘My Dearest’ or ‘Beloved’ and other similar to that.”

Janus automatically faked gagged, his hands giving a disapproving gesture. “That definitely does suit you perfectly. You sound perfectly in character using that, Logan. If it were for me, I wouldn’t feel unsettled.”

“Ah, is that so?” Logan grinned at him, and something inside Janus’ chest swelled with affection. Shit. “Fantastic. Thank you again for your opinion, Janus.”

And with that, Logan turn around and ran back to his room, blissfully oblivious about Janus’ internal turmoil, the snake side letting out the breath he was holding as a blush spread on his face.

—

It kept Janus up at night, tossing and turning on his bed, wondering who the hell caught Logan’s affection.

Is it Patton? They both do have some sort of opposites attract kind of dynamic between them. The Heart and The Brain; Patton and Logan. Patton quite obviously adored Logan and the logical side, not so obviously, cared about the fatherly side as well. But wether it’s romantic or merely platonic, Janus was not sure which was true. They hug, they sometimes cuddle on the couch at movie nights, but it’s not enough for him to know that they’re into each-other, or at least, he couldn’t see if Logan was into Patton.

Is it Roman? They had this rivalry dynamic and tension between them. Janus knew better, himself had heard both sides of their opinions towards one another, both holding the other in high regard, respect, and admiration. Because in the end, they both only wanted what’s best for Thomas, and after setting aside their arguments and making some sort of truce, they worked extremely well together. Past all the bickering and arguing and disagreements, they’re very compatible.

Is it Virgil, our resident stormy cloud? They shared many moments together in peaceful quietness as they enjoy each other’s company. When Virgil had his episodes of panic, he’d fall to Logan as the logical side knew the best way to calm him down. They both had deep trust in each other that Janus was honestly jealous of. The left brains of the group. The storm and the grounding earth.

Janus suddenly sat up, realizition whacking him on his head, but Logan had asked them all for advice. Who asks their own love interest advice on how to ask them out? That’s ridiculous. So, the only side Logan didn’t ask was—

Remus. Remus ‘Creativity’ Sanders himself. Janus-

Janus could see them working out. The brain cell and the chaotic madman together. After Remus’ first debut to Thomas, they started talking more, as Remus finally found someone new to grace his presence with and annoy the hell out of. Logan battled Remus’ morbidity with deadpans and indifference, and in the end, they ended up as friends. He was glad that he was spared a little from Remus’ chaos, and that he found someone new to hang out with other than Janus.

It could be Remus, Janus solemnly concluded. With a sigh, he laid back on his bed, thinking why in all hell he’s worked up about this.

Whoever it is, Janus was happy if Logan’s happy. Yeah. He’s totally not sad about that, not at all. And if they broke Logan’s heart? He’s going to strangle them to death.

—

It had been a week since Logan’s last question and nothing noticeable happened ever since.

Sure, they meet up at every once in a while, but Logan never told him his progress regarding the love letter. Did Logan gave the letter already? Was he planning to keep quiet about his new partner? Or was the letter still unfinished?

Janus got his answer late at night.

He was just getting out to get some midnight snacks; a habit he and Virgil seemed to share, apparently. When he entered the Commons to get to the kitchen, he’s surprised to find the television on, illuminating the dark room. The volume was very small, almost muted. There’s a figure slumped on the couch, seemingly watching the documentary show on the tv.

“Logan?” Janus called out, surprised to find the logical trait and not Virgil.

Logan’s head snapped towards Janus’ direction, eyes wide in surprise. “Jan?”

“You shouldn’t be sleeping,” Janus scolded quietly, making his way towards the other side. “What would Thomas do without his logic in maximum condition?”

Logan didn’t answer, choosing only to stare at Janus in silence. The snake side raised an eyebrow at his stare.

“How can I make sure that my letter are going to be receive well?” Logan suddenly asked.

Of course. Perhaps that’s why he’s been postponing to send the letter. He’s afraid.

Janus quietly made his way and sat down next to Logan, making himself comfortable as the other watched him. He made a soft sigh before finally meetinh Logan’s gaze, and in the dark, he could see the fear and uncertainty in his eyes, making Janus’ chest swelled with sympathy.

“There’s no magic formula for this matter,” Janus answered quietly. “Or, scientific formula. Or any formula at all. All you can do is be sincere with your feelings and— Well- hope that whoever it is reciprocates.”

Logan pursed his lips, eyes downcast. “I’m insane aren’t I to ask again and hope that I’ll get a different answer?”

“Perhaps.”

They fell quiet after that, Janus’ quest for a midnight snack long forgotten in favor of spending time with Logan in the darkness of the room, and in the darkness of the night.

In the morning, the others found them on the couch, asleep, with their legs tangled together, Janus’ arm behind Logan’s back and the logical side’s head resting on the deceitful side’s chest. Their backs and limbs may hurt when they woke up, but the warm feeling of waking up next to Logan was definitely worth it for Janus.

—

There’s a blue envelope sitting on Janus doorstep one morning.

The first thing Janus felt after he registered what he’s seeing was indeed there, was utter disbelief and bewilderment that the letter was intended to him. On his doorstep. Then he thought that maybe his twisted brain decided to play tricks on him and present him with this sick hallucination.

But when Janus bent down and picked up the envelope, it’s solid and real between his gloved fingers, so he’s not hallucinating, that means it’s really there. On the other side of the letter, written neat and precise, was his name, Janus.

So it really was for him.

He brought himself and the letter inside his room, still in disbelief that the letter— Logan’s letter was for him. Him. He marched towards his bed, his eyes still glued at the letter as he sat down on his bed.

Janus opened the letter gingerly, taking his time and mentally preparing himself. He could hear the beating of his heart in his ears, his chest filled with anticipation and a sense of disbelief when he finally pulled the paper out of the envelope. He took a deep breath before bringing the paper into eye level, and finally, reading it.

Janus,

I am writing to you this letter in hopes to convey my feelings for you that I couldn’t bear myself to do face-to-face. It may be cliche of me, but the idea of using a love letter seemed perfect at the time and far less daunting than the idea of stating it directly and verbally.

I believe I started to realize my feelings for you was when we increased the number of times we would ‘hang out,’ as the others would say. I was rather busy at that time, but I found myself that I didn’t mind to cut my work time in order to spend more time with you. It baffled me at first. I’m not the kind to pick interacting rather than working, but I find that you are the only exception. Then I started to think deeper about this.

I found that I am unaccountably fond of your smile, your laugh, your presence, and I wish to see you and be with you everyday. I fell in love with your intelligence, with your wit and your snark, with your sarcasm and your charm. And as we got even closer, I fell in love with your passion for psychology and equal passion for arts, I fell in love with your private, softer, caring nature, I fell in love with your touch.

I am utterly and hopelessly in love with you, and it is entirely illogical for me to be so. But with you, I find myself that I do not mind in the slightest.

I would like to keep debating with you. I would like to bring you flowers. I would like to hold your hand. I would even like to kiss you. And in the mornings, I wish to see your face every time I wake up for the rest of my existence.

Sincerely yours,

Logan

Janus calmly folded the letter back into the envelope, setting it down on his bead while millions of thoughts swirled inside his head.

Then he bolted right out of his room. He had to see Logan now.

Finally arriving in front of Logan’s door, he didn’t waste time and started knocking frantically, anticipation practically killing him inside.

The door opened, revealing Logan’s confused face. “Yes-?”

Janus pushed him inside and slammed the door shut behind him before Logan could even compute that it’s Janus. “You buffoon.”

Logan’s eyes widened in confusion. “What?”

“You absolute moron.” Janus repeated his statement more heatedly, jabbing a finger to the other side’s chest. A fierce, hot blush spread on his face as he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“What- what are you--?” The utter bafflement was thick in his tone and features, the side stopping mid sentence. It took Logan a few long seconds to realize what in all hell was Janus talking about. A similar blush glowed on Logan’s cheeks as realization hit him. “Ah. The letter.”

“We wasted so much time,” Janus said more calmly, his tone softer than earlier. “I could’ve been kissing you stupid from a long time ago.”

“I apologize it took me so long to realize my— feelings.” Logan looked genuinely apologetic, and before Janus could tell him not to apologize about that, he continued, “And how long it took me to finish the letter.”

A relieved huff of air left Janus’ mouth followed by a smile forming on his lips. Logan loved him. Logan truly loved him.

The logical side looked away, still blushing. With a surge of confidence, Janus took the opportunity to hold his hand, causing Logan to look back at him with wide eyes, the blush burning brighter.

“I can’t believe you used a love letter to confess,” Janus commented playfully, teasingly, as he took in Logan’s red face. God, Janus felt so happy. So very happy that this absolutely wonderful nerd loved him back. After all the waiting, all the pining, all the the things his heart yearned to do with him was all in his reach now. “Why not face to face? You’re usually straightforward when it comes to communicating.”

“I can’t- I cannot bear to see the look on your face if you-“ His voice cracked. “Reject me,” Logan answered quietly, vulnerably honest. There’s a wave of doubt in his eyes as Janus gaze into them.

“Oh, Logan,” Janus said so, so softly, smiling, leaning in. “I love you, too.”

Then Janus pulled Logan by the hand, yanking him down, his other hand firmly holding the other’s face as he pushed himself forward and crashed their lips together.

Logan made a startled sound muffled by the lips that was against his own, but Janus kept kissing him and kissing him, one hand fisted in Logan’s collar and the other cupping his face, overjoyed to know that this wonderful, beautiful nerd was his. The logical side obviously didn’t know what to do with his hands, opting to just rest them on both of Janus’ shoulder.

Janus pulled away, staring at Logan’s eyes, gaze full of adoration. “I love you,” He claimed again, emotional and sincere, so uncharacteristically soft and tender. He rested his head on the other’s shoulder, pulling him into a hug. “I love you.”

Logan, teary-eyed and still blushing, smiled back with equal love and affection for the other. And softly, he said the words back,

“I love you, too.”

#loceit #logan sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #AHSSJJSH THE GRAMMAR HERE IS MOST LIKELY ATROCIOUS IM SO SORRY

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classysansy · 3 years

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Cute self/reader-insert classic Sans shipping ahead! (Beware, there will be a purring skeleton ❤️) (This is of course a oneshot lol. Enjoy!)

The day was going slow. I had the day off work because I had just wanted a day to relax…so, I had decided to watch TV.

Sans was at work; a security guard at the mall. He was amazing at his job, especially that one time he was able to dodge three bullets and then pin the criminal to the ground until police arrived.

I was always super worried about him when he did that. I told him he could get killed. The surface wasn’t as easy to navigate as the underground. He simply gave me that ‘seriously, kid?’ look he has and tousled my hair.

I couldn’t find anything to watch at first, until I flipped through the channels straight to Spongebob. Huh…I had no idea Nickelodeon was still airing that. It seemed too old to be aired…and when I watched it, I realized they definitely had ruined it with the modern traits of kids’ shows nowadays.

I glanced at my phone. Sans would be home in an hour. I sighed to myself and slid further down into the couch cushions. I hated the days I had to wait for the skelebros to get off work. It was usually quite boring and I missed them a lot.

I began to realize I was tired, even though I had done absolutely nothing that day. I rubbed the bridge of my nose and gently shook my head, and before I knew it, I was yawning. ‘No,’ I thought to myself. ‘I have to stay awake for Sans….if not for Sans, then for Spongebob.’

I was able to continue watching the show for a good twenty minutes…however, I could hardly keep my eyes open at that point. I could feel my head start to get heavy, and then…I fell asleep.

I don’t know how long I was out. Ten minutes? Twenty? A half hour or so? I suppose it didn’t matter, but hot damn was that a good nap.

Almost as soon as I remember falling asleep, I heard a deep voice hidden behind the fog of my incoherent and drowsy mind. I dismissed it as part of a dream, as I was still half asleep.

Suddenly, I felt something warm but hard touch my cheek. Needless to say, it woke me up and I opened my eyes to be met with Sans’ own. He was grinning, amused with my sleeping habits.

“Hey,” he mumbled, moving his fingers from my jawline to my hair to brush some strands from my face. “You were sleepin’ good, kiddo. Ya didn’t wake up no matter how many times I said your name.”

“…Sans?” I muttered back. “I, uh…” I trailed off, trying to get my post-sleep thoughts together. And then my consciousness fully came back and I gave him a tired smile. “I must have dozed off.”

“No doubtin’ that.” He chuckled and stood up from the sofa, shrugging. “Wonder what made ya so sleepy. You never nod off watching TV.” He took off his security guard hat and set it on the end table before starting to head upstairs.

“What? Why are you leaving your hat down here? You could just bring it with you.” I scoffed, a brow raised. I should have expected his laziness, but no matter how long we were together, I couldn’t get past it.

“Nah. It told me it wanted to keep ya company,” he replied.

“Oh, did it?” I smirked at him, shaking my head. “You didn’t tell me hats could talk. Is that a monster thing, or..?”

“Well…hats actually can’t speak, so I dunno why you thought they could, sweetheart.” He winked.

“Sans! You were the one to-“ I began, my brows furrowed.

He cut me off, “Gee, ya don’t have to raise your voice about it.”

I huffed at him, but couldn’t help but smile at his silliness. “You changing, then?”

“Unless ya wanna cuddle a sweaty pile of clothes, yeah.”

“Okay. Well, hurry up. I want to ask you about your day.”

“Sure thing, kid.” Sans nodded and continued up the stairs. He soon disappeared behind a door.

I turned off the TV and stretched slightly, appreciating every crack my bones produced. If Sans were downstairs when I did that, he probably would’ve told me to knock it off; he hated hearing joints crack.

After a couple minutes, the comedian made his way back downstairs in his usual apparel: a blue hoodie, basketball shorts, and pink slippers. When I first had met him, I didn’t get his fashion choices, but I learned to accept it with time.

He plopped down next to me on the couch with an exaggerated grunt (he was always looking to get a laugh from me) before glancing at me. “You still tired?” he asked softly.

“…a little, yeah. But I want to talk to you about how today went,” I responded, enthusiastically turning my body towards him so I didn’t have to strain my neck looking sideways at him. “Sleep can wait.”

“Lay down,” he said.

“I told you, I-“

“I mean on me.” He motioned to his legs. “Lay across the sofa and put your head in my lap. I won’t tell you about work if you don’t.” His grin widened, and he was clearly amused with himself.

“I’m fine, I’ll fall asleep if I do that,” I explained, frowning. “Just-“

“Hey, it’s no skin off my back if ya do. Ya obviously need the sleep.” He shrugged. “Lay down ‘n I’ll tell ya all about today. Okay?”

I rolled my eyes and let out a breath. There was no use arguing with him. He usually always won these discussions. He cared about me more than I cared about myself, and it drove me crazy sometimes. Nevertheless, I did as he said and laid across the couch, my head in his lap and my eyes towards the ceiling.

I awkwardly shifted my body, trying to get comfy. All the while, Sans was looking down at me with his usual lazy expression…half lidded eyes and a consistent grin. I finally was okay with my position and nodded at him.

“Okay…so, ya know Jerry?” he started. “Well, he tried to steal some sorta shit from Spencer’s. Just…casually walked out with a hookah, thought I wouldn’t notice. Of course, I did, ‘n I…”

I began to zone out a bit, simply just admiring Sans’ face and voice…everything about him. He knew I spaced out during his usual workday updates, and he was fine with it. We were just happy to be with each other, most days.

I caught words like ‘tackle’, ‘smiled’, and ‘shop’ throughout his ranting, and I reacted accordingly to each of them. With a quick scowl, a smirk, and a nod.

After about twenty minutes, I noticed he wasn’t talking anymore. When had he stopped? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t continue questioning it. I was used to those zoned-out moments that had me wondering things like that. Sometimes I would be so focused on admiring his face that I wouldn’t notice when he was done speaking.

Now he was staring into space…or maybe he was looking at our reflection on the TV screen? Either way, I gave him a little grin, reaching my arm up his chest and gently hooking my fingers along his shoulder. It took a second, but he glanced down at me.

“Finally with us, again?” he teased, softly chuckling. “I’ve been done talking for an hour. I was getting bored waitin’ for ya to notice.”

“It hasn’t been an hour,” I replied, giggling.

“Yeah, guess you’re right…but it was fun to say it was,” he answered, looking me in the eyes.

It then went super silent. Not an awkward silence, but something soothing and comfortable…something that was mostly likely a bonding moment if you let it be. The kind of silence that made everything in the world feel…right.

After a couple moments, I heard a low sound…almost like a gentle rumbling. It was slightly familiar, but I couldn’t tell where I had heard it before.

I frowned, and looked around. There wasn’t really anything in the room that would be making that noise. I then fixed my gaze to Sans, again.

“What’s up?” he said.

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That rumbling sound?”

“…huh?”

“You don’t hear it?” I raised a brow, and he shook his head.

I scoffed and sat up slightly, only to notice it was louder near his chest. I subtly tilted my head and put an ear to his rib cage.

“What’re ya doin’, sweetheart?” he asked, his own brow also raised.

“Sans, I think you’re…purring,” I replied, noticing I sounded extremely confused. I was. Extremely confused, that is.

“Wh-“ he mumbled. “I…I am?”

“You didn’t know you could do that?” Now I sounded even more puzzled.

“No,” he quickly told me. He paused. “No, no I didn’t.”

The purring began to fade slightly, and I decided to experiment; I sat up and turned so I could see him straight before leaning forward and giving him a soft kiss on his cheek. He blushed. Just as I thought, the purring became a bit louder.

“Ha! You’re purring because of me!” I snapped, excited at this discovery.

“It’s not my fault you’re so pretty,” he responded, almost shyly.

“I didn’t know you could purr.”

“…neither did I.”

“Now we know.”

“Yup.”

“It’s adorable,” I cooed.

His smile widened.

“Guess what?” I questioned.

“What?” he replied.

“I didn’t fall asleep while you were talking.” I giggled.

And with that, he pulled me into a kiss…and I knew that he loved me…and I hoped he knew I loved him, too.

(Voila! I hope you enjoyed this oneshot. Not my best writing, but I had a lot of fun writing it. Sans fluff is my favorite fluff 😊 also there might be grammar mistakes and typos I’ll probably fix later, just so you know if you see one.)

-Inspired by @calcium-cat and @little-lex -

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kitkatisinspace · 3 years

Text

𝗜𝗻𝗳𝗼 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗰 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝘁

Hello stranger! Welcome to my blog and to my pinned post, in this case. You are probably reading this because you are stalking me or considering to follow me (if you are not you should consider it y'now?), so keep reading. Also if you see this on your dashboard this works better on the "web" blog I don't know how to say it. Like, when you go to the url.com that thing. So go, what are you waiting for?

I'll put a cut because this is infinite. I don't want you to be scrolling till death if you don't want to read. I recommend reading it though. Well, if you're already a mutual you don't have to.

𝓑𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓬 𝓭𝓪𝓽𝓪

First off, you can call me Kat! I have my name in the blog title but anyway, it could be useful.

Any pronouns. I'm agender and I don't have preferences for pronouns, so as you like, I don't really mind.

English is NOT my first language, expect a lot of mistakes. I usually check a couple of times what I post, but sometimes I'm too lazy to do it. This post is the best example (I'm not checking and I won't do it).

I get bored easily. That's it that's the point.

I don't know what else to put here, I'm a dumb bitch. What do people even put on these? I'm just improvising, sorry.

𝓐𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰

Surprise! I don't know how to draw, I don't know how to write and I don't know how to communicate with people! Have I mentioned that my English sucks? No? Well, there you have, then.

I can't be on two fandoms or like two shows at the same time (in this case), so don't expect me to post about anything else that isn't JoJo's. Also, expect tons of shitpost or me just talking about things that happen to me.

Every now and then I post something interesting, but not that much. My two most popular posts are an Araki drawing of Caesar and Joseph and a comment on TikTok about Stardust Crusaders and how fucking sad it is.

I used to talk a lot about DIO. Now I don't do it much, but just wait till I rewatch Stardust Crusaders. My gallery is filled with pics and videos of DIO, just you wait.

Caejose is my current brainrot, but I don't post much about it because I suck at headcanons. I think about old Caesar in Stardust Crusaders a l o t, but I just imagine specific scenarios, so that's why I don't post them (oh shit I just had a déja-vu).

I sometimes post about my dreams, when I'm not too embarrassed of them. I once dreamed with Abbachio poledancing, another one with Bucciarati and me in a jacuzzi and the last one I had I was hiding with Caesar in some secret place, I don't remember the context. My dreams are elite I don't care what y'all say.

I love tag and ask games, so feel free to tag me. I'm bored 80% of the day. If you like you can leave a random ask, I don't mind. Actually, I like random asks. Do it.

Also, I have like "sections" of my blog, like tags. "Kat draws" where I... post my sketches???, "Kat is mad" where I just post random stuff I'm mad at, "Kat kats"... I don't know what this is about it's me in my most pure state, that's why it's called "kats". I had to invent a verb.

If you see this tag ":]" on a post (most likely to be sth about DIO), hell is going to unleash on the rest of the tags. You can check it for yourself just by searching it on my profile.

Everyone is welcomed here and I want y'all to feel safe on my blog, unless...

𝓓𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽...

(I have to fix this part but it's 1 am I'll do it tomorrow ig)

If you are or support proshippers, this is not your blog, I'm sorry. I'm not comfortable with you around here.

If you are TERF/rad-fem. I don't share your ideals, sorry. I'm not comfortable with you around here either.

If you are or support pedophiles, racist, homophobic, transphobic people. Don't be an asshole please, open your eyes.

I want this to be a safe place for everyone and you are a threat to my goal.

𝓕𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓷𝓯𝓸 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓶𝓮

Well, you can skip this, this will be long.

I'm dumb af, you can notice in many of my posts but it's important to get this clear before starting.

I'm a minor. I don't mind adults interacting as long as they aren't weird and aren't mentioned in my do not interact. Thank you.

Sometimes I'm too friendly, but please do not misundertand my words. I'm aro and I don't want any relationship. Sorry if you're uncomfortable with how I talk, just tell me and I'll stop.

I think I'm funny but I'm not.

I don't know how to communicate with people. I don't even know how to do it in my mother language, I don't know what you are expecting from me. I'd love to talk to you if you want though, I just suck and I'll probably run out of things to tell after 2 minutes of chatting.

I vent sometimes, but just trivial things. I think I do not have any TW to put like, in the general blog. If it is one, I'll put it on the specific post.

I get obsessed over a specific series, anime or book and I stick with it for months. In that time, I can't watch any other series or anime that isn't the one that I'm obsessed with at the moment. Right now I'm on my JJBA obsession.

Also, I've just watched the anime parts. I would start reading the manga, but I'm waiting for the Stone Ocean anime release. I don't know if I could wait til then though.

My personality type is INTP in MBTI and 5w4 in Enneagram. I was True Neutral in Alignment but I did the test on January. I have to do the tests again. By the way I know this tests aren't 100% accurate but it's the unstoppable need to try to know myself that keeps me inspiring me to do them on repeat, don't mind me. Annnd because I'm too lazy to read all the personalities one by one.

I don't know if anyone wants my Discord, but here it is anyways:

sakima#2527

I usually forget things a lot so expect a bunch of "I was going to say/complain about something but I forgot what it was".

I had more things to put on here but I forgot so this section will be constantly updated.

𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝔀𝓱𝔂

Again, the unstoppable need to know myself. Here's my kinwheel:

If you don't know how this works, in the centre is my main kin, then medium or highkey kins and lastly, the lowkey ones.

𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓼

JJBA

Get my blood sucked by DI- Oh no I shouldn't say this publicly sorry

That's it that's the section.

Recommend books and songs thank you

𝓣𝓻𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻

I think that's it by now. Thank you for doing it this far! Now, can we be mutuals? Or besties maybe? I don't have much to offer, but here is my visual representation:

If you want to know about my JJBA opinions search the tag #jjba 30 day challenge. I left it on day 6 but I'll continue soon. I promise.

Well, now's definitely over. I hope you see me as a cool person because that's my goal in life. Also, I'm praying for this shit to work well on my blog, this ain't Amino.

Have a nice stay! Thank you for making it this far. And remember: you're cool, you're loved and you matter. Take care of yourself please. See ya.

Kat out ;)

PS: If you read this, you have to follow me, I don't make the rules /j

#tag so i find this later

18 notes · View notes

solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

Text

Team Dark: A Holiday Special

Chapter One: Omega

Two | Three

Word count: about 5800 words

WARNING: this chapter contains entomophagy (eating insects)

Author's Note: I'm finally back! Sorry to make you all wait so long, but I really wanted to get this project out by December, so...here it is. I hope you all enjoy! (Also, apologies in advance for any bad formatting: Tumblr is being very uncooperative right now.)

...

It was, officially, a ‘lazy day’.

Team Dark was spending time at home, resting after the holiday frenzy of yesterday. Rouge had suddenly realized that they hadn’t decorated yet and that they all still needed to come up with present ideas for Team Sonic, so she and Shadow had spent the entire time in a sort of constant state of panic. Omega tried his best to help them, intermixed with a lot of gloating about his perfect memory and how he’d remembered to get a gift already.

He’d gotten punched halfway across the room for that one.

Now, a certain striped hedgehog was relaxing in his room, reading a book quietly. Until (of course) the peaceful silence was shattered by a loud blaring noise that sent him racing out the door and halfway down the stairs to their common area. Rouge was standing in the middle of the room, and shouted out to him, “Shadow! Come down here, I’m calling a group meeting!” Shadow winced and massaged one of his ears, his quills relaxing from their startled position as he walked over and sat down on the couch. He glowered at Rouge, who stood in front of him with the ‘team meeting airhorn’ still in hand. Despite his stare, she was still poised to blast again if Omega didn’t show up soon. Thankfully for Shadow’s hearing, Omega appeared quickly, albeit with much complaining about being dragged away from his targeting system calibrations. “Alright, Rouge, what’s all this about?” the hedgehog sighed, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees. She smiled cautiously at the two of them. “Before I say anything, I want you guys to know that this offer is optional. If it’s too much for you, you don’t have to say yes.” Omega spun one of his hands around, making a slight whirring noise. “Please continue.” Rouge sat down on one end of the aforementioned couch, sinking into the cushions with a sigh. “Okay. Let’s see. I haven’t...ever talked to you guys about my family before, have I?” “I do not recall you initiating any such conversation.” Omega answered, at the same time as Shadow replied, “No….?” “Well. Considering everything...I kind of figured it’s about time I told you all my story.” She smiled again, but it was a little bittersweet. Shadow inched closer, caution sparking in his eyes. “Where to start...I mean, I have a mom, two sisters, a stepsister, a stepbrother, and a stepmom. And a dad too, I guess?” “You guess?” Omega asked skeptically, before being shot a fierce ‘no questions‘ look by Shadow. “It’s alright, hon.” Rouge said, putting a hand on the hedgehog’s shoulder. “I guess I should really start at the beginning.” “My dad was a cat and my mom is a bat- obviously, hah. My two officially related sisters are twins, three years younger than me. Right before they were born, though...my dad left. He took all the cash with him when he did. And, well. Left Mom with a barely-paid-for apartment and without a job. “We, uh. Heard later that he ran off with some lady from his job. Mom...didn’t take it too well.” Shadow’s eyes widened and Omega smacked a fist into one hand. “Rouge. Is your father, hypothetically, good at withstanding high-powered attacks from a hypothetical extremely destructive robot?” She snickered. “No, he’s not. But please don’t actually fight him, alright?” His hands crackling with chaos energy, Shadow hissed, “Rouge...I think I like his plan.” He bared his fangs as he spoke, looking furious. Rouge smiled gratefully at the both of them. “Thanks, guys, but he’s really not even worth your time. Let me keep going, okay?” Omega sat back, irritated at the lack of pulverizing Rouge’s father going on, and Shadow, reluctantly, allowed his chaos energy to dissipate. “Yeah, so he left, and that was a whole thing. Mom worked hard for us, but it just...wasn’t enough to make ends meet. I started my career of...relieving people of their fancy objects-” here she winked- “at the age of eleven to help out. Dropped out of school after eighth grade to start full-time thievery once I turned fourteen, and, yeah. I had to leave home, otherwise Mom and the twins would’ve been in real trouble. “I got busted after two whole years by the one and only Guardian Units of Nations- not a bad streak, if I do say so myself. Then, I started working for G.U.N. to pay my dues to society, and...you all know the rest after that. I still kept sending checks back to the family, though.” Shadow and Omega were both looking at her with unreadable expressions at this point. “I’ve stopped doing that now, actually, since Mom’s been with her girlfriend for like a year now. She’s dating this super sweet cardinal who gives her basically everything my dad never did- her name’s Camellia and she has two little kids from her last marriage. She’s been so good for Mom, honestly.

“I know it’s usually supposed to be this whole thing where the stepdaughter hates the stepmom, but that’s not for me. When I got the news, I was just like ‘Oh, so that’s why I’m pan’ - yeah, really- and now I’m cool with it. Plus, I’ve got two new little sibs, so it’s all fine.

“So...yeah. That’s my family.”

Shadow sat there in deep thought for a minute. “Your family sounds nice...I’m just sorry you had to go through all of that.” he said, when he finally spoke up.

“Yeah, they’re great- and it’s okay. I mean, if it wasn’t for all that, I never would’ve found you guys!” she said, looking much brighter now. “Now that you know about them, you wanna see some pictures?”

“Certainly.” Omega said, curious to see these people that Rouge cared for so deeply.

“Okay, so...these are my twin sisters, Midori and Neela.” she said, showing a social media post of two identical coffee-colored cats posing for a selfie. Even their fur markings were exactly the same, as well as the shade of their golden eyes. Despite the fact that they were felines, something about them looked an awful lot like Rouge. The shape of their faces, perhaps?

“And here’s Camellia and Mom.” A picture came up of a beaming, moderately curvy white bat and an equally overjoyed cardinal with their arms around each other in front of a beautiful sunset.

“This is Jade, my stepsister, she’s ten-” Rouge showed an image of a young goldfinch playing soccer, kicking the ball fiercely. “-and that’s Spark, my stepbrother.” A small cardinal with a grin as broad as his mother’s was swinging on a swing at a playground, his eyes bright with the excitement of childhood.

Shadow smiled, looking as though he were a mixture of genuine happiness and a little ever-present pain. “They all look wonderful, Rouge. I’m...honored...that you felt like you could show us this.”

“That wasn’t so bad, honestly- I’ve been wanting to figure out how to do that for a while.” the bat said. “This is going to be the hard part.”

Two pairs of eyes watched her expectantly.

She exhaled. “Every year...my family has this big, three-day Wintersweek party. And when I say big, I mean seven out of my mom’s nine siblings and their spouses and kids. Like, more than twenty guests big.”

Omega interrupted her there. “If your mother has nine siblings, why did none of them bother to help her when she needed them?”

Rouge looked at the floor, a little sad. “Four of them were in debt themselves, two live in crazy places around the world and didn’t really know, and...the other three tried to help. Mom refused to take more than she could pay back. They still helped do other stuff like watch us while Mom was working, though.”

“Understood. You may continue.” Omega replied, shifting into a slightly less confrontational pose.

“So. I always go to this party, except for those two years when I was on the run. This is going to be my third year back. And…

“I really, really, reallyreally want to introduce my family to my two best friends. You know, the ones who live with me and always have my back and mean the world to me.” she said, looking straight at Shadow and Omega. The former blushed a faint green at the praise, while the latter scoffed.

“Of course you wish to do so. Our excellence is unparalleled.”

Rouge smiled hopefully at them. “I know it’s a lot to ask of you guys, but...will you come to the party this year?”

Omega processed this for a minute. “How amenable is your family towards weapons of incredible destructive power being present in their home?”

“Well, see, about that….” Rouge muttered. “...you might have to empty your weapons cartridges before we go.”

“I am unsure if this is an acceptable outcome. I will respect your wishes to an extent, but I refuse to be without weaponry at my disposal.”

The bat thought for a moment. “...you can bring the flamethrower, but only if you put a PIN lock on it.”

“...”

Rouge stared him down. “There’s going to be kids there. Kids.”

“Accepted.” Omega said finally. His tone switched to a more triumphant note as he added, “I shall come and impress all of your relatives with my power.”

Shadow had reservations, too. “Won’t it be weird, having people who aren’t really your family there?”

“Shadow…” she said gently. “...you two are as close to me as my ‘real family’, and I want you to be there.”

Omega noted that Shadow was behaving in a manner that suggested he was ‘flustered’. He folded his arms tightly, lowered his head, and his mouth was pressed tightly into a line- an attempt to hide a smile. “...but won’t I take up too much space? An extra bed is more difficult to manage than an outlet.”

Rouge sighed sharply, becoming frustrated with his hesitance. “Mom has air mattresses up to her ears specifically for this, and she lives in Camellia’s house now, which has like ten bedrooms anyway. And you’re totally not going to be ‘a bother’ or anything, so don’t even say that. Mom basically screamed when she found out I was bringing people, and I mean that in a good way. She didn’t stop asking me questions for half an hour.”

“I…” Shadow said tentatively, close to giving in.

“If they’re ever too much for you, though, just feel free to hide in one of the back rooms. There’s plenty of places where you won’t be disturbed.”

The hedgehog sighed, but he didn’t look upset. “I suppose I can try, for you.”

“Yes!” Rouge shouted, kicking her legs before getting up and bouncing up and down. “Heck yeah! This is gonna be great!”

…

Over the next week, they discussed the party numerous times, and Rouge spent a lot of time sitting in the middle of mountains of wrapping paper, packaging presents for her family. Omega and Shadow had tried to help her, but she’d insisted that they not worry about it. “It’s my family,” she had said, waving them away. “You being there is already more than enough. I’d never ask anything else of you.”

Shadow had still made cupcakes, though. Omega helped with the icing.

On the first day of the event, they set off early, making the several hours’ drive from Central City up to Rouge’s family’s house (north of Empire City) so that they’d arrive just before lunch. Thinking of Shadow, Rouge didn’t want him in particular to get caught up in the early (and supposedly quite intense) greetings that her family usually participated in. Omega resolved to turn his force output down just a little- he didn’t want to accidentally break someone’s hand instead of merely shaking it in introduction.

Of course, this all meant they had to endure a four-hour car ride together, involving lots of fights over what music was playing, several different long-distance driving games, and multiple threats to toss one another out the window while moving at 80 mph or more.

So, generally uneventful for them.

...

When they arrived at the family’s house, the E-series robot decreased his optic zoom to 85% just to take the entire place in. It was truly an enormous building, built from what appeared to be stone but on closer inspection was...actually stone. Unexpected, yet impressive.

Omega was mildly uncertain about the heating capabilities of such a house, but at least it was structurally sound. He would have to decide on its defensibility later.

“Wow.” Shadow muttered, his eyes wide. “I know you said it had ten bedrooms, but...wow.”

“I said I wasn’t messing around with you!” Rouge laughed brightly. “This place is crazy big.”

As soon as they opened the door and the bat stepped inside, the team was greeted by a loud shout of “Rouge!” from various delighted family members.

Her immediate family rushed over first, giving her lots of hugs (while her parents relieved Omega of the numerous presents she’d had him carry). Her stepbrother jumped up and down, asking, “Did you bring a present for me? Do I get one? Do I?”

Rouge smiled at him, picking the little cardinal up and giving him a hug. “Of course you do. There’s one right over there!” she said, pointing towards the giant pile of presents.

Rouge’s mother came rushing back over at that, greeting her daughter with a tight embrace. “Oh!” she exclaimed, noticing Omega and Shadow standing by the door. “Are these your friends, Rouge? Come on, introduce us!”

The younger bat grinned. “Alright, so this is my partner-in-crime and our resident edgy goth, Shadow,” she said, gesturing towards the hedgehog. He responded with a glower at Rouge for the latter remark and a polite “Nice to meet you.” to the family.

“And this is my personal palanquin (just kidding, just kidding) and awesome destroyer of enemies, Omega.”

“Greetings, Rouge’s relatives.” Omega said, turning his volume down to a level that Rouge had termed ‘inside voice’. First impressions and all that.

After making their way through many, many more greetings- which Omega recorded to play back for name storage later- the team were finally seated at one of the large couches in the living room. Rouge, being Rouge, began to chat cheerfully with a couple of her family members, describing her latest escapades with the other two team members as well as her general social life.

Shadow and Omega didn’t speak much at first, but the latter in particular soon began to interrupt her stories to point out multiple inaccuracies (mostly Rouge underplaying how utterly awesome he was). He found that he quite enjoyed talking about their various adventures, in fact.

However, the three quickly discovered that some of Rouge’s relatives had...misunderstood her stories.

One of the many aunts- whose name Omega had not yet stored- spoke up. “Rouge, I know you said you were bringing friends, but you don’t have to be shy with us, sweetie. Shadow here seems like a very thoughtful boyfriend.”

Chaos ensued. Rouge choked on her water and Omega had to pound her on the back to help her breathe again. Meanwhile, Shadow seemed to have reflexively assumed a defensive, curled-up position, yet Omega could still make out a faint glow of green from within the black and red ball.

“No!” the bat shouted, once she’d regained her breath. “No, no, we’re only friends, really!”

Her aunt seemed unconvinced, as did several other guests.

Shadow slowly uncurled, prepared to back Rouge up- though he seemed to have temporarily forgotten how to speak in his shock. His mouth moved silently, and he seemed to be having trouble stringing together a coherent sentence.

“I am not romantically involved with Rouge in any way.” he began slowly. “I assure you, she means the world to me, but in a platonic manner. I am grateful to have a friend like her, but that is all we are to each other.”

Several other relatives decided to weigh in on this.

“He seems like a very polite friend!”

“Rouge, even if you’re not together, you had better hang on to this one.”

“He certainly likes you, and that’s what’s important.”

“It’s alright if you aren’t dating, honey!” Rouge’s mom added. “Healthy platonic relationships are very important.”

The younger bat shook her head, covering her eyes with her hand. “Guys, please.” she groaned, before looking over at Shadow.

The hybrid appeared to be surreptitiously trying to get in touch with his hedgehog heritage and burrow underneath the cushions by this point. Rouge grinned at him and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him back out into the open. “Come on, don’t make him embarrassed! It’s only day one, guys!”

Shadow cringed at that. Omega, meanwhile, was most definitely not recording any of this and storing it safely in his blackmail folder. Not at all.

…

A little later on, after everyone had eaten lunch, Omega (being the strongest on the team, despite Shadow’s protests otherwise) hauled their suitcases upstairs with little trouble. Rouge had been too busy talking to come with him, and Shadow looked as though he’d buried himself in a pile of cushions and probably wouldn’t be moved without extreme force, so he’d gone up alone.

Looking around the small room, he...found it quite tolerable, honestly. Sunlight streamed in through two medium-sized windows, and there were several empty floating shelves on the walls for their things, as well as a linen closet. There were only two beds in the room, since Omega just required a…

Ah, there it was. A charging port.

The robot was actually more pleased than he expected with the amount of mock evergreen, poinsettias, and other such ornaments in the room, though. He wasn’t much one for artistic expression himself (preferring to express his thoughts via some choice language and a few well-aimed rockets), but his friends were more...appreciative of such things and would likely enjoy the decoration.

Bored with examining the room already, he put down the suitcases and began to explore the house, trying to figure out what the floor plan looked like. He walked through all of the different rooms, enjoying himself while examining all of the possible defensive vantage points and the most optimal attack areas.

Sure, fighting was his job, but who said he couldn’t enjoy contingency planning? Mapping out attacks on his place of residence and figuring out how to best repel invaders was one of his favorite pastimes (right up there with visiting the mall with his friends).

However, once he had planned out about five different strategies, he realized that an hour had gone by and that it was probably a good idea to go check up on said friends.

After he carefully made his way back downstairs- trying to walk in a way that didn’t shake the house was difficult- he saw Rouge still chatting with some of her cousins and looking very happy. Shadow was barely even visible, curled up in a dark corner and alternating between reading and listening to the conversation. Everyone honestly seemed to be enjoying themselves.

However, there was one jarring thing about this warm, familial scene that Omega noticed.

The little children.

They were everywhere. Climbing their parents like a jungle gym, interrupting conversations left and right, running around underfoot, and generally causing mayhem in their wake. While Omega highly appreciated their impressive ability to cause confusion and chaos, he suspected that most of the other people here did not. Multiple guests looked ready to break something, and the robot was fully aware that Rouge’s family did not share his opinions on wanton destruction.

So, he decided to do something about this.

“SMALL CHILDREN,” he shouted, gaining the attention of the entire household. “I CHALLENGE YOU TO A SNOWBALL FIGHT.” That was an acceptable (and fun) form of violence, if he remembered correctly. Rouge certainly looked interested.

The children began to bounce around in various states of excitement, their energy somehow increasing exponentially at this prospect. “Whose team will you be on, mister?” Rouge’s stepbrother asked bravely.

“MY OWN. NONE OF YOU CAN DEFEAT ME.” Omega declared.

“Yeah, right!” an older child shouted. “Come on, guys, let’s go!”

The entire group rushed outside and began to build a snow fort for the upcoming attack. Most of the children were clearly struggling to organize, as half seemed to comprehend the need for a well-structured creation and half were just piling up snow like maniacs.

Meanwhile, Omega began to carefully form large building blocks out of the snow, building a formidable fortress (snow could be imposing, alright??). Once he was satisfied with his semicircle construction, he noticed that he still had a few minutes to wait before the children finished theirs. He spent this time making snowballs, as well as a few other...adjustments. When the children shouted out “Ready!”, he was more than prepared.

Since they were, again, Rouge’s relatives, he was very, very generous and gave them the first chance to fire. The children launched snowball after snowball, but he ducked behind his fort and only one found its mark. Once they were all out of ammunition and scrambling for more, he felt a smug sense of satisfaction.

It was time.

He loaded his arms full of snowballs…

And proceeded to launch them out of his machine gun ports at the children.

The kids scattered in all directions, shrieking with a mixture of fear and excitement. Omega, during their attack, had thought to make even more projectiles, turning what was supposed to be organized warfare into a one-sided rampage of destruction.

By now, Rouge had appeared on the deck and was currently howling with laughter, tears streaming down her face as she watched Omega launch his onslaught of snow. Shadow was standing at the doorway along with several others, a giant wicked grin spread across his face.

The E-series robot truly wished he could make that second expression right now. He turned to Rouge, watching her cackle…

...and immediately proceeded to fire a massive amount of snow at her as well. Her laughter transformed into a gasp of mock betrayal as she scooped up some of the offending substance, packing it into a weapon of her own. “Oh. It. Is. On.”, she hissed, shaking the snow off her wings.

Taking to the skies, she began a counterattack, distracting Omega with varied sizes of snowballs and forcing him to try and fire directly upwards. The children, realizing that they had a powerful ally in Rouge, began to make new projectiles themselves and threw them at him from all sides, until Omega finally found that he was struggling to handle the attack.

As he began to turn the tide again, he realized suddenly that this was entirely due to Rouge’s absence…

...and of course that was when a shadow fell over him.

Followed by a giant pile of snow.

He flailed in the icy trap as he struggled to regain his bearings. Once he had managed to clamber halfway out of the snow, he saw Rouge hovering above him. Her wings struggled to hold her in the air as she laughed again, and he noticed sulkily that she was holding a sheet.

“Cheater.” he muttered, indignant at having been trapped in such an unflattering manner.

“Cheating?! From the guy who launched snowballs like missiles? Really?” she shouted down to him good-naturedly, shaking her head. “Talk about hypocritical, Omega.”

The E-series robot still insisted on having the last laugh, though- he had to get out somehow, so he powered on all of his fans at full blast to clear away the snow. And if everyone was standing too close to avoid the resulting icy shower, well then that was their problem.

After that, though, everyone had to go inside and dry themselves off. Organics couldn’t handle being wet and cold very well, and Omega didn’t like the idea of his circuitry being shorted out. He felt a great sense of satisfaction at having established his status as the cool one on the very first day, though.

He spent a little more time with the young ones after that, playing several rounds of a popular card game called One with them and stacking up all of the plus-fours. The robot showed no mercy even in games.

Several children, evidently impressed by his prowess (or perhaps just in awe of the fact that he was a giant robot) begged him for promises that he would play more tomorrow, to which he quickly agreed. Not long after, to everyone’s disappointment, the kids’ parents came and practically dragged them to the dinner table, having shouted their names four or five times by this point.

As he walked into the dining room, Omega surveyed the area, focusing for a moment on the glow that the many candles gave off on the table. Fire was always a nice touch.

Looking further, he noticed that the wooden table alone was a formidable piece of furniture, filling the largest room in the house and forcing some chairs to squeeze up against the wall just to make space. And that wasn’t even mentioning the feast laid out on top of it. Omega ignored that for now in favor of sitting down on one side of Rouge after he saw her at the table. Looking over to her other side, he noticed Shadow surveying the food spread out on the table with what most would consider a completely blank look.

Omega, however, had experience with analyzing Shadow’s facial expressions, and noted the slight tension in his face as well as the fact that he was fidgeting with his silverware. Both he and Rouge had a good idea as to why, too- Shadow didn’t need any of this.

The hybrid had been created with incredible physical resilience, able to withstand the most arduous of conditions. This included a significant lack of food. He actually ate only about three times a week, and even then he only consumed small meals. While it was about time for him to eat today, the fact that there would be even more food over the next couple of days seemed to have produced a conundrum for him.

If he ate now, he wouldn’t need to later, which could be quite awkward, particularly when everybody else would. Omega thought through the options and decided that there were three main paths he could take: eat now and not later, not eat now but do so later, or possibly attempt to eat a little on all three days.

Rouge seemed to have realized this as well. Leaning over to Shadow, she whispered, “Whatever you want to do is fine, hon. It’s okay if you eat a lot over these few days- everyone else here will too. If you don’t want to, though, that’s cool- just make sure you have something at some point, alright?”

The robot watched as Shadow relaxed slightly at her understanding words. The change was almost imperceptible, but he now sat back in his chair instead of forward, and he’d stopped adjusting his place setting.

Once everyone was seated and they’d given a quick toast, the family began to dig in. Shadow sat back and waited for everyone else to take some food first- a wise choice. Rouge, on the other hand, entered the rather impressive food frenzy with a voracity that her team members knew all too well- she often complained that one of her few vices (aside from gems and other sparkly objects) was food.

Omega took this time to survey what he could see of the dishes, interested in finding out for himself what a proper Wintersweek meal looked like. He saw two dishes that appeared to be some sort of poultry, as well as bowls of finger food that looked like they were filled with crickets and beetles. Various platters of cooked vegetables in every color of the rainbow covered the table, some with sliced fruit available as well. Loaves of bread in multiple shapes and sizes were scattered throughout the presentation, accented by artfully placed centerpieces.

Quite honestly, it looked impressive.

Rouge had a little bit of everything on her plate, and was currently digging into a buttery baked potato like she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Omega silently put his napkin next to her plate, the (sarcastic) message clear: You need this more than I do.

Shadow, meanwhile, had taken a little fruit, one piece of meat, and two slices of bread, but seemed very hesitant to eat much more than that. He looked to be quite invested in a conversation that several of the adults were having about their own teenage experiences, often leaning in slightly when a funny story came up.

Omega mostly kept an eye on his friends, while also half listening to the children talk about the latest video game that had become popular. It seemed to contain lots of fighting combined with some impressive storytelling, and the robot made a note of the game title for his own use later.

However, as he checked on Rouge again, making sure she hadn’t choked on her food, he noticed that she had left her plate to the side in favor of talking to her family about...wait.

Omega knew this story.

This was a story where he was walking through the halls of an abandoned underground hideout for a highly sophisticated ring of criminals (an assignment for their entire team). In which said diabolical criminals had installed multiple traps designed to keep people out. And these traps. Included magnets. That specifically messed up artificial intelligence.

Omega’s memory had been severely impaired by the event, but Shadow and Rouge told him later that they had discovered him stumbling around the main hub of the base, rambling out loud about things as ridiculous as current weather patterns and- he shuddered internally- kittens. He was eternally grateful for this memory loss, though, as the two had apparently, instead of taking this seriously, dissolved into helpless laughter on the spot.

Of course, they had taken him to Tails to get fixed up. But not until after Rouge had filmed another five minutes or so of him acting absolutely loopy while their laughter, punctuated with the occasional gasp for breath, filled the background.

And she was just getting to the part where they found him now-!

The E-series robot shot out of his chair and clamped a hand over Rouge’s mouth, turning his volume low and hissing “Don’t you dare.” in her ear.

Unfortunately, this only added to everyone else’s interest, as Rouge began to cackle loudly at Omega’s evident embarrassment and her memory of the event. “Tell us! Tell us!” Camellia (Rouge’s stepmother) cried out, clapping her hands and looking for all the world like a child who had just been handed a chocolate bar.

“Help me, Shadow!” Rouge shouted through the steel grip on her face, slurring her words with laughter. The hybrid, happy to take a break from the crowded room and equally happy to shame Omega, pried the robot off of Rouge and somehow managed to drag him out of the room as everyone now leaned in to hear her finish the story.

“So we were really worried, right? Since we hadn’t heard anything? And then we-”

Shadow shut the door on her voice and smirked at Omega, but there was a tinge of real happiness in his expression. “It’s alright, Omega. She doesn’t actually want you to feel bad, you know.”

“That’s what you say.” he scoffed. “Rouge isn’t in there telling them about the time you didn’t eat for a month on a mission and then binge-”

“Alright, alright!” Shadow groaned. “I get it, but let’s let her have fun, alright? This is her family, after all.”

“Fine.” Omega grumbled. “But I will get you back for this.”

“Sure you will.” Shadow raised an eyebrow at him.

This led to a fierce staring match/arm-wrestling battle and subsequent argument over who won, immediately followed by Omega pulling out his phone and the two watching a recently popular obstacle course show. Of course, they both agreed that they could do far better than any of the contestants.

Eventually, though, as the evening wore on, the two joined back up with Rouge to head to their room. Shadow took a hot shower while Rouge changed into her favorite pajamas- they were soft and white with little pink hearts all over (her favorite colors).

She yawned loudly just as the hybrid walked in, already wrapped in a blanket and pulling on some plain black nightwear. He didn’t really need it, but his fifty-year stint in what was essentially a superpowered freezer had left him with a distinct dislike for the cold.

Omega had already plugged into the outlet and begun to charge, but yet…”Why don’t I get a blanket?”

“What the heck d’ you want one for?” Rouge muttered, already exhausted.

“Well, you both have them.” he muttered sulkily, glowering at them from his corner of the room.

The bat opened up the closet in the room, looking up at the top shelf. “Shadow, c’mere. I can’t reach this thing by myself.”

He walked over quickly, not appearing to be tired at all. Omega, as always, knew better, and saw the fatigue from the long day that he tried to hide behind his “Ultimate Lifeform” title.

Rouge jumped onto his shoulders in a practiced movement, snatching a pale purple fluffy blanket from the shelf and flinging it half-heartedly at Omega. “There’s your blanket.” she declared, before jumping straight from Shadow to her bed.

She settled into her usual sleeping position, with her feet hooked over the headboard and her face and pillow about halfway down the bed. It wasn’t a typical behavior for most, but she was a bat, after all. “‘Night, guys.” she murmured, already half asleep.

Shadow carefully lifted his blankets and slid under them, trying to keep them as neat as possible. The hedgehog shifted into a half-curled position, displaying his quills to the world and protecting his vulnerable legs and chest. “Sleep well, Rouge. Goodnight, Omega.” he said softly, still trying to stay awake.

“Good night.” the robot replied.

Omega kept an eye on his teammates, the room lit only by a patch of moonlight from the window. He listened to Rouge’s slight snoring, and watched as Shadow’s eyes slowly closed and his breathing evened out.

The robot was always cautious about shifting into his own form of ‘sleep’, but reminded himself that this was not enemy territory. This was Rouge’s family’s house, and they were all safe.

Still, he watched his friends sleep peacefully for a while longer. Then, he selected low power mode from his menu of choices and allowed his eyes to go dark.

#shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #team dark #team dark: a holiday special #thought i'd give rouge a big family to make up for shadow & omega having none #she still had a rough childhood though...#:(#90% of omega's 'contingency planning' was definitely fantasizing about awesome battle scenes #shadow is moderately sad as always #hope you enjoyed!!#sol's fanfiction

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limi-pie · 3 years

Text

The taste of Red Wine part 5

A/N: Hey everyone long time no see, happy new years! (very late I knooow!) Anyways it’s been quite a while since the I last posted a chapter of TTORW (the taste of red wine). The reason being why is: I’ve been procrastinating so much and had been lazy. Also, I kept changing the plot in chapter 5, because I didn’t like the way I wrote and it was kinda boring (you feel me?). But also I have been busy with my personal life and had been working a lot at my job. But it is finally time to post this chapter.

Any who here’s chapter 5, I’ve used a lot on time writing this.

The previous chapter is here. So I hope you all will enjoy it!

Genre: Mafia AU, Teacher! Female Reader, Mafia leader! Yoongi.

Warnings: Violence, bad language, angst, blood, gun shots, wounds, cursing, mentions of smoking, alcohol, flirting, slight hint of Yoongi being jealous and possessive? (Bruh. I don’t how this works, let me know if I should add more)

Summary: You’re starting to get the hang of doing Mafia business, somehow you feel like your ordinary teacher life will start to clash with your adventurous Mafia assistant life upon meeting this new colleague. How will Y/N handle that?

Last edited: On the 11th of August 2022 due to some minor phrases and word changes.

Wordcount: 9,459

The next morning I woke up to the shimmering sunlight from my window. I yawned loudly as I stood up and gazed down at the crowded city. It was Wednesday the 6th of May, at 7:00 AM.

Today sure is chilly, I guess it’ll rain today. I'll make sure to bring an umbrella.

I went into the living room as I let out a small giggle. He looks so cute sleeping there quietly and peacefully. I sat on my knees as I cuddled his nose, poor thing. His nose was icy cold like a snowball, I tried to pull back. “Five more minutes… You’re so warm…” It sounded from a sleepy Yoongi’s raspy morning voice as he wrapped an arm around my back burying his head onto me. “Alright, but only five minutes.” I patted his messy blonde hair and admired his pale face for a moment, naturally my hand cupped his cheek.

I knew he was nothing but danger. But I couldn’t help… but think all he ever wanted was to be: loved, heard, and understood by someone.

Yoongi groaned as he finally opened his eyes and sat up. “Good morning Y/N.” But I was still deep in my thoughts when I suddenly woke up. “Good morning, Sir Min Suga,” I said as I removed my hand and rubbed my arm awkwardly. “Heh, it’s okay you can call me Yoongi when my members aren’t around. You know that right?” He sat up as he looked me up and down before looking away shyly. I guess my silk dress is too short, he’s such a dork. “Are you hungry? Should I make us some breakfast?” He nodded as he got up to use the bathroom and I went to the kitchen as I wore my apron. Then I turned on the gas stove as I grabbed a pan and grabbed some eggs. I cracked them into a bowl and whisked vigorously, afterward I chopped some vegetables then I mixed them with the egg mixture. Afterward, I washed the rice and turned the rice cooker on, whilst it was cooking I sliced some tofu and soaked it in soy sauce. I placed the vegetable omelets on a plate, then Yoongi came out shirtless with a white towel around his neck.

“Breakfast’s almost done–” I dropped my wooden spatula as I saw his fine features up close. “Do you like what you’re seeing, Y/N?” He cooed as he pinned his arm on the refrigerator and I got flustered as he took advantage of this whole situation.

My back meeting the refrigerator as I tried to look away but he lifted my chin, making my eyes only focus on him. “Yoongi…–” He cupped my face and pulled me into a deep long kiss. I hesitated a bit but finally brought myself to hold onto his chest. Our lips parted after a couple of seconds. “Mmm, you’re a surprisingly good kisser, Y/N.” Yoongi put on a smug smile on his face, before running his thumb over my bottom lip, and all I could do was watch him embarrassedly.

“P-put on a goddamn shirt! You can’t walk around like that around a woman you know!” I yelled as I plated some radish Kimchi. He chuckled as he picked up his clothes and wore them. I handed him a bowl filled with warm rice topped with some red and black beans. “Thanks, it smells amazing.” We ate as Yoongi asked for seconds and I smiled. “So what time do you head to your workplace?” I tilted my head as I scoffed. “I’m off today, I have some courses to attend in Busan. Why?” His tongue clicked as he checked his phone before finally speaking. “Well, I’m meeting with Jaebeom around 1:00 PM, meanwhile I think I should help you with the hacking program Jungkook sent you.” I gasped as I laughed. “Oh! Yeah, I almost forgot about that.” I said as I went to my bedroom. “Just stay there, I’ll get my laptop.” Yoongi walked around as his eyes scanned the living room, he noticed a closed door. Curiosity killed his mind as he opened the door and went inside to explore. “So this is the bastard’s bedroom.” The bed was a mess, alcohol and food stains were visible on the carpet floor. But what caught his attention was the dusted shelf with some photos of Y/N and Daniel.

A letter with pink hearts saying: “Thank you for loving and being with me. Happy 3rd anniversary, love you lots. - Yours truly Y/N M. Lee”

“Yoongi, what are you doing in here? You can’t just enter Daniel’s room like that…” I saw him hold the framed photo of me and Daniel when he finally turned around. “Why isn’t he here? Your so-called boyfriend?” His left fist clenched and I sighed, facepalming as I pulled his hand. We left the room.

“Look. I told you he’s staying at his friend’s place for a while. It’s pretty normal for couples to have fights and arguments.” I held my laptop close to my chest trying to comfort my pathetic excuse, “I mean that’s when you know a relationship is strong…” Yoongi was quiet and didn’t respond. I bet what I just said must’ve upset him. “Never mind. Guess you’re just like every other naive woman. Come on, let’s just focus on the hacking program.” He said as he sat down on the couch, it took me a couple of minutes before placing the laptop on the table and turning my back to him.

“…Other naive women? Tch, thanks Suga.” I stood there crossing my arms before slamming my hands on the table. Feeling myself get fierce and as that word struck a nerve in me. “Why don’t you hire some other placeholder as your stupid replacement for Jeon Jungkook?! Like that girl Candy, Huh?!” This was the second time I’ve raised my voice at Yoongi and potentially threatened him. A couple of seconds went by and only silence was present in the room.

“I should just go, you know. Ask Jungkook to help you out, whatever you do. I don’t give a fucking damn.” He stood up fixing his tie before walking for the door. “Yoongi… W-wait I didn’t mean–” He turned around and glared. “Whatever it is, it’s not important. I’ve some business to take care of and I don’t have any time for your unnecessary drama.” Yoongi said as he walked out and closed the door behind him. I felt myself fall to my knees and cover my face. “Why am I so fucking stupid? Nngh… Stupid, stupid, stupid…” I began whimpering and sobbing, I once again let my emotions get the best of me. After 30 minutes of spacing out and feeling the guilt, I got up to check on my phone. I had 3 unread messages from the mysterious number I’ve never seen.

01 09 19 97:

“Hello Lee Y/N Noona”

“How’s the hacking program running any problems or technical issues? Just tell me and I’ll help you right away, boss said something important came up.”

“By the way this is Jungkook.”

I smiled a bit seeing his cute and polite texts. “Thanks, Jungkook. It means a lot, sure thing let me just check it through.” I opened my laptop and ran the program as I checked the settings.

“I’ll make sure to write back to you and keep you updated if anything goes wrong.” I sighed before seeing all the green digits and different files named ‘tutorials’. I clicked around for 40 minutes as I decided to call Jungkook.

“Hello? Hi~ Jeon Jungkook, am I bothering you? No, I’m sorry, it’s just. I think I’ve got the hang of it and such. And I was thinking, no I was wondering if we could meet up at a cafe and test it out? Really? You’ll come to pick me up? Thank you so much!” I brightened up a little by talking with Jungkook, though he’s the youngest. He seems like the kindest and good guy among the Bangtan Gang. The clock showed 12:05 PM on my watch as I waited for him near the Gangnam station, holding my red umbrella as it was raining. I checked my hair and face one more time, reassuring that I didn’t have something on it.

A silver KIA car pulled up as Jungkook lowered the window and smiled. “Good afternoon, Noona. How are you?” I couldn’t help but smile back, though his arm was injured he drove all the way here to pick me up. “I’m good Jungkook, how are you? You shouldn’t have driven if your arm’s still injured. I feel terrible for making you do this.” He chuckled as he rubbed the steering wheel, looking confident. “I’m alright Noona, really. If I can play Overwatch then driving you to the “City Hall” Station shouldn’t be much of a problem.” I scoffed before ruffling his hair and giggling. He smiled when suddenly his eyes looked down on my lips and then up to my eyes. He got shy as he looked away blushing slightly. “Silly guy, there’s no way I’d let you drive, the other members would be so worried. Now move over, Noona knows a shortcut.” He agreed as he moved over to sit in the passenger seat. After driving for a bit, I parked the car as we headed inside a coffee shop.

“So if I want to reach “Yeonsan” Station in Busan… I’ll have to take Line 1 all the way to “City Hall” Station. From there switch to Line 1 heading towards Nopo and that should be just one long stop.” I explained to myself as I walked with Jungkook, he chuckled. “Noona you sure are weird, but still very smart.” He said, rubbing his ear as he entered the coffee shop. “What really? Well, it’s just that I’ve to be somewhere in an hour that’s why. Anyways what would you like to order? I’ll treat us to something delicious.” His eyes widened as he shook his head politely.

“No, no. Noona I can’t let you pay, not after all the work you’re doing for us–” I smiled as I declined, sitting down near the glass window. “No, really it’s fine, Jungkook. I mean it, after all, you drove all the way here with that injured arm. This is the least I can do, you know.” My dimples were showing from smiling so much at Jungkook. Looking at him, he’s as cute and kinda resembles an innocent bunny. I have a hard time believing he’s the hitman of the Bangtan Gang…

“Umm Noona, I'd like to order a cup of café latte. Pretty please.” He bowed his head before chucking a bit and showing me a soft smile. “Sure I’ll get you that. I’ll be right back.” I got up walking to the line as I waited patiently for my turn to order. “Hi, I’m Johnny and what can I do for you, Ms.?” I nodded as I pointed to the menu cart on the board. “Yes, I’d like to order one hot Café Latte and one Iced Caramel Macchiato, thank you.” I paid as I got our drinks and made my way to Jungkook. When my eyes caught the attention of a handsome young man, he looked much like Prince Eric from ‘The Little Mermaid’. His soft dark brown hair, the white shirt he was wearing. And those pretty brown eyes were gazing into mine. He flashed me a soft smile as I looked away, realizing I was staring for a long time. “Noona, is everything alright? You stood there and just stared at the air…” I sat down as I shook my head a little.

“Yeah, yeah. I just… spaced out a bit. Sorry, you had to wait a bit too long. But here’s your drink, one warm Café Latte and one Iced Caramel Macchiato for me, hehe.” I took a little sip of mine as I giggled. “Wow Noona, thanks so much! This tastes really great, I guess coffee in Busan is tastier than Seoul.” We both laughed as he took out a tablet. “Alright, I know you probably got the hang of it. But let me show you how it works. Look at the electric menu board with all the beverages.” I looked closely as Jungkook tapped on his tablet before one of the beverages changed into ‘Banana Milk’. “W-Woah! That’s so cool, how did you do that?!” He smirked as he showed me the same program as my laptop running on his tablet.

“You see, Noona, I’m not only a great hacker. I’m also an excellent programmer.” He winked and smirked as he showed me his phone running the same program too. “Wow. You’re really amazing, Jeon Jungkook!” He laughed before typing some stuff and pressing a few buttons. “Wait for it and there!” He hacked one of the security cameras monitoring us. “Omg Jungkook you’re so cool! Now quit it or we’ll get kicked out!” I giggled as he returned everything back to normal, we both laughed. Some time had passed as I learned a few more things about hacking and altering digits. “Anyways, I think Boss would like you to join the meeting with the GOT7 Gang.”

Jungkook mentioned, packing his laptop into his backpack as he checked the time. I thought back to the fight that we had earlier this morning as I felt guilty. “No. I don’t think Suga needs me to be there for that meeting. Last time with the GOT7. Things didn’t really go well last time and I’m probably a nuisance anyways–” I was blabbering when he interrupted me with an obvious question. “Could it be, did you and Hyung fight or argue today?” My eyes went from staring at the ground to look up at Jungkook once before nodding.

“Yeah, we kinda did. And it’s all because of me. I’m the one at fault. I think he hates me now, once again Y/N’s a huge idiot…” Jungkook patted my hair as he smiled brightly. “Don’t worry about it, Noona. I know Boss Suga can be cold and direct, I’m sure he doesn’t feel that way about you. You’re not an idiot.” His words made me feel a little less guilty as I walked down the street for my train. “Jeon Jungkook, thank you. It means a lot and thanks for teaching me once again.” I bowed my head, showing my gratitude as he chuckled.

“No need to thank me. After all, Noona you treated me to coffee. So I guess that makes us even?” I nodded as I waved while smiling. “Drive safe, I’ll see you around.” I headed down the subway. I was checking how many minutes until Line 1 would arrive. It was just 3 minutes and I checked my phone to see the time. I entered it as I listened to “Some” by BOL4. The long ride was over as I finally reached “Yeonsan Station”. I recognized the building as I headed inside. I had to check-in at the reception, I saw a lady with the name tag 'Im Na Yeon’. I approached her desk as I greeted her.

“Hello, Miss how may I help you?” I smiled, bowing my head. “Yes could you kindly help me, find this?” I asked, taking out my ID and the meeting information. “Just need to find the place for English courses and here’s the information.” Nayeon smiled as she looked at her computer screen. “Yes Ms. Meílíng, it’s on the 13th floor, down the blue hall and it’s room 93. You can take the elevator over there.” She explained pointing as I bowed again, making my leave. “Thank you so much, have a great day Miss,” I said as I walked to the elevator as it closed and I noticed the familiar man. Whom I encountered at Starbucks earlier with Jungkook. The elevator opened again as I bowed my head, walking inside.

“Thank you, Sir.” Our eyes locked as I looked away when he cleared his throat. “You must be Lee Meílíng Y/N. The one who teaches ‘Korean, English literature and culture’, I’ve heard your students scored the highest scores on last year’s English exams.” I looked at him swiftly as I pursed my lips.

“How… How did you know that? And how come you know my name as well?” He tilted his head, smiling gently as he leaned in our eyes once again locked. “Name’s Wong Kunhang, but I go by Mr. Wong. I’m going to be your new colleague at National Seoul University.” I looked up as he held his hand out once the elevator opened. I blinked a few times catching a good glimpse of his fine eyes as I shook his hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wong. I look forward to working with you.” I smiled bowing as I was shaking his hand calmly. “It’s a pleasure finally meeting you, Ms. Meílíng Y/N.” We both walked down the blue hall, my heels clicking. As it seemed like, we were heading for the same location. I stood in front of the door with the number ‘93’ sign near it when I noticed him waiting for me to enter. I felt like something or someone was watching me, I looked behind me once more before entering. I sat down as the professor started to talk as I wrote down some notes from her PowerPoint.

Meanwhile at the Bangtan mansion… “Wait, where’s Ms. Y/N? Is she upstairs?” A curious Jackson Wang asked as he looked around. “No, sorry. Mr. Wang, she happened to have something else to attend to.” Jungkook explained as he sat down and Jaebeom stared at Jackson. “Anyways, back to what I was saying, Mr. Min Suga. Er-hmm the information I’ve gathered about the Blood Vessel Gang is inside this file. Jinyoung, please hand it over. Jinyoung nodded as he took a folder out of his jacket. “Here it is, Mr. Min. I hope you find it useful.” Yoongi took it as he looked at it before analyzing all the information.

“Thanks. It may not be a lot, but so far it’s useful. So Jayden, Seungri, Josh, and Max. I still got Jayden locked down in the basement, so far he’s giving up a bit of information, slowly.” He drank a shot of Soju, looking around the GOT7 members. “Maybe we could use some backup with two or three of your members, Mr. Jaebeom. I think tracking Josh and Max is the key to locate Seungri.” Taehyung suggested, as he was drinking some Sake and looked at the map with their hideouts. “If you need that, I’m willing to lend you some help. However, it’s not going to be without a deal first. It’ll cost you quite, some cash.” Jaebeom said, looking up as he drank some white wine. “By the way, Mr. Min. Aren’t you usually 4 men in your gang? Where’s Mr. Park Jimin?” Jackson asked, looking around as he had a serious look on Yoongi. “He’s out for an important task, I had asked him to take care of it. Why, does it concern you, Mr. Wang?” He scoffed, staring as his tongue clicked.

I know, not everyone is aware that Lee M. Y/N is working with the Bangtan Gang. But for her safety and ours, I’m counting on Jimin to spy on her and look out for her. In case, the Blood Vessel Gang or other Gangs might be onto something. I can’t afford to lose her.

“Well, it was just unusual Mr. Min. Anyway, I think I’ll be able to lend a hand in finding those guys. Besides I’m great in combat and speed, so you can count on me. Maybe Y/N would be on Team Wang. If she saw these guns, cause whoo!~” Jackson said as he had a smug look flexing his biceps and muscles. “Jungkook what took you so long? You said you went to drive for a bit. Did something happen?” Taehyung asked as he whispered. “I was in a cafe with Y/N, she needed help with hacking and she treated me to some coffee.” He chuckled happily as he was blushing a bit as Yoongi squinted his eyes in confusion.

“You were on a date with Y/N?!?” Taehyung yelled as he was clearly jealous, and it caught the attention of the rest of the GOT7 Gang. “Date? No way, so Y/N’s into younger guys and her type is gamer guys?!” Jackson asked in disappointment as he crossed his arms. Yoongi clenched his fist a bit as he drank a whole bottle of Soju. “It-It wasn’t a date! She said it was more of her way of saying thanks for helping her with things and such.” About 90 minutes had passed as they got up and had made a deal. “So Jackson, Yugyeom, and Jinyoung are going to help you. In exchange for some money and weapons, Bangtan.” Yoongi nodded, shaking Jaebeom’s hand and agreeing to the deal. “I’ll send some more details and information about the NCT Gang from my computer to you, Jungkook,” Yugyeom said as he headed out along with the rest of the gang.

“Boss, are you okay? You seem quite furious or rather frustrated about something.” Taehyung asked as he looked at the empty cans of Soju around Yoongi, that he had drunk. “Why do you ask? Mind your own business.” He waddled to the bathroom as he groaned. Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, shrugging their shoulders as they headed inside his room to play Super Mario Odyssey. “Jesus Christ, Y/N. Why do you have to be so troublesome!? Why can’t you understand that? That I like you?” Yoongi asked himself while hiccuping. Looking at his drunk expression in the mirror. He headed upstairs as he laid on his bed, checking his text messages with his brother. Before accidentally dialing his number. “Hey, how are you? I just finished my classes, everything okay?” Yoongi’s older brother asked as he answered, waiting for his answer. “Hyung… Can… Can… y-you pick me up and drive me somewhere in an hour?” Yoongi asked drunkenly as he hiccuped once again.

Wong kept his eyes on me, something about him made me attracted to him. I couldn’t tell what it was, maybe it’s the glasses or his pretty eyes or his collected personality?

“Excuse me, Ms. Meílíng. Ms. Meílíng!” I shook my head as I was thinking again. When I noticed Wong waving his hand in front of me. “Are you alright?” I grabbed my bottle and drank some water, blushing in embarrassment. “Y-yeah, I think something was on my mind. I’m terribly sorry, Ms. Sung.” Wong chuckled a bit as he looked down on his tablet typing some notes. “Alright everyone, time for a small 10 minutes break! Feel free to use the bathroom or grab a cup of coffee.” Ms. Sung announced as she left the classroom shortly. I checked my phone as I read a text message from Lisa, apparently, she has been hanging out a lot with her childhood friend from Thailand. I texted, saying I’ll call her later. “So Ms. Meíling, I was thinking of you and I could treat you to dinner later in the evening?” I was smiling like a dork because of those dirty jokes I and Lisa made. “Sorry what? Are you asking me on a date, Mr. Wong? Then the answer’s a clear no.”

He’s probably trying to get into my panties. Hmmph, as if I hadn’t heard of that poor excuse of a pick-up line countless times. But I’m not falling for that shit.

He scoffed, looking down on his phone, “well, not quite. I was thinking of getting to know you a bit better through a fancy dinner. Considering you’ll be my supervisor when you’ll show me around campus at National Seoul University. But if you aren’t interested then that’s understandable.” He looked at me, smiling as he got up to look at the window. I put my phone down as I was too quick to judge his intentions, “sorry, I was a bit too judgemental.”

I stood up as I looked at him, bowing my head. “It’s just that I’m so used to newly hired male colleagues always flirting or trying to hook up with me. That’s why I’m so quick to reject offers like that.” He turned around as he bowed his head too, “no. It’s alright, you’re quite an excellent, mature and responsible woman as the principal has described you. But I’m strictly here to work and not have any relationships with any of my female colleagues.”

Hearing him speak so well-mannered and respectful, that was a different answer from others. He truly was like a prince. Part of me wanted to say yes to his request, the other part of me also hesitated.

The break was over as Ms. Sung began writing stuff down on the blackboard. “I’ll give you my answer after this,” I whispered into his ear he simply nodded as we had to analyze and discuss Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. The class was over as I looked at him. “So um sure let’s go for dinner. What time and where should we meet?” I spoke, packing my things and bag. “Well, how about 7:00 PM in front of the “Gwanak-Gu Office” station, Ms. Meílíng?” I nodded, slipping a piece of paper into his suit, “here’s my number in case you’re late, Mr. Wong. See you later.~” I added, taking my leave as he scoffed. “Heh, that fierceness and confidence. I’ll definitely see you, Y/N.” I walked outside the building, heading straight to the station. “Really? Did you hook up with one of your childhood friends from Thailand? Omg Lalisa Manoban you’re wild!” I was walking towards the station as I spoke with her on the phone. “Well yeah, he was my second but although it wasn’t that big he knew how to use it. Ahahahaha!” I wheezed hard, goofing around with dirty jokes was hilarious.

Although she’s the youngest of our friend group, she’s still the funniest and always manages to make me laugh.

“Well gotta go, Li-Girlie. I need to catch my train. I got something important to take care of. Later.~” I said, hanging up as I headed downstairs, waiting patiently for my train. “So where exactly should I drop you off, Yoongi?” He looked over at him as Yoongi was staring out of the window, watching the raindrops fall. “Hnn… “Gangnam” Station, Baekhyun Hyung.” Baekhyun sighed, shaking his head. “You’re usually not in Gangnam, what’s your business there?” He hiccupped as his tongue clicked, “none of your business, Hyung. Just don’t mind it.” Some time had passed as I arrived at the Gangnam station. After exiting the station I opened my umbrella as it was raining heavily.

Damn. It’s really pouring down. I wonder how this dinner date will go… Is Wong really a different male colleague from the others… I was walking when I suddenly noticed a blonde-haired man with a black cap on walking, almost staggering in the rain. No way that’s him. What’s he doing here? Is he just going to yell at me again? The man sneezed as he kept walking fast in the direction of my apartment.

I sighed as I ran after him. “Yoongi what the hell?! What are you doing here…?” I asked, letting him under my umbrella. I was still very angry at him for that terrible morning. Our eyes met as I sighed. “Y/N… I’m sorry.” Yoongi acknowledged as he was shivering, “I came here to apologize to you.” I could tell he was serious about his apology, just by the look in his eyes.

“Come on, let’s get inside and talk. You must be freezing, you drunk idiot.” I let out a small laugh as we both walked inside the elevator. I entered after typing the password, “just stay in the hallway, I’ll get you a large towel to dry yourself.” I took my heels off and put them on the shoe rack. “Thanks for letting me inside.” He said as he hiccupped. I handed him a large towel as he dried himself. “Who dropped you off here? Was it one of the members?” I asked, heating the water as I grabbed two packs of Korean noodles. “It was my Hyung. I asked him to pick me up and drop me off here.” He sat on the stool as he looked at me.

“I know I shouldn’t be here. But I want to apologize for what I did and said earlier. That was quite harsh and I hurt you.” Yoongi’s voice was full of honesty and guilt, I was watching his expression closely as I nodded, rubbing my arm. “I mean my relationship is my relationship. That’s why I didn’t like you stepping into it and speaking as if you knew everything. Although you’re probably right about Daniel Jones and me. Maybe I really shouldn’t wait for him any longer.” I cupped my face, turning around as I added the noodles into the boiling water and added the sauce. Suddenly I felt his arms around my stomach giving me a back hug. “Yoongi, I’m cooking… You know.” He hummed, “I don’t care. You know maybe it’s time for you to move on, break up with him, Y/N.” He rested his chin on my shoulder as he pecked my cheek. I moved the saucepan away from the heat and turned around. He tilted his head in confusion as I leaned in, placing my hands on his shoulder, and pulled him into a deep kiss.

“Mmh…” He hummed, placing his hands on my back, his hands running up and down as I slowly pulled back. “For someone who isn’t my boyfriend… You sure talk a lot.” He ran his tongue in his mouth as he scoffed offendedly. “But I kinda like that about you. And I always have.” I leaned in pulling him by the tie, giving him a deep kiss. “God, you're a really fierce and wild woman. I like that about you.” He rubbed his bottom lip as his tongue clicked and I crossed my arms sassily, “come on let’s eat, Suga.” I poured over the noodles into the bowls and grabbed 2 pairs of chopsticks. We ate and watched some TV after some time had passed.

“Well, I have a meeting with this new colleague of mine, I think it’s best if we both leave at the same time?” I asked, letting my hair down as I was looking at myself in the mirror. “Hmm, you don’t want me to stay here in this apartment until you get back?” Yoongi asked cunningly as he looked at me. “Well, don’t you have some business or paperwork you need to check on, Mafia leader?” I scoffed, applying on red lipstick as I pursed my lips and fixed my black tight dress. “For a meeting, you’re dressed quite incredibly, is your colleague perhaps a male?” He asked, looking at me curiously as he waited for my response.

“I just want to look good, is that a problem, Boss?” I replied sassily, having my hands on my hips. “Not at all, just be careful, Y/N. That color on your lips,” he walked in front of me as he ran his thumb on my chin, “...might give him the wrong idea.” I smacked his hand away as I frowned, crossing my arms. “Yoongi I know what I’m doing. I’m not naive, alright?” He had his usual careless expression as his tongue poked his cheek. “Alright, I believe you. Just be careful with the alcohol and have a nice evening.” He chuckled as he smiled warmly at me, I nodded. “Well is someone going to pick you or do you take the subway?” I put on my beige coat as I stood in the hallway, putting on my heels, “yeah Jimin will pick me up in a few minutes.” He put on his shoes as he looked at me. “Okay let’s go then.” I grabbed my bag as I waited outside my door as we both headed down.

“Here.” Yoongi looked at me as I stood in front of the stairs leading down to the subway, “what’s this for?” He asked when I opened the umbrella as I placed it in his hand. “So you won’t get cold in the rain. I’ll go ahead, make sure to stay warm.” I hugged him as I noticed the black Hyundai slowly approaching and I let go of him. “Take care, Y/N, and thanks.” I waited in front of the “Gwanak-Gu Office” station, checking the time it was 6:50 PM as I looked around.

“Good evening, Ms. Meílíng. My apologies if I kept you waiting.” Mr. Wong appeared as he let out his hand as I shook it. “You didn’t keep me waiting, I just arrived here.” My lips formed a little smile as I saw he was dressed nicely. He opened his umbrella and pointed at the restaurant, “come on. Shall we go Ms. Meílíng?” I nodded as I went under his umbrella and followed his lead to the fancy restaurant. “Wow, this is a nice restaurant, Mr. Wong.” I looked around as I noticed the amazing decor and the atmosphere as he pulled the chair out for me. “Glad you like it here,” I sat down as I bowed. “Anyway feel free to order anything you like Ms. Meílíng.

This Italian restaurant is known for its organic and most authentic food.” I thanked him, smiling sweetly. “So are there any questions you have related to work, Mr. Wong?” I asked, waiting for his response. He thought for a few seconds as he chuckled. “Well yes, are you by any chance Chinese? I’m originally from Macau.” My eyes scanned over him as his pretty face, “oh that’s interesting, Mr. Wong. I think I’ll order the Margherita pizza and some garlic bread along with a soda. “Well, Actually, yes I’m half Chinese. My mother’s Chinese and my father’s Korean.” I explained as he nodded, listening to me.

“Wow, half Chinese and half Korean that’s an interesting combination. I think I’ll order the lasagna and a glass of wine.”

I felt a weird feeling within my heart. But it was probably just me being paranoid.

After an hour of endless talking and enjoying the delicious food, also while consuming a bit of wine. “Wow, I’ve never met such an intelligent and respectful man like you, Mr. Wong.” He smiled as he looked deeply into my eyes, “same goes to you Ms. Y/N. I really can’t wait to work with you in the future.” I laughed as I was a bit tipsy, my phone getting spammed with notifications. “If you’ll excuse me, I just need to use the bathroom, Wong, hehe.” I left my phone on the table as I walked over and quickly looked at myself in the bathroom mirror as I laughed,

“holy shit. I didn’t notice my chest was so visible…” I pulled the straps of my dress up over my shoulder blades. I returned as Wong smiled, “everything okay Ms. Y/N? I’ve ordered you a glass of water.” I laughed as I sat down and drank the water, “everything’s just fine, just like you are Prince~” I said, poking his nose as I drunk flirted with him. He took a hold of my hand and kissed it. “Well, how nice of you, in that case, you’re a Princess, Y/N. It shall be my duty to follow you home. I’ve already paid for both of us, let’s go.” I mumbled a yes as I stood up, grabbing my purse and phone.

“Thank you, Prince Eric…” We both walked out as it was still pouring out heavily. Wong opened his large umbrella as I stood under it, “stay close to me alright, Y/N?” He wrapped my arm around his shoulder as our eyes met. My heart skipped a beat as I simply nodded. “It’s 11:12 PM, which station do you get off at?” I mumbled Gangnam as he nodded, waving at a cab. We both got in as he took care of the explaining.

“Sorry for being so troublesome, Wong. I shouldn’t have consumed wine when my alcohol tolerance is so low.” I rested my head on his shoulder as he looked at me, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it, we all have our limits. We’re almost there and I want to thank you for tonight.” A couple of minutes had passed as the cab pulled up to the station that I recognized. “We’re here,” the driver said as Wong paid for the ride. We got out as we both bowed to the driver, thanking him as he drove away.

“Looks like it’s still raining a bit, let me walk you to your apartment.” We walked as I held his hand, “thanks for paying for the dinner and the cab ride. I owe you one, Wong. I had a great time with you” I stood in front of the apartment building. “Well, don’t think about owing me anything. It was a pleasure for me too, Y/N. I hope we’ll work great together at SNU.” I bowed respectfully as he waved and left. “Y/N, if there’s ever anything you need just give me a call.” My eyes widened as I nodded, typing the apartment’s password as I entered, I used the elevator as I noticed a man in a black leather jacket, holding a red umbrella. When he suddenly turned around, lowering his hoodie.

“Yoongi what are you doing here?–” Yoongi wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to his chest as I could hear his rapid heartbeat. “Where have you been? I was really worried that something might’ve happened to you. Considering you didn’t answer my calls or texts.” He let go of me as I hiccupped and mumbled, “sorry I must've been busy. Let me just check my phone.” I typed the password as we entered my home, “that’s strange. Why is your phone on flight mode? You put it on purpose so I wouldn’t interrupt you, right?” He looked over my shoulder as his eyes changed drastically.

“What…? No. Yoongi, l didn’t put it on flight mode to purposely ignore you. I swear.” I turned around as I put my coat on the coat rack, holding his hand as he wasn’t looking at me. “You had me worried, Y/N. That meeting must’ve been more than just work-related, right? Hmmph. It explains why you’re so happy and tipsy.” I felt him getting on my nerves as I stomped the floor, “would you mind your own business and leave me alone? I don’t like you being here to scold me out, alright Boss?” I said, walking past him as I went inside my bedroom, smacking the door. “Such an asshole…” I pulled my dress over my head. I put on my XL hoodie and just wore some black panties, frowning.

I exited my bedroom as I noticed Yoongi putting on his shoes in the hallway. “I’ll be going back to the mansion. See you around.” I felt a sharp pain in my heart listening as his cold yet hurt voice spoke. “Yoongi… Wait.” I walked towards him as I gave him a tight back hug, squeezing him. “Can’t… can’t we just talk it out?” He scoffed as he moved my arms away as he faced me. “Talk out what exactly? That you intentionally put your phone on flight mode even though you were in a meeting? Y/N, I’m not dumb, that dinner meant more than just work-related business.” I looked down as I couldn’t bring myself to keep eye contact.

“It wasn’t me, I swear I put my phone on silent mode. Not flight mode, I swear it wasn’t me. My phone must’ve made some technical error or something.” I hiccupped as I looked at him, waiting for his response. His fists were clenched then he let go of them, he exhaled as he put his hands on my shoulders. “I believe you. I’m sorry I doubted you. I must admit, my lack of communication isn’t very helpful either. Is it alright if I stay here right with you?” I nodded, as I looked at him. “Sure but aren’t the other members worried about your whereabouts?” I asked as he smiled, “no worries. I’ve notified Jimin about it. You still seem quite drunk, what did you drink?” I laughed as I felt my head get dizzy and then I fell into Yoongi’s chest as he caught me.

It was black all of a sudden as I opened my eyes again, I was lying on my couch with Yoongi’s black leather jacket on my legs as I rubbed my head. “Good. You’re finally awake, how are you feeling?” He asked, handing me a glass of water as I immediately drank off it. “You know, I’m having a quite brutal headache, usually when I get drunk it’s normal but this one really made me lose consciousness.” I constated, rubbing my head as he looked at me and pulled me into his arms. “Y/N, do you remember what kind of wine or liquor you drank?” I cuddled into his chest, mumbling, “no I don’t. I just remember Mr. Wong just recommended it to me. But maybe it was a strong Italian wine considering it was an authentic Italian restaurant.” I added, looking up as he stroked my back. “Just be careful with drinking. After all, your alcohol tolerance is quite low, heh.” I checked my phone as I turned off the flight mode when the notifications came popping in.

Min Suga (Yoongi)

09:01 PM: “Hey, I’m on my way to return your red umbrella from earlier.”

09:01 PM: “Do you want me to pick you up once you’ve finished your meeting?”

3 missed call(s) from Min Suga (Yoongi)

10:55 PM: “Why aren’t you picking up, are you alright?”

11:15 PM: “I’m near your apartment.”

11:30 PM: “Just… tell me you’re alright so I don’t have to worry.”

I felt myself switch from talking casually to formally as I realized Yoongi was still my leader. “Shit, I’m sorry for making you concerned, Sir Suga–” He embraced me while looking deeply into my dark brown eyes, “–call me by real name when it’s just the two of us, Y/N.” I gasped as my hands rested on his chest, “come on I want you to call me by my real name.”

I fluttered my eyes as I spoke, “Yoongi… Sorry for being so troublesome.” Yoongi flashed his well-known smirk as he pecked my lips as I wrapped my hands around his neck, deepening the kiss. “You’re not troublesome, Y/N. I guess my lack of trusting people is an issue here. I always fear that someone might cross paths with you and trick you, but that fierce and wise attitude of yours isn’t something to mess with.” Hearing his compliments. They made me happy, naturally forming my dimples.

“Thank you, Yoongi. I should probably head to bed, it’s late.” I rubbed his shoulder as I cuddled his nose, I stood up as I kissed his forehead good night. “Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep tight.” I walked into my bedroom as I stood in the doorway, “why don’t you sleep with me in my bedroom tonight?” I turned around, waiting for his response. “Are you sure this is okay with you? I’m afraid I might do something while I’m sleeping.” Yoongi stated as he faced me as I pulled the blanket over us, “of course, besides I feel safer with you this close to me.” I confessed as I gave him a quick kiss as he scoffed with his gummy smile. “Alright, sweet dreams Y/N.”

We fell asleep as many hours had passed, I woke up to the sound of something cooking in the kitchen. Naturally, I followed the lovely smell as I saw Yoongi wearing an apron as he was frying some sunny side eggs.

“Good morning, Y/N.” He said, looking back as he smiled, “morning Yoongi.” I said, wrapping my arms around his stomach, hugging him. “It smells nice, I didn’t know you could cook.” He scoffed, placing the eggs on a plate. “Well. I do, I just don’t make food on the regular. While you were sleeping, I went over to the nearby bakery and supermarket to buy some bread and fresh fruits.”

I sat on the counter, observing him as I smiled. “Wow, Yoongi you’re so incredible, unlike Daniel.” He smirked as turned around, placing his hands on the counter as he looked into my eyes. “Well, cooking isn’t the only thing I’m incredible at.” Yoongi leaned in as he kissed me deeply and passionately, I ran my hands up and down his back. I hummed as he smirked into the kiss as I pulled back, “gosh Yoongi you’re such a big tease.~ Come on let’s eat. It’s already 08:35 AM, my class starts at 2 PM.” I said as I got down from the counter and I grabbed the plates, putting them on the table. He poured coffee into a mug as he looked at me, “how do you like your coffee?” I smiled as I ate a piece of bread with the egg on top.

“With a dash of milk and two teaspoons of sugar.” He nodded, handing me my cup of coffee as I took a sip of it. “After breakfast… I thought we could look at the hacking program together, Y/N?” I hummed, enjoying the food as he ate too. “Sorry… Mmmh! It’s just I was really hungry, you’ve cooked the eggs to perfection. And the fresh fruits you’ve picked are incredibly sweet! But yes we can look at it.” Yoongi chuckled as his gummy smile was showing off, “well relax it’s just a simple breakfast, Y/N.” After finishing breakfast, I turned on my laptop as I stood in front of my bedroom door. “Let me just take a quick shower then you can teach me some tips and tricks?” I said, putting a towel on my right shoulder. “Mmh-hmm.” He said, licking his lips as he checked his Rolex watch. “Want me to join you, Y/N?” I gasped as I walked past him. “In your dreams Min Yoongi,” I said, entering the bathroom as I turned on the shower.

God. He’s such a tease. But I like that.

“So I’ve spoken with Jungkook. He told me you got the basic tricks down. However, I have a mission tonight where we need to hack something, regarding a digital lock.” I raised an eyebrow, thinking about what he just said. “I need to hack a digital lock? How the fuck do I do that?” I looked at the hacking program I had installed yesterday, “I’ll show you. Follow me.” Yoongi said, holding my hand as he walked outside and I followed naturally. “What are you going to do? Or rather what are you trying to do?” I asked, observing Yoongi running the app on his phone. “I’m showing you how to hack a digital lock. Since you’re familiar with the app already, you want to hold out your phone near your target; the digital lock. Your password is 301993 right?” I nodded, indicating my answer.

“So are you going to hack my digital lock now?” I gave him a serious yet concerned stare as he nodded, “I’ll just demonstrate it. Don’t worry too much. Now you want to enter the password backward on the app. So it’ll sound like 39, just give it 15 seconds to adjust the coding. And now just press the ‘login’ button.” I was confused by the movements happening on his phone but I went to type in my password as it declined.

“So now that must mean… the new ‘key’ is 794080, right?” I scoffed as I looked at Yoongi, “correct. You’re an excellent observer, Y/N.” I typed in the new password as it opened, “well how do I revert it now? I might forget ‘794080’ as the new password…” Yoongi scoffed as he handed me his phone, the app still running. “You just click at ‘password setting’ then scroll down to ‘saved passwords’. So far I’ve two saved ones, the one named ‘password 1’ is the original and the correct password.” I nodded, following Yoongi’s directions as I returned the digital lock to normal.

“Wow that’s incredible, you’re a great hacker, Yoongi.” I told him, re-entering my home as he followed me as I stood in the hallway, “there is other stuff I’m great at too, Y/N~” Yoongi smirked as he pinned my arms above my head to the nearest wall.

“Yoongi.” I said as I felt him kiss me passionately as I scoffed, “do you want me to stop?” Our eyes met as I blinked, shrugging.

I don’t want you to stop…

I cupped his cheeks as I leaned in. “I dunno… I kind of like when you’re so honest and straightforward when it’s just the two of us…” I fluttered my eyes, avoiding his dangerous gaze.

“Mmh? Tell me what’s on your mind, Y/N.” He tilted his head, I automatically locked eyes with him.

“But I don’t get it…” I said, feeling myself get frustrated. He raised an eyebrow in response.

Y/N. Just be honest with yourself. Min Yoongi is right in front of you.

“Get what?” He asked, his hand slowly caressing the side of my jawline.

“I don’t get why you like me?” There was a short moment of silence as he scoffed. That’s when Yoongi pressed his forehead against mine as he looked deeply into my eyes.

“Because you’re so hot and I want you.” I furrowed my eyebrows, his response pissed me off as I placed my hands on his chest pushing him and I was about to walk away.

“You’re a huge asshole, Min Yoongi.”

When he suddenly held me close to him as I looked at him confused and pissed off.

“I know I am but Y/N didn’t let me finish.” He had a sly smile as he said that.

“Tch.” I hissed crossing my arms as he leaned in.

“I’ve always crushed on you. Unlike other girls at our high school, you always stood up for others when they were being bullied or picked on. The strong, nonjudgemental, and fierce yet scary attitude yours intrigued me. One time I didn’t have enough money to buy myself lunch and you offered me half of your lunch. That kindness but the fiery personality of yours was enough for me to fall for you Y/N Lee Meílíng. That’s why I like you.” My eyes widened as I was left speechless by his confession.

I blinked a few times as my hands ran slowly on his chest up to his shoulders, pressing my lips against his. Meeting him with a soft, deep, and warm kiss as he wrapped his arms around me. “Mmh…” Yoongi hummed, smirking into the kiss.

“Oh, Min Yoongi. You have no idea how much I want to be with you. But we’re both so different and living two completely different lifestyles. You’re in the Mafia gang and while I’m just a teacher at a University. I don’t know if we’d be able to work out if our worlds would just collide…” He held both of my hands as he nodded, understanding the circumstances, “that might be true. We’re both so different but I just want you to think about it, I’ll gladly wait for your answer. Because I like you, Y/N.” Yoongi pecked my forehead as he went back to the living room, “well I’ll think about it, Yoongi.” I said, following him as I checked the time.

“Well it’s already 11:35 AM, I should get ready for work.” I put my black thick hair in a tight ponytail as I began applying some body lotion to my brown skin. I put on a simple grey blazer and a beige turtleneck underneath, some stockings, and a long white knee-length skirt. I walked out as Yoongi was reading the newspapers as he looked up for a second, admiring my outfit. “I was thinking we could go for some lunch near the campus?” I twirled my ponytail as I waited for his response. “Sure let’s do that, supermodel.” He coughed, trying to hide his smirk as he got up.

“I’m not a supermodel, idiot,” I said, pulling his sleeve. “Well I should head back to the mansion to change and see the others, a member is picking me up. Do you wanna tag along?” I rolled my eyes, “fine, who’s the member?” I asked, putting on my beige high heels. “It’s Park Jimin.” He chuckled, wearing his shoes. “Why did you ask? You’re not fond of him?” I shook my head as I walked out, holding the door. “It’s not that… I’m just not very fond of your flirty member Taehyung. I guess Jungkook or Jimin is alright.” We went down with the elevator as we walked up to the street to see the black Hyundai pulling up.

“Well if it isn’t Boss Suga and Ms. Y/N. How are you two?” Jimin said, opening the window as he waved. Yoongi sat next to him as I sat in the back seat, “It’s been alright, how have you been? Any news on how the meeting with the GOT7 went?” I asked as Yoongi scoffed, “well a certain someone was missing your presence.” Jimin said, smiling and he made a left turn.

“Mr. Wang was rather curious as to where you were yesterday.” Yoongi looked out the window as he ran his tongue at his teeth. “Really? I thought I wasn’t that memorable to the GOT7, I mean I’m not that terrific besides I had a work-related dinner with a new colleague of mine.” I answered as I kept looking at the mirror, hoping to get eye contact with Yoongi’s eyes. But his eyes were focusing on what was happening in the other lane. “Was it something important, if so I’d like to be informed about that Mr. Park Jimin.” He pulled up to the mansion, parking the car as Yoongi was texting someone.

“I’m sure Boss will keep you updated. After all, I wasn’t present either.” Jimin confessed, chuckling as he opened my door and I got out. “Y/N meet me in the office in 5 minutes, I’ll have to talk to someone real quick,” Yoongi said, walking inside as he went upstairs. “Yes, Sir Suga,” I said, entering and bowing as I caught Jimin having a rather mischievous smile on his face. “What’s with you and that smile, Park?” I asked, crossing my arms as I sat down on the couch.

“So I’m guessing Boss slept at your place, hmm? That’s why he’s more quiet than usual.” Taehyung went by as he grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator as he smirked, “oh so Boss slept in Kitten’s bed, huh?” I glared at him as I got up, keeping my hands on my hips. “If I hear another word from you Tae, I’ll seriously slap you.” Yoongi came downstairs, staring at TaeTae. “Y/N to the office. And Tae quit flirting with her or I’m throwing your newly ordered Gucci clothes out.” I nodded, heading upstairs as I cackled at his jaw drop by Yoongi’s threat.

“Well. Take a seat on the chair, Y/N.” He said, closing the door as I bowed my head, sitting down. “So it’s regarding the Blood Vessel Gang, I see…” I looked through the papers and the plan he came up with and I was rather fascinated. “So the GOT7 is going to act as a backup for the next mission, that’s a quite clever move,” Yoongi smirked, looking at me as I leaned in. “Is this a clever move too?” He asked, kissing me softly on the lips as I laughed a bit, cupping his cheeks. “Mmh, I don’t know. Why don’t you kiss me again?” I asked daringly as the door opened as I was playing with his tie.

It was Jungkook. “Hyung– I mean Boss. We got a confirmed deal with the GOT7 Gang, it’ll be on 13th May at midnight.” Yoongi’s Adam's apple bopped as he sighed, fixing his tie. “Got it. Thanks for the information, Jungkook.” He bowed, glancing at me as if I did something wrong. “See you around, Noona.” He closed the door as he left. “Well, so um on that mission what is my role exactly? Am I going to hack something or seduce again?” I asked crossing my legs as he looked and thought for a second. “I think we’ll need you to hack something. But I’ll send you the information later.”

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#Yoongi Fanfic: The Taste of Red Wine #Min Yoon Gi #Min Yoongi #BTS #Bangtan Seonyandan #Jeon Jungkook #Hendery #Way V #Wong Kunhang #Huang Guanheng #Kim Taehyung #Park Jimin #Jackson Wang #GOT7 #K-pop #K-pop Fanfics #Yoongi x Reader #Yoongi x Y/N #Suga x Reader

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onyourzeus · 3 years

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• with you | kwp

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: with you pairing: kim wonpil (of day6) & you genre: flufffffff words: 2.9k

author’s note: requested by this anon asking for a lazy day with wonpil + some possibility of a food fight due to baking (i tweaked it a little bit, i hope you don’t mind)

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

lazy days with wonpil are the best. it doesn’t happen often, though, because he rarely gets to spend this much time with you

you’ve been relying on voice messages, long texts and the occasional video calls before and during their subunit comeback promotions

granted you were super excited and absolutely stunned by their performances

not to mention the songs in the album are amazing, you have always been supportive of wonpil’s career

ever since you’ve known him, music has always been his top priority. he’s taught you so much of what he’s learned throughout the years being a trainee and a musician in his own right

albeit you doubt you’d ever reach his level of proficiency when it came to understanding music

you’re content just watching him sing, admiring the way he plays the piano so effortlessly, and being so damn lucky to be part of this important journey with him

but of course, it pains you to be so far away, long distance never gets better no matter what they say

as much as you follow along his schedules as a day6 member, you’d be lying to yourself if you said the end of promotions is your actual favorite part of it all

it means that wonpil has some free time to spare, and usually he likes to spend it with you

this weekend, you knew he didn’t have a lot on his agenda. you’ve specifically cleared the whole two days, logged off on all social media just so your attention can be focused solely on your significant other

you’ve been giddy all morning, waiting for wonpil to arrive at your place in mere minutes

when the two of you haven’t seen each other in a while, wonpil personally likes to have you all to himself in a space where no one can bother the two of you. this is why he doesn’t like you going over to their apartment

dowoon doesn’t have a sense of personal space or can he take a hint that wonpil doesn’t want anyone coming into the room when he’s just snuggling with you

so it’s a win win situation overall to have him in your place instead. the clothes he had left in the bottom drawer hasn’t been worn in a while by him.

(you’re afraid his scent would come off soon if you keep wearing his sweaters and pjs)

you hear the knock on the door and excitedly dash for it, seeing wonpil in the flesh with…

flowers!!

“hi,” he greets you shyly, the smile on his face neverending, only growing wider as you try your best to embrace him without squishing the gift he has in hand

“i missed you sooooooooo much,” you squeal, immersing yourself in the warmth of his body and his hand pressing against your back

it feels like forever since you last saw him, so you want to hug him just as long

“babe, babe— okay, baby, i can’t breathe!!” he laughs, jokingly coughing as he wiggles his way out of your death grasp. you’re not apologetic, only pouting while sliding your fingers in between his free hands

“do you want to invite me in?” he asks, the sass in his voice unavoidable and you’d like to slap it out of him

but this is what you missed, so you tugged at his hands and welcomed him in your apartment

“are these for me??” he hands you over the bouquet, recognizing instantly the camellia flowers delicately arranged. he doesn’t answer, only letting his pressed lips resisting its way to a smile tell you how it is

“thank you,” you say to him anyway, reluctant but giving in to what you’ve always wanted to do for so long.

you kiss his cheek, and it feels all so familiar but new at the same time

he gasps for a moment, brows raised up as if in mock offense but steals a quick kiss on your lips before you can question his silly antics

“thought you could get away with that huh”

and this is what you truly missed being with wonpil, side by side. the way he sheds off that introverted persona online and really ease into his comfortable ways with you. he’s full of love, of course, but there are times when he is subtly teasing with you as a form of affection

you place the camellias in an empty vase you find inside a cabinet. the two of you didn’t necessarily plan out what to do for the day, and that’s usually the case when he spends his free time here

“i just want to be in bed and… cuddle,” wonpil would confess, winning you over with his doe eyes. nine times out of ten, it works

but today you want to talk with him, catch up on what you’ve missed while he was busy with performing and going on variety shows. and wonpil complies because even though he loves just being lazy with you, having his arms enclosing your figure and dozing off that way

one thing he loves to do is also talk. and there’s so much to talk about!

you share the couch with him, and wonpil instinctively opens up his arms so he can wrap them around your waist

he puts up his legs on the coffee table, and waits for you to say something

“oh? this is allowed now?” he perks up and you turn your head to look at him, tongue darting out in response

“just because i need your scent to be in every corner of this place as much as possible”

“that’s…. a little gross, babe”

sue you for missing him that much!!!

but that didn’t really bother you, in fact you lift your own legs up to rest on his. as you guys find a comfortable lying position, finally you ask wonpil how he has been doing

you’ve probably already heard most of his stories through his messages and voice calls beforehand

but nothing beats listening to wonpil talk in person, and to watch him do it with your own very eyes

it’s something special that you want to keep for yourself, you understand that wonpil has to connect to his fans too. he goes on vlives, writes instagram posts directly addressing mydays, and just overall be relatable to them

and… it gets to you a little bit, not gonna lie. there’s so much of him that he gives to others, yet he doesn’t see it that way

you’re sometimes afraid that he’ll be seen as too fragile and be an easy target to break

but over the years you’ve known wonpil, you have only seen him get stronger. be more thick skinned, and it’s an admiring feat

“were you even listening to what i said?”

“about dowoon overreaching his leader status even after promos? yep, sounds like him”

wonpil looks utterly surprised, and you return his expression with a more menacing version

he bursts into laughter right at your face, and if you didn’t enjoy him tightening his grasp around you, you’d shove him off on the floor

“wonpil why do u keep laughing at me!!”

“you just have that face”

wow what a way to compliment your s/o thanks buddy”

“hey now,” he lets out the last few chuckles bubbling in his system, releases one arm around you to poke your nose with his finger. “thats the kind of face i love for a partner”

“well then consider yourself lucky,” you pout, and wonpil’s eyes shine even brighter

“i am.”

there isn’t a lot more that happens that day, you guys really took “lazying around” in its most literal form

since the couch is a pull out, wonpil helped you with setting it up and placing bedsheets on it while you grab the blanket from your room

he suggests if he can take a nap for an hour or two which resulted to a cuddling session before you both dozed off

the curtains on the windows to the side of the living room were drawn out, so the late afternoon sun found its way to the inside of your place

it was warm, it hit your cheek when you turned over so you decided to just lay in bed facing wonpil

when you’d be in and out of sleep, you see your boyfriend’s peaceful face just a kiss away from you

and so you do just that… kiss his lips softly as to not disturb him… you take it upon yourself to take in his features slowly while you can and

it’s such a sight to behold

nevermind the dark shadows forming underneath his eyes or the subtle stress lines on his forehead

you make it a point to do a self care skincare routine with him tonight. he’d enjoy the new volcanic mask you bought to try out

but setting that aside, wonpil is still so beautiful to you. you understand, out of all people, how so many have fallen for him too

hips lips that produce one of the most hauntingly elegant voices you’ve heard, his cheeks that paints a blushing rose when he’s being effortlessly cute, his eyes that glimmer whenever he’s having fun

however right now he has them closed, relaxed, as his chest breaths in and breathes out

you snuggle even closer to him, putting your cheek up against where his heart should lay, and listen to the beat of his heart

you feel your own pounding in the still of the apartment, only a faint bustling hum of reality outside your window

and as the sun shines on wonpil’s face this time, he slowly wakes up and you will yourself not too look

as you feel him shuffle while repositioning his arms that have encircled you all this time

“you awake?” he asks groggily, his sleepy hoarse voice sending you shivers down your spine

you can’t help but smile silly against his clothes

“mmm” is your response

“psst” he whispers in your ear, caressing the sides of your hair in a lulling manner

before you get too comfortable with his affection, you slowly pull yourself away and look at him

and you can never get used to it, to him

“i really, really missed you,” he mouths, almost inaudible, but you know it in your heart

suffice to say the two of you didn’t get up right away

now that it’s nearing sunset, you ask if he wants to get dinner or cook at home

“what if we bake”

“oh,” that wasn’t really in your mind, but why not? this means you get to spend more time with him, and it’s a great bonding experience. the two of you rarely do this sort of thing. sometimes he’s ask to cook for you, only to phone his mom during the whole process to help out

in the end of that conversation, though, wonpil would approach you if you were in the room or hanging out on the couch, attack you with those puppy dog eyes of him

“eomma hung up on me. says i should already know how to make stew without her help”

“do you need my help then, wonpil?”

“yes pls “ :c

so with baking, it’s perfect, because you guys can tag team

you settle on making brownies, craving some chocolate for tonight. you pull up a recipe on your ipad for reference

“babe where’s the butter,” wonpil asks behind you, rummaging his way through your fridge

“on the side, next to the cheese,” you tell him as you focus on reading through the ingredients

“... where’s the cheese”

“top shelf, wonpil,” you laugh, turning to see him struggling with messing around the many jars and miscellaneous stuff you have in your fridge

“ah, this needs to be more organized baby,” wonpil chastises you, finally finding what he was looking for

“sorry,” you sheepishly grin, but help him with the remaining ingredients

now that you have everything laid out, baking with him is.. a wild ride

you thought the cooperation between you would fall into a field of familiarity, but wonpil’s eagerness to do everything and have you just be sort of his “assistant” is bugging you a bit

“i can mix this in—”

“no no no, i got it. you’ll see, i got this”

“but wonpil—”

“no no no,” he repeats, holding onto an egg as he shakes his head at you

“see this? it’ll get cracked with one hand, just you wait” the smug expression on him just looks to adorable not to react to, but you know if you say something he’ll take it in a different manner. you keep your mouth shut and let him do his thing

he takes a second, three, five seconds before finally cracking the egg on the edge of the bowl

and spilling it all over the counter before he got the chance to put it all in

that’s your cue to laugh as wonpil stands there to take in the shame

and walk it off by washing his hands and wiping the mess

you didn’t mean to be so loud about his mistake, but you see wonpil blushing hard with his arms crossed

and you just know you crossed the line

“wonpiriiiii” you whine, trying to take his hands in yours. he won’t budge, not even looking your way

“it was an accident, you can just crack it with a fork or something” he relents as you sway your arms side to side, an attempt to calm him down and reassure him it’s nothing serious

and you actually love him more

“yeah but i wanted to impress you”

if only you knew wonpil

“you impress me every day just knowing you’re with me,” you tell him, and the cheesiness sends him gagging mockingly

the two of you would continue clowning each other while preparing the brownie mixture

taking turns with cracking the eggs, even at one point having a seriously uncalled for juggling competition with two eggs

that you immediately stop once you realize you don’t have back up eggs if this fails badly

at one point the brownie mixture has finally been combined, and you’re about to ask wonpil for the tray when you see him dip his finger in the bowl and pop it in his mouth

“mmm,” he reacts, before slowly reaching in to take another dip

“DUDE DON’T DOUBLE DIP” too late, he had already contaminated the bowl and was on his way to smear chocolate on your cheek

you didn’t even have time to speak his death sentence

the deed has been done, the cheek has been smeared as your nose sniff at the chocolatey smell on your face

“oh it’s on, wonpil”

“no it’s not,” he counters, and he’s already laughing with his pointer finger still up in the air, remnants of chocolate still coating around the skin

you want to approach it the same way he did, but you needed to go big

bringing the whisk filled with a gooey chocolate mess, you lift it up and take a slow, careful step towards wonpil

his laughter died down and is followed by a gulp down his throat

“you won’t dare, baby. i love you, i love you so much—”

“your words mean nothing right now, pil,” you say as sweetly as you can, comically licking some of the mixture that has traveled down the side of your lips. wonpil stared at your tongue, confused at his emotions right now

should he be turned on? threatened?

he doesn’t get another second to think as you basically paint the whole side of his cheek with chocolate

“i feel better now” you say in between your own fits of laughter, pointing the whisk at wonpil’s sorry face as he just stands there

taking in what just happened

so yeah, y’all don’t get to bake what’s left of the brownie mixture until… after so much of it has ruined your clothes, and the kitchen counter

fortunately, as the poorly spread out brownie mixture bakes in the oven, you and wonpil get to

share a bath together :)

maybe it was his plan all along because the smirk on his face doesn’t leave at all while you wash each other up

bath foam on his hair, on your nose

soapy kisses, the works

you’d indulge being skin to skin with wonpil this way, soaked in warm water with the smell of mint in the air from your body wash

you couldn’t take too long in the bath though as the brownies baked for a short period of time

“do you really choose brownies over me right now, babe? really?”

“wonpil the apartment will burn down if we don’t take them out of the oven”

…”

“okay point taken”

you finish up in the shower, put on your bathrobe and dry off your hands to hurry and take the tray out the oven

the brownies don’t look half-bad and evidence of the food fight you and wonpil didn’t even seem like it happened (courtesy to him voluntarily wiping everything down as you ran the bath quickly)

“so is this dinner?” wonpil asks, walking towards you with his matching robe around him

“how about some take out for now?” you suggest sheepishly, hunger calling out to you already

he agrees, and calls your favorite restaurant for some food

the two of you then spend the rest of the night eating rice from take out boxes and dumplings on the pull out sofa bed, never ending conversations of everything in life accompanying the hum of background tv noise

y’all even forget to eat the brownies as the dumplings and noodles had filled you up more than you thought

and that’s how you basically spent the first day he’s back with you, and the second is just the same

with more cuddling, sharing the shower, and enjoying every moment with him :) (less food fights though, he’s found out your sheer determination about such things… terrifying)

#day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #day6 x reader #day6 au #kim wonpil imagines #kim wonpil scenarios #kim wonpil x reader #day6 fic #dot series #by:jiae

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dontasktheradiodemon · 3 years

Text

Musical Tryouts (1/31/2021)

Please pretend I posted this chat log a month and a half ago when it actually happened, sob.

Valera @autokrates is leaving an audition for Hell’s first production of Hamilton, and runs into Alastor, waiting for his turn to audition. They hang out and chat until it’s his turn—which marks the first time in forever they’ve had a full conversation that wasn’t Incredibly Awkward the whole way through. Hooray for progress.

Chronologically, this chat log happened between this (note: art of extremely hilarious outfit) and this (note: art of another hilarious outfit)

Alastor

Alastor hasn’t auditioned for a show since the seventies, and hasn’t auditioned and *cared* about it in almost a century. He’d like to think he doesn’t look nervous, but he knows he’s reread his typewritten lyrics about a hundred times and every couple of minutes he catches his leg bouncing again. That’s fine, he’s in disguise, he isn’t supposed to look like himself anyway. He can look a little nervous.

When he realizes he’s more staring a hole through his pages than actually reading them, he forces himself to lift his head, slouches back in his cheap metal chair, and looks around the makeshift backstage waiting room. Maybe he can figure out if anyone else is trying for his parts, drag them into the back alley, and mangle them. It would defeat the purpose of showing up in disguise, but it would burn some nervous energy, and anyway he’s already seen one would-be Angelica pin another down and slit her throat. His gaze scans over the other hopeful actors.

Valera

From the stage comes the muffled sound of someone singing, as expected. But the singing gets louder as the voice approaches the door, and it certainly sounds like Not A Musical Number. It sounds a lot more like someone who needed to be accompanied by someone torturing a piano with a series of small hammers. Was that a Will Wood number? Why yes, yes it was!

Through the curtains and round the corner comes the fish supreme, bedecked in enough frills and frippery to lose an orphan in with their 18th century french fashion, belting out lines from I/Me/Myself as they saunter towards the exit with barely a glance for the other hopefuls waiting for their call. Barely a glance at all, until their eyes land on Alastor. Then their jaunty tune is cut off with an uncanny impression of a record scratch crossed with a chicken being strangled, head whipping around for a double take as they freeze mid stride. Holy fuck what was he WEARING???

Alastor

Alastor’s ears threatened to perk up beneath his temporarily shapeshifted hair at the sound of a very familiar and very beloved song from another performer—he’d almost considered performing that one himself, God was he lucky he’d decided to go with “Modern Major General”—and he turned to see who it was with the spectacular taste in music—

“Valera?!” What the hell was Valera doing at a musical audition in Hell?

Valera

It WAS Alastor! They KNEW it! They gasp, pointing at him as their eyes boggle. "Al--" And just as quickly, a hand is clapped over their own mouth, teeth clicking as they clamp their mouth shut. Okay, try that again, *without* ruining his disguise.

They stride over to where he's sitting, leaning in slightly before hissing. "What are you WEARING?"

Alastor

Alastor plays the sound of something crashing over when Valera starts to say his name—the other waiting performers look around to see which props just toppled over—and hops out of his seat to meet Valera in the middle when they approach him. “Do *not* expose me,” he hisses, flinging an arm around Valera’s shoulders. “Nobody here knows I’m the Radio Demon and if this is going to work, nobody *can* know.”

Then he looks down at his own outfit. “A disguise.” Obviously. “I asked my listeners, ‘What’s the last thing you’d ever expect me to wear?’”

Valera

Oh, great, he's touching them AND he's already mad at them for something they'd already avoided. This seemed like par for the course, might as well get through this as painlessly as possible. Valera's face tightens into a stiff little smile, stomach already twisting into knots. "I've got no plans of exposing you, it would be a shame to ruin the work you put into your... outfit."

A slow exhale from the nose, and they force their shoulders to relax. Can't have the other actors see the two of them at odds, they're clearly just a couple of friends running into each other! A funny coincidence! Their voice raises back to a normal speaking tone, all sunshine and cheer as they give Alastor a pat on the back that falls short of actually touching him. "I take it you're here to audition for a part, then?"

Alastor

Alastor wheezes a near-silent laugh. “Isn’t it hideous?” he whispers. “You should see what the full leggings look like, they’re horrible.”

He lets go and steps back. “I am! I was seized by a wild burst of inspiration, and auditions happened before that inspiration ran out. I take it you... *already* auditioned.” Which raises a whole slew of questions, but Alastor starts with the most important one: “Which part?”

Valera

Valera sends up a silent prayer of thanks to any God listening, hands folding behind their back as they admire Alastor's grotesque attire. "Unfortunately, I kind of love it. It's vile, but with a few tweaks it could be a genuinely good outfit."

They clear their throat at his latter question, rolling back on the heels of their new shoes. "Washington. I didn't come to Hell today expecting to audition for anything, I was just here buying shoes. But I heard music, saw the theater, decided to pop in and see what was going on. And hey, why not try out? Didn't expect to run into you of all people."

Alastor

A little tension drains out of his shoulders at the answer. He glances down to idly check out Valera’s new shoes. “Oh, good! I don’t have to duel you for a part.” He almost instinctively starts playing a snip from “Ten Duel Commandments” to underline the comment, but catches himself. He is, after all, trying not to blow his cover—he’s even consciously suppressing the radio distortion to his voice, he nearly sounds like a normal person. “The feeling’s *entirely* mutual. You’re about the last person I’d expect to try out for a show around here, so far from home!”

And he’s not sure how he feels about it yet. He’s been trying to avoid talking to Valera—can’t get in trouble after interacting with them if they *don’t* interact, can he?—and now here he is doing the opposite of that... but they haven’t started another stupid argument. Yet. “What are you doing if you actually get the part? You’re committing to being in Pentagram City on a near daily basis for—goodness, months at least!”

Valera

They don't know how they feel about seeing him here either. It went from being a fun little spur of the moment tryout before icecream into an UNEXPECTED INTERACTION with A PERSON THEY DON'T KNOW WELL. But no, they have to tamp down on the urge to make their excuses and leave, things would never improve between them if Valera did nothing but avoid him after all.

"IF I get the part! I haven't been in a production in years, I'm rusty compared to plenty of the actors here today, I'm sure." A hand waves, lazy and dismissive. "But if I do pull it off, I've been planning on spending more time in Hell anyway. This is just a convenient excuse."

Alastor

“Hah, I haven’t tried out for a show since—well, since before you were born.” And then, he’d just been doing it as a lark, too—something to attempt to keep his mind occupied. He hadn’t actually *wanted* to be in a production this badly since he lived in New York, before he gave up on making it on Broadway and went into radio. “But how many of *them* can launch into a full musical number at the drop of a hat!”

Valera

Right, it was easy to forget that Alastor was old enough to be their dad. Or Grandpa. Probably? They'd done the math at some point..

"Hatched." They correct on reflex, reaching up to fuss with the feather on their hat. "Who are you trying for? Lafayette? I could see you as a Lafayette." They're saying it because of the French, but they will NOT say that out loud.

Alastor

Great-grandpa, easily. Maybe even great-great grandpa if a few generations got early starts.

His face brightens. “Let’s hope the casting director thinks so, too! Yes, Lafayette and Jefferson—the same actor played them both in the mortal realm, why shouldn’t one person play both down here, too?”

Valera

Great-grandpa Alastor, the spryest old man in the nursing home. Eating the interns when he gets bored... That sounds like a typical older Veci actually.

They hum, looking Alastor up and down in his getup. "You'll get the part, or I'll eat this silly chapeu. I've seen the competition you're up against. They're good, don't get me wrong, but..." A vague gesture at him. "Nobody could compete!"

Alastor

"You flatter me!" All the same, he's beaming widely. "But I was hoping that would be the case, what with when they scheduled auditions. January's a bad time for, well, *most* people's schedules. I'm afraid I missed all but the tail end of your performance—spectacular choice of song, though!"

Valera

"Why thank you! Will Wood doesn't fit the show's theme in the slightest, but it certainly shows my singing chops! Though if I'd planned for this audition I might have gone with an outfit a bit less.. *French*." They grin, shimmying their enormous sleeves. Unrepentant in the slightest. "Might. I could see Washington's doughy self in this getup."

Alastor

Alastor examines Valera’s getup. Was that French? It just looked old-fashioned to him. “Well, hopefully they’re not going to judge based on fashion!” He glances pointedly down at his own outfit.

Valera

Another glance at his outfit, and they give a thumbs up. "You've got a bowtie on, you'll be fine."

Oh. Would it be a supportive friend thing to do to sit and wait for his call with him? Or would that be somehow rude? They couldn't just ask, if it *was* rude he'd probably be offended by the notion, but if it wasn't... Something bad. Probably? Maybe they're being unfair. A quick clearing of the throat, and they gesture towards the door. "Do you want to sit down? I've got time to kill before. Uh... *Mon Cerf Rouge* arrives with my ice cream."

Alastor

*Oh right*, he’s wearing *Valera’s husband’s* bow tie. His hand flies up to cover it as if that will prevent it from being identified, and he quickly forces his hand back down. “Well! I wasn’t going to show up to an audition underdressed, was I?” He laughs thinly. Don’t act suspicious it’s fine.

Is Valera hanging out with another Alastor? He wonders which one. How is it that every version of himself manages to get along with them but him? It wouldn’t be so galling if *none* of them could get along with Valera, but if it’s something he uniquely is doing wrong—no, don’t worry about that right now.

His first inclination is to turn down the offer, they’ve had a cordial conversation so far and he can’t mess it up if it ends right here; but there’s a chance they’re about to both end up in the same show, isn’t there? Polite avoidance might not be an option for long. Better get to work on getting along. “Sure! It’s a bit yet until my turn.”

Valera

What a reaction! They will politely pretend they didn't see him have a miniature panic over being seen wearing Pentious' bowtie. Far too busy inspecting their gloves, for some reason. How convenient.

Well, now they've done it, they're stuck here. Though it's surprising he accepted the offer, maybe it'll be okay? If he really wanted to avoid them he could have turned the offer down. They're probably overthinking it. A quick nod, and then they perch on the edge of a seat so their fuckoff huge tail can actually fit amidst the mounds of ruffles. On the plus side, nobody but Alastor was going to be taking the seats next to them anytime soon, unless they wanted to fight the tide of frills.

Time to.. Get along? Polite chit chat? "Is this the first production of Hamilton in Hell? It's a fairly new musical, and I know there's a bit of a delay getting things down here."

Alastor

“The very first! In fact, this production company is the one that got the first recording smuggled down from the living realm! Online there’s a few amateur recordings of recent arrivals singing the songs they remember, but so far that’s the only presence Hamilton has had in Hell. Anyone who gets in this show has an opportunity to *define* their roles in the eyes of the public.” Oh, he’s getting a little starry-eyed just thinking of it. “I suppose you’ve probably seen the original production in the mortal realm?”

Valera

"I did, though that was long before I met you or I'd have invited you along!" They're going to take the hat off, it's very silly and the feather keeps floating around in the corner of their vision. Plus, now they have something to hold in their hands so they can't start doing anything weird with them. Win win!

Alastor seems genuinely excited about this production, he'd gone through all the effort to get an outfit, come for tryouts.. And they just sauntered in on a whim. Thank the gods they weren't trying out for the same part, Valera would have had to bow out immediately. "I wonder if any of the actual founding fathers have survived long enough down here to see the show. Wouldn't *that* be something?"

Alastor

“Wouldn’t it just! I can’t think of *anything* I’d enjoy more than prancing around on stage making Jefferson look like an absolute damn fool while the real deal seethes in a front row seat!” He laughs. It’s not a terribly friendly laugh. “But I don’t know if any are down here. I don’t pay close attention to that sort of thing—and anyway, most *important* people who end up damned either find themselves on the receiving end of a deluge of assassination attempts or else change their identities fairly fast. A founding father could show up and audition to play as himself and we might not know.” A thoughtful pause. “Although I doubt any of them would get the part.”

Valera

"I'd assume they wound up here, considering the whole owning slaves and starting wars thing. Good PR post mortem doesn't absolve you of shitty behaviors in life, unfortunately." Yes. Very unfortunate. That's why they're grinning so toothily. "Imagine if we got the actual King George on the roster? Though I'd rather see Pentious try for the part, personally." There's no way George was still around, he'd gone batty enough in life that he'd probably wandered onto the nearest angelic spear first thing. But they could dream!

Alastor

“One would hope! But no one’s ever sent me the rule book on what does and doesn’t get you access upstairs, who knows for sure? I can tell you what I think *should* get you down here, but I can’t tell you with complete certainty whether or not it does.”

Oh, his eyes light up at that. “Just imagine him in the full raiment of a king! But no. Getting up on stage to have hundreds of people laugh at him for dressing and acting like royalty? He’d hate it.”

Valera

"He'd look glorious in a crown! But you're right, he'd never want a comic relief role, even if he WOULD get to sing about sending battalions after people." Alas and alack, King George ala Pentious would have to live in their dreams. But they smirk, leaning a fraction closer to Alastor to whisper. "But we might be able to get him to sing it privately, at least, and wouldn't that be lovely?"

Quickly pulling back, they cross one leg over the other and put on that cheerful grin again. "What do you think *should* qualify to send people to Hell, my fine fellow? It's a broad question, so we can skip it if you'd rather not open that can of worms."

Alastor

Wouldn’t it be lovely, indeed. He smiles uncomfortably and glances away.

“Oh, skip it.” He waves a hand vaguely. “I find the topic as sanctimonious as it is futile. It may not be for *you*, perhaps—for you, it’s little more than an interesting thought experiment on alien morality—but for us? What’s the good of debating why people should be damned when we’re *already* damned? It’s not going to help us get out of Hell. God isn’t going to take our suggestions into consideration. All the topic does is make one bitter that the powers that be don’t appear to be judging people to one’s personal moral standards—or else it inspires one to assume that God *is* operating in line with one’s personal understanding of justice, and try to pigeonhole everyone one meets into the crimes one believes are worthy of damnation. I’ve run into countless people down here who *don’t know why* they’re damned—and yet they *are* damned, which means they’ve done something that *is* damnable even if they themselves don’t believe it. If people can’t understand their own sins, how can they be trusted to judge anyone else’s?”

Valera

They lean back as Alastor skips one can of worms for another, watching him as he broke down his reasoning. It was interesting, insightful, even if they didn't have much to say to him in response. He was right, after all. For them it was an alien concept, a novelty to roll around and discard when they were bored, just like so many other human notions. But not everyone was so lucky. A nod of agreement, and they flick their tail.

"You're right. My apologies, Alastor, it's easy to forget how... fortunate I am, to be in the position I'm in." A side eye at the other actors, who PROBABLY couldn't hear the conversation, but even so. "Something lighter, then. Have you had a chance to work on restoring your deathday gift yet? You did a fine job with Alexander, he's as glossy as the day you *finished* him."

Alastor

“Oh, that’s just to be expected. How many people have a chance to measure their lives up against the dead and damned, anyway? We’re not given opportunities to interact with anyone but our fellow prisoners and our jailers, and that’s by design.” He’s occasionally side-eyeing the other actors himself, but none seem to be paying attention.

“Oh—yes! Cleaned out the guts and got off the worst of the grime of age. I need to get a few cleaning supplies to finish the job, but soon the both of them will be spick and span!” Look at him beaming, the proud father. “How *is* Alexander? I wanted to talk to him while visiting your place, but his time seemed to be monopolized by someone else the whole trip!” He really did feel bad about that. He feels like he’s got something a duty to Alexander, but so far he hasn’t been able to meet it.

Valera

This was a MUCH better topic. Radios and mutual friends, much safer. They let their shoulders relax under the jacket, chirping as their fins waggle. "I'm sure they'll be as good as new by the time you're done with them, mon collègue. You'll have to show me how they come out. A beautiful antique is always twice as radiant when restored with care, and those radios were gorgeous."

Ah.. Alexander. Their face twists, a frown tugging at the corners of their mouth. "Alexander is.. alright, I suppose. Nothing terrible has happened, and I've been trying to work with him on his manifestations with generally mixed to positive results." They shrug, sighing through their nose. "I think he misses other humans. Or former humans, I suppose. We get along well, but he'll see something and start talking about.. Ponzi? Or his mother writing to him from the" Airquotes here as they squint "Dust Bowl?" What the fuck is a dust bowl? They don't know, it sounds like something a chinchilla would roll in. "And he loses me completely."

Alastor

“I’ll have Vaggie take pictures some time.”

Alastor’s eyebrows shoot up. “That poor man got tangled up with Ponzi *and* the dust bowl? Goodness, what an unfortunate life he lived! But you’re right, he really needs more humans to talk to, doesn’t he? I’ll—“ A pause, and then he says thoughtfully, “I’ll see whether I can contact him myself. If not, I’ll let you know and we’ll arrange a play date. If it works, though—you’ll probably hear about it from him.”

Valera

Contact Alexander himself? Valera opens their mouth to ask how, then it clicks. Right, radio to radio transmissions. Could Alastor reach radios outside of Hell? Maybe it would be easier if the radio was haunted, a bit closer to the fuzzy boundaries between Heaven, Hell, and Earth. Or, Okkylk in this case. Hm.

"I'll take your word for it, I haven't got the foggiest about what either of those are. What the *devil* is a Ponzi?" They've heard "Ponzi Scheme" said in movies, but maybe it wasn't even the same Ponzi! Maybe Ponzi was a normal human thing. Like a brand, they do love their brands... "But thank you. I think he'd benefit from having more than one very alien being to talk to."

Alastor

“Charles Ponzi! A con artist! He convinced a whole slew of people to give him a mountain of money to invest in what he claimed was some post office money-making scheme and that he’d double their money in a month or two. Instead, he pocketed the money, convinced *another* slew of people to give him money for the same scheme, used that money to pay off the first wave of suckers—and rinse and repeated until he’d scammed thousands and stolen millions! Spent a few years in prison, got out and tried another scheme, got arrested in dear old New Orleans trying to flee the country! You knew you weren’t going to be bored any time he showed up in the papers!” Alastor loves a good con artist story. “The Dust Bowl, I missed myself—just a little bit after my time—but from my understanding it was a big drought in the middle of the States that dried out a bunch of farmland. Lot of farming families starved those years.” Alastor loves a good con artist, but starving people are just sad.

Valera

This Ponzi guy should have gone into politics, hot damn. Valera makes a low whistle, nodding their approval. "That DOES explain why he thought about Ponzi, we were talking about the weird political scams my predecessor left me on the hook for when I snuffed him out. Though I think that Charles there pulled it off with more flair than that bird brain ever could have. What a character! I've got to respect that kind of daring."

Probably best not to comment too much on the dust bowl, that sounds like a downer. But, they did bring it up, and if they're talking about Alexander.. "That does explain it. I believe his family was based in that middle area." A nod, and they immediately jump to something less negative. "Let him prattle on at you about his electronics store, he'd love it. The man talked my fins off for twenty minutes about something called a Perikon Detector a regular asked him to order and I STILL don't understand why he was so exasperated about it."

Alastor

“Oh, did he ever have flair! There’s a story I heard about when news of his scams started hitting the papers—all his investors swarmed his offices to demand their money back, he went around to them one by one offering coffee and donuts and smiles, and charmed them so well they *left* their money with him!” Alastor laughs.

Perikon Detector? Alastor stares off into space a moment, trying to dig the term out of nearly-century-old memories. “... Probably because Perikon Detectors were replaced by vacuum tubes before ninety percent of the nation ever even *heard* of radios. What the hell did someone want a Perikon Detector?”

Valera

They laugh, clapping their hands together. Charles Ponzi, was it? They'd have to look the fellow up later just to see the details of his escapades, maybe forward the information to a certain lawyer they knew. But for now, their potential costar has been oddly silent..

Alastor in a state of blank befuddlement was a rare treat, and one that Valera enjoyed while they could before he seemed to snap back into focus with his scrabbled knowledge in hand. "You'll have to ask him for specifics, but judging by the choice of insults, this person had a habit of asking for obscure, outdated parts rather frequently. Maybe a collector? Upcycler?" They shrug. "I still have no idea what a Perikon Detector IS. It sounds like a little bauble they'd use in a bad sci-fi show."

Alastor

“Well, it detects perikons, obviously!” He pauses. Dead silence. “Right, forgot I gave the laugh track the afternoon off. You at least know what vacuum tubes are, right? They, uh...” Has Alastor ever actually learned what it is, *exactly,* that vacuum tubes do. He knows how to use them. He knows how to tell which one he needs. He’s put them in radios. He’s *made* radios. But his eyes glaze over whenever he tries to learn what exactly it is the electricity *does* in there.

“Well,” he says confidently, “they control electrons, you see. You’re not getting very far in electronics if you can’t control electrons.” There’s a smattering of laughter. “Shut up, you’re all on break. Anyway, you’ve got vacuum tube radios and crystal radios—there’s a crystal in a Perikon Detector, see—and vacuum tube radios actually need some electricity to power them—which means you’ve got enough electricity to also power a speaker. Crystal radios are powered only by the very radio waves they pick up, but you’ve got to squeeze headphones against your face to hear it—so not very useful if you want to use a radio while doing anything but sitting in one spot very quietly with your hands over your ears. A Perikon Detector is just one brand name of crystal detectors that pick up radio waves.”

Valera

Alastor's initial joke is delivered, and Valera rather wished it hadn't been. In fact, they'd like to file a formal complaint with the verbal post office, they seem to have delivered an auditory assault instead of pleasantries. Silence reigns between them, oppressive and all consuming like an unjust monarch, three eyes staring silent judgement at the Radio Demon for his awful, terrible, no good dad joke levels of comedy. Jingle the bells on your little jester hat, old man-- Oh wait, he's talking again.

Valera stops squinting, rolling their eyes with a groan. He's still telling bad jokes. Those are only funny when YOU'RE the one telling them, the bastard. But they're going to completely gloss over his evil sense of humor and focus on the technical talk, and if there's a little upward twitch of their lips it's his imagination. Shut up. Dad jokes aren't funny. "Interesting! I'd never even heard of a crystal radio before, humans upgrade their technology so quickly that it makes the mind reel. One of their.. Your? Finer features."

Alastor

Alastor is goddamn hilarious and a gift to the microphone and the world is better for him and his humor having been in it, if we’re not counting those murders he did. “It *is* one of our more impressive parlor tricks! Although, truth be told, only one we picked up in the last century or so!” A pause. “Last *two* centuries. I keep forgetting the 1820s aren’t a hundred years ago. Anyway, we’ve really picked up the pace lately, relatively speaking! I once heard someone say—I don’t know how he knows, but I’m sure someone looked it up—that for several thousand years, the human *pelvis* evolved faster than the plowshare! And then all of the sudden, boom! Factories! Steel! Trains! Airships! Radio! How did people before the nineteenth century not bore themselves to death, I’ll never know.”

Valera

Valera cocks their head to the side, mind casting back. "From what I recall about sixteen hundreds France from my earliest visits, there was a lot of interpersonal drama and dying from preventable diseases to keep people busy. Much less interesting than the industrial revolution. Though the water was also a lot *cleaner* back then." A dissatisfied scoff. "Late eighteen hundreds London was a foul, foul place. Only went once and I had a cough for a week."

Alastor

"Oh, *that's* right! *Human drama!* Entertainment at its purest! I would have been an insufferable gossip, I'm sure." His smile broadens with satisfaction at figuring out what he would have done before radio.

Valera

"Oh don't sell yourself short, Alastor. I'm sure given the chance, you could be an insufferable gossip now, too!" They flutter their lashes dramatically, fanning themselves with their hat as they titter like a fine court damsel. Okay, enough of that. "They should be calling you soon, no?"

Alastor

“You flatter me! If more people shared gossip with me, I *would* be!”

Oh, right. He’s here for the first audition he’s cared about since dying. He sits up a little straighter, ears almost lifting out of his absurd disguise hair as he strains to listen to the current audition on stage. Sounds like it’s wrapping up. “Probably.” He looks down at his printed lyrics again and, predictably, forgets how to read.

Valera

Valera glances at Alastor's paper, humming as their hands rest on their hat. Was he *nervous*?

"Are you nervous?" Wait they said that out loud didn't they. Well, shit. Better commit. "What did you say you were doing again? The Major General's Song?"

Alastor

He's gonna ignore the hell out of that first question. "Yes, Modern Major General—and I learned a couple of songs from the show, more or less. I don't know what they're going to ask for. I figured at a minimum Modern Major General would show I can sing fast enough for the parts, if they don't want anyone to sing from the show."

Valera

If he'd actually answered the question, Valera would have probably accused him of being an imposter. Alastor wasn't known for admitting to his emotions unless you happened to be a Victorian steampunk snake, and even then. A sigh, and they lean back in their seat as much as their tail allows. "They let me sing Will Wood, so I think your selection should be perfectly sufficient. You even went with another musical theater song!"

Valera

Even then, he only just sort of failed to deny straightforward accusations. Kind of like what he just did. "I'm glad I didn't go with Will Wood," he mutters.

Yep, there's no more singing or talking from the stage, they're definitely wrapping up. Any second now.

Valera

It sounds like Alastor's turn is coming up, and good timing on that. They had no idea how to respond to his mutterings beyond pointing out that no casting director in Hell was likely to have heard of a semi obscure avant-garde jazz musician. Which might not even be accurate, maybe he was popular down here.

Out comes the phone, the ultimate distraction to ignore a potentially awkward silence. Better to end the talk on a positive-ish note, considering they're going to be seeing this garishly dressed man on the daily for possibly months. Sit next to one Alastor, text another, barely suppress snorts when the second gets confused about "phish food" being an ice cream flavor. As a fish does.

Alastor

The most recent actor comes backstage again, and another demon calls, “Next, uh... Lass?”

Alastor hops to his feet. “That’s me! That’s my name.” He turns to Valera. “Stage name. Drag name, usually, but as long as I’ve got the hair and the dress today—Anyway!” He claps a hand on Valera’s shoulder. “Tell me to break a leg!”

Valera

They glance up from their phone at the name call, sliding their eyes back down as Alastor hops up. Off he goes then? Maybe not, he's talking now, they should respond--

They make a very undignified BWAGH at the unexpected touch, hat flying off their lap as their whole body jumps. Then immediately pretends it didn't happen, clearing their throat noisily. What? No, they didn't just jump out of their scales. "Break a leg, Alastor."

Alastor

*Wheeze.* He doesn’t apologize but he *does* quickly take his hand back, which is probably as close as they’re gonna get from him. “Thanks!” He startled the hell out of someone and got a quick laugh out of it, that does something to steady his nerves. He folds up his lyrics, tucks them away god-only-knows-where, and strides out. Showtime!

Valera

Valera watches him go, shaking their head as they stand. Well, that's one radio demon out of their hair. Time to go willingly throw themselves at another one! The hat is plucked off the floor, and off they go. Not too shabby a day, not too shabby at all.

#chat log #autokrates

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