#no china is not holding lay hostage he is doing that himself

[poppinlovemp4]

exo is 9 truthers will just be sinophobic unprovoked likeoeiforjfkdhf just a little reflection might help

[fireinmoonshot]

SPIDER | BUCKY BARNES x READER | PART FOUR

CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE Summary: Bucky doesn’t know what to make of you when he meets you. You’re friends with Sharon, and you seem pretty easy to read on the surface. But the more time he spends with you, the more he seems to uncover, and the more he becomes tangled in the web you unwittingly weave. Pairing: female!Reader x Bucky Barnes Fandom: Marvel / The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Word Count: 2,769 Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER. A/N: Thank you all for the lovely response yet again! I really appreciate it. We're getting into Episode 4 now, so if you've not seen it yet make sure you don't read this chapter or you'll spoil yourself! Please let me know your thoughts, though. I really liked how this chapter turned out and I tried to make it so it didn't read like I was just writing the episode out word for word so I hope it's okay!

Zemo’s apartment was, at least, comfortable. As soon as you’d arrived Sam had settled in and gotten himself a drink and Zemo had excused himself to shower. You’d gone for a wander around the place, trying to get your bearings. It’d been a while since you’d been out of Madripoor and it felt a little like the ground had just been ripped up from underneath your feet. It was undoubtedly going to take some getting used to. Then, with what Bucky had said in the street. You were overthinking and you knew it, but he’d been right. You hated that he’d been right.

A change of clothes and freshening up in one of the bathrooms the place had done at least some of the job in helping you feel settled in, and by the time you re-enter the living room Bucky’s back, the Dora Milaje is after Zemo and the news that Karli bombed a GRC supply depot has broken.

You settle on one of the seats beside Sam with a glass of water and a heavy heart. Zemo is talking about how he personally believes Karli is a supremacist, but you can’t get your mind off of how three people had died and eleven more had been injured at the GRC supply depot bombing. You have a feeling that more people are going to end up dead if you don’t act soon, and fast.

“She will not stop,” Zemo says. “She will escalate until you kill her.”

You zone back into the conversation, taking a long sip of your drink.

“Or she kills you.”

“How unbelievably morbid of you,” you mutter.

Bucky glances at you and Sam even huffs out what you think could be a laugh.

“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo. The serum never corrupted Steve,” Bucky says.

“Touché. But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

You can’t disagree with him. These people – Karli, her super soldiers. You know that they’re not trying to be Steve Rogers. They’re anything but. But you also know that John Walker, where-ever he is, whoever he is, isn’t qualified for the job either.

Bucky sighs and makes to walk away from the three of you and head toward the couch, looking for a well deserved seat. “Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.”

“And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo replies, staring into a cabinet and not even bothering to give Bucky a glance.

“Yes.” Bucky doesn’t hesitate.

Sam rolls his eyes, clearly irritated by the both of them. He says something, you vaguely hear something about his ‘TT’, though you don’t listen to the words. Instead, you stare into your drink, swirling the water around in the cup.

It’s not the first time you wonder if you’ve made a mistake my coming along with Sam, Bucky and Zemo. It’s not like Sharon gave you a choice, but you know that you could have insisted that you not come along. But now you’re wondering even more as you sit in Zemo’s living room, listening to the three men concoct a plan without even needing to consult you. Three men – a criminal, one that doesn’t trust you and one that you just don’t understand at all. You feel out of place among them.

You push yourself up and out of your chair, leaving your water behind on the table, and head towards the hallway that’ll lead you to the room Zemo told you that you could use. Bucky watches as you go, wondering if he should call out and ask you where you’re going, though he hesitates for too long and by that time, you’re out of sight. Sam watches him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Bucky looks at him.

“You, staring at her like that. Are you in cahoots or something? I saw you talking on the street. Hell, you stopped to talk to her. What’s that about?”

Bucky scoffs. “In cahoots? Are you being serious right now?”

“Deadly.”

“Yeah, you know what else is deadly?”

“What?”

“Karli if we don’t hurry up and get some information on Donya Madani.” Bucky stands up and heads towards the bathroom. “As soon as I’m done, we’re heading out.”

Sam shakes his head and mutters “Who made you boss?” under his breath.

Bucky hears him. “I did!”

***

You’re not quite sure what you expect to find, but it’s certainly more than you’re leaving with. Bucky is standing and staring at Zemo and a group of children when you and Sam rejoin him. You’d gone upstairs with him, having decided on the journey there to at least try with him, and if he still refused to trust you, you’d give up. Or perhaps you wouldn’t. You hadn’t quite decided yet.

Bucky looks at you as you stand beside him, hands tucked firmly into the pockets of your jacket to shield them from the cool breeze. You hadn’t said much to him since he’d joined you at Zemo’s apartment after your talk on the street, and honestly he didn’t expect you to. He didn’t even really know what to say to you, so he’d figured he’d not even bother breaching the topic. If you wanted to talk about it, you would.

You stare ahead at Zemo, eyes narrowed. He’d been a little anxious about you going upstairs with Sam alone, even though he knew deep down that Sam wasn’t going to do anything, especially to Sharon’s friend.

“Someone needs to teach those children not to talk to strangers,” you mutter.

Sam snorts.

“No, seriously. If I was their age and someone that looked and acted like Zemo came up and started talking to me like that, I’d probably want to punch him and run.” You pause and then spot the Turkish delight. “On second thoughts…” You make to walk towards him, suddenly feeling rather protective over the children unknowingly speaking to a criminal like Zemo.

Before you can even make it two steps, a hand closes around your wrist and pulls you to a stop. You look back, irritated, to find Bucky shaking his head at you.

“Don’t. He’s not going to hurt them. They’re giving him information.”

“They’re children and he’s a criminal.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, tugging you back to his side and letting go of your wrist once you’re there. “And I’ll punch him in the face if I have to.”

Sam chuckles. “Don’t tempt him, or me, for that matter.”

“Now you’ve just made me want to watch him get punched in the face.”

Bucky and Sam share a look.

“I will if you will,” Sam shrugs.

Zemo finishes speaking to the children and walks back towards the three of you. “Cute kids,” he says, smiling a smile that makes your skin crawl. He walks straight past you.

“Yeah, I hate that man,” you mutter.

***

The journey back to Zemo’s apartment is quiet and uncomfortable. You feel worried for the children and are contemplating various different ways you could physically injure and maim Zemo. Whatever Sam and Bucky are thinking, you don’t know or particularly care.

What you do know is that you didn’t find what you came for

You close the door of the apartment behind you.

“Well, I got nothing,” Bucky says, heading straight to the couch. “No one’s talking about Donya.”

“Yeah, it’s because Karli is the only one fighting for them,” Sam replies, settling down on the couch opposite Bucky. “And she’s not wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

You find a spot on the couch by Bucky and kick off your shoes so you can put your feet up. All of the travelling around was certainly taking its toll and honestly, you were beyond exhausted. If you had the time to sleep for more than a few broken hours, you’d take it. You rest your head on your arm, laying your head down on the top of the couch, and look between Sam and Bucky.

Sam sighs and elaborates. “For five years, people have been welcomed into countries that have kept them out using barbwire. There were houses and jobs. Folks were happy to have people around to help them rebuild. It wasn’t just one community coming together, it was the entire world coming together. And then, boom. Just like that, it goes right back to the way it used to be. To them, at least Karli’s doing something.”

“You really think her ends justify her means?” Bucky says. “Then, she’s no different than him,” he motions to Zemo, “or anybody else we’ve fought.”

“She’s different. She’s not motivated by the same things.”

You find the courage to speak. “Just because she’s not motivated by the same things as Zemo or the people you’ve fought, it doesn’t mean she’s not unlike them,” you sit up a little straighter as they look at you. “I haven’t fought people like you have, but I’ve fought. I’ve seen what regular people can do with a following. Karli is different, but she’s the same, too. She’s making change, but at what cost?”

Bucky looks at you, eyes narrowed. “I like you,” he says. “You get me.”

Sam rolls his eyes and looks like he’s about to reply when Zemo comes over holding a tray with tea and several tea cups. It almost makes you laugh, the sight of him with the smallest, daintiest pieces of China, but you hold it back, knowing that all eyes in the room would fall on you if you did laugh.

“That little girl. What’d she tell you?” Bucky’s amusement over you is long gone.

Zemo looks at the three of you for several moments before finally giving up the information he’d been holding hostage. “The funeral is this afternoon.”

Beside you, Bucky huffs in annoyance. “You know the Dora’s coming for you at any minute? In fact, they’re probably lurking outside right now. Keep talking.”

“Leaving you to turn on me once we get to Karli. Hmm. I prefer to keep my leverage.”

You watch as Bucky stands up from the couch and walks towards him. Something tells you that he’s not just standing up to talk, but before you can so much as think of anything else, Bucky grabs a tea cup and throws it against the wall behind Zemo. It shatters with a surprisingly loud crack.

“You wanna see what someone can do with leverage?”

Both you and Sam are on your feet in seconds, stepping in-between them. You press a hand against Bucky’s shoulder and try to move him away from Zemo, but it does nothing. He doesn’t move and instead keeps shooting daggers at Zemo over your shoulder.

“Take it easy. Don’t engage him. He’s just gonna extort you and do that stupid head tilt thing,” Sam says, warning Bucky off. “Let me make a call.” He leaves the room, but not before tapping on Bucky’s other shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of it.

Zemo gets on your nerves by asking “You want some cherry blossom tea?”

“No, you go ahead.” Bucky is seething.

You push on his shoulder again and finally he steps back.

“What, you think we can afford to start fighting amongst each other now?” You ask, directing Bucky out of the living room and down the hall, figuring it’s probably for the best if he and Zemo aren’t in the same room right now. Zemo can enjoy his cherry blossom tea all on his own.

Bucky lets out a long, shaky breath. “Told you I wanted to punch him.”

“When I said I wanted to see it, I didn’t mean today.”

You tug him out of the hall and into your room, closing the door behind you. It’s the first time the two of you have been alone since the street where he’d called you out for contradicting yourself all the time. Strangely, he’s the person out of the three of them that you’re the most comfortable around, yet you also know he’s definitely the one that’s the most rash in his decision making. Hence the broken cup.

Bucky sits down on the edge of the bed and runs his hands over his hair.

“I know that helping him get out was for the best considering everything with Karli and the Flag Smashers, but I’m really regretting my decision right about now,” he admits, eyes focused firmly on the floor.

You walk over and settle down beside him on the bed.

“He has his uses, but just because he’s useful doesn’t mean he’s any less of an ass.”

He laughs briefly and the sound makes you smile.

“We all have regrets, okay?” You continue. “I have plenty of them, you have them, Sam has them, I bet even Zemo has some. Buried deep down. I try not to focus on mine. Maybe you should try the same with the Zemo thing.”

Bucky lifts his head and looks at you. “Yeah, it’s that easy, is it?”

For some reason, you want him to trust you even more now. Having felt disconnected from them all day, but also having felt the thrill when one of them laughs at your joke, or even Bucky just telling you that he likes you… the part of you that wants trust wins out, so you decide to tell Bucky one of your regrets.

“I regret leaving Madripoor and Sharon,” you admit. “She’s the only home I’ve known for the longest time. Madripoor – however messed up it is there – felt like some kind of home because of her. It’s the first time we’ve been apart since the blip, I suppose. Part of me wishes I was still there with her. But the other part of me focuses on the fact that she thinks I’m of more use here, with you guys. So I’m trying to be of use to you guys. I’m trying not to shut myself off. I’m pushing down my regret in favour of trying to be helpful.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Well, I haven’t contradicted myself yet, have I?”

Bucky smiles properly for the first time since you’ve met him.

“And listen, if it makes you feel any better, you entirely have my permission to punch Zemo before we finish all of this. I don’t know Sam well, but I have a feeling he’d be on board, too.”

He chuckles and leans back until he’s laying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I meant what I said in there before,” he points in the direction of the living room. “That I like you. That you get me. I don’t know how, but you do.” He looks up at you, sitting up and watching him. “You’re making it annoyingly easy for me to trust you right now, you know that? I feel like I shouldn’t trust you because of the contradictions you make about yourself. But now you’re sitting here, being open and honest with me. Making sure I don’t punch people. And now I feel like I could trust you.”

You’re smiling. “Maybe that was all part of my grand plan.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m joking. It was a joke,” you huff out a laugh. “Learn to take a joke, James.”

He pushes himself up, sitting straight again. “James?”

“That’s your name, is it not? Or do you not like being called James?”

“No, it’s… it’s fine.” He blinks. Lets your words settle with him for a moment.  “Bucky, James. I don’t care what you call me. Unless it’s offensive.”

“Well, you’re safe there,” you laugh. “I’m not mad at you, by the way. About what you said earlier. You were right. I do contradict myself, and I do it to protect myself.”

Bucky frowns. “You don’t have to protect yourself from me.”

“Then I’ll try not to,” you say honestly. “Now, have you cooled off enough to go back and see who Sam was calling, or do you wanna stay here for a few more minutes?”

Bucky thinks over your question for a few moments, thinking ever so briefly about staying here with you for a little bit longer simply because he thinks he likes being around you, before nodding. “I think I’m good.”

You nod and stand up, intending to head to the door, but Bucky reaches out a hand to stop you. He means to grab your wrist, but unintentionally ends up grabbing your hand. You whirl, eyes a little wider than you realise, and look at him.

He doesn’t let go.

“Thank you,” he says. “For getting me out of there. For calming me down.”

You smile. “Anytime, Bucky.”

***

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[the-peachpit]

Between the Lines

Ship: Shorter Wong x (Y/N)

Summary: Shorter and (y/n) are fighting about the future. (y/n) want’s to apologize, but what if Shorter can never forgive her?

Opening your laptop, you pick your favorite spotify playlist before looking around the room of the small apartment you shared with your boyfriend and friends. Hands on your hips you knew you were supposed to start packing but finding the best place to start was impossible. Every time one of your fingers so much as touched anything you were whisked away down memory lane. From shirts that you got when you first moved to New York planning to only stay for a year-it had been four- to the fake rose Shorter had bought for you the day you met. That memory took hold hard, mostly because of the disagreement you and Shorter had been passively aggressively maneuvering around for days. While living in New York you found a job in journalism, mostly freelance writing articles here and there. It wasn’t enough anymore to be some anonymous writer; you had seen your fair share of tragedy and a burning desire was lit deep in your chest to be more. Max- the man who had taken you under his wing- suggested you attend a college in California the degree could rally ramp up your career. At first the idea sounded nuts, the school was insanely expensive, and renting a town house was currently stretching you thin enough. Knowing Max came with a secret perk though he used contacts to get you in on a huge scholarship. Mostly because they could say the prodigy of Max Lobe- the man who took down New York’s biggest mafia family on a pedophilia scandal- was attending. Max gave you the news over dinner, and of course you wanted to go.

Laying back on the bed as Rose by Briston Maroney played you twirled the plastic rose in between your fingers. Shorter had given the rose the day he met you like a true fool who believed in love at first sight. Of course, you were skeptical and only believed in a player at first sight. If Eji, who you trust with your life, hadn’t vouched for him you never would have even entertained the idea. Rolling your eyes, you took the rose in a ha-ha sort of way. Shorter had taken it as a win and asked you on a date to his own restaurant. Twice you turned him down, it was the third time that did the trick. Though you had just been saved by him so that may have helped. You were shopping near China Town with Eji when the two of you were jumped and taken hostage. Eji was being used for ransom and your head was spinning. That was also the day you found out about the gang activity Ash and Shorter were a part of. It didn’t scare you like Shorter was afraid it would. Instead you accepted his date offer kind of asking him yourself.

He closed the restaurant down and it was just the two of you. Shorter hosted his own date taking you to your table, picking wine, cooking. He had the whole thing down, like he really had been planning it since the day you met.

Four years later here resting your hand back down on the sheets looking up at the ceiling. Shorter hadn’t come home for two days, Ash promised he was safe, but the last words Shorter had mumbled under his breath were ‘you wouldn’t make it out there,’ and you exploded it was the final straw as you screamed at him to leave. Shorter left without another word. You’d never screamed like that at him, he’s never stayed gone for so long with zero communication. Eyes darting around the room, you decided packing was impossible there were still two weeks till departure and that was more than enough time to put your life in a couple suitcases and leave everyone behind.

Walking downstairs the TV is playing softly and you know Eji is using it for noise. Catching him red handed in the kitchen you find him making himself a snack carefully cutting vegetables. Eji was the only reason anyone in the house didn’t live off pasta or Chinese food -courtesy of Shorter. Max helped balance their diets sometimes, but usually brought a lot of deserts with him. Not that anyone complained, Max really played the Dad role in the house. Eji was short with black hair and dark brown eyes. You never missed an opportunity to tease him about his height which he blamed on his Asian genes, until you bring up Shorter is in fact not short, and taller than Ash. That gets Eji red in the face, today though the spark wasn’t there. Instead you opted to swipe a cucumber from his cutting board.

Eji stopped cutting all together to put his hands on his hips, “It’s dangerous for you to just grab stuff like that while I’m cutting, (y/n).”

You laugh, “It’s not like you’re going to cut my fingers off. Or are you that clumsy?”

Eji resumed cutting, “Maybe it won’t be an accident, you did break one of my favorite photo frames.” He pointed the knife your way.

“Wait a minute, Ash is the one who threw the pillow!” You protest.

“You’re the one who tried to braid his hair while he was sleeping,” Eji brought up a smile creeping across his face.

“You knew his hair was getting long and you wanted to do the same thing. It looked cute!” You whine walking to the island leaning against the wooden top.

Eji laughed, he had a cute laugh that went up and octave, “He looked great, I tried to convince him to wear it that way.” He sighed, “Instead he had to go and cut it,” Eji whined.

Walking over Eji placed a plate of cut assorted vegetables and ranch. Picking up a carrot round you inspected it turning it between your fingers like the rose.

“Has Shorter bene home?” You ask hoping maybe he snuck in while you were gone.

Eji shook his head, “No.”

“Have you heard from him?” The desperation in your voice betrays you.

Eji shakes his head again without saying a word. The frown on the face gives it all away, he feels bad, he’s been in the situation of not knowing where his lover was. Sympathy radiates off him in waves as you bite into another carrot round and think about packing, or maybe not going at all.

Hearing the front door creak open your heart skips a beat as you look over, only slightly disappointed to watch a disgruntled blonde walk in. Running his fingers through his blonde locks Ash came up to the counter grabbing a slice of cucumber. About a million questions run through your brain at once, but you know he has something on his mind. He never walks in so silently; Ash is always sure to announce his presence as not to startle anyone into thinking it’s a break in. It’s an old habit everyone kept from when Ash was hunted down just a few short years ago. As much as you watched Ash, Eji, Sorter, hell even Max joke around, you knew the fear was still there. Harbored deep down.

Finally, Ash swallows and his green eyes won't dare connect with yours.

“I’m going to Coney Island for few days,” Ash announced.

Eji turned his face screwed immediately into worry, “When are we going?”

“You’re staying here,” Ash’s voice was firm, he’d made his decision.

Though if anyone was stubborn and could change the Lynx mind it was Eji.

“I’ll pack a bag,” Eji didn't take no for an answer.

Ash sighed, “Come on Eji, it’s an easy job, it’s just Arthur causing problems. Squashing him back down won’t take more than the weekend.”

“Going alone is stupid,” Eji crossed his arms officially meaning business.

“Do I ever go alone?”

Eji grunted.

“Look I’m going with, Cain,” Ash paused, “And Shorter.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you realize why he hasn’t looked at you since he got in. The air in the apartment changes tremendous tension at the name of the man with a purple mohawk.

“Is he coming here?” You ask.

“Sorry (y/n), I’m actually going to meet him in china town,” Ash played with the collar of his shirt.

You feel your guts twist the butterflies dying and anger filling your cheeks turning them red. You bang your fist against the countertop.

“Why!” You shout your voice echoing startling yourself.

Silence sits in the room, your own voice still echoing in your ears. Slowly you lay your head on the cool varnished wood.

“He can’t avoid me forever,” You mumble, “We have to talk about this.”

It didn���t sit right with you, to just let it fester any longer your heart was breaking already the thought of him just being angry with you. You wanted to understand why he was so upset with you leaving.

“Plus, I need to apologize,” You pick your head up, “I was out of line screaming at him to leave.”

Eji turned up his nose, “From what I heard he was just as much at fault.

You raise a brow towards Eji, “How much did you hear.”

Eji jumped a little, “I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he put his hands up in defense, “But I could hear you guys down the hall.”

Once again, the silence overtook the kitchen. You guys really had been properly arguing.

“I want to go,” You look at Ash trying to channel Eji’s determination.

“Neither of you are going,” Ash put his foot down, “It’s too dangerous.”

You stand up, “Seriously Eji’s been,” you’re cut off by a knife falling to the floor.

Looking over Eji is picking up the kitchen utensil apologizing. He keeps his dark eyes on the knife as he places back on the counter.

“If it’ll just take the weekend, we’ll see you Sunday night than,” Eji beamed his eyes closed.

Ash nodded crossing the threshold of the island hugging Eji tightly. You saw the way Eji’s dark eye’s looked dim as he returned the hug his face just popping over Ash’s shoulder. Without another word Ash walked upstairs presumably to his bedroom. You kept your eyes down on the wooden floor listening to the footsteps creaking across the little house.

“If I couldn’t get through to Ash this time there’s no way you could,” Eji leaned back against the counter.

“But he let you go on dangerous jobs all the time,” You finish your rebuttal.

“I knew you were going to bring that up,” Eji shook his head, “Ash did everything to keep me safe, he always told me to stay behind, but I never listened.”

“Sound’s about right,” You snicker not used to seeing Eji so serious and you weren’t sure what to say, “Why are you listening this time?”

“Because I think I know why he wants me to stay.”

“If you say because of me,” You point at Eji, “I’ll come over there and sock you.”

Eji stuck his tongue out at you, “Of course it’s you, but not you. More like imagine how Shorter would deal with it post argument, he couldn’t focus someone would get hurt. Besides you only caught the end of our adventure, you never saw what happened in the center, it was rough. Especially on Shorter and Ash.”

You feel your shoulders sag, he was right, you were there to help Max break the story. The last major part in the chaos you took part in was finding Ash in the library.

“Say goodbye to him for me,” You wave off Eji. You couldn’t stand to see Ash off currently.

Grabbing your coat off the hook you could practically feel Eji’s eyes boring holes in the back of your skull.

“I’m not going where you think I’m going,” You huff, “It’s purely coincidence.”

“(y/n),” Eji warns.

“I’m serious, call Max and ask,” You open the door and can hear the footsteps rushing down the hall.

Slamming the door for fun and out of spite and head towards the subway.

While waiting for the train you sit on a bench and pull out your phone realizing on a normal day you would have been long gone to work already. There’s no way you would have stumbled into Ash, Shorter would have slipped away without a trace. You could feel the anger rising in your gut, you had half a mind to go back and really give Ash what for. Every time you and Ash started a shouting match though somehow Eji would diffuse it-or Ash would win. Clenching your phone, you tap your foot angrily looking down the platform. Where the hell was the train, you wanted to get far away from the crazy-at least for a few hours.

“Mind if I sit here?”

You look up at a pair of dark eyes slightly covered by dark bangs a figure shorter than Eji standing there.

“What do you want Sing?” You sigh sitting back against the metal bench.

Sing take a seat next to you his signature smirk plastered across his face, “I was in the neighborhood, and Ash called asking me to find out if you were doing anything dumb.”

You had half a mind to at this point, “It’s not me it’s Shorter,” you cross your arms over your chest.

“Wow you guys really are fighting!” Sing looked like he was in awe.

“Oh good,” Your voice goes up an octave in sarcasm, “Everyone knows!”

“it’s hard not to,” Sing sticks his nose up, “Shorter’s been a real pain in the ass recently.”

You roll your eyes, “Tell me about it.” You look over catching Sing’s eyes and the two of you burst out into laughter.

You liked Sing he was a little younger than everyone else, but you could tell even while participating in gang activity he was growing up just fine. Always offering to walk you to see Shorter if he was too busy to leave the restaurant, and making you feel better when things with your gang leader boyfriend were tense and strained. Sing was easy to joke around with and didn’t treat you like an outsider of the tightly knit group that had formed. He believed in you 100 percent. The more you thought about it he was kind of like a cute little guard dog.

“Want some company wherever you’re going?”

“I don’t want to move you too far out of your way, I am going to Broadway to do paperwork for Max.”

Sing just waved you off, “I’m not doing anything anyway, I wasn’t invited to the shakedown.”

You snort and Sing started to gripe over the sound of the train pulling in. That was another thing about Sing, you knew he was capable, hell everyone did, but if they weren’t worried about protecting you or Eji -Sing was next on that list. Truly the little brother to the dynamic duo Shorter and Ash. One-time Sing had been late coming back from a drop off and Shorter was pacing the small livingroom practically pulling his purple hairs out. When Sing did show up Shorter was so mad, he hadn’t answered his phone. Turns out Sing had broken it and Ash bought him a new one the next day. Even as Sing insisted, he could pay for it.

Deciding to let Sing accompany you because it was better than riding alone to work the two of you swapped casual conversation about idle topics like tv shows or what new dishes Eji was trying.

“Man,” Sing leaned back while holding the brace bar, “You better bring me leftovers.”

You laughed, “Why don’t you just come over for dinner?”

Sing smiled and you’re reminded once again why you like talking to Sing so much. He was easy to talk to, he wasn’t as serious, he really brought your stress down a level. Sing stayed with you up until you got to the front of the small office building Max was operating out of.

“Thanks,” You wave as you start ascending the stairs.

“He’ll be fine after this weekend!” Sing shouted back.

You pause at the door looking back towards the bottom of the steps.

Sing gestures a thumbs up, “There’s no way Shorter will still be mad after a weekend away. I could already see his resolve crumbling when I talked to him earlier. He hates being away from you, and being angry,” he winked, “He’s kind of into you, but you didn’t hear it from me.”

You can feel the blush spreading through your cheeks as you giggle, “I won’t say a word.”

Dancing your way to the elevator clicking the button for the fifth floor you felt your heart fluttering in your chest. By the time Shorter was back you’d be packed, and everything would be fixed.

The elevator doors slid open and you met Max with a large smile even when he sheepishly presented you with a large stack of papers to proofread. The deadline was tight, and you knew you couldn’t give him an earful, he was the one getting you into a prestigious school, the work had to be done that day. It was a welcomed distraction as you sat at your desk and started knocking out articles.

It was nine o’clock when you finished and turning your brain off to Shorter had been the right move. Max drove you home asking about packing and giving you pointers for LA. You decided not to tell him about the drama, you’re not sure what he’d say. Though he was a married man you knew he had his own share of drama with his wife. Maybe you didn’t really want his advice.

Getting back to the small town house you see Eji sitting with the TV on watching an old movie, your dinner is int eh microwave. You already know how the night is going to go, it’s always the same when Ash and Shorter are out, dinner, snacks, movies, sticking close. The two of you may fall asleep on the couch, or in someone’s bed. You say nothing about what you think they may be doing, and you are each other’s company, there’s comfort in knowing someone is going through the same thing. Eji smiles and you know it’s hollow, he’s worried, you’re worried. You gently hold his hand and the weekend of silent hopes commences.

You’re practically bouncing off the walls Sunday night. You went with Eji to the store and started making a large meal that afternoon of the duo’s favorite foods. Unsure of Cain would be spending the night you guessed at what he might like.

“I’m inviting Sing,” You say already tapping on your phone.

The kitchen looked like a proper welcome home party with food, drinks, and a few decorations. There was a knock on the door, and you gestured for Sing to come in and make himself comfortable.

Around 11 o’clock you were starting to pace. You weren’t actually sure when they were getting in, hopefully sooner than later.

1 am was when you heard the first heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. The footsteps aren’t what woke you up though it was Eji getting off the couch jolting Sing awake. Slowly you adjusted to the bright lights you can’t believe you fell asleep with them on. Yawning and stretching the excitement of them coming home hasn’t hit you yet, your head is still fuzzy with sleep. Eji’s standing at the door like a puppy his hands clasped together patiently waiting with a sleepy smile on his face. For a moment it almost slips your mind why.

Crashing open the door seemed ready to burst from its hinges as everything moves too fast. Ash hobbled in leaning against Cain who had a strong grip around Ash’s waist. Eji was scrambling to Ash’s side while instructing Sing where the first aid kit was because you still hadn’t moved frozen to the couch. No wait- you were standing- when had you stood up? Eji was asking Cain what happened, but he sounded so far away, like his voice was coming through the walls. All at once the world that was chaotic and moving at lightning speed slowed. Sing ran back from the bathroom with the first aid kit, and you swore he was running through jell-o. Your feet moved, but you swore you hadn’t told them to. Padding across the hardwood floor in slip resistant kitten socks you push Eji to the side, your hands instinctively grab Ash’s collar. He lets you tug him down to meet your face. You feel hot and cold all at once as you stare into his dim green eyes.

“Where's Shorter?” You whisper simply.

Ash is silent Eji is grabbing your shoulder.

You shake the blonde haphazardly moving yourself more than him.

“Where’s Shorter!” You scream feeling the fat tears stream down your face.

“They got him,” Ash’s voice is hoarse.

“What do you mean they got him!” You can’t stop screaming.

“y/n” Eji’s voice still sounds like a faraway whisper.

“Arthur was a little more than we bargained for,” Cain answered gruffly, “Ash’s hurt pretty bad, Shorter let himself get chased and probably caught so we could get out.”

The tugging on your shoulder feels more forceful and you let yourself get pulled back releasing the death grip on Ash. Finger outlines kept his shirt collar pulled out. Stepping back further you let Eji and Sing attend to Ash and Cain in gentle calming voices. Sticking around to watch doesn’t sit right with you, and you can feel your stomach turning. Instead you run upstairs and enter your room. Slowly you close the door the air feeling like it was sucked out of the room right after. Shakily you put your hands over your mouth, your back sliding against the door. Crying on the floor next to the empty cardboard boxes that were never packed the room is too full- too full of Shorter.

[kidlightnings]

dinner, no movie

mob au, ky/eli, ky/asra, 4656 words, r-18 (oral, handjobs)

"Now, I've always fancied myself more of a box wine kinda girl."

Ky tried and failed to dispel the grin. "I'm sorry, but the only things I have come in glass. Maybe I can compromise with a handle."

Eli chewed cool fish on warm rice. He made a little snorting laugh. "I'll take your shittiest vintage."

eli belongs to @vesuviannights, ky is my own disaster son

Ky was breathless, dark-eyed as Asra settled himself down on the plush sheets, comforter. His lips were kiss-swollen and clothes significantly undone. Still more intact than Asra’s.

“Ahh- Asra?”

Asra guided him down to sit across one thigh. His hand aligned Ky’s to stroke against his mostly-hard cock.

“Mm?” he asked, nuzzled into Ky’s throat.

“Who’s the guy? The one locked up?”

Asra chuckled into him. “What a question to ask, right now…”

Ky made a little needy noise.

“A pawn,” Asra said.

He made a little huff, let his thumb slide through slickness and trail it back down. “Did he… do something?”

“Not directly, no, treasure, why are you so curious?”

Asra’s voice carried with it a dangerous lilt that Ky knew meant that some questions shouldn’t be pressed. Ky took the adjacent path as Asra’s hands slid up his back.

“Well- does he have to be locked up-?”

Asra laughed, kissed his lips. “Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, aren’t you? What would keep him here, otherwise?”

“Ahh- w- what if I watched him?”

Asra met his eyes, his own almost luminescent with whispers that constantly ran through his head. “Oh, love, would you? Would you stop him, if he tried to run? Would you fight him?”

Ky swallowed, looked to the side. “For- for you, I would.”

Another quick, flirting kiss landed on his lips.

“Oh, you would, wouldn’t you? And you’d be torn up about it later, wouldn’t you?”

“He just looks so miserable, and if he didn’t do anything-”

Asra’s gaze, fond, and indulgent, cut him off. “If you were anyone else, treasure, I’d think you were going to try to free him while I wasn’t looking. But,” he paused, sliding his hand across Ky’s chest, and resting it there. “You’re far too loyal for that, aren’t you? You’re just soft, here.”

Ky could feel pulse traveling into palm as he breathed.

"I'll take personal responsibility, he's not going to run away, we just- we’re not-"

Asra lay back, guided his head down. "Ask me in a few minutes, treasure, I want your mouth doing something else."

Ky kissed at the tip of his dick, dropped to lick from base to tip in a little prelude to taking Asra fully down. His lips worked there while tongue undulated higher up against the smooth head.

Asra's hand tightened in a bright and shining ocean of hair. Lips pumped up and down in smooth motions, tongue stroking him from the inside. Asra couldn’t manage the sounds coming from his lips, soft moans, and a shuddering gasp as Ky’s nose pushed into the skin of his belly, lips tickled by fine white hairs.

"Yes- Ky, yes, fine- fine, you- you can take him to dinner- d-do w-whatever you want with him!"

Ky made a pleased little noise, but was far from one to leave what he started unfinished.

Later, he wiped his mouth, exiting, and headed to his own room to put himself back in order. Hair pinned neatly and lips once again coated in smooth, even color, Ky made his way into the very interior of the mansion. Tarek passed him in the hall.

"Heard you have some visiting privileges," he chuckled, and despite a total lack of untowards intentions, Ky felt himself blushing.

"Just dinner," he said, fast.

"No movie?"

"Ha- aha- no- not like that-"

Tarek patted his shoulder. "Oh, I know." He laughed it, continued on.

Ky reached a door with a one-way window, clear on his side, and keyed in the pin. He knew it, and had for long before he'd been told. It was in his job description, practically.

He swung the door in a smooth motion, where ashy hair did little to hide a sullen scowl. Eyes met his and held contact that had Ky doubting himself. He'd been sure when just looking in, but the anger, the darkness locked on him, could easily, was easily, getting under his skin.

"'m- ah, I'm Ky," he said, walked forward and extended his hand.

His guest didn't take it. Didn't speak. Ky let his hand drop.

"Well, I'm here to get you dinner and get you out a while, ok? Don't- ahh, please don't run off on me."

"So, the arm candy is here to entertain me?"

Ky's lips pulled into a grimace that he forced into a smile in a small turn.

"Do I have to have a taste?"

Ky shook his head. "You don't have to do anything. Well, except just tell me what you like to eat."

He chuckled darkly. "Is this where I say pizza and sushi like we're nervously planning our first date?"

Ky exhaled into a laugh. "Feel like getting some air while you think about it?"

He stood with a weary sound. "If that's what has to happen."

Ky reentered the code and led him out. He followed at a short distance, reluctant, but compliant.

Again in the hall, he and Vega exchanged a curious look that faded into a smile on her side, mirrored on his after she was gone.

"Eli," he finally said as they walked.

Ky turned and again put out his hand, and with any other expression except the broad and uncomplicated smile, it'd have appeared a caricature of the gesture. Eli shrugged, resigned, and gave him a firm shake, brief, before dropping his hand again.

“Now that we’ve been introduced,” Ky teased. “Is there anything you’d like to do? Ah- aside from leave?”

Eli sighed. “Surprise me.”

Ky slid his phone from his pocket and swiped seemingly idly for a moment, then a small smile settled on his face. "Dinner will be here in...half an hour, maybe forty five," Ky then said. "Feel like coming outside? It's a nice courtyard, the weather is nice."

Eli shrugged. "If it'll placate you."

Ky frowned slightly. He realized the rejection had no business feeling near so personal, given their positions, and yet, it did. 

"Come on," he said, forcing some brightness into his voice.

Eli followed, and Ky lead them through the remaining hallway and to the courtyard, surrounded by opulent living and play space. Birdsong lilted its way through the air, and sweetness mellowed around them from flowers in full bloom.

"It's a hobby," Ky commented, gesturing to the abject lushness around them.

"Arm candy… courtesan? I suppose the Alnazars prefer them to pretend to be cultured?"

Ky leveled him a sharp look.

"Ah! So he isn't just a doll!"

"No. I'm not. And I can't set you free, but, I can keep you with me so that you're not with anyone else."

"It's a threat?" Eli asked.

"An offer. But I guess it could go either way…" Ky said, his gaze contemplative. "I mean, I wasn't going to encourage anyone to be a dick to you. But… I can see that already happened."

Eli touched at the marks from his abduction. His voice was resigned when he spoke again. "I guess it has."

"I… I don't know why you were brought here, but, I'm not an animal. Asra said you haven't done anything wrong, so, it feels wrong, ok, to just lock you in a room. That's all. That's it."

Eli shook his head, hair swaying in the light breeze that ruffled the leaves around them, shook a fresh dusting of pollen free, by the aroma.

"It is… Nice to see the sun," he finally said.

"Shall I let you be a while?"

"It's better than a room with no windows," he admitted.

"I'll come get you when dinner's here?"

"You don't have to leave. I just don't have anything to talk to the pet of the boss who is holding me hostage about."

"Ahh- I guess I deserve it, don't I?"

"You are here. And working for him."

Ky sighed. "It's true. We've never done anything like this…"

"That you know of."

He raised his hands, apologetic.

"Ah- yes… That I know of. What about you?"

"You haven't unlocked that content yet," Eli chuckled, dryly.

Ky mirrored the sound. "I suppose I haven't. Maybe after I've fed you and picked a few more right answers."

Eli looked at the ground, as though hiding the smile that tugged at his lips.

They were silent, then, and Ky finally moved to a little table tucked away and took from it shears, started to prune, as though having forgotten Eli was there. It seemed, to Ky's perception, to suit him just fine, and he caught glimpses as Eli took in the surroundings.

He felt a buzz in his pocket and checked the phone.

"Ah… shall I get it and come back, or would you rather eat inside? We have a whole dining room we never use."

"And leave me here? Alone?"

Ky smiled. "You'd be hard pressed to unlock any of these, and, the glass… well. I don't like the idea of anyone falling through it on a bender. You'd be here when I got back."

"You're a surprise," Eli said, wryly.

"I do what I can."

"I'll come with. I'll enjoy the Alnazar's decadence while I have entertainment for the evening."

Ky held the subtly framed french door for him.

Fetching the delivery from the front hall was quick. They walked back along another hall, paneled, until it opened in a diagonal to a plush rug under a polished tabletop, frivolously long and framed in enough chairs for many times their current number in the upper echelons.

"I can see why you don't eat in the general conference room," Eli quipped.

Ky stepped through but didn't stop at the table, and passed into a further room, more scullery than dining room. A small table, easily for cooks or wait staff to use as needed, set near the far wall.

"Better?" Ky asked, smile mischievous.

Eli chuckled. "If I say yes, will you settle down and stop trying to show me your throat?"

"Oh, absolutely not."

Ky was pink in the cheeks as he set the plastic bags down and started to pull styrofoam containers, flimsy utensils, and thin napkins out. A few paper-sleeved wooden chopsticks came out with the utensils. Ky set them like silverware. Styrofoam plates were arranged like China, and Ky caught the sliver of amused smile.

"You know if you'd wanted me on my knees, you didn't need to go through all this, you could have just put a gun to my head."

Ky shrugged, unsure if he should joke, or counter more severely.

"That's usually my job," he settled on.

"The knees, or the gun?"

"Yes," Ky answered. "Ah- that's a lie. I try to avoid the last one."

"But not the first."

Pink turned to red. Ky didn't answer, instead started opening containers - some the traditional square, and others, the slimmer, half-wide.

"Sure, but where's the pizza?" Eli asked, stifling any other reaction.

Ky gestured to a chair. "That's for tomorrow," he laughed. "Thirsty?"

Eli answered as Ky pulled down glasses from a small cupboard.

"For something stronger than you're getting."

"Later! You haven't had water all day, have you?"

"I had a cup."

Ky looked at his watch, then at Eli, and set a full glass in front of him.

"Later. We'll look at the wine cellar."

Eli downed it, and Ky took, refilled it.

"Now, I've always fancied myself more of a box wine kinda girl."

Ky tried and failed to dispel the grin. "I'm sorry, but the only things I have come in glass. Maybe I can compromise with a handle."

Eli chewed cool fish on warm rice. He made a little snorting laugh. "I'll take your shittiest vintage."

"I'll make it a double. How is it?"

Eli seemed to consider before answering. Ky felt nerves rise in his belly, for what reason, he couldn't justify beyond an irrational need to please everyone, including, he supposed, a prisoner. "What's the place, right next door? It's fresh."

Ky laughed, forcibly dispelling the tightness in his chest. "It's- ah- it's not, is the weird part. I- ahah- I don't know how they do it."

"You're sure your boss doesn't just have a private sushi chef locked in some other room?"

"At least then there'd be a reason, right?"

Eli laughed. "Don't trick me into laughing about being held up here."

Ky smiled. "It's- ah- it's better than not, isn't it?"

He smiled and shook his head. "You're an odd one."

"Ah… I've heard that."

"I'd be surprised if you hadn't," Eli said, dryly.

Ky quieted.

"I don't imagine the ice cream survived as well," Eli said, once all that was left was traces of sauce and grains of rice in the bottom of otherwise empty styrofoam. One box remained, and he unlatched the tab to let it open.

"It's still a shape," Ky noted, looked up sheepishly.

"Now, what do I have to tell you to have it?" Eli asked.

"That you want it," Ky laughed. "I swear, it's not an interrogation. If it is, ah, I'm- ahaha, I'm the worst at it. I haven't gotten anything out of you aside from a presumed favorite food. Which, you're a very good and hungry liar if so."

Eli snorted.

Ky eased the container across the table. "If you want it?"

Eli had the softened mochi in hand and bit into it. It dripped, and Ky averted his gaze from the green dribble down his chin.

"You want that wine?"

Eli slipped the other half into his mouth, and Ky bustled empty containers into nesting in each other to drop into rubbish.

"If you're offering no strings attached, then, I think I will."

Ky nodded, gave him a sly smile. "Let's see what we're drinking."

"What would piss Asra off the most?"

Ky laughed. "None of what you'd pick."

"I just might."

His laugh turned unsettled, forced back into a light tone. His brows knit, though.

"Oh, don't look at me like that," Eli teased, "I would not, I'd hate it, and you've been such a sport about it all. You've let me be an ass to you. It's charming."

Ky let his shoulders drop and gave a sheepish smile. "Let's pick something out," he said, and held out his hand.

Eli brushed it down, but not brusquely.

"You'll have to liquor a girl up more to get mushy like that."

Ky raised a brow. "Mushy? Oh, you have no idea," he said.

"Somehow, I have an idea."

Ky looked away, started the walk back out through the imposing dining room. "Ahh, I suppose," he laughed.

The hall opened as they passed across the foyer and then took a left, into a glass-walled room that Ky held open the door to.

"So… if there's nothing here, there's more, through-"

Eli had one in hand. "This one," he said.

Ky regarded it, suppressed a giggle. The label read Chocolate Shop.

"Novelty."

Eli nodded. "Glasses, or…?"

Ky continued for another moment.

"I'll pass a bottle. Come up, no need to stay inside?"

"Up?" Eli asked, swiping a corkscrew from a ledge.

"Roof, if you wanted to get some sky? Not much you can see from the courtyard, with all the trees and all."

"Night sky…" Eli murmured.

Ky gave him a small nod.

"Sure," he said after a moment.

His eyes held a look that Ky couldn't place. It was distant, if nothing else. He didn't double back, instead proceeded through the room and out the other side to a spiraling staircase. Ky inclined his head, and Eli followed. Only one set of footsteps were audible, and Ky felt himself watched.

"Quiet," he commented.

"My job. The real one."

"Hmm…"

Ky laughed. "That knowledge won't help you." His tone had a dark subtlety.

"Fair," Eli replied.

Ky reached a landing and used a prod to push up a hatch. He pushed a ladder into the opening where cool air flooded down.

"Jacket?" Ky asked.

Eli gestured to his long sleeves.

"Suit yourself."

And yet, Ky had another folded over his arm as he gestured Eli to go first.

"Clever," Eli commented, and shimmied up.

"I'm not taking the chance of your making off with a ten dollar bottle of wine, of course."

"Are you... offering to catch me?"

Ky could hear the smirk in his voice.

"M-maybe- maybe so."

Ky followed once Eli was up, slipped a wedge under the hatch. He heard a soft gasp.

"You- ahh- you like it? It's...it is a pretty nice view."

His eyes swept out over the city, but as they fell to Eli, Ky saw him looking straight up. He looked up almost in a daze.

Ky moved to stand close enough to reach out and take the bottle. His hand hovered but hesitated until Eli looked down all on his own and uncorked it himself. He tipped it into his mouth. He swallowed, deeply, a grimace on his tongue.

Ky smiled.

"How is it?"

"Exactly what I expected," he said, held it out to Ky.

Ky took it and steeled himself, tipped a sip of the dark liquid into his mouth. It was bitter, deep, and cocoa swirled around his taste buds. The sweetness was almost too much. He swallowed in a heavy motion. It had a burn that he was loathe to repeat, but, the aftertaste dripped through his mouth in a more gentle wash.

"What did you expect?" Ky asked, voice thick.

"Too much of everything," Eli chuckled.

A small collection of folding chairs was scattered around the rooftop, various canvas camp chairs. Ky gestured, and Eli took him by the shoulder and settled him into one instead. Ky exhaled, smiled, and let himself be guided.

"If you needed me to sit first before you, you could have asked," he said, voice surprised, but with a slight edge of appreciation.

Eli settled in front of him, and held out his hand. Ky passed the bottle back. Eli felt it in his hand. "Oh, you are not matching me, come now, fair's fair."

Ky laughed, took it back and took another deep draught.

Eli finally took it back, sat more fully down onto the hardwood decking laid across the roof, facing Ky. The night air nipped at them both, Ky though only through where jacket didn't cover. He held out the other jacket. Eli rolled his eyes.

"Can't decide if you want to fuck me, or mother me."

Ky let out a little chastised laugh.

"Well, the second...ahh- it doesn't work so well with the first, now does it?"

"No, it doesn't," he said, and set the bottle down.

"But, I- ahh, I did already say, I'm not trying to take advantage."

"Oh, now you didn't say that specifically, that's a new one. Getting me fed, drunk, and up here with the stars?"

Ky laughed, nervous. "Besides, it usually works the other way."

Eli looked him up and down, comfortably sunk into the chair, and a faint pink in his cheeks, open posture. Ky looked from the stars back down to him.

"It does, doesn't it?" Eli chuckled, "you look the sort."

Ky's brows knit. "I- ahh- aha. Well. I- I can't argue with it." He held his hand out. He didn't receive the bottle in it, instead the firm warmth of Eli's hand. He felt a chill run down his arm. Impulse had him clasping it, tugging.

"Unless, you...wanted?" Ky asked, voice shaky, and eyes soft.

Eli let himself be pulled, and Ky felt lips settle on his, his other hand on his knee. He made a soft sound into Eli's mouth.

"Hmm… it tastes better on you," he said, pulled back and took another drink.

Now, Ky felt the bottle pushed into his hand, and mirrored the same motion, wine spilling down his throat. Far be it from him to say he was tipsy, but he did feel a warmth in his cheeks, whether from the alcohol or from the man leaned between his legs and pulling him into another kiss, he didn't know.

"H-hang on," he said, breaking it, "you're- ahh- this really isn't just because you think you- ahh, you don't owe me, you know?"

"I don't owe anyone for that wine, in fact, I think you owe me for it," Eli said against his mouth.

Ky smiled into his lips. "Ok, but, the everything else? I wasn't just trying to-"

Eli had his face in his hands.

"Like I think an Alnazar needs to bribe a poor unsuspecting hostage into sex?" he quipped. "You're darling. Let me enjoy it."

Ky smiled now again fondly. "I'll enjoy it, I only could hope you-"

"Shush," Eli said, "you talk so much, you little nervous nellie."

And then he shushed him with his lips.

Ky kissed back, but his eyes crinkled as he used the closeness to drape the coat over Eli's back. He nearly chuckled. Ky was sure he heard the insufferable against his mouth. Still, coat settled in place, he drew one hand to cup Eli's cheek, the other to slide a button open, then another.

Eli's hand stopped him. "Where do you think you're going with that?"

"Ah- we already talked about me.. On my knees…? I could finish off this dinner date-"

"Who says I'm the dessert?"

Ky blushed. "You're not- oh…" Ky mumbled as hands worked down his chest, settled on his hips. He swallowed hard. "Oh- E-Eli- you don't have to-"

"I know that," he said, fingers toying at his belt buckle.

Ky sighed at the pressure against where he realized suddenly how hard he was.

"Parts of you don't seem to though."

Ky wiggled his fingers. "Th- that's hardly your problem-"

"I want it to be my problem, now, will you let me thank you for making this a little less miserable?"

Ky groaned as he was palmed. "Y-ye- oh, yes-"

Eli leaned forward as Ky sagged back, finally taking the given permission to unfasten his belt and get his fly open.

Ky blushed, eyes looking down, then back up to Eli. "It- ahh- it's cold," he said, sheepish.

“It’s about to be very warm,” Eli said, dropping his head, and Ky had to cover his mouth with his hand. 

Hot breath, then a hotter mouth took him in, and Ky sighed into his palm. 

"Ohh-" he groaned, intending to say more, but completely unable as Eli slid his lips down down his cock.

Their eyes met, and Ky smiled, weak from how slack his jaw was. There was a hitch in his breath as Eli nosed into his belly, lips circling the base before drawing back up.

"Ohh- n-not t-too cold-" he murmured, watching Eli.

The ease with which he took him down gave Ky a little thrill, not because he had any delusions about his size, but there was an enthusiasm to his movements that he was sure had his voice carrying as he cried out. Ky cupped his cheek, eyes nearly shut.

"Fuck- oh… Fuck, Eli, your...ahh…your mouth-"

His cheeks pulled in. Ky yelped, felt his hips jump. "F-fuck-!"

He added how long he was going to last to things he had no delusions over. Ky breathed, tried to put it off, but he knew he was buying himself an inconsequential amount of time. He was already fast, and to have the rare treat of his cock in someone's mouth? He didn't stand a chance.

"N-not g-gonna-" he started, and Eli pulled back until just the head was between his lips. He worked his tongue in tiny motions. Ky's breath hissed at the cold against where he was wet with saliva, and felt what had been an imminent need wane back down to a hot ache.

"Oh- oh…fuck," he murmured. "Oh, fuck, that's- ahh- that's good."

Eli broke the hold for long enough to quip, "I was hoping to savor dessert."

Ky managed a laugh, voice tight with restrained pleasure. "I'm- ahh, I'm not complaining- Wha- ohh- what a- ah- terrible host I’d be if I-” Ky faltered, as Eli dropped his head again, had him again enveloped by hot lips and tongue, “rushed you.”

In the evening stillness Ky felt his voice unnaturally loud even beyond how he normally was, covered his mouth with his hand. Eli's eyes met his and his brows knit. Ky gave him a sheepishly pleasured smile.

"We- ahh- we're up high, sound….ahh…. Sound carries-"

He couldn't finish as Eli sucked harder, lips ringed around the base again and working in tight little motions. Eli had Ky's hand in his, guided it to his head. Ky's fingers clenched in his hair reflexively.

"Ahh- d-don't worry- won't fuck… Fuck your face-"

Eli hummed around his dick, and Ky gasped, groaned softly into his hand.

"Ohh-" he moaned, and Eli licked up him, laved his tongue against the head. Ky couldn't tell if what beaded there and Eli licked up was remnants of his saliva or precum, or both. He kissed against the head, and Ky had to stop himself from urging Eli's head down again. Even so, he seemed to respond to the tension in his fingers. He did take him back down. Ky whimpered into his hand. He moved like a tight cunt in slick movements until Ky choked it out, the beginnings of admission that he couldn't last longer. His voice was muffled, eyes barely open.

"E-Eli- c-com- coming-" he gasped.

He hadn't expected to be hilt-deep in Eli's throat when he came. Ky moaned into his palm, breathless, feeling overcome with the sensation. Eli let him finish before licking, lapping up his length. Ky trembled, shuddered.

"Fuck, Eli," he cried.

It was almost too much to have that hot, wet tongue on one side and the night's chill on the other. Ky whimpered, soft exhales as he seemed to try to come back to himself, held at bay by stimulation keeping him in the hazy drift.

"I- ahh- fuck… Fuck, Eli… You're so good-"

Eli leaned his head into Ky's thigh, frowned. Ky stroked through ashy hair, touch gentle as anything he ever did.

"Should….ahh.. should we go back inside? Or...would you like payback out here?"

"Payback…" Eli asked, smile amused. "Any worse way to phrase that?"

"Retribution?" Ky returned, cheeky.

Eli shook his head. "Ok, that is worse." He was quiet a long moment. "You're not paying me back."

Ky raised a brow.

"No? Ahh- that… That was... extremely good, though. I can't just-"

"Oh, hush. You're going to put me back in the room, don't make it worse."

Ky made a little huff.

"I wasn't, actually, I was going to...well… still am going, if you'll have it, just keep you with me."

"Hostage boyfriend, huh?"

Ky looked down, disappointed. "It… ah. It is, isn't it?"

"Oh, don't be sour about it. You did your best. It's a shit time. You made it less shit. It's still shit. You're still a gem."

Ky looked up at the stars. He exhaled, and moved to tuck himself back in. 

Eli's hands covered his own. "Let me," he said, eased him back together, zipped and buttoned him back up.

Ky sighed, sat back. "For what it's worth, I am sorry."

"Still, not letting me go, are you? Oh, I'll be good, I'll even say I beat you senseless, really gave it to you. I'll give you the bruises and everything."

Ky chuckled. "Why not just do that, for real?"

Eli didn't move his head from laying in his lap. "Comfortable."

"Ah." Ky chuckled. He was back to stroking through Eli's hair. He let out a low little hum. "Here, lie back," Ky said, guided him to turn.

Eli heaved up enough to do so, lay so he could stare straight up, and the stroking continued, little light scratches now and then to add variety, texture. He watched the lines smooth in Eli's face, watched him relax, and said nothing.

Eli didn't go back to the room that night, but then, neither did Ky.

[reciprocityfic]

newton’s third law, chapter 5

Title: Newton’s Third Law Fandom: The Walking Dead Pairing: Rick x Michonne Rating: M Summary: Post 8x08.  Michonne and Rick try to process what’s happening around them.

Author’s Note: This is it, guys! Thank you for reading and reviewing and taking this journey with me. When I first started getting flashes and ideas of this in my head, I never intended to write them down or put them into a story. But I'm glad I did, and I'm glad you all have enjoyed what is basically my version of 8x09 and 8x10. I hope I've done the story and these versions of Rick and Michonne justice in this final chapter.

Before I go, I'd like to give a shoutout to the songs that got me through writing during the times I thought I'd never finish this:

life and death - michael giacchino (chapters 1, 2, 3) arrival of the birds (piano cover) - david de miguel (chapters 2, 3, 4) roslyn - bon iver and st. vincent (chapter 4) alps - novo amor and ed tullett (chapter 5)

They're all absolutely gorgeous songs, and I totally recommend you check them out if you have the time.

Sorry for this novel of an author's note. Again, thank you for your reviews, encouragement, love, and support. I hope you enjoy the last chapter!

chapter one on tumblr, ao3, or ff.net chapter two on tumblr, ao3 or ff.net chapter three on tumblr, ao3 or ff.net chapter four on tumblr, ao3 or ff.net chapter five on ao3 or ff.net

chapter five: okay

She’s woken up the next morning by rays of morning sunlight shining in through the window, bright in her eyes and warm on her skin.

She squints, and brings one of her hands up to rub down her face.  As she starts to shed the heaviness of sleep from her mind, she registers the feeling of Rick wrapped around her.  She turns in his arms to face him.  His eyes are still closed, and his breathing is still steady and slow as he continues to sleep.  Lifting one of her hands again, she runs a fingertip lightly down the slant of his nose.  His face twitches, but he still isn’t roused, and she admires him for a few more quiet moments before pressing a kiss to his bare chest and turning back around in his embrace.

The light of the sun washes over her face again.  She finds she doesn’t resent it like she did the day before.

Her eyes flit closed, and she drifts in and out of a light doze before she feels Rick begin to shift behind her.  He presses two kisses onto her shoulder, and she turns again, to her other side.  She finds him looking at her, his blue eyes bleary and only open into slits, but he doesn’t look as tired as he did yesterday.  The dark circles under his eyes are gone, and some of the lines creasing his skin have eased, and she feels something stir inside her.

He leans forward, and places soft kisses to her hairline and each of her cheeks until capturing her lips in a kiss that’s longer and more firm.  When they separate, he pulls her closer to him as she slides up and nuzzles her face against his, closing her eyes.

“Mornin’,” he whispers to her.

“Morning yourself,” she whispers back.

They don’t say good morning, because the morning isn’t good.  Not with what they lost only hours ago.  And she knows the day won’t be good either.  Not yet.  It might take a long time for the mornings and days to be good again, and they might not even be better, at least for awhile.  But she has him, now.  They’re together.

And she feels something stirring inside her.  She can’t really identify it, but it’s one of the few things in the past two days that doesn’t feel bad.

When she pulls her eyelids open again, the thin, red line on his cheek catches her gaze, and holds it hostage as a frown takes over her mouth and regretful sorrow clenches at her heart.

She passes her fingers over the place where she sliced him with her katana, the crusty bumps of the scab that’s formed gently scraping at her skin.

When she doesn’t speak, he murmurs, “It’s okay, Michonne.”

She shakes her head, still staring at the mark.

“No, it’s not.”

“It’s not like you meant to do it.”

“You could’ve gotten infected.”

As she thinks about it now, she doesn’t know how he managed to not get infected, with all the blood and guts that coated the blade of her sword.

He lifts one of his hands and holds it over hers on his cheek, stilling her fingers.

“But I didn’t,” he tells her.

She finally manages to tear her gaze from his injury, and finds him looking at her with soft eyes.  He gives her the slightest smile.

“I didn’t get infected, and you didn’t die trying to take down that herd.  Let’s just take our wins, instead of punishing ourselves for the losses we think we deserved.”

She’s quiet as she lets his words sink into her brain, and she knows he’s talking about more than him avoiding infection and her not getting herself killed.  He’s talking about Carl, too, and Alexandria, and Sasha, and Glenn and Abraham, and Lori, and Andre and Mike, and all the things that have been taken from them.

She nods slowly, and then buries her face in the crook of his neck.  They lay there on her pallet of blankets, quiet and intertwined, breathing together.  The sun shines in through the window and caresses their skin, and she’s glad for it.

After a little while, she kisses the underside of his jaw.

“We should go to The Hilltop.  They’re probably worried about us.  And I’m sure Judy misses us.”

“I miss Judy,” he says, and she hums in agreement.

“Then let’s go see her.”

He pulls her body closer to his as she stretches and slides her toes along his shin, before releasing her.  He begins to get up, but she wraps her hand around his upper arm before he can stand.  He pauses and looks down at her in question.

“We’ll have to tell Enid,” she says solemnly.  “And Maggie.  Carol, when we see her.  Aaron and Morgan.”

He nods once, and reaches out to tuck a few of her locs behind her ear.

“We will.  We’ll tell them together,” he promises.

Together.

She leans up and kisses him once more, and then they rise, going to their room and showering quickly before pulling on fresh clothes.  They grab backpacks and throw in some spare shirts and underwear, before entering the kitchen and packing up all the food they have left, and then make a loop around the house and take everything they see that could be useful.  Before they walk out the door, she runs into the dining room and grabs the wire cat he got her at the junkyard from its place on the china cabinet.

When she rejoins him, he looks at metal sculpture she’s holding and sends her a sideways glance.

“Hey, I lost the last one at the prison,” she defends.  “I’m not losing her, too.  Plus, I like this one more than that one.”

“More that the last one?” he questions, raising his eyebrows.  “The colorful one is more you.  This one’s a lot...duller.”

She shrugs.

“Yeah, but I’m kinda fond of the person who gave me this one.”

She swears she almost sees the ghost of a real smile pass over his face for a second.  And something stirs inside her.

They start towards the door again, but he stops suddenly, mumbling shit under his breath as he turns and jogs up the stairs.

When he comes back down, he’s holding the framed picture of Carl and Judith he keeps on their dresser in one hand, and Carl’s hat in the other.

She pauses, and then takes a deep breath as she steps forward, trailing her fingers over the brim of the hat.

Her eyes lock with Rick’s, and  then they turn to leave once again.

They sneak out through the back door, because they’ve had enough of the walkers gathered at the foot of the porch, but when they round the corner of the house they find the walkers gone, only a couple of stragglers milling about in the front yard.  She can hear moans off in the distance.  Something must’ve caught their attention overnight.

One corner of her mouth lifts briefly as she stares at the empty street.

They stop at Carl’s and Judith’s spot before continuing on.  She stands back as he makes his way to Carl’s grave, watching him as he kneels down and bows his head as he closes his eyes.  A few minutes pass before he opens them again, lifting his head back up.  After he does, he turns to look at her, and extends his arm.

“Come ‘ere,” he beckons her.

Her heart skips a beat as that same something continues to stir and bubble inside her, and she walks toward him, kneeling next to him, in front of the cross he placed at the head of Carl’s grave.  Their shoulders brush against each other.

They don’t speak right away, but eventually Rick whispers into the still air between them.

“He’s yours, too.  You know that, right?”

She turns to look at him, and finds him staring back at her with a love so severe that her eyes well with tears.

She does know that, deep in her heart.  Carl had referred to himself as her kid on more than one occasion.  And she and Rick had never spoken about it, but she still knew that he thought of Carl and Judith as their kids.  She saw it in his eyes every time he watched her interact with them.

But to hear him say it, so plainly and so openly.  It fills her with such an overwhelming joy that she can barely breathe.  And it means so much to her.  It means everything to her.

“He’s been yours for a long time,” he continues.  “Hell, he’s probably been yours since the day we went to King County and you two came back with that crazy cat.  And he looked up at me and told me you were one of us.”

She smiles, and it squeezes the tears from the corners of her eyes.  He touches her face, and catches and stops their path with his fingers.

“I know,” she says as she nods, her voice unsteady.  “I know.”

“You weren’t just his friend, ‘Chonne,” he tells her.  “You’re more than his friend.  You’re his mom.  And you’re Judith’s mom.  She’s yours, too.”

She nods again, but she can’t find her voice this time.  Overcome, she leans into his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around her.

“They’re ours,” he murmurs.  “Both of them are ours, and they always will be.  No matter what.”

She scoots closer to him, and inhales deeply as her heart drowns in love for Rick and their children.

They’re ours.

And something inside her stirs and stirs.

Rick grabs the sheriff’s hat from where he placed it on the ground beside him, and hangs it off of the top point of the wooden cross.

“You’re not gonna take it with us?” she questions.

He shakes his head.

“I don’t think so.  I’m gonna...I think I’ll leave it here.  It’s his, you know?  It’s still his.  It’ll always be his.”

She lifts her hand, and touches the soft felt of the hat again.

“And then, people will know this is him,” Rick tells her.  “Whenever anyone walks by here, they’ll know it’s Carl.  And it’ll make them think of him.  Remember him.  He deserves people’s memories.”

“He does,” she agrees, nodding once.

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

She turns her head and finds Rick looking at her, slight insecurity etched in his features.  She places her hand on his thigh, and squeezes.

“Yeah, I do.  I like it a lot.”

He grips her forearm for a moment, and then switches his gaze back to the cross.  He closes his eyes as he inhales, long and careful, before opening them again and exhaling as he wraps his fingers over one of the branches of the cross.  She hears the whooshing sound of air as it rushes between his lips.

“I love you,” he says softly, speaking to their son.  “I love you with everything I am.  We both do.  And we’ll love you forever.  I miss you already, so much.  I’ve missed you every moment since you left, and I’ll miss you every second for the rest of my life.  Everything I’ve ever done, I’ve done for you, and that won’t change.  Everything I do in the future, I’ll do for you.  I’ll win this war, and raise Judith, and be with Michonne, and take care of the rest of our family.  And we have to go now, but we’ll be back.  We’ll build Alexandria back up, make it home again.  We’ll always be here with you.  And even...even if it ends up we can’t fix it, we’ll always come back to you, and be with you.  We’ll bring Judy with us, and Enid, and whoever else wants to come.  I promise you, we’ll always come back, no matter what.  I promise you.”

He leans down, and kisses the top of Carl’s hat.

“I love you,” he breathes.

She feels herself crying at Rick’s speech, and she wipes at her eyes.

He sits upright again, and they both take awhile to sit there with Carl, minds playing back all their memories of him.  Memories that they’ll hold onto for the rest of their lives, with everything they are.  With every inch of their souls.

When she hears Rick begin to move, she speaks.

“Can I have a moment with him?”

“Of course,” he says, hugging her into his side and pressing his lips against her hair before getting up, and she watches him walk to the edge of the grass.  When he stops, she turns back around, and slides the tip of her forefinger down the length of the center of the cross, a small, bittersweet smile gracing her face.

“Hey, buddy,” she whispers, a stray tear falling down her cheek.

She doesn’t know what she wants to say, exactly.

She wants to tell Carl how much she loves him, and how much she misses him, just as Rick did.  She wants to tell him that he’ll always be in her heart, that she thinks of him always.  How she hopes he’s happy, and that every speck of pain and suffering he ever suffered has healed so completely that he can’t even remember what it used to feel like.  That she hopes he’s been reunited with everyone he’s ever lost, that he’s hanging out with Glenn and Sophia and Noah and Beth, catching up with Sasha and Hershel and Abraham and Tyreese and all the other people that aren’t here on Earth anymore.  She hopes he’s with his mother, that he’s spending all the time with her he should’ve had, that the hole in his heart that formed when she died is gone, not a trace of it left behind.

She hopes he’s met Andre, that they’re friends and brothers now.  She wants to ask him to take care of her baby.  She wants to tell him that she already knows he is.

But words are evading her, and she’s afraid she won’t be able to convey everything she feels.  That she won’t be able to create something beautiful like Rick did.

She wants to tell him and she and his dad are together.  They’re heartbroken, and they miss him so much that it physically aches, but they’re together.  That they’ll be here for each other, and help each other, and find a way to sort through their pain side by side.  They’ll put each other back together again, piece by piece.

She wants to tell him that it will take awhile to stop hurting, and crying, and grieving.  It might take a long time, but they won’t give up.  They’ll keep going, keep fighting to mend their hearts, and someday, they’ll be able to wake up and smile.

She can’t manage to say it, though.  Her throat is caught, and it makes her hesitate and stop and start.  She begins to grow frustrated, but then Rick’s words pop into her head.  He told Carl that they’d come back - that they’ll always come back to him - and he’s right.

She realizes that she doesn’t have to say it all today.  They have to leave right now, but they’ll be here again.  She can speak to Carl in bits, tell him something new every time she sees him.  She can take her time, and consider her every word so she can be sure it means everything she wants it to.

She guess that he already knows it all, anyways.  That he can see what she’s thinking and feeling, now.  But she still needs to say it herself.  To tell him out loud.

So for today, she leaves him with a simple thought, but maybe the most important one she has.  The one she wants Carl to be sure of above everything else.

“We’re going to be okay,” she whispers to him, digging her fingers into the still-lose dirt below her and turning her face up towards the sky.  “I promise you, we’re going to be okay.”

The sun washes over her skin, and a warm, pleasant breeze blows blows in the softest way, swathing her body.  Something stirs inside her, and she still can’t pinpoint exactly what it is.  But she knows that it’s good, and not bad.  And she thinks it might be the first strings of a step in the right direction gently twining together in her stomach, the starting line of the journey towards hope beginning to grow.

She bends and presses her lips to the top of Carl’s hat in a kiss, in the same spot where Rick did the same, and murmurs her love to him twice more.

After taking a moment to gather herself, she stands and walks in slow steps over to Rick.  As she stops in front of him, he strokes her cheek, and she brushes her lips against his palm before he drops his arm back to his side.

“You ready?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she tells him.  “I am.”

He reaches out, and holds her hand.

A/N: And they all lived happily ever after forever and ever the end.

The line, "We're going to be okay. I promise you, we're going to be okay," is from This Is Us 2x15. It's an incredible show, and you should watch it if you aren't already.

I'm sick, so reviews would make me happy.

Thanks for everything, my dears! Hope to show up with something new soon.

xoxo, Rebekah

[turntabletokyo-blog]

Make Love Not War: Chapter 1

(Note: I don’t have an AO3 account right now, so I’ll just be posting my fics on here and then posting them back on there later, feel free to leave any comments!) Summary: Steve has been missing for two months after El closed the gate and the Snow Ball took place. While the rest of the town copes, Billy continues to convince himself that he doesn’t give a shit. ______________________________________________________________

It's been two months since Steve had gone missing, posters rested on telephone polls and outside of school walls, questioning where he might have went. His disappearance was grim, but in reality, life in Hawkins continued on as it usually did. The only peoples lives who had fallen to less than simply default were the ones who cared about him, and this honestly showed who that was. Because despite the masses of people who kissed Steve's ass while he was present and high on the high-school food chain. They did so to gain cred or impress him, or impress other people, or maybe just to impress themselves. Despite all that, most of those people couldn't try less to find out what had happened to him.

Though, the people who were really involved with him of course have been struggling and brainstorming and grieving this entire time. Nancy, the children, the parents of said children, Jonathan, Hopper. But each of those people knew what it really meant when someone went missing in Hawkins, Indiana. So that glum heavy feeling in Hawkins rested upon their shoulders entirely, and so did the responsibility to do something about it.

Billy didn't care, or, at least that's what he convinced himself, every time he saw the aforementioned Kings stupid face plastered outside the school he took it upon himself to tear it down in disgust. As far as he told himself, he didn't know what had happened to Steve and he didn't care. This mulleted asshole continued on his days as if nothing had happened. Going on sleazy dates which consisted only of cigarettes, car speakers and booze breath smooches in the front seats of his Camaro. 

He also continues to lay in his room and spin thrash metal records while disguising any thoughts he has in a hazy cloud of smoke. He had hardened himself long ago, become cold and callous, and been doing it for long enough to avoid any feelings of care for a boy he knew he fully despised.

________________________________________________________________

After sucking in a heavy puff of smoke on an overcast, mid-Monday. He decided to step out his room. Maybe go pump some iron downstairs, or watch whatever crappy flick is on TV. Though, once outside, it was hard to avoid hearing the low yet frantic voice of his step-sister yelling into what he could only assume was the walkie talkie he'd seen her holding previously. 

"No Dustin! Who knows where he could be or how we're going to get there. I say we just follow Mike's game plan and leave tomorrow night. We need to get this over with.

"Game plan? Billy was as thick as a world almanac so his first attempt at understanding was entirely unsuccessful. 

"I know Lucas.. I miss him too. And if no one else is going to bother helping to find him then we just HAVE TO do it ourselves."

Oh my god. Billy couldn't help it, actually he wasn't quite sure why he did this. It was honestly just a visceral reaction for him to slam the door open with his foot. Something he hadn't done in a long while. 

Max, jumped at the sound, eyes wide but hand still tightly wrapped around the walkie. After her initial moment of shock she narrowed her eyes in confusion and contempt almost giving Billy a "what the fuck do you want" look. This girl has known for months now that she has absolutely no reason to fear him, and he knew that as well. So why did he take the liberty to kick the door open? What was he hoping to accomplish? And what he had wondered: why had that conversation even caused him to care. 

But, Billy was nothing if not confident, so he continued on as he had originally intended. "Game plan? Let me get this straight little red riding “good”. Are you trying to find the shit lord who disappeared?"

Max stood up, she instinctually was holding down the microphone of the walkie, but the kids knew to keep their mouths shut on the other ends. "Shit lord?" She spat out with a surprised smirk. "Are you serious, Billy?" 

Max and Billy hadn't spoken as fully as this ever since she pulled her stunt, everything after then had been angry huffs and threatening eye contact. She carried on, "He's been gone for two months. Don't treat this like it means nothing, I don’t care that you liked fighting him in basketball practice." She wrung out that last sentence in a mocking tone. "Don't be an idiot." 

A small "Oooh" echoed through the walkie from the silly hat sporting boy.

Billy's face turned rage red and a few veins threatened to pop out his neck as he had to hold back from reacting to this kind of behavior. Previously, he may have stepped forward and toward her, responding, "What did you just say to me you little shit?" and grabbing her walkie from her hand only to crack it under the weight of his favorite pair of boots, but he knew better than that now. He ignored the kid on the other line and used his rage to continue his interrogation through and through. "You're really going to go looking for someone who's been kidnapped? In Hawkins? Do you guys think you're the fucking Scooby Gang? If he could have been found at this point then police would have done it." He snapped out. Knowing the weight of his words, but taking in his typical sadistic pleasure of them as well. 

Yet, for some reason, the harsh past-tense he used, as if Steve was long gone... maybe gnawed at him a bit? Causing a slight sting around his... chest region. No, he just understood it (or rather, convinced himself) that that was purely his hatred for Steve shining through.

Now, Max knew Billy knew absolutely zilch about the upside-down. And she wasn't going to go telling her deranged socio-brother about another dimension hoping he would be completely understanding. The thought of him listening, placing his hand on his chin like a well-trained psychiatrist and attempting to understand and empathize with her story is almost more insane than she thought Lucas to be when he first told her.

Saddened by his words, and giving up on Billy at this moment, she looked down, letting the walkie lay limp by her side and dangle along with her thoughts.

"We know that. But... look you wouldn't understand." 

Billy crossed his arms, finally having calmed down. "Why? Oh!" He said mockingly, "Is it because I'm an idiot?" 

Max similarly crossed her arms, then caught herself mirroring Billy's actions and uncrossed them quickly."No. You wouldn't understand because... It's what he would've done for us, and we have no frickin' clue where he could be." Anger slowly welled up in her eyes, lips pursing, but she held it together and pushed everything out in the form of a yelling cry instead: "He could be kidnapped, or held hostage, or in frickin' China! or maybe he's a car salesman now! And he just forgot to tell us," She bit her lip "Or maybe he's... dead" (a small gasp fell from the walkie, surprisingly she was still holding the button.) Mad Max interrupted herself with a brief pause and then recollected. "He could be ANYTHING! And we're not going to just leave it, so I swear to god." She took a step forward, balling her fist and looking straight into eyes, unafraid. "If you try and stop us." She dropped her eyelids after this statement, eyes darkening, as if to express "we won't hesitate." 

Despite the size difference, Max actually managed to pull out a subtle, drugged and unhappy memory from Billy’s mind so he moved back a step and held up his hands in a white flag position, almost shocked. "Go ahead. I'm not gonna' fuckin' stop you, but, just know." He leaned forward, continuing this dance of aggressor vs. aggressor. "He probably is dead". 

Max's eyed widened fists pulled in tighter, inhaling quickly through her nose in shock. But she was shocked at the words, not that Billy said them. So she backed down, and sped back to her bed after realizing the tantrum wouldn't be worth it. Through sheer wisdom, she realized that her anger would be better directed toward trying to find her friend.

Billy backed off, but after pacing toward his room, slamming the door shut behind him and igniting another cigarette between his fingers as quick as possible, those last words which escaped his lips swirled around the back of his mind. He desperately attempted to avoid them. He felt that glum heavy feeling weigh down on him too. 

[imaginingsvt]

Three:Project Shining Diamond

// what was originally supposed to be a scenario turned into this instead? inspired and based off this video HERE. all credits for the video go to @hoon-seok

// warnings: fighting everywhere omg how many times do i have to warn this, mentions of drugs, mentions of murder, is prison a warning??, holding people hostage?

// sneak peek: “Seungcheol?” And it all goes to Hell. It’s Y/N. It’s Y/N’s voice. She’s crying, sobbing on the phone, heavy breathing and choked cries as loud as the heart pounding fast in S.Coups’ chest. He knows it’s Y/N - he’s only fallen in love with that voice too many times. “Seungcheol? Are… are you there? Please. Please, Cheol… help me.”

// seungcheol x reader

// word count: 2445

// PROLOGUE | ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR (FINAL) |

   After the occurrence of meeting Bangtan Boys and being handed the USB in which S.Coups later listened to with Woozi, he’d decided two things.

  The first thing he’d decided was that nobody was to know of what was on that USB.

  S.Coups had listened to the single audio file on it again, and again, and again. He’d listened to it until he memorized the poem, until he could pinpoint the exact moments in which Y/N let out a choked sob, breathed heavily in, made her voice crack. He’d listened to it until it was burned into his memory like an annoying song on the radio that looped on for infinity. He’d listened to it until it’d become his worst nightmare, and tinged every single part of his brain in a dark soulless color that could resonate only the sound of his deepest love’s sorrow and fear.

  And after Seungcheol had memorized the downright sound wave of that heart aching audio file, he’d thrown the entire USB into a burning flame he’d lit on his very desk. The action had been in fear and dread, and Seungcheol could still feel the hot tears rolling down his cheeks as Jeonghan’s loud scolding filled his ears, trying to put out the fire that had already eaten away at his desk and the only remnants of the person he loved so dearly.

  Jihoon had sworn he wouldn’t tell anyone about the audio file, albeit in hesitance, and Seungcheol felt a pang of guilt in his chest every time they accidentally shared eye contact.

  The others were, of course, curious about the sudden change in attitude from both of them as well as the desk fire once they’d heard about it, but Seungcheol had done his best to assure them that nothing was wrong. The last thing he needed was for the rest of the gang to be in the same constant state of depression and paranoia that he himself was experiencing at this moment. Besides, wasn’t it S.Coups’ job as a leader to take the burden?

  The second thing he’d decided was that it was time to stay low.

  Everybody in Seventeen was instructed to fall off the grid. Attracting attention to the gang was forbidden, picking fights with others found punishable. And while some were annoyed and disappointed of the new rules (Joshua, Dino, and DK to only name a few), others were glad for the break granted after the stress and initial gloom of no longer having Y/N around with them.

  Of course, this second decision didn’t go exactly as planned, if even at all.

  The first day these new rules had been established, Seungcheol had received a rather anxious phone call from Seungkwan, who was asking for backup after they’d indulged themselves in a fight with a rival gang, BLACKPINK. S.Coups could still remember the nerves in Seungkwan’s voice as he spoke.

  “S.Coups,” He’d breathed out at the time. Seungcheol could hear shouting and muttering in the background. “I… we… we need a favor. I know you said we had to stay low and lay off the fighting but… well, we’re kind of stuck here.” S.Coups had gritted his teeth.

  “If you’re gonna say something, Seungkwan, you better say it quick. I’m not about to let you waste my time after you disobeyed my rules.” There’d been a pause on the other end.

  “Vernon, Dino, and I… we’re in a fight with BLACKPINK. Three against four, S.Coups. These girls don’t play nice either. We need backup, we’re really getting our asses kicked.” The faint sound of police sirens and shouts for help from his own members in the background had startled Seungcheol. In fact, it had startled him enough to momentarily forget his anger and fury towards the three boys.

  “I’m sending Joshua and Mingyu. Let this happen again, Seungkwan, and I’ll kick your ass.” The second time somebody disobeyed Seungcheol’s rules, it’d only a few days after the previous incident with BLACKPINK.

  The news was delivered to him in an ill tempered tone from Mingyu on a late night when he said, “Attempted murder and massive bank robbery. Jeonghan and Joshua are in prison right now. Our sources say we need to get them out fast before they uncover the entirety of Seventeen.” In a span of two and a half hours, Seungcheol had come up with a foolproof plan to get both of his members out of prison the next morning that involved bringing the whole gang together - a risk, but one S.Coups was willing to take to save his family.

  When the event of the actual escape came along, the gang was divided into three different groups: S.Coups, Jun, Woozi, Mingyu, and THE8 in Team A, Hoshi, DK, and Seungkwan in Team B, and Wonwoo, Vernon, and Dino in Team C. With that, each team was assigned a truck as they headed to the prison in an anxious and excited bunch.

  Wonwoo, whose team was currently ahead of everyone else’s, got excited when he saw the gates of the prison drawing nearer and nearer, and he could only barely make out the sight of people in the courtyard, lumbering around in their enclosed, miserable state.

  “Floor it.” Dino’s voice is just barely audible over the anticipation of getting Jeonghan and Joshua out of prison, but there’s no mistaking the smile in his voice. Wonwoo takes a steady breath, licks his lips, and then presses hard on the gas, the truck lurching forward at a heart racing pace. Team B, who’s right behind them, doesn’t take the time to watch the truck’s sudden speed before they’re racing forward as well. It’s Team A who takes precaution in the territory of the prison.

  Vernon, who’s sitting in the passenger seat of Team C, feels his heart creeping increasingly faster up his chest and throat, his teeth grinding harder together as the gate comes closer, and closer, and - it crashes open as the truck hits it at full speed.

  There’s a moment’s hesitation in the prison, a moment when all the inmates and guards are stunned at what’s happened, but Team C takes no time to waste as they open their doors and start firing with guns and other dangerous weapons. It’s almost like a knock-off James Bond movie in slow motion before everyone else seems to have come back to life in a few seconds. And then it’s chaotic.

  Team B has pulled up behind Team C, firing anything they can at the guards as well to keep them distracted. There’s inmates everywhere - some fleeing through the open spaces of the gate, some trying to get inside the trucks, others fighting against the trucks, and even some running back to the prison itself.

  Dino catches the sight of Jeonghan in the crowd - the only male with long black hair that’s strolling casually through the chaotic scene with a charming smile on his face. Joshua is not far behind him, laughing in joy as if he’s witnessing a comedic theater act.

  “Hurry the hell up!” Dino shouts loudly. They don’t have time to act this out like it’s some kind of made up story. “We can’t wait up on a couple of pretty boys!” Jeonghan tsks loud enough so Dino can hear, and Joshua laughs.

  “Is that anyway to speak to your elders?” Joshua chastises. Jeonghan laughs as they walk past Team C’s truck, heading for Team A. Jeonghan frowns at the annoyed expression on Chan’s face.

  “Oh, come on, Dino. You look so much more handsome with a smile. Come on, who’s baby are you?” Dino rolls his eyes and goes back to firing at the guards. They drive back after they’ve gotten the signal from S.Coups, and both Jeonghan and Joshua alternate from changing trucks at least six times on the way back to base.

  And despite all the trouble they’d gone through as a team to save Jeonghan, Joshua, and Seventeen as a whole, it seems like it’s almost done for nothing. Because just the next day, Seungcheol receives a tip from the same source as last time that Woozi is being suspected of some gang related crimes that could earn him an entire life sentence in prison. S.Coups is forced to have Jihoon fall off the grid for a couple weeks to clear everything up.

  And a couple days after that, S.Coups gets word of an old gang murder and finds out Jun and THE8 are the top suspects, which, as it turns out, S.Coups himself can remember giving them the order for the murders just some months ago. It’s almost as if somebody is purposely trying to get the entirety of Seventeen in trouble.

  Seungcheol is almost sure of the fact when he has to pull a favor from a crooked cop after Hoshi, Wonwoo, and DK are caught smuggling drugs across the border to Russia, Japan, and China. It would’ve been one of their biggest sales, had it not been for the mysterious snitch.

  But S.Coups is grateful, because it’s at this moment that everything begins to calm down. There’s been no trouble from authorities, other gangs, and the like, and all the members have managed to stay at base together for the past four days.

  The clock in Seungcheol’s office strikes 12:02 in the morning when he receives a phone call for the first time in four days. He’s tired, exasperated at the assumption that somebody’s gotten in trouble again, and S.Coups doesn’t answer at first as he picks at the burnt pieces of material on his desk, insomnia eating away at him like the dark melody of the poem that won’t stop repeating itself in his mind. The phone stops ringing, and there’s a faint echo of the sound still lingering in the room. But before it’s gone, his phone is ringing again, and Seungcheol can hear it louder than before, can feel the annoyance panging at his mind’s eye.

  Something of a growl and a grunt come rasping from his throat at the same time as S.Coups picks up the phone with tremendous frustration, a knot in his chest winding up all the stress and anxiety he’s felt these past weeks.

  “What is it this time?” Seungcheol all but shouts into the phone, anger gnawing away at the annoyance in his mind. But it all soon fades away as fast as its crept upon him, because S.Coups can hear choked crying and quiet sobbing on the other line. His eyebrows fall from their angered knit and he’s suddenly worried about the person on the other end.

  “Seungcheol?” And it all goes to Hell. It’s Y/N. It’s Y/N’s voice. She’s crying, sobbing on the phone, heavy breathing and choked cries as loud as the heart pounding fast in S.Coups’ chest. He knows it’s Y/N - he’s only fallen in love with that voice too many times. “Seungcheol? Are… are you there? Please. Please, Cheol… help me.”

  “Y/N?” Seungcheol can’t help but let his tone of voice fall into something desperate and worried, and he’s clutching the phone with both hands, almost like he’s afraid somebody will take it away from him any moment now. “Y/N, what’s going on? Where are you? Are you okay?” A loud sob comes from the reception, and it’s nothing like S.Coups has ever heard before. He finds his heart aching at the sound, can feel his entire being deteriorate at the sound of the person he’s loved so much… in so much pain.

  “Seungcheol, please.” The sobbing is getting progressively louder and more desperate. “I need help! Help me! I’m - I’m alone. Nobody can help me. I just want to go home!” Then there’s the sound of hyperventilating, and Seungcheol quickly sits back in his chair.

  “Y/N, calm down. It’s okay, alright? You know I’ll always help you. Just tell me where you are. Tell me where you are, and we’ll be there as soon as we can.” There’s a long pause, one that almost frightens him that the call’s been ended, but then the voice is there again.

  “It’s - It’s a carnival! Some miles away from Bangtan Boys’ base. AKMU knows where it’s at. Just please, Cheol! Come help me! Some gang - they’ve got me hostage! I need help!” There’s a strange pause before Y/N repeats her last sentence in the same exact manner and tone before it cuts altogether and a long beep follows afterwards. Seungcheol slams the phone back down before he finds his heart is racing faster than it’s ever done before.

  In an anxious manner, S.Coups runs both hands through his hair, holds his face as he finds he’s hyperventilating just as Y/N was before, and he’s confused and reeling with a thousand emotions clogging his rational mind all at the same time. Seungcheol slams open the door of his office faster than his mind can tell him not to, and he finds a few of the boys are sitting around a table, a game of poker momentarily forgotten as they stared at their frantic leader.

  “Supplies, weapons, we need it all! It all goes in the vans! Wake up everyone! We’re leaving now!” They sit there in shock for a couple seconds. “Did you hear me? I said we’re leaving now! Get the hell up, and get everyone and everything to the vans! We need to save Y/N!” At once, they’re up from their seats, some rushing to the dorms to awaken those sleeping, and others scurrying to the weapon and supply rooms.

  It’s not ‘til almost everyone is outside waiting in the vans that Seungcheol realizes he’s been too lost in his anxious and frantic manner to see that Woozi was the only one left inside the base besides him. The boy is staring at him, arms crossed with an expression of worry on his face.

  “Should we really leave today, S.Coups?” Seungcheol’s at a loss for words, sentences reeling in his mouth with ideas and thoughts of what Y/N might be tomorrow if they don’t arrive today.

  “Of course we’re leaving today! We have to save her! She’s our family.” A look of hurt falls over Woozi’s face. He steps closer, pulls his coat tighter around his body.

  “S.Coups… it’s the first of October.” An entire poem that Seungcheol has been muttering like a torturous mantra suddenly comes rushing back to him with an impact like a train hitting his entire body.

  S.Coups feels his heart drop to his stomach.

//admin miely//

[marymosley]

The Aftermath of Marital Rape – Need for Legal Reform

Since time immemorial, the women have always been treated as the asset of their Husbands and Fathers. Our Society has failed to realize the fact that women are not subordinate to men. Women are still expected to live according to the whims and fancies of the men in their lives. Even the millennium year has not been able to bring about any noticeable change, leave alone metamorphosis in the thought process of man, woman, mankind and humankind. Even though tremendous, nay stupendous strides have been made in the technological advancement which has made this era, an era of mechanised living, yet our legal system does not acknowledge the need to recognize the existence of MARITAL RAPE. The definition of ‘Rape’, as per Section 375 of the Indian Penal Code (Act XLV) of 1860, includes every type of sexual assault. However, the Exception to Section 375 lays down that “Sexual Intercourse or Sexual Acts by a man with his own wife, the wife not being under fifteen years of age, is not rape.” This immunizes such acts from prosecution under the Indian Legal System.

  MARITAL RAPE

Any sexual intercourse between husband and wife without wife’s consent is called Marital Rape. The act of cohabitation against the will of the wife is a heinous offence, and cannot be condoned just because the husband has been brought up in a society with a mindset that it is the right of the husband to cohabit wherever and whenever he so desires. In India, one of the reasons is that the patriarchal system of the Indian society is followed by most of the people right from the earliest civilizations, i.e., the times of Indus Valley.

Wives are not the assets of their husbands. But in our society, marriage, in a way, gives men the ‘License to Rape’ with their wives. Marriage should not be seen as a permit for unconsented sexual intercourse. It is not an obligation. A woman does not give up her liberty to say a “no”, the day she gets married. Everyone has a right on their body more than anyone else. Sex should only be with the mutual consent, love, caring, and clear communication.

Sex, after marriage, is not an obligation, in fact, it should be consensual. It is a way to express love, care, affection and devotion towards each other. It cannot be forced by any means, i.e., it should not be:

  Force Only Rape: Men believe that marriage is the sanction by the society, to do anything, with the one whom they got married with, in order to fulfill their whims and fancies by doing anything. If a husband holds his wife down, pushes her, or inflicts pain by hurting her in performing coitus against her will, it amounts to a sexual assault. Making love doesn’t include making someone cry or forcing someone as per your own will.

·   Battering Rape: If the husband forces sex by threatening the woman to cause harm to her or to the people or things she cares about, or if he comes to her in a barely contained rage, she cannot give her consent. She can only comply rather than putting the people under threat or danger either physically or emotionally.

·  Sex By Manipulation: If a husband accuses his wife for not being a good wife, or blackmails her emotionally by saying that she is so bad in bed that he will look for other means outside to satisfy himself, then he is manipulating her. Some men even threaten to leave her alone and take the kids with him if their wives do not comply with their demands for sex. When a wife is forced to fall for these orchestrations, it cannot be called that she has given her consent, rather, it amounts to rape.

·  Sex Without Wife’s Consent: Loving sex is actually consensual. If a woman is drugged, asleep, intoxicated or unconscious, i.e., she is not in her senses, she obviously cannot give her free consent. She cannot think as a reasonable person in such situations. Even if she says a “yes” in such circumstances, the “consent” isn’t free, valid or truthful.

·     Sex By Taking A Woman Hostage: Some men maintain their superior position and keep a check on their wives that they make it almost impossible for her to contact her family without his consent that she cannot even step out of the house because of the fear of the husband. Their wives are not allowed to have a friend circle to share their problems. The women are kept as hostage in their own home. Like many hostages, she gives up, and gives in to whatever he wants — including sex.

·    Sex When The Woman Feels She Has No Choice: Giving in should not be considered the same as giving consent. When a woman is left with no choice but to surrender, this amounts to sexual assault.

  REASONS BEHIND MARITIAL RAPE

The reasons behind Marital Rapes are:-                    

·        The economic dependency of women on their husbands and in-laws,

·        Traditional rules which require her to surrender irrespective of her choice,

·        Widespread gender inequality, and

·        The Patriarchal set up of our Society.

  LEGAL POSITION OF MARITAL RAPE

Many Countries, including United Kingdom, United States of America, Australia and Austria have criminalized Marital Rape. But various Countries have still not criminalized Marital Rape like India, China, Singapore, Malaysia, Algeria, and many more. This is a testament to the fact that India is still holding onto an archaic and regressive law. It is illogical, ethically and morally wrong. Rape is an unacceptable crime irrespective of a woman is married or not. It is a crime against humanity and it must be punishable.

In Bodhisattwa Gautam v. Subhra Chakraborty, 1996 SCC (1) 490, the Hon’ble Supreme Court said that “rape is a crime against basic human rights and a violation of the victim’s most cherished of Fundamental Rights, namely, the Right to Life enshrined in Article 21 of the Constitution.” Yet it neutralizes this Judgement by not recognizing Marital Rape.

The latest Judgement by the Gujarat High Court in Nimeshbhai Bharatbhai Desai vs. State of Gujarat, 2018 SCC OnLine Guj 732, termed Marital Rape as a ‘disgraceful offence’, and elaborately dealt with the issue of Marital Rape stating that, “making wife rape illegal or an offence will remove the destructive attitudes that promote the Marital Rape”; however, since the Marital Rape is not recognized as a crime under the Indian Legal System, the Court held that the husband is liable only for outraging her modesty and unnatural sex.

Similarly, the Hon’ble Supreme Court, in Independent Thought vs. Union of India and Anr, (2017) 10 SCC 800, has criminalized sexual intercourse with a minor wife aged between 15 to 18 years, but has refrained from making any declaration regarding the Marital Rape of a woman who is above 18 years of age.

  CONCLUSION

It is one of the significant questions as to why Marital Rape, despite being one of the most heinous crimes one can commit against a woman, has failed to gain recognition in the eyes of the law. There is an immediate need for criminalization of Marital Rape under the Indian Penal Code (Act XLV) of 1860. It is also exigent to spread the awareness in the masses about this crime, as the real objective behind the criminalizing Marital Rape can only be achieved if the society recognizes and challenges the prevailing myth that rape by one’s spouse is nugatory.

Marital Rape derogates the respect, honour and dignity of a woman as a human being. It reduces her to a personal possession for the slavery and pleasure, to a living corpse, under the fear of hurt and injury. It has been proved by medical evidences that rape has severe and long lasting consequences for women. It is necessary to outlaw such perverse sexual acts. Hence, Criminalizing Marital Rape is the need of the hour to regain the trust and confidence in the institution of marriage.

  Navin Kumar Jaggi

Sayesha Suri

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