#I very rarely draw with another person present so it was very entertaining

[nightlyrequiem]

Latrodectus

I. To Be Human

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

AO3

Latrodectus Mactans, otherwise known as the Black Widow, are known for their uncouth treatment of their partners. The 'widow' part of their name stemming from the common occurrence of the female devouring her partner after mating.

Tags/Warnings: Abduction, Violence, Emotional Manipulation, harassment, A Dabble of Psychological Torture, Drugging, Breaking And Entering, Fem!reader

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There is something wrong with Valeria Garza. Something deep inside of her that went unchecked during adolescence and festered into something rotten. While the other children played manhunt in the woods behind the school, Valeria was pulling apart the carcasses of stray animals. Feeding that part of her that desired to know what went on in the inside of a body. A vulture in her own right. She was born without something her peers had, and that set up the perfect breeding ground for resentment. She didn't quite yet understand what it was that made her so different. Or why it, in the eyes of the other children, meant she was undeserving of companionship.

Rarely did Valeria crave the attention or approval of another. Even with her missing pieces Valeria knew she was simply better than the others. It aggravated her to no end that nobody else seemed to understand that. There are, however, four people that Valeria... fixated on. Marie Sanchez lived only five houses down from her. Little Valeria would follow her around the playground. Making vain attempt after vain attempt to gain her affection and friendship. That flame slowly fizzled out once they reached high school and Valeria's idolization of Marie turned into contempt.  

Her puppy love for Marie grew into a rabid, out of control dog that needed to be put down. And put it down she did. If Marie wouldn't be happy with Valeria, then she didn't deserve to be happy at all. Valeria would take any chance she could get to terrorize Marie. Cruel words and rumours whispered from pink painted lips spread around the small school. Valeria's torment didn't end with verbal abuse. She was having a particularly foul week and Marie's existence only agitated her more. Valeria dragged her into the girl's bathroom and whaled on her. Shattering her cheekbone and breaking her nose. She only spent four months in juvie before being released on good behavior.

There are no certain qualities that draw her to a person. She's not sure what it was about you that reeled her in. Perhaps it was the fact that the first time she ever saw you, you were sobbing. The sound being the most beautiful melody to have graced her ears. Her curiosity was sparked, and she kept tabs on you from then on. Checking up on you for her own entertainment. Her passive interest swiftly evolved into an obsessive need. The thought of you affected her so badly that it made her unwell. She got her hands on every bit of information that she could. Past and present social media accounts. Who your friends were, and who you dated. She saved pictures of you and took some of her own. She absorbed whatever she could into her very bloodstream to be a part of your life.

Pictures and information were never enough. She needed to cut you open and carve room for herself behind your ribs. Remove your lungs so she could take every breath for you. Valeria is a busy woman, unfortunately. Leading a drug empire takes up most of her time and as much as she'd like to, she couldn't spend every hour watching you. There are always workarounds to every problem though, and she's nothing if not a problem solver. When she wasn't able to, she'd send someone in her inner circle to tail you. Take note of everything you do. Where you shopped, where you went. What you ate. Who you spoke to.

In her clean, tidy kitchen she carefully slices through a bright red tomato. Off to the side waiting on a plastic plate is a piece of whole grain bread. Fresh lettuce and bits of turkey arranged carefully on top. She grabs the tomato slices and adds them to the mix then places another piece of bread to complete the sandwich. She cleans up. Putting away the rest of the ingredients for later, washing the cutting board, and wiping down the marble counters. She grabs the plate and makes her way through her home. The floor to ceiling windows shows off the scenic view of the mountains in the distance. The sun is setting behind them, giving the tops a halo-like glow and casting golden beams into her home.

The dark wood floors are polished and clean. Swept and vacuumed every day. She continues down the hall towards the stairs leading to the basement. Admiring the few paintings decorating the ivory coloured walls. Some portraying lush, almost fantastical fields of grass and heather and others with more religious tones. She stops at the basement door and fishes through her pocket for the new key. She had recently installed locks on the door. She unlocks it and switches on the light before descending down. She had the space renovated and took some inspiration from Diego's dwelling. Jutting stones make up the walls with sconces to provide a warm yellow glow. Open doorways branch off into other rooms not yet furnished.

She calmly walks down to the end of the hall and stops in front of a different door. She reaches up to feel along the top of the doorframe. Her fingers lightly brush against a small silver key and she grabs it, pulling it down. She unlocks the door and opens it, just barely catching sight of you crouching in the corner like a scared animal, your chain lightly rustling from the sudden movement. The room is mostly bare. A mattress and a toilet are all she has allowed. For her, and of course your safety as well. The chain connecting to a metal collar around your throat is long enough for you to be able to come close to the door and light switch but not further. She made sure the other end was securely bolted to the wall.

She steps inside and gives you a soft smile, even if your continued fearful behavior is starting to grate against her nerves. You don't return her smile, but Valeria knows you will someday. You'll understand that she's doing this because she loves you. She walks up to your bed - a thick double mattress - and sets the plate down. She turns her head to look at you once more. Just the sight of you is enough to make her feel agitated. Like she has to hurt someone to compensate for the feelings that are too big for her body. Your brows are furrowed, and your lips are downturned into a distressed little frown. Despite the fact that she's the reason for your unhappy expression she finds the sight cute.

When Valeria was thirteen, she spent some time around a man who ran an unlicensed animal shelter. He'd collect stray dogs and cats, and sometimes take pets from yards and demand a fee for their return. If their owners couldn't or wouldn't cough up the money, he'd simply... put them down. He taught her a few useful things regarding animals. They'll be scared of you at first. You just have to be patient with dealing with them. Feed them often, meet their basic needs, and they'll begin to warm up to you. Valeria believes this method can be used on people. You don't even look that different to the starving cats that used to hiss at her from the man's metal cages.

She settles down on the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight. 

"Today was a long day," She begins. She feels a rush of satisfaction at being able to talk to you. "There was some trouble by the border, I won't bore you with the details, but a little gang was making itself a thorn in my side." She runs a hand through her hair. The bodies of the leader and his enforcers are lying at the bottom of a lake by now. Providing nutrients for an aquatic ecosystem. "I took care of it, of course." She says proudly. She wishes you'd share her pride. That even if you don't understand the intricacies of running a cartel, you'd sidle up to her with stars in your eyes and awe on your face. You should be telling her what a good job she's doing. Instead, you crouch there silently, uninterested and unimpressed.

She wants to stay. To talk to you more but she knows she should probably leave before she gets too overwhelmed. She just adores you so much. So much so that you have infected her. Not even in her dreams can she escape you. A part of her hates you for it. Her mood is more volatile than usual since she met you, and she loses her appetite if she thinks about you too for too long. The only solution is to obtain and keep you.

"Valeria." You say softly. Almost so softly that your voice is lost the stone walls of your enclosure. Valeria hears you though. Valeria will always hear you. Her heart leaps when you say her name.

"Mhm?" She replies. Looking at you intensely. Pupils blown wide. 

"Can... can you please take the collar off?" You ask tentatively. Your voice lowered to an unoffensive volume. Valeria narrows her eyes at you. She's obsessive and certainly 'not all there' by a doctor's standards, but she isn't stupid.

"No." She answers bluntly. You're speaking to her instead of screaming at her which is progress as far as she's concerned.

However, she knows you are nowhere near ready to be freed from the cellar, let alone your collar. Even when you are ready, she'll be sorry to see it go. She takes a perverse reassurance at the sight of you in it. It reminds her that she has you. You seem to mull over your words before speaking.

"It's just the collar... is rubbing against my skin and it's starting to chafe," You murmur. Valeria leans closer to hear you better. Her answer will remain the same, but she will let you finish speaking. "Taking it off for a little bit wouldn't be so bad." Your eyes are wide and glossy.

"I'm not taking the collar off." Valeria says firmly. You look like you're about to continue to try and convince her but something on Valeria's face must dissuade you.

Just like that, your wounded-puppy expression vanishes. Replaced with the dark, brooding look she's more familiar with. Valeria pushes up off the bed and stares down you with half-lidded eyes. She loves you so much. 

"Make sure to eat that." She tells you. Gesturing at the sandwich. "If you throw it at the wall again you won't eat for the next week." She turns and leaves the room. Locking the door behind her. You are her most valuable possession and she's keeping you safe, sound, and accessible. 

[ane-doodles]

Use this ask to talk about one of your OCs :D

phew! a late answer but it's finally here: I present to you AOI!

Name acrostic: Artificial Outperformer Inteligence

He is an oc (based on another personal oc) that I adapted for the DCA fandom. I had never shown it because I usually find it difficult to draw the "stilts" of its legs.

brief explanation: In this story we are placed before SB. AOI is a robot purchased by Fazco from another company that specializes in security (since their own advanced technology is more specialized in entertainment). It was not bought by their own decision, but they were forced by the constant complaints and requests of the workers who work with the animatronics. These workers, although they do not know the entire history of Fazber entertainment and others, do know how dangerous these intelligent animatronics can be and the damage they can cause if they fail, so they demanded as a security measure the purchase of a specialized robot. specifically not his own product.

AOI's main job is to keep workers safe during maintenance and repair hours, but it also has the purpose of keeping animatronics safe from employees who want to break them or infect them with a virus on purpose.

Some facts and data from AOI:

• In addition to protection, he is in charge of escorting the animatronics to P&S

• Sometimes he must recover staff-bots or small cleaning robots from spaces in which they get stuck.

• Their design is based on the appearance of a samurai, and as the name might indicate, the company that sells them is from the other side of the world.

• AOI has detention protocols for each animatronic (image below right). Basically he knows the weak points of each design and can use them if necessary.

• In addition to the AOI protocols, it has electrical conductors in both hands, which give a kind of electric shock that serves to paralyze both humans and animatronics.

• AOI's leg stilts are used to reach high places, run very fast, and maintain balance in confined or narrow spaces, such as ceiling joists.

• AOI is forbidden to be seen during Pizza Plex's opening hours, so he stays hidden. Some people have managed to see it for moments and there is a rumor of the existence of a "secret company animatronic".

• The workers at the Pizza plex love and treat AOI as a kind of mascot. AOI is able to hold logical conversations and is usually pleasant

• AOI, on the other hand, is not highly appreciated among animatronics (except for staff-bots and cleaning robots that have him as a hero). Most avoid it when they see it

• Having an equally advanced AI AOI was also interested in "being friends" with the glamrocks, but it seems that it is not possible

• Bonnie was the only one who was able to hold calm conversations with AOI.

•AOI also has a security protocol against intruders. In addition to using the electronic shock, he has the command to lock the invader in an office and give a report to the employees the next morning.

• AOI's jaw is locked, but he can sometimes open it and break the lock.

• The robe that AOI wears is a kind of haori, and he uses it to cover the logo of the company that created it (Fazco's policies).

• When one of the animatronics refuses to accompany him to maintenance, he has the mission to "hunt" them. He doesn't really like to do that, but he knows it's his job.

• His head works as a kind of light screen where his protocols and "false eyes" are reflected.

• AOI likes tattoos, but can't have them, so instead he gets small stickers to use as replacements.

• AOI is deeply interested in learning about the daycare and its attendants who rarely require maintenance...

Tbh I don't have a specific story for him, but I did have in mind a few scenes and interactions from AOI, the animatronics, Eclipse and the DCAs (here they are separated). I think at some point I even considered pairing him... but it never got very far.

I hope you liked it

[emile-hides]

@syalin-deerfox and I are working on a combined OC story called Monster and Man,

Zayne’s Chimera OC, Domino, is the main character, and these are the scientist who created him

Penelope Domingo

Typically goes by Pen or Penny

He/Him

Bisexual

Pen is an ex-convict, wanted for genocide for the complete annihilation of his village and surrounding farming families. But he’s really not a bad guy.

Due to an extreme head trauma as a child, Pen can no longer feel pain or fatigue. He’s incredibly smart, and used his lack of feeling, used himself as a test subject under the wing of doctors in his local village.

When he grew tired of being just a lab rat for these doctors, Pen decided he knew enough to “fix” himself, and return his sense of pain and fatigue. The self-lobotomy didn’t go quite as he hoped. Instead of returning his senses, Pen turned off his humanity, no longer feeling any emotions for the family and friends around him.

However, something drastically changed after Doctor Scylla Phoenix paid Penelope’s bail, and took him into his home high on the hill above the town. Penelope is now full of nothing but love for his son, Domino, and his (not official) husband, Phoenix. 

Doctor Scylla Phoenix

Doctor Phoenix (Pen calls him Pheo)

He/Him

Gay

Doctor Phoenix is a well renown scientist and medical professional. He is the richest man possibly in his entire country, and lives in a large almost castle like house high above a small town.

It’s widely believed the Doctor only paid Penelope’s bail to use the main as a test subject for wild experiments. These rumors only grew after sightings of a strange, beast like creature in the woods surrounding the manor.

Pheonix treats Domino like nothing more than a beast. Though he educates the chimera in science and math, even going so far as to teach Domino sign language so they could communicate, he refuses to see himself as one of Domino’s father, or acknowledge Domino’s human tenancies.

Despite his cold exterior, Phoenix is truly, deeply in love with his house mate, Pen. It probably takes him a long time to realize his own feelings, and even longer to act upon them, if he ever does.

[dreamingofaizawa]

Obedient (Rewritten)

Soft! Yandere! Erasermic x Chubby! Fem! Reader

***18+ Fic***

You must be 18 years old or older to participate in this reading. If you are not, please remove yourself from the line and find another piece. Thank you.

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, implied drugging, kidnapping, reader is way too fucking calm with the situation, Stockholm Syndrome, BDSM themes, a collar, body worship, the word Daddy once, smut, double penetration (diff. holes), anal, unprotected sex, overstimulation, aftercare.

Word Count: 6.6 k

Author's Note: Alright. I've been wanting to rewrite this for a while now. Obedient was the very first fic I'd ever written and posted back in September, and my writing has changed A LOT since then. Reading the original, I realized there's a lot that I can change and tweak, and a lot that wasn't very clearly or well written (in my opinion). So, here it is!

You can find the original here.

Enjoy~

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“Happy birthday to me.” The words tumble loosely from your lips on a heaved breath, your fingers curled lazily around a cold glass of whiskey.

It isn’t a rare occurrence to see you perched atop a stool at the edge of the bar, nursing your third glass at 2am on a Friday night. Or rather Saturday morning. It’s one of the only places you can find solace, away from nosy coworkers and nosier acquaintances. The loneliness is soberingly blissful. You never cared much for social interaction.

At this point the bar is emptying, only a handful of bodies sticking around in the early hours. In the reflections of the rows of glass liquor bottles you see them again. Two lanky figures sitting in the corner booth at the back of the establishment. Any normal person would see them and think nothing. But you know better. When you first walked into the bar six months ago they were in that exact spot, and every time afterward they’d be there when you walked in and stayed after you left.

You, being observant as you are, always watched everything from your spot at the bar, the slightly warped images in the glass serving as your eyes for the night. It didn’t take long for you to figure the two were watching you every time you stepped inside. The blonde one always sat with his back to you, and his head would occasionally turn in the reflection. You’d alternate seats to make sure you weren’t imagining things, but it only confirmed what you’d suspected.

Not that you cared enough to do anything about it.

As long as they keep their distance you’re perfectly content letting them look. And they did keep their distance. They’d never even come within 5 feet of you, seemingly happy with just lingering glances. Of course, tonight would be a different story.

You watch as their glassy reflections stand up, the distance between you and them shrinking with each of their long strides. You let your eyes fall to the amber liquid in your hands, praying they’d only pass you by on their way out. Two sets of footsteps approached, two bodies popped up on either side of you, and a deep, silky smooth voice sounded on your right.

“Mind if we take a seat?” A glance to your right revealed a rugged, yet handsome man peering down at you with his deep, tired onyx eyes. Long raven hair spilled over his shoulders, framing his chiseled jaw peppered with barely tamed scruff and a scar curved along his cheekbone. You turn to look at his friend, long blonde hair pulled up into a high bun and hypnotic green eyes focused on you behind orange tinted sunglasses despite being indoors past midnight. He is handsome as well, a small mustache on his smiling lips, high cheekbones and a sharp jawline drawing you in.

You couldn’t help but feel they look familiar, somehow. You’d seen their faces before, somewhere, but you pushed that to the back of your mind for now.

It wouldn’t hurt to let them sit with you, right? They seem friendly enough, and it’s better to entertain them in case things go south should you reject their request. With a small, tired smile, you nod.

“Sure thing, fellas.” They both plop down on either side of you and the blonde immediately gets talking.

“So what’s the occasion, little listener?” Two thoughts came to mind. One, how did he know there was any occasion, two, what kind of pet name is ‘little listener’? Your confusion must have shown on your face, because the raven haired man spoke up.

“You’re pretty dolled up for a night at the bar, kitten.” Ah. So they had been watching you. You aren’t wearing anything that would normally be considered ‘dolled up’. Your tan sweater and black skirt are relatively plain, and the platform boots you’re wearing accompanied by your thigh-high socks are something you’re experimenting with.

But usually you entered the bar with a white button-up and black slacks from your job as a waitress. Today you had time to go home and pamper yourself a bit before heading to your usual drinking spot. Evidently, they noticed. You bring your glass up to your lips and gulp down the remaining liquid before entertaining the question.

“Nothing special. Call it a birthday party.” And hey, you mean it when you say it isn’t special. Your birthday only marks yet another routine year on this earth. The blonde nudges your shoulder with his own.

“I’d say that’s pretty special, sunshine!” The alcohol must be affecting you, because you chuckle a bit at his enthusiasm.

“Just another year gone by, you know?” You’re never this talkative sober. The man on your right rapped his knuckles on the bartop, the barkeep making his way over with a tired smile.

“One more glass for this pretty kitty here.” The name had your eyebrows raising.

“This one’s on me.” As the fresh glass was sat on the bartop you scoffed quietly.

“Kitty?” A deep hum came from the man.

“Well how would you describe yourself, kitten?” Somewhere in your muddled brain you warned yourself not to be self-deprecating on your 25th birthday. You didn’t listen.

“Definitely not feline. I’m short and chunky and the only thing cat-like about me is my posture and eyeliner,” you stated, matter-of-factly. As a waitress at an esteemed high-end restaurant, you had to learn to be quick on your feet, agile, and most importantly, poised. A hum comes from the blonde, a muttered ‘pretty and humble’ floating on his breath. You force a chuckle at the statement.

“Pretty is also a word I wouldn’t use to describe myself.” A short silence falls between the three of you, and you take the time to study their faces. Where had you seen them before? You’re certain if you’d met them before you’d remember them, you don’t tend to forget attractive people.

They’re oddly patient as they watch the cogs in your brain turn, your eyes taking in every detail of every feature. Your breath caught and your eyes went wide when you’d finally placed their faces.

“Present Mic and Eraserhead. You’re pro heroes.” The words are quiet, nearly imperceptible as you breathe them, but they’re close enough to hear. Present Mic beams at the recognition.

“In the flesh, sunshine. But we’d prefer you use our names.” Eraserhead leans away and sticks a hand out for a handshake.

“Shouta Aizawa.” You shake his hand and turn to the blonde, who similarly has his hand held out.

“Hizashi Yamada.” You introduce yourself, a bit shaky and only slightly starstruck. What in the world are two pro heroes doing talking to you? As you regain your composure you excuse yourself to the restroom. You weren’t prepared to talk to heroes tonight. A glance in the mirror has you sobering yourself, rationalizing their strange behavior. These two are pro heroes. They were clearly only worried about your safety, a woman all alone in a bar till the earliest hours of the morning. ‘That’s why they were watching me’, you muse. You quickly fix yourself, then step back out to the two heroes.

The three of you pass another hour of time before you decide it’s time for you to head home. They offer to give you a lift, but you politely decline. You can't intrude on them any more than you already had. Hizashi insists otherwise.

“Please Sunshine? If something were to happen to you we’d never forgive ourselves!” It made sense to you. They’re pro heroes after all, it’s in their nature to worry. So you oblige to ease their anxieties.

Since Shouta hadn’t touched any alcohol, he’s driving, and you punch your address into the GPS system of their very expensive looking car. As you sit back, Hizashi holds a bottle over his head.

“Water?” You thank him and drain the bottle, realizing you’re a bit more dehydrated than you initially thought. In your semi-drunk haze you fail to notice that the bottle had already been opened, and you miss Shouta’s eyes watching you down the beverage through the rearview mirror.

It’s only five minutes later you feel drowsy, your head lolling to the side and eyelids drooping. You don’t quite register the question Hizashi asks you, and when you don’t answer he turns around to look at you.

“You seem tired, Sunshine. Take a nap, we’ll wake you up when we get there.” Your exhaustion takes hold over any rational thoughts, and with a sleepy nod, you stretch out over the backseat and let your mind slip into unconsciousness, blissfully unaware you’ll never see your apartment again.

The first thing you notice as you wake up is how stiff and sore your muscles are. It takes you a moment to realize you aren’t in your clothes from last night, nor are you in your own bed. Your eyes snap open and you sit up, taking in the unfamiliar room. With a curse under your breath you scour your memory for anything, checking if you’d gone home with anyone or gotten yourself in a tight situation. The last thing you remember is being driven home by the two pros, then passing out in their backseat.

Questions began forming in your mind. ‘Where am I? How did I get here? Where had the two heroes gone?’ In an attempt to think clearer, you try crossing your legs, but your ankle is stopped short by something heavy. Throwing off the blanket, a thick metal cuff glinted in the light of the room, an equally thick chain leading somewhere over the side of the bed.

When your breathing begins to quicken, you settle your mind, refusing to panic. Willing yourself to relax, you begin to think about how you can get out of this situation. ‘Today should be Saturday. Assuming this room is part of a house, someone would most likely still be here’. With a small breath, you speak, hopefully loud enough for someone to hear you.

“H-hello? Is someone there?” It only takes a few seconds for footsteps to reach your ears, and the door opens to the last person you’re expecting to see. A ruggedly handsome Shouta Aizawa stands in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with a small smirk on his lips.

“Good morning, Kitty.” As endearing as the pet name is, the only emotion you feel right now is confusion. Your mind is drifting to all the fanfiction you’d read online, piecing together the events of last night like a puzzle. ‘The bottle of water was already open’. In your defense, they’re pro heroes, it’s only natural for you-- or anyone, really-- to let your guard down. A large hand on your shoulder jolts you back to reality, your eyes wide as you stare up at Shouta like a deer in headlights.

“You okay Kitten?” All you can manage as you settle your thoughts is to blink up at the man, swallowing down the lump in your throat before letting out a shaky breath.

“Let me guess. I’m home now, aren’t I?” The man stares back down at you with subtly raised eyebrows before chuckling softly.

“That’s not the reaction I was expecting, but I can’t say I’m mad about it. You’re a smart little kitty, aren’t you.” He leaves you to your thoughts and your mind begins reeling once again. You understand this is wrong, that you shouldn’t be so willing, so obedient. You also know how boring your life has been up until now. How mundane and lonely you’d been for as long as you can remember.

You’d cut ties with your family long ago, and ‘friend’ is a very loose term. Most of the people you called friends are acquaintances at best, your antisociality and trust issues meant ‘making friends’ is not on your life agenda. Somehow you knew, deep down, you wanted something like this to happen. You longed to give up control, to let someone else string you along and take the reins and let you relax, not have to worry about anything anymore. That side of you tended to make itself known through your explorative late teen years.

You’d had romantic partners before, though once anything intimate came up they all refused to associate with you anymore. They couldn’t understand your want to give up control, your need to submit. They refused to collar you ‘like an animal’. None of your partners ever understood the weight behind such a garment. This may be your chance at the relationship you’d always craved, regardless of its twisted nature.

Then there’s the logical side, the chances of you actually escaping. As a quirkless human in the presence of two trained pro heroes (assuming Hizashi is also in on this), the likelihood of you making it out is slim to nonexistent. If you somehow manage to get out, the two could easily track you down and just as easily drag you back. So, as wrong as it seems, you don’t fight it.

Shouta returns with a tray of breakfast, setting it down on your lap after you’d adjusted yourself to lean against the headboard. As he pulls back you mumble a ‘thank you’ and begin to eat, acknowledging the pang of hunger in your belly. As weird as it seems to say ‘thank you’ to your captor, you find it could be helpful even if only a little. Being polite is automatic, but it’s also a great way to make sure you don’t end up injured, or worse, dead somewhere, so for once in a long time your manners are intended. You’d gotten halfway through your meal when Shouta speaks up.

“You’re taking this really well.” He almost seems skeptical. You peer up at him as you finish the food in your mouth.

“There isn’t much use panicking. I’d only end up hurting myself. Besides, it’s not like I can get out.” You motion to the cuff around your ankle and he gives a small chuckle.

“You’re not wrong, kitten.” He leaves to let you finish breakfast, returning ten minutes later and taking your empty tray. He comes back right after, a pair of handcuffs and a blindfold in hand.

“I’m sure you need to use the bathroom.” You give a small nod, acknowledging the pressure in your bladder for the first time since you woke up. Gently, he takes your wrists and locks the cuffs around them, then holds up the blindfold before going to tie it around your head.

“These are just a precaution.” Soon you feel the cuff on your ankle fall away, and Shouta’s strong arms loop under your knees and back as he lifts you off the bed.You’re both surprised and not that he can lift you with relative ease. He is a pro hero after all. It takes less than 30 seconds for him to stop and gently place you down, taking the blindfold and cuffs off.

“I’ll be waiting just outside the door. Once you’re done, knock and I’ll take you back to bed.” You nod and he leaves, locking the door once he’s outside. Of course it locks from the outside. You take a moment to just think about your current predicament. Currently you’re locked in the house of a pro hero, being kept against your will (sort of). Your life had just taken an unexpected turn.

You knock on the door like Shouta said, and it isn’t long before you’re back on the bed with the cuff around your ankle. As he turns to leave you stop him, and he turns back to you with a quirked eyebrow.

“Can I...draw?” You didn’t know if he’d actually let you have anything, but it was worth a shot. If you were to be cooped up here you need to keep yourself occupied. With a low hum, he leaves the room and comes back with a sketch pad, pencil, and eraser.

Days come and go with either of the pros serving you three meals a day. They begin questioning your obedience, especially Hizashi. He questioned your lack of panic and how you never seemed to try to escape. Even he knows this isn’t normal. Shouta seems less skeptical, like he’d expected less of a fight than any normal, sane person would give. When Hizashi asked questions you answered truthfully. Lying is of no use to you.

“Really, I don’t mind it here. So far my life has been pretty shitty and boring, so this turn of events is mildly appreciated. Besides, you treat me relatively well, considering I’m being held captive, so I can’t say I’m upset.” You’d guessed from both your reading and their actions that they truly believed they cared about you. The chances of them hurting you are slim, so you’re able to live with them without fear.

The cuff around your ankle came off about a week in, and Shouta gave you the freedom to roam the house, though it wasn’t without warning. He held his hand out to you, an offer to help you stand, and you took it. Slowly, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and shift your weight to your feet. Your legs shake like a newborn fawn, but Shouta held you to let you stretch your legs and get comfortable walking again.

He led you out to what you assume is the dining table and sat you down, Shouta taking the seat on your right. You assume Hizashi is in the kitchen, what with the clatter and smell of food. Shouta asked what you’d been drawing, which caught you a bit off guard, but you answered anyway.

“Koi fish.” He hummed, focused on you.

“Any particular reason why?” You take a moment to think about your answer, it’s not a question you’re used to responding to.

“Well they’re gorgeous creatures. Elegant, sleek and graceful. The way they move is so mesmerizing, smooth and flawless like a flowing creek. I’ve always loved drawing koi.”

The conversation lapses into your fascination with the fish, how they somehow remind you of dragons and how the fantastical creature’s existence isn’t as far-fetched as it’s made out to be. Hizashi joins soon enough, serving dinner and listening in on the conversation.

Once you all finish eating you get comfortable on the couch, nestled between the two men. It isn’t long before you drift off to sleep, their body heat lulling you into dreamland. Shouta carries you to bed, carefully laying you down and pressing a light kiss to your temple. He stands above you, admiring your features as you sleep.

You’re gorgeous to him, a goddess in your own right. He and his blonde counterpart had started watching you mainly because you were a woman, completely alone and seemingly unarmed in a bar until the earliest hours of the morning. Neither of them could tell if you were quirkless or not, and as heroes they made sure to keep an eye on you during their weekly trip to the bar should you get into any trouble.

But eventually it became a habit to look for you, and the more they looked the farther they fell. You looked as exhausted as Shouta every time you stepped through the doors, hair just beginning to lose its style and shoulders sagged. But you were so beautiful, even in your exhausted state. Hizashi was the first to mention his infatuation to Shouta, but the raven-haired man had already figured the blonde was into you.

Soon enough they began to get antsy, constantly watching you walk out the door into the dead of night all alone. You’re just too trusting of the world outside, not taking enough precautions for a woman of your caliber. They made it their mission to make sure you were safe, and one day, take you back home where they could protect you.

Now that you’re here, it’s like a dream. Even as you sleep you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. How your lashes flutter against your cheeks, the way your lips softly part with every breath, how your chest gently rises and falls, it all makes him stare down at you in complete awe. It takes a great deal of willpower for him to tear his eyes away from you and join Hizashi in their room.

*

***3 months later***

*

A couple months have passed since you’d...moved in with the two men, and you can’t say you hate it. They’ve respected your privacy, allowing you to stay in your own room and letting you bathe yourself after refusing their attempts at persuading you to join them. Honestly it’s been nice living with them.

Though, the longer you’re with them the more thoughts begin gathering and swirling in your head. Caring thoughts, how their days progress, how they’re feeling at any point in time. And needy, dirty thoughts. Any time those pop up you make it a point to push them deep down into the farthest recesses of your brain, refusing to fuel those pesky embers.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you know what’s happening, what’s been happening. You’re no stranger to Stockholm Syndrome, having done your own minimal research on the subject a few years back. You constantly tell yourself this isn’t normal, nor is it healthy, to enjoy the company of your captors. You have to remind yourself that they had taken you from everything you knew, and even though there wasn’t much for you to love, they’d taken you from that as well.

But soon enough the illogical prevailed, because despite all of that, the two have been nothing but good to you.

In no time at all the days you spend alone in the large house are the days you find yourself missing their company, hoping they’d return sooner. You managed to dig through their clothes and pick out some of their older t-shirts, and began wearing them around the house. Their lingering scents have been a comfort as you patiently wait for them to come back. They don’t seem to mind at all, so you’re content.

As time passes you get closer with them, gravitating toward them and snuggling into either of their sides, letting them wrap an arm around you and tug you into them. You began giving kisses when they left and returned, a small peck on the cheek at the door. The first time you had engaged a kiss was a shock to both of them.

You had tugged Shouta’s sleeve and when he turned you silently grabbed his collar and yanked him down, leaving a small peck on his cheek, doing the same with Hizashi. They barely had the time to react before you dashed to your room and curled under the blankets, face heated and heart pounding like some schoolgirl who had confessed to her crush and got a positive response. That night you’d received more cuddles and kisses than normal.

The kisses became routine, and before long you all slept in the same bed. Strangely enough, life began to feel somewhat normal. The house began to feel like home.

And soon enough that schoolgirl crush manifested into something dirty, something lustful and carnal. Just as much as you long to be around them, you want desperately to feel their hands on your bare skin, mapping out the curves of your body as you writhe beneath them. You crave them and their touch. But of course you still have your pride. Dropping hints would have to suffice.

Slowly, subtly, you dress lighter, more scantily. No shorts under their t-shirts that barely cover your ass, allowing the stretched collars to drop and expose the slightest peek of skin. After a shower you walk back to the room in nothing but a towel, allowing the edge to ride up your thighs. Your tactics seemed to work, their eyes glued to the newly exposed skin, soaking in your plush thighs and soft skin. Their stares make you ache, but after weeks of nothing but lingering glances you decide to toss your pride out the window.

You have dinner ready when they walk in the door, and after everyone had eaten and showered you usher them both to the couch while you sit facing them from the coffee table. Their confusion is evident on their faces, your nervous fidgeting and reluctance to look them in the eyes didn’t help. What you’re about to bring up is embarrassing to say the least, but staying silent would be a detriment to your sanity. With a steadying breath, you meet their gaze and quietly force out your seemingly ridiculous request.

“So… I enjoy being here with you,” your fingers twist into the hem of your shirt and you swallow down the lump in your throat, “and I really appreciate that you’ve given me anything I asked for-”

“No.” Shouta’s voice suddenly cuts off your sentence.

“You can’t go outside, Kitten. I’m sorry, but that’s non-negotiable right now.” You blink dumbly at him, completely thrown off balance by his statement before you catch yourself, waving your hands frantically in front of you.

“No! Oh god, that’s not…um…. I wasn’t asking to go outside. I love being here, with you, and doing whatever but...it’s what we don’t do...that’s bothering me...just a little bit…” By now your voice is so quiet and high-pitched you wonder if they can even hear you. Hizashi, bless his heart, is just as confused as before the conversation started.

“Sunshine, you aren’t making much sense. If you think about it, there’s actually a lot we don’t do.” Shouta holds a hand up, silencing the blonde. His dark eyes drag over your body, watching the way your thighs almost imperceptibly rub together and you can’t meet his gaze. You squirm, the intensity in his eyes something you aren’t used to but it makes you hot all over. His hand comes down on his thigh twice.

“Come here, Kitty.” Slowly, you stand and walk to him, letting his hands grab your hips and pull you down to straddle his lap. A finger curls under your chin, angling your head to look Shouta in the eyes. A small smirk pulls the corner of his mouth, a moment of realization flashing across his face.

“Our little Kitty is getting needy ‘Zashi. Isn’t that right, Kitten?” Heat flooded your face, your embarrassment and arousal sending hot blood to your face and chest. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, hoping they’d do something about the very horny state you’re in. Shouta’s hand moves to your hip again, lifting you and placing you in Hizashi’s lap before standing and walking away.

The blonde cooed at the surprised squeak you let out at the sudden movement, and you open your eyes to his wide grin. Leaning forward, he wraps his arms around your waist and presses his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. It feels nice, and you let your body melt into him and his warmth, his long fingers digging into the flesh of your lower back as he tugs you closer and a pleasant haze settles over your mind.

It’s a blissful moment shared between you, and Shouta returns just as Hizashi pulls away from the kiss. They share a look you can’t place before the former raises a hand to gently stroke your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He seems conflicted, trying to mull over some sort of decision in his brain, his brows just barely drawn and jaw set. When his eyes dropped to his other hand, yours followed, to find he held a long thin black velvet box. Clearly it holds some sort of jewelry.

After a few moments he turns it to you and lifts the lid, and your heart damn near stops beating. Whether it’s from excitement or a brief flash of fear, you don’t know. These two have been watching you for much longer than just at the bar. Those few months are only the tip of the iceberg, but how they’d come to notice you would probably forever remain a mystery to you.

Right now, all that matters is that they know everything. From your failed relationships to the reason they’d all ended. They had to know, that’s the only explanation. There’s no possible way it’s pure coincidence that you now gaze down at a beautifully crafted leather collar. It’s simple, thin, black dotted sparsely with sparkling gems and a dainty metal ring centered at the front. Tentatively, you reach out and trace the leather with your fingers.

“Is this...for me?” A deep hum sounds in Shouta’s chest, and that’s answer enough for you. Shouta plucks the garment from its seat and moves behind you. The cool leather feels heavenly as he loops it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin. Everything seemed to go quiet as you waited for something, anything, to solidify this moment.

Click.

You shudder out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Shouta tilts your head and presses his lips to yours, looping a finger through the collar and giving a gentle tug. It makes you mewl, allowing him space to slip his tongue behind your teeth. He can see your pupils dilate when he pulls away, plush lips slick with saliva, lust invading your mind. You look so needy and desperate for them, so fucking gorgeous.

Hizashi leaves a kiss on your cheek then picks you up and places you on your feet. Both men grab either of your hands, lacing their fingers with yours, and gently pull you with them to the bedroom. Hizashi begins undressing first, and you can only let your eyes drag over his bare upper body for a moment before Shouta grabs your chin and distracts you with another kiss. This one is more passionate, heated, rough as his tongue effortlessly invades and dominates your mouth. Hizashi’s voice permeates your lust-filled haze.

“Come here, baby.” Shouta pulls away and allows you to walk over to where the blonde sits naked on the edge of the bed. He motions for you to turn around and you oblige, then he grabs your hips and pulls you back to sit in his lap, your back pressed to his chest. You watch as Shouta undresses, baring his skin to you as Hizashi tasks himself with undressing you.

Your shirt is the first to be removed, a groan spilling from the blonde when he discovers you aren’t wearing a bra. He pulls you flush against his chest, peppering wet kisses down your neck and shoulders as your eyes roam over Shouta’s sculpted frame. The raven haired man makes his way over, kneeling down between your legs and reaching up to toy with your breasts, rough fingers working your nipples until they peak. Hizashi’s hands find their way down to the pouch of your stomach, grabbing at the soft pliant flesh and squishing the fat there.

You let out a low whine, feeling extremely self-conscious with his hands working at the parts of your body you hate the most. You grab at his wrists in an attempt to pull him away, but he hushes you and whispers into your ear, his breath hot on your neck.

“It’s okay, pretty baby. Let me feel you.” You will yourself to let him go, let his hands explore your body the way he wants. He keeps his hands on your belly, long fingers massaging into your skin.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He’s nipping and kissing at your neck, whispering praises into your ear as he fondles all the fatty parts of you.

Shouta’s hands reach up and tug your panties down, then grip your thighs and pull them apart, exposing you to his hungry eyes. You can’t help but feel exposed, uncomfortable, as they touch and gaze at every part of yourself you had always despised. A whimper builds in your chest, tears beginning to sting your eyes and your breath shaking. Hizashi leans over and kisses your tears away as Shouta leans forward and kisses at your belly and thighs, hands working at whatever flesh he couldn’t get his lips on.

“Let us love you. All of you. You’re such a pretty kitty.” You let yourself relax, let yourself relish in the fact that these two gorgeous men are doting over your body like you’re a goddess, like they couldn’t live if they didn’t worship every one of your perfect imperfections. Though you’re far from comfortable, the initial fear subsides, allowing them full access to you.

“Good girl kitty, good girl.” Shouta whispers as he nips at your thighs, sucking little red marks into your skin. He hooks your legs over Hizashi’s, and the blonde’s fingers dip down to tease your folds, barely breaching your little hole and making you buck for more friction. A soft moan slips from your lips as he pushes two long fingers into your soaked pussy.

You rock your hips into his hand, his palm barely brushing against your clit making you mewl. Shouta focuses his attention on your breasts and belly where Hizashi left bare, kneading and kissing and licking, leaving blooming marks all over your skin. Soon you feel a knot form in your stomach, tightening and burning impossibly hot. Hizashi feels your pussy clenching around his fingers and quickens his pace, grinding his palm down against your clit hard and curling his fingers to hit that spot that has you seeing stars.

When the knot snaps you’re falling apart on Hizashi’s lap, back arched and legs shaking. You throw your head back against his shoulder and cry out, pleasure racking your body in intense waves. Hizashi keeps moving his fingers inside you, letting you ride out your high, legs trembling and toes curling with the continued stimulation.

After your release you relax back down, chest heaving with every breath. Hizashi lifts you up and lays you down on the bed, Shouta crawling up over you and kissing you sweetly. He grabs your legs and wraps them around his waist, lining up his painfully hard erection with your throbbing pussy.

“Are you ready for me kitty?” You look up at him through your lashes and nod fervently, needing him desperately despite the sensitivity. He tugs at your collar gently.

“Use your words kitty cat. Are you ready for me?” Your eyes widen slightly and you answer without any real thought.

“Yes Daddy.” Shouta growls at the name and swears under his breath, thrusting his hips forward and bottoming out all at once. The air is punched from your lungs, the stretch around his thick length almost enough to make you cum a second time. Shouta leans down and kisses at the bruises Hizashi had left on your neck, giving you some time to adjust. It only takes a few moments for your walls to stop clamping down on him.

“I’m going to move now kitty. Relax for me.” He starts slow, groaning as he watches his length slide in and out of you.

Your warmth feels so good around his cock, and he moves faster, driving his cock so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Hizashi lays down next to you and puts two fingers into your mouth, your tongue sliding over them, coating them in your saliva.

He pulls them out and goes to rub your clit, leaning over and placing open mouth kisses along your collarbone, sucking new bruises onto your skin. Your legs quake with the quick building pleasure, your second orgasm creeping up fast. Suddenly both men stop their movements, Shouta pulling your body flush against him and sitting up.

Lithe, cold fingers suddenly dance around your back entrance, toying with your puckered hole. A single finger pushes in and you mewl and squirm at the new sensation. A second finger works its way in, the two digits working to stretch you gently. Soon there’s a third, and when you’re relaxed the fingers are gone and replaced by the thick head of Hizashi’s cock.

“You ready, sweet thing?” You nod and whine, a little weary but ready to be full of the two men. He slowly inches his way inside, shallow thrusts sinking him deeper until his hips are flush with your ass. Both men pepper wet kisses along your shoulders, giving you time to relax, but you don’t need it. You whine, wiggle your hips in an attempt to get them to move, and they oblige.

Their initial pace is slow, letting you feel every ridge and vein as they slip in and out of you. They build up a rhythm, when one is bottomed out the other has only the tip in, and soon you’re drooling from the amount of stimulation you’re getting. Hizashi’s fingers move down to work at your clit, and just the slightest touch has you trembling. The stimulation shoves you over the edge and has you cumming hard around them, your slick dripping down your thighs. They slow their pace slightly, your holes clamping down on them and attempting to milk them dry. Hizashi’s fingers rub your clit harder, overstimulating you.

“Do you have one more for us baby? I know you can cum one more time for us.” You whine, thrashing in their arms trying to simultaneously get away and tug them closer. Tears fall down your cheeks and a familiar tension fills the pit of your stomach and Shouta leans over and bites down on your shoulder. The pain pulls you over, crying out as you clamp down on their lengths hard. Their hips stutter as they chase their own release, and they shoot rope after rope of cum into you as you ride out your own high.

They still their movements, holding you and each other close. After a few moments they pull out together, the movement making you moan and tremble. Your body goes limp and Shouta pulls you to lean against him, stroking your hair and back. You’re sobbing softly into Shouta’s shoulder, your last release washing over your body almost painfully, your bones already beginning to ache. Shouta rubs your back softly and Hizashi peppers soft kisses along your shoulders, both cooing praises in your ears.

Shouta picks you up and the three of you go over to the bathroom, where Hizashi plugs the drain and turns on the tap to fill the large tub with hot water. Shouta climbs in and sits down, still cradling you, and the slowly rising water begins to soothe you. Hizashi pulls out a tube of ointment and rubs it onto Shouta’s back, relieving the scratch marks you left on him. After tending to Shouta he unlocks your collar and sinks into the tub, leaning against you. You let the two massage you and wash you, bringing you back from the intense scene.

“You okay kitten?” Shouta rumbles into your ear, petting your hair. You nod into his shoulder and grab Hizashi’s hand, wanting to be close to the both of them. The hot water and the care of the two bring you back down to earth, and you start to feel fatigue pulling at your consciousness. Hizashi notices you drifting off and takes you from Shouta. He dries you off with a towel and locks your collar back around your neck.

“Sho, I’m going to take her to bed. When you’re ready come join us.” Shouta hums and Hizashi carries you to bed.

You lay with Hizashi and cuddle into his chest, letting him hold you and rock you as you drift off. After a few minutes you feel the bed behind you dip and look up at Shouta with half lidded eyes. He gives you a peck on the lips before nuzzling against your back. With a long, soft sigh you melt into their arms, content with the new life you’d been brought into.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 3)

Summary: Reader earns her nickname, and Spencer sinks to a new level of sin. A/N: Here, take your first dose of smut 💊 ✨ Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Drinking, alcohol, masturbation (male) Word Count: 5.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

If I had to pick my favorite thing about working for Spencer Reid, it would probably be something that most people wouldn’t expect. Sure, it was nice to be able to work with a human encyclopedia, and he was definitely very nice to look at, but neither of those things contributed to my love for my job.

It was the sense of belonging. An overwhelming feeling of serenity that existed, flowing freely beneath the surface like a network of roots twined together. I never felt out of place when I was with Spencer — which couldn’t be said for basically any other time. Especially not now.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays because it’s just absurd. You harass your neighbors while dressed in a costume and they reward you with something sweet (or, in some cases, change). As I’ve grown older, not much has changed aside from the creativity and length of the costumes.

... and the sweet treats being replaced by the bitter sting of alcohol.

“You do realize that guy was hitting on you in there, right?” my friend shouted from less than a foot to my right.

“He was just being nice.”

“Yeah... in a bar,” another girl chimed in, “On Halloween.”

I tried to remember the face of the man they were talking about, but my memory of his eyes blended into the flashing lights of the club. Even if I wasn’t drunk, I knew it would have been hard to remember him. Because the truth was that he wasn’t the person I wanted to see when I closed my eyes.  

“Leave her alone. She’s trying to stay pure for her professor,” my friend snickered.

Despite the treachery, I still caught her before she almost pushed us both straight off the curb in her drunken state. But it wasn’t her opinion I was worried about, because at that point, I was certain she would remember none of it by the time class rolled around come Monday. It was our other acquaintance that I responded to, with a very squeaky and unreliable, “I am not doing that!”

“Yeah, what she wants isn’t pure at all,” the mess on my shoulder droned. That was enough of a reason for me to drop her, although it really resulted in both of us barely staying on our feet on the somewhat crowded sidewalk.

“Stop! It’s not like that!”

“Sure it’s not.”

Then, something else caught her attention. Knowing her, I figured that it was either a man in a scandalous costume, or it was a two for one drink deal plastered in front of a bar. I assumed it was the latter, because as soon as she finished talking, she grabbed hold of our hands and yanked us against the brick wall of the next bar.

“So you wouldn’t mind if, theoretically, Professor Reid saw you in your costume?” she asked.

I like to think that I am a relatively smart girl. After all, I had made my way to graduate school, and Spencer seemed to think that I wasn’t a complete hopeless idiot. But in that moment, I couldn’t understand why on earth she would ever think to ask me that.

Running my hands over the fuzzy pink bodysuit I was wearing, I tried to picture his reaction. As soon as I tried to look down, however, the two floppy bunny ears affixed to the hood dropped over my eyes.

“I-I mean, I guess not…?” I mumbled, my face growing hot from something other than the alcohol, “I’m wearing it in public, so...”

But then she said it — the most terrifying two words I’d ever heard in my life.

“Okay ­– good.”

My eyes shot up immediately, trying to follow her eyes through the crowd of drunk, costumed people. By the time that I spotted him, somewhat thankfully dressed in normal clothes, I was powerless to stop it.

“Dr. Reid!” My friend’s voice rang out into the night, “Dr. Reid, come over here!”

The moment our eyes met, I knew I was fucked. Totally, completely, and utterly fucked. A clever little grin filled his cheeks as he quickly spotted me trying to hide under my hood.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I shrieked, but he was already on his way over.

“You said you didn’t mind!”

In a panicked whisper, I bit back, “I didn’t say call him over here!”

When he grew closer, though, I corrected myself. Because it was not just Spencer who was walking over. There was someone else with him. Another man, just as tall and just as beautiful as Spencer, but with a dark complexion and an even more wicked smile.

As for my company, they had already scattered into the bar behind me, leaving me with a wordless, dumbstruck look on my face that was very poorly hidden behind bunny ears.

“H-hey Prof— Dr. Reid,” I managed to get out.  

“Hey,” he answered in a tone I’d never heard before. A slightly guarded, very entertained but mostly awkward stretch of the vowel.

The man beside him, however, was quick to question.

“Who’s this?”

As I said before, I like to consider myself a relatively bright person. But the alcohol that night had been both free and strong. So, when I was asked by a handsome man who I was on the Devil’s night, I answered honestly.

“I’m a bunny!” I cried, bringing my hands together over my chest and turning to present the small pink pompom affixed to my lower back.

“I can see that,” the stranger replied through a genuine chuckle. But while the action was amusing to at least two of us in the conversation, Spencer looked mortified. It wasn’t necessarily negative, though.

I couldn’t be sure, of course, considering that I had already consumed more liquor that night than I had in the past month, but something told me that Spencer was less humiliated by me, and more worried about how blatant his response to my answer was. Because when he spoke, he did so through a smile.

“She’s uh... my teaching assistant.”

“Teaching assistant, huh?” his friend repeated, clearly amused.

There was almost a challenge to the title. Something about the way he said it setting my heart into overdrive. Unable to control my own treacherous tongue, I continued to dig myself a wonderfully sized hole to jump in to.

“I’m also very good at hopping,” I said.  

Once again, the better company of the two laughed. Spencer, however, covered his smile with a hand that brought attention to just how red his face had grown over the course of a few seconds. I was so distracted by it, lost in the way I could still see upturned lips just from his eye shape alone, that I failed to acknowledge the other man for a suspicious length of time.

“Well hey, don’t let me get in the way of you two catching up. Reid, I’ll go tell the hostess we’re here, so the others know where to go.”

With a firm pat on the shoulder, the man almost turned to walk away. But before he could, I drew him back again.

“Ooh, is there a party?”

Spencer, finally able to speak again, rushed his reply.

“No, it’s nothing.”

It was obviously not nothing, though. Judging by the toothy grin that his friend flashed, it was a very big not-nothing.

“Did he not tell you?” he asked with an incredulous, mischievous tone, “It’s his birthday.”

And it was, by far, the most insulting, scandalous news I’d heard that night. Enough to elicit a sharp gasp and hand reaching out to grab his wrist in a way I knew I shouldn’t have.

“You didn’t tell me it’s your birthday!”

My mind was racing, kicking myself for having not figured it out sooner. I was trying to recall the monthly staff newsletter, but then quickly remembered that I usually relied on Spencer to summarize them for me.

“It’s not my birthday,” he explained with a sigh, “It was a few days ago.”

His friend seemed pleased by my response, although he clearly saw it dwindling. My heels had already dropped back down with my hands that fell away, signaling a very different emotion than the excitement from seconds prior.

“We’re meeting up with some people for drinks and dinner. You want to come?” he asked, trying to convince me before it was too late.

But the moment had passed, replaced by loud, insecure ranting that insisted that Spencer wouldn’t have avoided telling me his birthday unless he didn’t want me to know. That meant he either didn’t enjoy making a fuss out of his birthday, or he didn’t want me to, specifically.

“Uhh...”

“Don’t answer that,” Spencer cut in, swiftly raising a hand to dismiss the other man whose name I finally learned. “Thanks Derek, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Suit yourself,” he mumbled back. But Derek, in all of his disappointment, didn’t fail to draw out one more flustered laugh from the two of us who remained as he gave a tiny half-wave and sang, “Goodbye, Bunny.”

Spencer’s neck craned back, never once leaving his friend until he had safely entered the restaurant. Once he was sure that he was safe from ridicule, or at least observation, his entire demeanor changed.

“I’m sorry about that,” he offered, but I couldn’t accept. If anyone had been a bother here, it was me (and my friends).

“No, I’m sorry I bothered you!” I rushed.

The silence stretched between us, an unsettling reminder that we rarely interacted outside of work. That he’d never known me to party, and I’d never thought of him doing something as routine and normal as celebrating a birthday. It shouldn’t have been strange, but it was.

Perhaps that feeling was what drove me to continue, proudly stating, “I promise that I will have all your work ready first thing in the morning.”

It wasn’t until Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed and his mouth opened in a strange, lopsided grin that I’d realized I made a mistake.

“Um...” he spoke through laughter, “Tomorrow is Saturday.”

“I’m very motivated?”

Thankfully, he saw the humiliation and was happy to offer me a graceful escape from my humiliation. “How about I give you until Tuesday, instead?”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best, huh?”

I gladly took it, staring down at my heels as I tried to find anything else to focus on. Anything that wasn’t his eyes that seemed even more powerful after dark. But true to the magnetism I always experienced in his vicinity, I was drawn back into golden irises full of an emotion that made my heart beat twice as hard.

“Where did your friends go?” he asked. I didn’t trust myself to answer, so I just threw my thumb over my shoulder and towards the bar behind me. I didn’t turn away from him then, too scared to acknowledge that I would be leaving him soon. That we would go our separate ways again and I would have to wait until Tuesday to drown in the honey of his eyes again.  

Sure enough, Spencer gave a solemn nod and cleared his throat before mumbling, “Right. You should probably go find them, so they don’t get worried.”

But I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay with him, the rest of the world be damned. I wanted to feel his eyes on me longer, especially when they started to wander my figure that I’d secretly hoped he would see.

I could pretend to hate my friend for calling him over all I wanted, but when I slipped into the costume hours earlier, I’d wondered what he would do if he saw me like this. And now that the answer was in front of me, torn between the exposed skin of my thighs and chest, I wanted to experience it for as long as possible.

With my fingers on the zipper to try and calm my heart, the inebriation manifested in soft giggles as I replied, “I think I’m pretty safe with you, Professor.”  

Spencer didn’t need to vocalize his disagreement. I saw his contention in the form of wayward eyes falling to my hands that fiddled with the tiny piece of plastic keeping me covered. When they trailed back up the zipper teeth to meet my eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that took my breath away.

Unfortunately for us, though, our smitten haze wasn’t shared by anyone else in the vicinity. Especially not the drunk pack of men who passed, completely unaware of the amount of space they took up on the sidewalk. I don’t even remember one of them running into me, but I definitely remembered what followed in extreme, vivid detail.

Spencer caught me, quickly and more gracefully than I thought him capable of moving. His arms were locked around me, not only preventing me from face planting on the concrete but causing me to press my face directly against him.

Before he had a chance to say or do much of anything else, I placed my hands on his chest and tore myself away from the warmth of his embrace. Because I was already drunk enough on the alcohol — I didn’t need to be any more inebriated from him.

“S-See? You caught me!” I squeaked.

I didn’t miss the fact his hands stayed on my waist even with the added distance, his fingers subtly digging into and stroking the plush fabric. I didn’t try to stop them, either.

“Are you going to be okay? Should I take you home?”

I knew it wasn’t how he’d meant it, but my inner voice still pleaded, Yes, God, please, yes! My outer voice, however, clung to reason and respectability.

“No! Don’t miss your birthday dinner!” I insisted, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m fine, seriously. I just suck at walking in heels.”

Any part of me that would have normally been offended by his insistence that I couldn’t handle myself while drinking was quelled by my desire to keep his hands on me as long as possible. Although there was enough space for my arms between our chests, I swore I felt his fluttering heartbeat against my fingers. I thought of hummingbirds.

Resigned to my stubbornness, Spencer took a moment longer to stroke patterns through the pink fabric wrapped around my waist before he sighed, “If you say so.”

“I do!” I giggled, leaning closer like I might convince him not to leave at all, “So you better listen up, mister Professor man.”

The look he gave me was sweet, honeyed bliss. But even that seemed minuscule in comparison to the way his hands slid over my sides, making their way over my shoulders and gently brushing the errant bunny ears back out of my face. He left them there, too, with a barely-there caress of my face.

“You look cute,” he said, like it wouldn’t break my heart.  

Shier than he’d ever seen me before, I somehow managed to still look him in the eye as I answered, “So do you.”

It was a good thing I’d been paying attention, too. If I hadn’t been staring into his eyes, I would have missed the flash of chaotic playfulness that appeared just as he glanced down at the space between our chests.

I wouldn’t have been prepared at all when he dropped one of his hands from my face to the zipper of my costume. Not to say that anything could have prepared me for the way it felt to have his knuckle brush against the skin just below the lace bralette that had been meant to protect my modesty.

Before I could even comprehend the delicious friction of our skin, it was gone. Spencer pulled the zipper up to my chin, releasing the plastic in favor of grabbing hold of my chin once more.

“Be careful with that zipper,” he instructed, “I don’t need you getting hypothermia this early in the semester.”

Unsure of how else to respond, my body responded on instinct as it stammered, “I-I promise.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, and my autopilot continued.

“Double promise. Promise squared.”

“Okay. You have my number so... call me if you need anything.”

I absently nodded, but Spencer accurately concluded that I hadn’t actually processed what he’d said. When he let go of me, he took the time to smooth out the bunched up fabric over my shoulders. I tried to convince myself that he was just interested in the soft fluff, but it was hard to ignore the hunger that’d only grown stronger. The darkness that rivaled the moonless hallow’s eve.

“I don’t mind giving you a ride home if it means you get back safe,” he said with a deathly seriousness strongly contrasted by the flippancy that followed. “Otherwise I’ll have more work for Tuesday.”

I was grateful for the shift, because it made the loss of his hands hurt less. My chest filled with laughter that quickly burst from me with frantic, messy words.

“Of course! The work. For Tuesday. Okay! Thank you!”

“For what?” he also said through laughter.

“I— don’t know.”

Spencer turned away from me, looking behind him at the obligations that would tear us apart. I wondered if he, too, was busy contemplating how well it suited just how different we were. How two establishments side by side could house such different things. How we were frequenting opposite ends of the spectrum.

Whatever he was thinking about, however, it didn’t break his spirits too badly. Because before he sent me on my merry way, he flashed me the goofiest little bouncing peace sign before he sang, “Hop along, little bunny.”

So I did, turning back to my life and letting him return to his. But I couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes following me until the darkness of the bar swallowed the space between us.

Still, I didn’t need him to be there to remember how it felt for his hands to roam my body like familiar territory. I saw that look in his eyes every time that I closed my own and remembered how it made my legs shake like weak stems bending to the wind.

I decided then that it wasn’t the worst thing in the world that he’d seen me in my costume. In fact, I think he quite liked it.

 ——————————————————

 There are few things more relentless than Derek Morgan. Death and taxes, perhaps. When it came to mocking me, there wasn’t a single missed opportunity. Even at the darkest hour, I trusted him to be consistent and predictable.

That was precisely why it made no sense that I had made it through an entire dinner and drinks outing with the team without him mentioning what had happened. Not even once. I almost let myself be relieved. Perhaps time spent with a child that can talk back did him some good, I thought. But when the time finally came for us to take our leave, I realized my mistake. He wasn’t holding back out of the kindness of his heart.

No, Derek wanted to wait until there was no escape route. He wanted to have me trapped in a car hurtling down a highway before he spoke the words that he’d been waiting to say all night.

“So... Bunny.”

“Her name is (y/n),” I quickly corrected. Unfortunately, Derek wasn’t in a merciful mood. Although there was a notable smirk on his face, his next words were uttered with a hefty dose of skepticism. A warning that it was a subject that ought to be approached with a critical sincerity.

“Her name is Trouble. That’s what her name is,” he said, shaking his head.  

“She’s just my teaching assistant,” I said like I might actually convince myself, though we both knew that I wasn’t going to convince him. “It’s fine.”

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?”

But that time, it was me who issued the warning.

“Stop,” I ordered, meeting his eyes to find him hiding his genuine concern under jokes that weren’t really jokes at all. “I respect her. She’s very bright and she earned her position.”

“I never said she didn’t. I know she’s probably smart, but I also saw the way you looked at her.”

The words felt like a blow to the stomach — yet another reminder that my affections for her were so thinly veiled they might as well be scrawled across my skin. He didn’t need to be a profiler to notice that I was fond of the girl, but it certainly made it worse.

Because he knew that I was lying when I muttered, “You don’t need to worry about it.”

He knew that I was lying, but he still asked, “Why’s that?”

“She’s...” I started, pausing while the word tried to form on my tongue. The word that had haunted me ever since those damned girls mentioned it. That short, simple little noun that had taken a cursory affection and turned it into full blown lust.

“She’s a virgin.”

Derek’s brows jumped up his face, his jaw dropping the same way mine had when I first heard the news. Then, just as I had, he put the pieces together and realized that it should have been a foregone conclusion.

“Trouble with a capital everything,” he half laughed.

But this wasn’t a joking matter, and I really wished that I could make him believe that. That definitely wouldn’t happen, though. Not when he looked up to see me hiding behind my hands, sinking into my seat like it would get me out of the conversation.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s obviously waiting.”

It was the wrong thing to say. I should have seen his response coming from a mile away. But I didn’t, and so I was forced to listen to his childish giggles that were followed with an even more lighthearted crooning.

“Yeah, waiting for the right professor to come teach her the lesson on the birds and the bees.”

“Cut it out.”

Without even looking, he astutely observed, “Kid, you’re blushing.”  

“Yeah, because you’re talking about me fuc–”

The word never made it out, getting caught between my teeth as I bit down on my tongue damn near hard enough to make it bleed. I wished it would. I wanted the iron to drown me and rid me of the sinful things it sought to do, instead. Opting for a more… distinguished explanation, I eventually stammered the rest of the thought.

“You’re talking about me... deflowering my significantly younger employee!”

“You can say fuck, Reid,” he deadpanned, “I think you’re old enough now.”

“I don’t want to. It sounds too... crude.”

I didn’t expect him to understand. How could he? He’d only seen her when she was at her most provocative… by far. Part of me envied him, to be able to sequester her innocence and view her as just another girl.

But she wasn’t like anyone else. She was an untouched bloom, a magnolia of unearthly shades. A beautiful blossom that had broken through the concrete walls I’d maintained for so many years. A tantalizing taste of the life outside that I refused to let in.

A fucking tease.

“Too crude for little miss innocent bunny?” Derek cooed, and it was so uncomfortably close to my thoughts that I couldn’t help the way I snapped back.

“Are you done?”

As we pulled into my parking lot, Derek just waved off my hostility, recognizing it as nothing but misfired shame and anguish at the thing I wanted being out of my reach.

“Yeah, I’m done. I hope you had fun, even with the teasing.”

I chose not to dignify the second half of the statement, climbing out of the car like I couldn’t step away from the conversation fast enough. But of course, I knew that only made my guilt more apparent. My culpability was clear and conclusive. There was no argument to be made.

“You know I’m right!” he shouted just before the door shut. A final reminder, one last cautionary call for the beast inside of me to keep itself hidden lest I allow myself to sink my teeth into something pure.

“Goodnight!”

Few things changed when I reached the confines of my apartment walls. Fantasies had only devolved into a vividness that was borderline frightening. How easily I could get lost in visions of her, only promising my return in exchange for my imagination agreeing to become a reality that I would get a chance to experience.

But that wasn’t fair to her. She was just a girl doing her job with an astounding amount of patience and understanding for her hopeless romantic of a boss. For a moment, the guilt became so overwhelming that I let it win. I managed to swallow my newly acquired memories well enough to navigate my nightly routine without wishing she was there every step of the way.

Wishing that she would call me. That she would grant me the excuse to return to her, to touch her as freely as I had earlier. I imagined a world where, upon arriving to her destination, she invited me in.

As I collapsed on my bed, I wondered if she would have preferred the privacy of my home. A place far enough away from other students and academics to finally see me as something more than a superior. Something attainable in a way she never seemed to be.

Just as I closed my eyes to give in to the dreams, my phone buzzed. The sound set off every nerve in my body, all of them very poorly coordinating to allow me to grab the device and turn it on to reveal her name.

“Hey Professor! I just wanted to let you know that I got home…”

I’d never opened a notification so quickly, but I should have waited. I should have paused and taken the time to notice that what I was opening wasn’t just a collection of letters and symbols.

It was a set of pictures.

Pictures of her.

“Safe and sound and zippered up. No hypothermia for this bunny tonight,” she tagged onto the end, “Sweet dreams!”

How could I ever dream of anything but her? How was I meant to turn off my phone now, knowing that she was there; her drunken, lustful stare on display? I only tore my eyes away from her face long enough to notice her surroundings. I took extensive, painstaking notes on the color of the sheets on her bed and the way the zipper I’d tugged at to control myself from taking her had fallen away again.

I could feel the softness of her skin against my knuckle again. I heard the way her breath nearly broke at the force with which she sucked in air at the feeling of me touching her. How hard she pressed herself against me, how her back arched when I held her and how she never even tried to stop my hands from finding new places to rest.

They worked diligently now, too, trying to keep her awake and with me for as long as I could, but also wanting to free myself of obligations so that she wouldn’t notice how long I’d stared at the pictures she’d sent.

“Goodnight, little bunny,” I sent before adding, “I’ll be counting rabbits instead of sheep tonight.”

As if to reward my efforts, another picture flooded my screen. Her face was scrunched up in an adorable innocence, half covered with her hand but still effortlessly beautiful.

I stopped myself from responding again. I forced myself to stop, to prevent treacherous hands from calling her and begging her to let me come to her. It wasn’t fair — it was manipulative, downright evil, even — to take advantage of her inebriated state to hoard any insight she might provide.

But she’d already sent these… So, would it be so wrong to indulge in her? By touching my own body to the thought of her, would I taint her? Did I care even if it did? Maybe it was for the best to plant the seed of impurity now, to strip her of her power over me.

But deep down, I knew that I would still want her. I would still wish that the hand that sneaked beneath the sheets belonged to her. I could almost feel it as my hand traversed familiar territory. It would be new for her, and it would be new for me to feel the delicate, unmarred skin of her palm slowly sliding down my stomach. Her fingers bashfully brushing through soft curls at the base of me, still too nervous to hold me the way I needed her to.

Her face would be buried in my shoulder, with dew from her breath wetting my neck and raising the hairs on my arms. I would take her hand in mine and guide her to wrap her trembling hand around my cock.

Just like I was doing to myself now, with my other hand still holding the phone displaying the image of innocence. My hand wasn’t as soft or inexperienced as hers would be, but as long as my eyes stayed on her half-lidded gaze staring back at me, I could pretend.

I could hear her panting my name— my real name, Spencer— in my ear, praising the feel of silky skin beneath her fingertips. She would whisper about how she wanted to feel it elsewhere, too. She would beg for me to replace a hand for her most precious place.

That damned angelic girl showing her hand on the zipper would beg me to steal away her innocence. She would unveil herself slowly, knowing that I needed the time to memorize every inch of her skin as it was seen by another for the first time. Seen by me, and only me. The vision would be for my consumption and indulgence.

I wanted it. I wanted her.

My stomach tensed as I pictured the girl staring back at me straddling my hips. I stroked myself harder, faster, letting my thumb trace down her body on my screen.

If I stole it from her, would it be mine?

Would she be trapped as I was, only able to feel anything when I was with her? Would she dream of me? Would she cherish each and every memory of my touch and play it back in her mind? When she felt the urge to break and burn, would she picture my hands lighting the match?

If I ruined her, would she be mine?

I pictured the girl on the screen with tears in her eyes, her mouth stuck open in a silent scream and her hands clutching desperately to mine. I imagined how tightly her body would grip me as I fucked her. How hard it would fight the intrusion of my sinful touch. How I would hold her down despite the resistance until she gave in to me. Until I broke her, thoroughly and irreparably.

She would be mine.

That was the thought that took me over the edge, all energy that was not delegated to my hand feverishly stroking my cock remained with my other hand to hold her picture in front of me. It never even wavered, never once shaking and risking losing any clarity. Even my eyes refused to close all the way.

She would be mine.

The warm, sticky mess of my desire coated my hand and stomach, but all I could think was how it would feel to mark her as mine. To feel the excess drip back down my cock as she collapsed against my body. To know that she would never be the same, never be wholly herself again. That she’d let me inside of her soul and that when I left, I hadn’t left empty handed.

She was already mine.

 ——————————————————

| Part Four |

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 12 - Bad Surprise [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Sometimes plans have to change.

Series Masterlist

Every job required something from people, and your job was no different.

Being a spy was not a conventional profession, everyone knew that. You were expected to be on the move all the time, be a good liar, be a good fighter, be whatever the job told you to.

And most important of all; never show fear, which you were usually fine with. You had learned long ago how to keep your calm in times of crisis. You had even managed to keep your calm facade when your last mission required you to play Russian Roulette with a target in order to keep your cover.

But this? This was something else.

Bucky cleared his throat to stifle a laugh as he looked down at you.

“Is it just me or are you using me as a human shield against a peacock right now?”

Your eyes snapped up at his for a moment before you turned your gaze to the peacock again, taking a subtle step to Bucky’s right to keep him between you and the animal.

Coming to the zoo was his idea, and you thought it could be a fun experience. You had never been to a zoo before, and it would count as one of the old times dates, so you were almost giggly by the time you got there.

Right until now.

“I think peacocks don’t have souls.”

“Alright.” Bucky sipped his coffee while you tried to ignore the fear bubbling at the pit of your stomach, eyeing the peacock that walked around the area behind the fences.

“I’m serious,” you insisted “What if it attacks me?”

“It’s not going to attack you Y/N.”

“It could,” you said, “It looks like it wants to attack me.”

The peacock fanned out its feathers all of a sudden and let out a squawk, making you jump out of your skin.

“Fuck!” the curse left your lips and Bucky’s eyebrows rose, an amused grin pulling at his lips.

“Sorry!” you said quickly, “Sorry, I…I don’t trust peacocks.”

“You got mugged in a dark alley and got shot, and a bird is where you draw the line?”

Correction, you were once held at gunpoint by the Italian mafia and peacocks were still where you drew the line.

“That’s not a bird.”

“….Peacocks are birds.”

“No, that’s the devil looking like a bird,” you said, “In-in bird shape. Bird shaped demon.”

“Okay, how about we see some other less threatening animal?”

“Let me check—oh my God Bucky they have sharks, I love sharks!” you said, waving the brochure in his face and he pulled his brows together.

“Sharks fall under the less threatening animal category?”

“Of course they do!” you said, looking at the brochure before looking around, “I think the aquarium is over there, let’s go.”

You grabbed his hand to entwine your fingers with his as you both started walking towards the huge blue structure.

“So I feel like I shouldn’t ask because I know you can’t exactly tell me the details,” you said, “But you’re not going on another mission soon, are you? This week?”

“I don’t think so,” he said, “Why?”

“I’m kind of planning something.”

He tilted his head, “What are you planning?”

“Not a club, relax.” you said, “Although I find it quite ironic that you’re this unstoppable brave superhero with super strength who gets intimidated by dancing.”

“I’m not intimidated…” he grumbled under his breath, making you giggle.

“Whatever you say,” you sang, and reached the entrance of the huge building and you pulled your hand out of his.

“Excuse me sir, is the aquarium still open?” you asked the security guard by the door and a small smirk appeared on his lips.

“Yes but it is closing in ten minutes sweetheart.”

Sweetheart?

Jesus Christ….

You smiled politely at him, batting your lashes.

“Oh—“ you took a look at the sign, “I just want to see the killer shark and we’ll be out. In five minutes. Please?”

He eyed you up and down but seemed to snap out of it when Bucky cleared his throat behind you as if warning him, making the guy gawk between you two.

Even you had to admit you seemed like a quite unusual couple. You were wearing a short white sundress with ruffled sleeves and sweetheart neckline with your hair loose while Bucky looked as if he was there to kill someone, a complete opposite of you with his dark jeans and black leather jacket as well as leather gloves.

You didn’t even have to turn your head to know that he was glaring at the guard before the guy shifted his weight, then stepped aside.

“Enjoy.”

“Thank you!” you said, grabbing Bucky’s hand as you led him inside. He followed you without any objections whatsoever, in complete silence as the sight of blue filled your vision along with many fish swimming behind the glass.

“You don’t even see it, do you?” he asked softly and you pulled your brows together.

“Hm?”

“Does anyone ever say no to you?”

You approached the label by the glass, “You do.”

“Do I?”

“All the time,” you nodded, still reading the label but your head shot up when you felt him tug you by the hand. A giggle escaped from your lips as he turned you around so that you could look up at him, then wrapped his arm around you to scoop you up, making you squeal.

“Bucky!”

“All the time?”

“Put me down!” you said, your laughter echoing in the empty aquarium halls and he tilted his head.

“Not until you explain yourself,” he teased you, “All the time?”

“Sometimes, sometimes!” you said quickly, “Very rare times I might add!”

“Mm hm, I thought so.”

“If you drop me, I swear to God—“ you started but was cut off when he pulled you into a kiss, making you wrap your arms around his neck. He took a step with you still in his embrace and you gasped as you felt your back hit the thick glass, but every single protest you could think of seemed to disappear from your mind as you lost yourself in the kiss. You raked your fingernails over the nape of his neck, making his grip around you tighter-

Then someone coughed.

Bucky pulled back instantly and you turned your head to see another rather annoyed technician leaning on her hip, watching you with her brows raised.

“Aquarium is about to close,” she said, pointing at you, “Take it elsewhere.”

Bucky put you down and you tried to fix the skirt of your dress, trying to look presentable.

“Sorry!” you said as Bucky mumbled an apology beside you as well, and the technician shook her head and walked away, talking about how she wasn’t getting paid enough for this. You covered your face and let out a whine but Bucky chuckled, causing you to lower your hands to stare up at him.

“Why is this entertaining for you?” you exclaimed and he held your wrist, gently steering you to the exit.

“Come on.”

“We can never come here again, ever.” you insisted as you followed him outside. It didn’t escape your notice that he bumped his shoulder into the security guard’s quite hard, almost knocking him over on your way out and your jaw dropped.

“That was mean!”

“Nah, he had it coming. Are you hungry?”

“But you could get in trouble. Besides, he was a nice guy—“

“Uh huh, a nice guy who was ogling you.”

You pulled your brows together, pretending to be confused, “Oh I’m sure you misunderstood.”

He tilted his head and pulled you closer to wrap his arm around your waist, then brushed his lips against yours, making you sigh.

“Bucky, it was mean and you can’t just kiss me to distract me—”

“I can try,” he murmured to your lips before kissing you again and you looked up at him when he pulled back with a grin.

“Fine,” you admitted, still pouting. “I’m hungry. Starving actually, let’s eat something.”

                                                    ***

You were finding it harder and harder to convince yourself it was time to go home after every date with Bucky.

Scratch that, you were finding it harder and harder not to invite him upstairs.

But of course, you would have to report it back to the General and discuss the further strategies with him and for some reason, it felt more of a betrayal than this whole thing.

Surprisingly enough, it was something you wanted and not something you would will yourself to do because of the mission. There was no denying it, he was an attractive guy and you really liked spending time with him and you kept having dreams about him and whenever you were with him you had this lightness in your mind, as if you were a different person.

A better person, maybe.

You shook your head at your thoughts and left your apartment to knock on Keith’s door.

“It’s me, open up.”

You heard footsteps before he opened the door and a boyish smile pulled at his lips at the sight of milkshakes in your hand.

“Jesus, finally!”

“I made it at home, can’t promise it’s good,” you said as you walked past him into his apartment and stepped into the living room, “What are you watching?”

“James Bond,” he grinned at you, “Hey, have you ever tried milkshake with gin?”

“No?”

“Me neither, let’s try it.” He said, taking the big glasses from you to pour gin into them. You sat on the couch and took a look at the screen.

“How many times have you watched this again?”

“Like a hundred,” he handed you your glass and you took a sip.

“Not bad,” you commented, putting your feet up on the coffee table. He sat beside you, keeping his eyes on the screen.

“What did you do today?”

“Had a date.”

“With Barnes?”

“Yeah. At the zoo.”

“He took you to the zoo?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And peacocks are fucking scary,” you muttered, “And hey, we learned that Bucky is the jealous type.”

“The guy was dating people back at 40s, I could tell you that much myself.” He snorted, “Chloe says you went on a mission with Julian?”

You slipped a little on the couch, “He’s an asshole.”

“I know. Is he really that bad in bed?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Nah as much as I hate to admit, he’s pretty good. Unfortunately.”

“So top or bottom?”

“He goes either way to be honest, that comment was more about me.”

“About you?”

“Yeah, I like to be on top.”

“Suddenly everything about you makes sense,” he murmured and you took another sip of your milkshake.  

“Don’t try that with Barnes though, the guy is from 1940s. He’s probably used to missionary only, you don’t want to give him a heart attack,” he wiggled his brows, making you scoff.

“Shut up.”

“Chloe is right, maybe you should go full on vintage on that when the time comes.”

You turned to look at him.

“Speaking of Chloe,” you said, “Anything you would like to tell me?”

Keith’s grin faded slightly and he shifted his weight, “Like what?”

“Bringing her coffee, taking her out to the field…” you trailed off, “What gives, man? I thought we had a deal.”

“We never had a deal,” he defended himself, “You slammed me back during training years ago at the academy and told me not to even think about it when you saw me looking at her.”

“No,” you shook your head, “Five years ago, in Ireland. That undercover job, the one that almost got you killed? We made a deal.”

He swallowed thickly, looking down at the milkshake before taking a sip. “Y/N…”

“Keith, you can’t,” you insisted, “She deserves a normal life, a normal family and kids and a dog and stuff.”

“I know,” he ran a hand over his face, “I know.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re a spy,” you said, “You said it yourself, spies die like flies.”

“Not all of them,” he said, “General is still alive. He has a family.”

“Yeah, one in a hundred,” you said, “Face it. That’s a very low possibility for us.”

“You don’t think you’ll get to grow old and have a family and all that?”

You pulled your brows together.

“No,” you said, “Of course not. I’m probably going to die in one of these missions.”

“You don’t believe that.”

“Keith, I can’t have any of those,” you said, “I can’t. I…it’s impossible.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you muttered, “I made my choice ages ago.”

“Y/N,” he sat up straighter, “Do you want to?”

With a very bad timing, your imagination went overdrive and a strange scene flashed before your eyes. You laughing in Bucky’s arms, watching two kids playing in the garden-

You shook your head, trying to shake off the thoughts.

“I could never have that,” you stated simply, “You might love Chloe and you might also be lucky enough to have her love you but…it’s not the same with me.”

“I’d say Barnes loves you.”

A bitter smile pulled at your lips and you bit inside your cheek, taking another sip of your milkshake.

“He loves someone who doesn’t exist,” you managed to croak out, “He loves my cover. He could never love me.”

                                                           ***

Spending the night at Keith’s and drowning your sorrows in gin and milkshake meant that you would have a killer hangover the next day. Unlike Keith, you didn’t have the luxury to sleep until the noon, seeing that you had a cover job to keep so for the whole day until noon, you walked around like a zombie.

Coffee helped though. Just a little.

Thankfully it was a slow day at the shop. After serving a couple of people, you had nothing to do other than seriously considering sticking your head in the freezer to get rid of the hangover.

“Long night?” Tara asked as she walked past you to put the straws into the cup and you nodded, groaning.

“Remind me not to drink, ever.”

“I make that promise to myself every Monday, does not seem to work.”

You chuckled, “Have you ever tried to mix gin into milkshakes?”

“No?”

“Don’t,” you shook your head as you helped her to move an empty milkshake container into the kitchen. “It’s a terrible idea and I’m experiencing the consequences of that mistake right now.”

“That sounds like a fun night though.”

“Fun night, terrible morning,” you let out a laugh as you walked out of the kitchen but as soon as you did, your eyes caught the sight of the man in the shop. Your smile was wiped off your face as the familiar anger filled your system.

Jesus Christ, this day sucks.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked and Julian had the audacity to shoot you a grin.

“Whoa cute outfit,” he said, eyeing you up and down, “Holy shit I didn’t even know I was into this whole thing, I’m having an epiphany.”

You looked over your shoulder to see if Tara was still in the kitchen, then turned to Julian.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was craving milkshakes,” he stated, “Hey, would you recommend Lavender Macaron?”

“Get the fuck out of here.”

“I think I’m gonna go with Lavender Macaron, makes me think of France,” he said, “Fun times.”

“Fun for you maybe.”

He shot you a look, “Come on Y/N, we didn’t leave the honeymoon suite for two days. That was the greatest-“ he lowered his voice, “Mission I’ve ever had.”

“You’re putting this entire operation in—“ you started but stopped talking as soon as Tara walked out of the kitchen. Julian raised his brows for a moment before smiling at her and you went under the counter to grab his arm.

“Y/N, is everything okay?”

“Just peachy,” you said as you dragged him out of the shop, and he heaved a sigh, following you.

“No I’m serious…” he said with a chuckle as soon as you both stepped outside, then motioned at the uniform, “This is something else.”

“Why are you here?”

“I heard that it was good, I did not think it was this good.”

“I’m seriously two seconds away from punching you.”

“How come you never dressed up like this for me when we were dating?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you insisted and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I was around.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Believe whatever you want,” he said, “Your shop has good rating, although I’m beginning to believe it has less to do with milkshakes and more about the waitresses.”

“Julian I swear to God—“ you started but you were cut off when someone cleared his throat, making both you and Julian turn your heads. Your stomach dropped as soon as you saw Bucky watching you two with a frown and you withdrew your hand from Julian’s arm.

“Bucky,” you breathed out, “Um-hi.”

“Hi,” he said without taking his eyes off Julian, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

He was trying to decide whether he was a threat to you.

“I didn’t…I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I figured I could drop by,” he said, crossing his arms, “What’s going on?”

Fuck.

Fuck, you had no idea how to turn this around. Thankfully neither of you had said anything about the mission, so it was more than likely that Bucky just knew you knew each other, but other than that, your cover wasn’t blown.

“Nothing! Nothing at all, he’s just—“ you stammered, trying to come up with an explanation, “He’s um—“  

“Oh come on Y/N, don’t be one of those secretive people,” Julian said, “You hate secrets. You’re Bucky, right? I heard about you.”

Bucky just raised his brows, his glare on him unwavering but even if it was quite chilling, Julian was a trained assassin just like you were, so he was used to it. Instead he curled his lips, looking between you before offering him his hand.

“I’m Julian,” he introduced himself, shooting you a grin as if you two shared an inside joke “The evil ex-boyfriend who’s gonna take her from you.”

Chapter 13

[nsheetee]

For Life (109 Steps to You Epilogue)

read “109 Steps to You” here!

Genre: epilogue, angst, fluff, soulmate AU Length: 5.4k Summary: Donghyuck and Y/N meet again one year after their last encounter, back at the place where it all started.

a/n: this is for everyone who asked for a part 2, I hope you all enjoy ♡

this is the epilogue for “109 Steps to You,” please read that fic before continuing!

Haechan walks into the cafe, the scent of espresso hitting him square in the face. He doesn’t have to walk far into the shop to find his two best friends sitting at one of the tables. Silence falls over the table once Haechan orders a drink and the waitress walks away. The three men sit mutely for a bit, looking at their phones or outside the big windows at the people walking by outside, until Haechan draws their attention.

“Huang Renjun, you invited me here and you won’t even say hi when I sit down.” At his ice breaker, Renjun lets out a shy laugh and turns in his seat to pay attention to his friend.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi.” Haechan says back sarcastically.

“Hi.” Jaemin pipes up from across the table.

Somehow, conversation became a lot easier after that.

Haechan never thought it would be awkward with his longtime friends, especially since it has been only a year since the three of them graduated college and moved on. Jaemin works as an elementary school music teacher (just an assistant, for now) and he shows the guys some pictures of his students, commenting about how so many of them have natural talent. Renjun decided to do the graduate program and stayed on campus.

“What about you, Haechan, what have you been up to?” Jaemin asks and takes a sip of his iced americano.

“Oh… Nothing special. I work at SM Entertainment.” The guys’ eyes widen at the “not so special” news and Renjun almost chokes on his bagel.

“As an artist?” Renjun coughs out.

“No, god no, I write music for them, and they liked me enough to let me produce songs in the future, so they have me a full time job.” Haechan explains.

“Dude, that’s insane. Congrats, that’s what you always wanted to do, right?” Jaemin asks, still looking a bit amazed by his friend’s accomplishments.

“Yeah.. I guess.” Haechan trails off, laughing afterwards and praying someone will have something to say to get the attention off of him.

“Actually, there’s a reason I wanted to meet you guys here…” Renjun sits up straighter, making Haechan and Jaemin glance at each other. “I’m going to marry Mya.”

“Renjun…” Jaemin turns soft, his eyes turning rounder and his bottom lip pouting at the news, making Renjun roll his eyes and laugh. His joy is just at the thought of marrying his soulmate, the one he has spent the past five years with.

Haechan has to swallow down the lump in his throat to congratulate his friend, ruffling his blonde hair and saying something about how he can’t believe Renjun is the first to get married out of the three of them. When Haechan was with you, they were all sure that he would be the one to get married first. Oh, how easily things can change.

“I was hoping you guys would help me? I want to ask her under the bell tower, the same place I asked her to be my girlfriend, but I want to do it at night. I need help setting things up.”

“Of course we’ll help, right, Haechan?” Jaemin asks, looking over at his other friend. Haechan knew that by coming to this small reunion, he would have to face a part of his past, but he decided to come anyway. The past year has been tough, but Renjun has been Haechan’s friend for longer than he can remember, so this is the least he could do.

“Of course,” He nods. “Anything for Renjunie.” He adds a pat on the head with the pet name and Renjun slaps his hand away, giving him a scowl. The two guys would have continued with their play fighting if it wasn’t for Jaemin suddenly standing up, his chair skidding back along the tile floor loudly.

Haechan and Renjun glance up at him, but his eyes are glued to the entrance of the cafe. They turn around just in time to catch a girl stopping in her steps, her eyes focused on Jaemin. It’s been years; her hair is longer than before and she definitely grew up since the last time they saw her, but it’s no doubt Yeji, Jaemin’s soulmate and the one who rejected him when they were teenagers in high school.

“Jaemin.” She clears her throat, looking at the three guys, “You’re all here. Why am I not surprised your friendship lasted this long?” She laughs lightly as she recognizes the group of friends.

“Do you want to sit?” Jaemin points at the fourth chair at their table that has yet to be occupied. Yeji nods slowly and makes her way to the seat, gently sitting down and smiling shyly at the three guys. There’s a silence that falls over the table as everyone sips on their drinks, but the world around them continues on living loudly.

“So, what have you been up to recently?” Jaemin asks and turns to face her.

“Oh, I’m finishing college this year. I go to UOS.” She proudly smiles.

“Oh? We all went there too, we never saw you?” Renjun asks.

“I took a leap year, so I started college after you guys. You probably didn’t see me around because of that.”

“What did you do during your leap year?” Haechan asks, leaning back in his seat.

“I was in the hospital.” When three pairs of wide, serious eyes stare back at her, she laughs and waves her hand at them, “Oh no, it wasn’t anything bad. I found out my immune system is weak and spent some time figuring out what medicine to take and making my body stronger so I don’t get sick easily. That’s why I was gone for part our last year of school, too.” She explains and the three guys unstiffen and nod.

“Is that why you rejected me?” With Jaemin’s sudden question, Renjun and Haechan felt like they shouldn’t be sitting at the table anymore. They glance at each other, both wondering the same thing: should we leave?

“No,” She looks over at her soulmate, and then glances at Renjun and Haechan, “I guess I should explain myself now, huh?”

“Please.” Since Yeji rejected Jaemin, he turned into a different person. His affectionate and compassionate side is still present, but he tended to keep a calm and neutral front during most of his time in college that made some people think he’s a mean and scary person. Haechan and Renjun are very curious as to why Yeji dumped Jaemin all of a sudden, for the sake of their friend, and stay seated to hear what Yeji has to say..

“I only have one mark.” She explains. Jaemin looks at her a bit dumbfounded.

“What do you mean? Where’s the other one?” He asks and glances over her as if trying to find her other mark. Yeji laughs a bit at the question.

“I mean, I was only born with one. I will only have one mark my whole life.”

“There are people like that? What does it mean?” Renjun asks, stirring the melting ice in his drink with his straw.

“It means that your soulmate is also the person who will hurt you the most in life.” Yeji’s sharp eyes glance over to Jaemin, “That’s why I rejected you so quickly. I’m sorry if I caused you pain. I was just young and only thinking about myself.” She explains.

“No, I understand. I think I would’ve done the same thing.” Jaemin nods, and the two of them fix their eyes down and away from each other, Jaemin now knowing the reason for their separation makes him think about the decisions he made over the past few years.

Haechan, however, starts thinking about you. His palms get clammy and his heart beats faster, his mind running through the years and years of memories he has of you.

Where is your second mark?

Has it just been so long that Haechan doesn’t remember anymore, or did he never see it in the first place? Could it be… that you’re like Yeji? One mark, destined to be hurt the most by the person who’s supposed to love you the most. Haechan feels sick. It can’t be.

“It’s rare, right? For people to be born with one mark?” Haechan asks Yeji, and she purses her lips.

“Not really, no. Most people just don’t admit it out loud, since it’s not the norm to only have one mark. If you think about it, the people you love have the most power to hurt you. It’s not that uncommon.” She shrugs, and the table settles into another silence as the three guys think about her words.

Haechan refuses to believe it. You told him everything, you trusted him to the very end. You would’ve told him if you only had one mark, right? On the other hand, Haechan cannot remember ever seeing a second mark on your body— ever.

He begins to feel pain, for you and for what you must’ve gone through while you were with Haechan if this is true. He also begins to feel fear. Fear that his actions in the past are the end-all, be-all to your relationship. Haechan always had hope that you two might be able to work out your problems in the future, until now.

Haechan really hopes he’s wrong. He really hopes there’s a chance, a small sliver of promise of a future left for the two of you.

“Oh, hey, you got here quick.” You say as you open the door, Mya stepping in through the threshold and into your home. “I’m sorry we had to change plans so quickly. It’s just Mirae got a fever and wouldn’t stop crying…” You trail off as you lead your friend into the kitchen.

“It’s alright, I understand.” Mya smiles, watching you pull two mugs out of your cabinet and pour hot water, the savory aroma of coffee immediately filling the room. Mya takes a good look at you; you have some hair falling out of your ponytail around your face, there’s some sort of stain on your sweater, and you can’t stop playing with the diamond ring on your left hand; you look just like any new mom would.

“So, what’s going on? You don’t usually call me up like this out of nowhere…” You ask once you sit down, mugs on the table between you and your old friend. During your college days, you guys got to be pretty close, but after you graduated it became harder to get in touch due to your busy lives.

“Well, you remember Renjun, right?” Mya begins, nervously sipping on her coffee. You pretend to not notice how her hands shake.

“Of course,” You smile at the memory of Mya and Renjun, “Are you guys doing good?” At the question, Mya sets down her mug and stares into the creamer that swirls through the coffee, her shoulders sagging and eyes dull.

“I think… he’s going to propose to me.” You freeze, your heart suddenly beginning to hammer in your chest. Not because you’re excited by the news, but because your friend looks miserable.

“Why does the look on your face say that’s a bad thing?” Your heart begins to break when Mya lifts her head to show the tears surfacing to the edge of her eyes. You reach your hand over the table to capture Mya’s, trying to comfort her in any way.

“You know you can tell me anything. I won’t judge.” You nudge her to open up. After a moment, she takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand.

“I don’t think I’m Renjun’s soulmate. I think… I’m the opposite.” She admits, biting into her bottom lip. “I think I fell out of love. Soulmates can’t do that, right?” When you shake your head, she sighs and continues, “I think it happened a while ago actually, but I was too afraid to say anything because I still care about him, like a friend. We share a mark, so it could mean I’m the one who’s meant to hurt him the most, but, this is going to sound insane…” She lets some tears fall down her cheeks as she talks, and you can only grip her hand tighter to encourage her to speak.

“I don’t want to. I think I’m supposed to hurt him, but I don’t want to— not at all. How does any of this make sense?” The tears start to fall as she thinks more and more about the situation, why did fate have to be so unfair to her?

You always thought about how unfair it is that there’s going to be a person who hurts you and gets to walk away from the situation without a care. When it comes to Mya and your own story of how you got hurt, you realize hurt is a two way street sometimes. It’s not always malicious and spiteful, hurt can be just as much of a shared emotion as love.

“Hey, everything happens for a reason. Even if it hurts, it’s supposed to hurt for a reason. Or else, why would fate exist in the first place?” You’re not sure if these are the most comforting words you can give Mya at the moment, but she finds some comfort in your logic and nods her head.

“I should go talk to him, shouldn’t I?” When you nod your head, Mya sighs. She dreads having this conversation, even thinking about it makes her scared of how Renjun will react.

“When you have your thoughts in order, go to him and tell him how you feel. No matter what kind of relationship fate assigns you, it doesn’t take away all the time you spent together. It’ll be okay.”

Mya has a lot on her mind as she stands up and makes her way to your door, denying your request of walking her home or calling a cab. As she slides her shoes on, the bedroom door opens and closes quietly. Mya smiles at the man who walks up to you, some bags under his eyes and his light brown hair tousled, not surprising Mya the slightest.

“Is she okay?” You ask as he comes forward, worry lacing your words. The man nods and lovingly pats your head, telling you not to worry before turning to Mya.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t come out earlier to say hi, Mirae was sleeping on me and I didn’t want to wake her up.” He explains while his arm comes around your shoulders and he tiredly sets his chin against your head.

“It’s okay, Xiaojun, I’m the one who intruded. You guys should focus on Mirae, and maybe get some sleep.” Mya manages to smile as she glances at her phone, a message from Renjun reading “Where are you? Come home, I miss you” making her nerves from earlier arise.

“We’ll try,” You comment, “And hey, call me anytime. I’ll always be here for you.” Mya nods, sending a wave and walking out of the front door to walk the long way home. When the door closes, Xiaojun sighs and moves his head to your shoulder, snaking his other arm around your waist to pull you closer to him.

“Y/N… I’m so tired.” He whines, laughing through his words a bit. It sends chills down your spine when his lips brush against your bare skin and his breath tickles your neck. You tug on his shirt, pulling him closer and resting your head against him.

“That’s what happens when a baby is sick.” You sigh, and Xiaojun can already guess the question that’s about to leave your lips. “You don’t regret this, do you?”

Around the same time that Donghyuck left you, Xiaojun found his soulmate. She came into Xiaojun’s life as quickly as she left it, something about backpacking through Central America. Not sharing the same goals and dreams as his soulmate, it left Xiaojun heart broken and lost without the person who’s supposed to be his home.

He needed someone and you needed someone, too. And then it turned from needing the other’s presence to understanding each other in a different way than friends do, and then you realized… You’re in love.

When he decided to love Mirae as if she’s his own, that’s when you knew Xiaojun is the right choice for you. However, that didn’t stop you from wondering if Xiaojun ever regrets his decision.

“You ask that question all the time,” He leans back, his gentle hands cupping your jaw as you make eye contact, “You know I’ll always answer the same way. I never regret picking you.”

Xiaojun waits for the anxiety to leave your eyes before giving you a smile, brushing his thumb over your soft cheek. He wonders how he hasn’t fallen in love with you sooner, you being his childhood friend and all. He knows it’s probably because he has always been waiting for his soulmate and it blinded him from seeing the one he truly loves: you.

When he feels you fully relax into him, he leans in and softly presses his lips to yours. You melt into him instantly, letting him hold onto you as his lips move slowly against yours. The hand on your waist pulls you closer and you hear Xiaojun whine when your nails scratch on his back over his shirt.

You pull away before anything else can happen, and Xiaojun stares back at you with a pout that makes you giggle a bit.

“Maybe we really should go to sleep?” You ask, and Xiaojun nods. He takes one more look at you, that look full of adoration that always makes your heart jump and your face heat up no matter what, and then he leads you to your bedroom for, hopefully, a restful night of sleep.

The next time you hear from Mya, it’s when you’re walking home from work one evening.

Your phone rings loudly and kills whatever train of thought you were on, pulling you to your electronic device and pressing the answer button.

“Hey, hun, what’s up?” You hum into the phone, stepping over cracks in the sidewalk.

“I think it’s today. I think Renjun is going to propose to me today.” Her words make you stop in your tracks, making some people around you throw a glare at the sudden obstacle in the middle of the sidewalk.

“What? What happened?” You ask.

“He just called me and told me to go to campus, to the bell tower. I just know he’s going to propose.” You can hear the panicky tone rising in Mya’s voice and you feel her anxiety all the way through the phone.

“Didn’t you talk to him about it?” You try to make sense of the situation.

“I was going to when I planned out what I needed to say, but I’m not ready yet. Oh, my god, I can’t go see him. I can’t.” You can practically hear her shaking her head by the sound of her wavering voice. “Please, Y/N, help me. I don’t know what to do.”

“Mya, it’ll be okay. I’ll meet you in the front of the campus and we’ll go in together, okay?” You turn around abruptly, already planning the quickest way to get to the university in your head.

“Wait, what? I just said I can’t go there.”

“Think about it, if you don’t show up then Renjun will know something is wrong and bring it up first. If you do show up, then you can say what you need to first before anything else happens.” You explain as you weave through people on the sidewalk going home. “I don’t think you should drag this out any longer.”

“... Okay, okay, I’ll meet you there.” After saying goodbyes, you end the phone call and send a text to Xiaojun telling him you’ll be late tonight and saying you’ll explain later. You put your phone into your bag and quickly make your way to campus, playing with the ring on your finger out of worry for Mya.

When you arrive, Mya is already at the front gates, pacing back and forth as college students pass by and send her glances. You walk up to her, scooping her arm into yours and looping them together, calmly walking onto campus and towards the bell tower. You clutch your bag closer to your side, thinking about the one place you want to visit before leaving tonight.

“Have you thought about what you’ll say?” You ask quietly, but your voice still startles Mya and she jumps a bit in your hold.

“I can’t even think straight right now, I have no idea.” She grips your arm tighter.

“I believe in you. One way or another, you and Renjun are connected somehow. I think you already know what you have to say.” You ponder out loud.

“How?”

“Because it’s your fate, even if it’s a bad one. Some things in life are hard, but that’s why we can say we live.” Mya doesn’t look any more  relaxed at your words, and you don’t blame her.

After walking for some time, you reach the bell tower. You can already see a figure of someone standing underneath it. The sun is setting behind the clock, and when you walk closer, you can see balloons and some candles lighting up the dimming area. Right before you reach the tower, you stop and let go of Mya’s arm. Giving her one last look of reassurance, you gently push her to Renjun.

You don’t hear exactly what happens next, since you’re standing too far away. But if you had to guess, Renjun noticed Mya and greeted her with the flowers he was holding. For a split second, you felt deja vu. Back when you were just a college student, you saw this exact same scene through a video— same people and same proposal.

There was a point when Renjun’s face changed that you know Mya broke the news. He looked confused and agitated, but most of all hurt. True pain breaks over his face, you can even see it from where you’re standing. You’ve never seen someone hurt by the one who is fated to bring them pain until now. Renjun looks like he could crumble into the asphalt and roll away with the wind, and it would still hurt less than standing there, hearing the words of betrayal from the one he thought was his soulmate.

You sympathize with him. It’s almost like you can feel that same feeling, like muscle memory in your heart forcing you to remember what it feels like to be hurt that way.

When Mya turns and walks away, you see the pain on her face too. When she passes you, she moves quicker than you and you aren’t able to stop her, only watching her walk towards the entrance of the campus.

You turn to look at Renjun, your heart seizing in surprise when you see two other familiar faces: Jaemin and Donghyuck.

He looks like he hasn’t changed one bit, but at the same time he isn’t who you remember. His hair is still that golden shade of brown, falling over his ears and down the back of his neck. His clothes look the same, his posture is still a bit hunched as always, but his eyes and his gaze look different as he stares back at you.

You aren’t sure why you’re still standing there, you don’t have anything to say to your three old college friends, so you politely nod at them and turn around, walking further into campus. You walk next to the buildings you used to know so well, your feet guiding you to the place your heart wants to go to the most.

You pull out your phone and start calling Mya. Once, twice, and after the third time, you send a text asking her to pick up the phone. There are so many places she could’ve gone, and you could probably catch up to her if you turn around and run, but your feet don’t listen to your brain and carry you to the place you’ve been yearning to see again since the second you stepped into campus.

The staircase looks the same as it did 5 years ago. You have changed, so has Donghyuck, but this staircase remains stagnant in time. The trees on the left side still sway over the stairs peacefully and the cracks in the stone wall on the right seem to not have changed either. You immediately feel comfort upon seeing this steep set of stairs, slowly starting to walk up while putting your phone into your bag.

One, two, three, four, the fifth step a little longer, then repeat.

When you reach the top, the air feels slightly cooler and you close your eyes for a moment. Not for too long, though, because you hear your name being called from the bottom of the staircase.

Donghyuck manages to catch your attention with his loud voice, his figure looking small. You stand in your spots for a bit longer, the sun setting behind the trees and the wind nipping at your nose. Until, suddenly, Donghyuck starts climbing the stairs.

One, two, three, four, every fifth stride a little longer, one hundred and nine times until he’s on the step right before yours, glancing at you through his hopeful eyes.

“I knew you would be here.” He’s slightly out of breath, but the cheekiness in his voice is still evident.

“I knew you would find me.” You say back, making him smile a bit, “But, I’m not sure what for. If it’s about what Mya did to Renjun, I don’t think that’s my place to explain.”

“No, there’s something I’m curious about. Actually, there’s so many things I want to know about you, but I have a feeling you won’t tell me everything I want to hear.” He bites his chapped lip, shoving his hands into the pockets of his oversized jacket. “Will you let me ask you a question?” The look on your face tells him to go on.

“Do you only have one mark?”

You cock an eyebrow, “It took you this long to figure out?”

He laughs, not out of humor but out of disbelief, and looks at his shoes. “I can’t believe it. All this time…” he mumbles and kicks the step he’s standing on. When he lifts his head to look at you, you’re surprised by the tears lining his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Your heart still hurts to see him in pain, even after everything, your soulmate connection is still strong.

“For hurting you. You knew what would happen all along, you knew how we would end up, but you still stayed with me. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t do anything to save us.” He sniffs, one tear falling down his eye. He tries to wipe it away quickly, but you still see it. Something in you pulls you towards him, something telling you to comfort him, but you hold back.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s in the past now.” You bite your lip in thought as he nods, “Where did you find out about single-marked people?”

“I ran into an old classmate. When she explained it, I realized it sounded just like what happened to us—”

“What you did to me.” You quickly correct him, making the pain on his face fade away and a cold look present itself on his features.

“Hey, I know you understand why I did what I did.” He rebuttals.

“Just because I understand doesn’t mean I’ll forgive and forget.” You taunt back, feeling anger and irritation rise. You decide now is the time to walk away, talking the first step down the stairs where Donghyuck is standing. He stops you with a strong grasp on your left wrist, turning you to him and looking you straight in the eye.

“One more question. Whose ring is this?” He holds up your left hand to his face, eyeing the diamond that shines as he tilts your hand back and forth. His thumb rolls over the dragonfly that paints your hand, his identical mark peeking out of his sleeve and touching yours as he examines the ring.

“Xiaojun gave it to me.” Donghyuck flinches at the name, looking between you and your hand.

“Xiaojun…” He repeats, the name feeling heavy on his tongue, “Good. He’s a good guy.” You can tell how hard it is for him to get those words out of his mouth, as if he’s saying the words out loud to convince himself rather than just commenting. You gently try to take your hand away, but Donghyuck grips onto it more, dropping your hands down between you two.

“Wait, one more question.”

You sigh restlessly, “You said that about the last question.”

“No, seriously, this is the last one.” You pause for a moment to compose yourself before nodding slowly, signaling him to go ahead and ask.

“Will you ever be able to do it? To forgive me, and to forget what I did?” His voice holds so much hope you’re almost afraid of talking, since you know your words will break whatever last piece of expectation he has left. You gently take his hand, stepping closer to him to slide it into his jacket pocket. You wipe some pollen off of his shoulder, looking him in the eyes afterwards.

“One day, when we’ve found our place in this world and the pain we gave each other is just a distant memory, I will forgive you. But I’ll never be able to forget how you left me when I needed you most. In this world where love is chosen for you, I turned my back on fate and I chose love. It’ll never be the same as when I was with you, but that’s not what I need. I need someone who will love me— someone who will stay when things go good or bad. Someone who will stay for life.” You explain, “And actually, I’ll start forgiving you now.”

You dig into your bag, finding your wallet and producing a photo from one of the slots that’s supposed to be for a card.

“This is Mirae. I can already tell she’s going to have your eyes and your hair when she grows older,” You can’t help but smile, watching Donghyuck’s every emotion as they move through his face. Surprise, fondness, instant love. “We’re always going to be tied together from now on. Not because of this,” You point to the dragonfly that’s imprinted on his hand, “But because of her.” You point to the picture that he’s gripping tightly.

Donghyuck looks at the photo for what seems like hours. The little girl in the photo is laughing at someone behind the camera, holding a rubber duck in her small hands. She's a perfect mixture between you and Donghyuck, and you’re right, she does have his eyes.

Donghyuck has never felt this much regret in his whole life.

“I have to go,” You say, pulling out your phone when you hear it buzz in your bag to see Mya calling you, “But don’t be a stranger. I never changed my phone number.” And with that, you walk down the stairs. When you get to the bottom, Donghyuck watches you turn and wave to him before disappearing behind the stone wall.

He grips the picture in his hand, not able to look away from his daughter who stares back at him with the same eyes. The sunset has ended and Donghyuck eventually makes the slow walk back down the stairs to find Renjun and Jaemin.

He keeps looking at the picture the entire walk back, thinking about the choices he made when he was younger. He realized he cared a lot about what his marks made him; the sunflower on his knee made him a stranger to his father, and the dragonfly on his left hand made him a stranger to his daughter.

Even though he thought he took the cautionary steps, in the end, he ended up exactly the way he never wanted to be— like his dad

The marks on bodies help guide people to their fate, but there is more to life than fate. Sometimes, you have to take destiny by the reigns and pull it your way. And with this picture— with this new chance to begin again, Donghyuck will do just that.

[remsmoonlight]

— title : a sweet truth

— word count : 2.1k words

— pairing : john wich x reader

— summary : you get an overwhelming need to share with John how you feel, unable to keep it to yourself anymore, leaving only the good to follow.

— warnings : none, issa soft one

note: my first one shot back and it’s john of course! anyways i need to binge the movies again because this man’s voice was difficult to master this time around, now i will be getting to requests now i have indulged myself oops

                    ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*   requests are open !   *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The dull crackle that runs mindlessly beneath the audio of the radio is the only sound that can be heard illuminating the space of the bedroom where you and John lay contently together. He’d offered to repair the object, or even buy another but you refused stubbornly — remarking that it gives it a certain endearing charm. You had joked that it reminds you of him. In the sense that while it has a flaw, it was able to bring joy and amusement to a person’s life. It’s humbling to know that even the John Wick was human, that he had his flaws despite being difficult to witness them in the flesh.

It took a lot for John to bare the darkest and most damaged parts of his conscience. He couldn’t go another day where his mind leapt endlessly to conclusions, his mind conjuring haunting images of your departing body that would eventually come to pass — to him, it was inevitable. He fully convinced himself he was hallucinating when you had not retreated in fear, with the look of disgust cosying up to your reflection, but the opposite. He is still a man greatly feared by a whole world beneath yours, yet you still gaze upon him with nothing but warmth.

You will your mind to focus on the words from the small object, yet it’s the heat that is emitting from his body in waves that prevent you from fully taking in what is being said, its presence doing more to provide white noise than entertainment. The minor glint in your gaze turns upwards to drag your sight across the body that half lays on top of you.

Like vines, to be found in a twist of limbs that would be almost difficult to distinguish what belongs to who is a common occurrence, the sense of shielded from the scorching realities that the world bares boldly is an addicting concoction that you can only find with him. Your heart swells tenfold at the mere thought of him and being here in such a simple way that holds so much affection just for two people.

“ What ? “

The suddenness of his voice lifts you from your thoughts that run their own race, a shy lift of your lips can be seen twirling gracefully in response.

“ Nothing, I’m just thinking. “

“ Thinking? “ he asks you, a light hint of laughter gently coating the question with a feather-like touch. “ Are you trying to scare me? “

Eyes widen in response to what he says, a heavy burst of air plummeting to the soft mattress below the two of you. “ Don’t be so rude! “ A short chuckle trails behind your reply, secretly loving the cheeky side of his personality coming out to peek out.

You’ve realised that he has a warmth whenever you’re together, but even still he maintains an air of such seriousness you’re surprised he has not collapsed under the pressure of holding such a wall up with his bare hands, these moments are the kind that you paint mentally — a still of this moment in a thousand shades of gold. Upon your first meeting of his, you’d never associate that with him, with how intimidating and stone faced he was, it would be a honeyed lie if someone would have described him in such a way but here he is. Not a honeyed lie but a sweet tasting truth that you never want to be without again.

“ I’m sorry. “ he apologises as the amusement in his tones still very much present that would aim to refer to him as a hypocrite, but it’s not spoken with vitriol, his words directed towards you rarely contain any harshness. “ Tell me, I’m curious. “

It’s a minor debate that dances with only itself, zig zagging with a biro pen that creates a mess of lines converging at multiple points to create a tangle plot point that should not be as complicated as it’s being made out. Neither of you have muttered the L word, not even under your breath in passing and the one dominating emotion you can feel overwhelming your body entirely is incredibly close to it.. but is it too soon? Even as a description? It’s a fear you can feel tickling your neck from behind, whispering stained words of discouragement, but if you have learnt anything, it’s that hiding your feelings will be worse off in the long run. Never can a human being strive for the euphoria of authentic happiness clutched in their fist when they lock away their thoughts and their desires in a box to gather age and dust — leaving behind a hollow shell of what could have been had it the opportunity to bud and grow.

“ Well.. “ you begin, your sight lowering to meet the sight of his neck, unable to look him in the eyes fully and you approach the topic. “ I was thinking about you. “

“ Yeah? “

“ I’m just.. happy. More than I thought I could be and it’s you I have to thank. “ Your shoulders shrug as best they can from your position laying down on the bed.

“ I think I should be the one saying that. “ he replies softly, his words ringing truer than they could ever be realised to be as he leans down to leave behind a ghost of a peck behind your ear. It’s an action that is short and sweet.

Never did John imagine himself being rewarded for being the architect in more tragedies and more horrors than he could ever recall. Though, he soon realised your presence was rather the opposite, a ticket to a greener field void of bloodied bargains and death, and should he keep you in his life that would be an opportunity he would not let pass him by in a sea of missed chances left to drown due to his lack of motivation. He gazes upon you fondly in affection, a hand reaching up to draw mindless circles in the back of your hair, memories of his last bargain to leave his previous life playing before him as if an old gritty movie.

“ Stop it, John. I haven’t done a thing! “ your nose wrinkles as you refute what he says with a bashful glint that explodes in your gaze. After all the time you’d spent together and you still refuse to see yourself in the way John has painted you in —

“ You’ve done more for me than you realise. “

It feels like yesterday you shared your first kiss, fondly remembering how you’d mentally remarked that it’s so unfair that what is between you should be so perfect, a cruel joke were it not to work out. Though your heart is full of gratitude when you still tell yourself that not a worry should be had, your need for a physical reminder as you move your hand to his clothed back — bringing him closer as if to burn a permanent reminder into your fingertips.

“ I guess that’s why we compliment each other so well, huh? “

A wispy sigh plummets, your thoughts and emotions mixing more and more into a blend of intensity as you fully realise just how much you have fallen and adore the man who shares your bed. It has been such a long time you have had these emotions to this degree rouse from, what has felt like, an endless slumber. Yes, there had been a few who had caught your eye, but compared to the substance that has been created and nurtured from you both, they had nothing more than a water drop in a boundless and enduring sea. It’s a hope of yours that you don’t look foolish before him, getting so emotional over something like this, you scold yourself mentally — trying to pull yourself together before you completely crumble.

“ What’s wrong? “

“ It’s nothing, really. “ you shake your head, accompanying the almost denial. You want to let everything in your heart free, but the question is how to without scaring him off. There’s not much that can scare him, but you’d rather not throw a spanner in the flawless equation.

“ You don’t have to tell me, but it might help if you do. “ John lends a soothing weight in your hand as he interlocks your fingers together, leaving the choice completely up to you, refusing to force you to share something that is so personal to you. “ it’s your call. “

“ It’s nothing crazy.. “

The side of John’s brain that has been hardwired to jump to every scenario imaginable — good and bad, is running rampant. Itching to be prepared so nothing is able to disrupt the perfect day dream of a life that had only been made available through television shows and movies, now that he has it, every day he promises to never let it be ruined. Nothing good can ever occur from ripping away the first drop of water that touches a person starved of it for days, only a troublesome path of anger can walk that path on its twisted and turned limbs.

“ I think it’s time that I tell you how I feel, “ you state, your lips almost devouring your lips by how hard they bite them, a lost thought of how you have not drawn a drop of blood seeping into irrelevancy. “ how I really feel. “

“ Right? “

For the first time, John is completely unable to get a read of you. The apprehension that is emitting off you in strong waves is not something that comforts him fully, though the fact that you speak not from anger and have opted to stay in your current position as opposed to fleeing is the only source of relief he can continue to draw energy from. Curiosity is the only thing that dominates his mind, wanting desperately to hear the next part of your statement.

In his silence, your brows furrow purely from your own thoughts. Mainly in the wonder of how you can approach this while sounding as if you have capacity and are not obsessed with him as some are with their idols. You know that would be something that would probably scare him off. Your fingertips lay a random beat on the top of his hand, you nestle closer to him as to make yourself comfortable — this does feel like the right time. Should it not? You remind yourself that it is part of a plan that the universe has for you, that it is part of a bigger picture you are not allowed to know until the final moment.

“ I just, “ you pause, blinking as you gather your thoughts and your words further. “ It’s been a long time since I’ve felt anything remotely close to this. “

Your words are like a cozy kiss goodnight before two lovers depart until the next time they see each other, a warmth that slowly grows in his heart overspills at the sentiment you individually wrap with each word you speak. He can’t help but tip his head ever so slightly, to take in every detail on your features — in his mind, nothing is more so perfect than this moment.

“ What I’m trying to say is, and you don’t have to say anything — “ the rambling leaves your lips so effortlessly, as if to savour the last few moments of normally before the inevitable confession. “ I can’t help but realise how much I am in love with you. “

His eyes widen instantaneously as his features follow suit, his lips part in surprise. With how your speech had begun, it should not have come as a surprise, yet to hear it from your lips is as pleasant as the final summer’s day, surrounded by warmth and an impenetrable energy that shields you from any harm that would befall you. He’d lived the life of a haunting ghost story that it soon became a belief that he was a monster, to hear you in this moment recite something so real is something that is difficult for him to wrap his head around. Maybe he isn’t a monster that has made its peace with the darkness, that there is more for him as a person.

The emptiness is soon replaced by a soft weight on your lips, he has leans down to join you — unable to fight the desire to savour the taste of him as you often do when you kiss. It’s a fight you have not yet one, and it’s a fight you imagine you would prefer losing. Time is no longer a concept, you’re too wrapped up in the concept turned reality that is John Wick, only are you able to concentrate on the burning that his free hand leaves as they slide up and down your waist. If this is a dream, neither of you want to awaken.

“ Who says I’m not feeling the same as you? “

[hexfloog]

hex, my beloved, would you share your thoughts on the diplomat murder case with the class

Weeeelllll... if you insist, anon :3

Hex Goes Off(TM) again below the break, surpriiisssee

As it turns out, The Diplomat Murder Case is responsible for a lot of my current HCs about Shinichi/Conan. It's my favorite of the transformation arcs, it's the very first one-- and thus the hardest-hitting, at least when you get to experience it blind-- and also our introduction to transience as a theme, though admittedly I'm probably a bit biased here... Babby Hex has fond memories of sneaking out of bed to watch this one when it still had a slot on the early morning block, so I often come back to these two episodes wearing nostalgia glasses.

Branching off that, I should probably start by saying that for episodes 1-123, I am almost exclusively familiar with the Funimation dub only, which... as the fanbase knows... has its fair share of strange and silly localization choices. I personally find much of it charming and it has no effect on the story or its appeal for me... except when it does (more on that later).

So despite having lost track of how many times I've rewatched this case, my thoughts on it are actually quite scattered - it's the starting place for a lot of the DCMK ideas I currently subscribe to, but those ideas gained their traction in other places (cough, The Desperate Revival, cough), so I apologize beforehand if these aren't bookended well and also idk how to lead into them so IT'S LIST TIME

1) Vices and Expectations

At the time, the idea of Shinichi returning to normal-- let alone temporarily-- was likely one only being entertained by the audience as the setup for (if not the result of) the grand finale. I remember it surprising me, and it's a hell of a move to put forth such a scenario in the first place, only to take it back. Shinichi himself believes the transformation is permanent until it becomes... horribly apparent that it isn't. It's a nasty surprise for everyone, the nastiest of them all (being the very first in a long line of GOT 'EMs), and I think that as a result this is arguably the most powerless he's ever been in his own body, at least for a while. The depiction of the pain he endures is frightening (something I feel is lost in later transformations): freezing on the surface, but burning beneath the skin... like bones made of magma as they die within the flesh-- his heart beating out of his own chest, faster and faster, harder and harder as if to escape its own agony-- the world blurs, nausea takes hold, balance wavering-- 'This is no longer your fortress,' he hears it whisper in his ear... TBH how he can even think coherently at this stage is lost on me. It's shown to be a debilitating process of physical self-destruction and I don't believe for a second someone could acclimate to it, even after repeated transformations which is lowkey why it bothers me a bit that these feel less weighty as time goes on. Control is Shinichi's domain, and the uncertainty which plagues him as he painfully returns to Conan is a peek behind the curtain, a glimpse of the mortality he-- for all his bravado and cool, calm exterior-- is still very capable of realizing.

Although not nearly as dramatic as the next transformation, I personally find this to be a cruel little hint towards Shinichi's vices. Up til now we have not had many (any?) opportunities to explore what really-- and I mean really-- makes him tick. The recklessness he falls prey to when he thinks his old life is within reach again (see: literally every time he's tempted by The Antidote) is teased here-- not overtly, mind, but this first experience with temporary normalcy introduces the idea of hope to Shinichi's world, and the expectation that he can come back to it, actually, is suddenly set. Even if for a brief moment, we see the hands which have wound his potential to self-destruct...

2) Othering

I mentioned in a previous tirade post that the Funimation dub adds some interesting dialogue which is absent from the JP version:

"... From my own mouth, not his!"

...But is substantiated by dialogue which is present in the original:

"Am I turning back into that kid again?!"

"...With my real mouth... and my real voice..."

I find it so, so intriguing that this early on, it's already implied that Shinichi thinks of Conan as an entity separate from himself, despite that obviously not being the case and especially considering that-- here, at episode 49/50-- Conan hasn't really been present for long enough to establish himself as Conan (Ran sleuthing out his Real Identity is still a very real threat at this point, after all). Shinichi rarely mentions Conan by name throughout the case, in all other instances referring to him as something else-- "that kid with the glasses--" and... idk, to me that indicates shame, or fear, or resentment, and just reeks of plain animosity. I know for the sake of appearances he needed to Other Conan in front of Ran and Heiji, but when he's alone with his thoughts... it's not necessary to actively think of Conan like something to be hated unless he really feels that way, unless he really feels vexed by this child, this thing that is both him and not.

I dunno, I just find that fascinating. That one Funimation line is single-handedly responsible for this whole entire HC in my head ahahaaa

3) Heiji, and Hope

My angst-brain is constantly honing in on Shinichi, but The Diplomat Murder Case is pretty important for introducing Heiji, too!! Kaito won't see his DC debut for another twenty or so episodes, so imo it's Heiji, debuting as a rival detective, who first introduces the idea of a possible foil for Shinichi. This... obviously doesn't pan out this way-- quite the opposite-- and the entire premise of Heiji seeking out The Great Detective of the East as his "thousandth sword" only carries a lot more weight after the parallels to Benkei and Yoshitsune are made more plain in Crossroad in the Ancient Capital. So for all intents and purposes (especially since the Funimation dialogue was changed around quite a bit), Hattori's appearance here isn't particularly outstanding in itself aside from being his first, except...

...Except Heiji also introduces the baijiu here, the catalyst for this entire arc and my subsequent observations, the vehicle through which Shinichi becomes aware that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and the knowledge of which Conan repeatedly draws upon whenever the antidote comes up. Given that Heiji eventually discovers Shinichi's secret and, in their friendship, serves as one of his lifelines to his former self (as "companionship," in my head... more on that in another post, maybe), I find it... very striking that he would be the first one to deliver him hope. Good God.

Like Kaito, I want to think about Heiji more in-depth too, but there are better episodes for it... Murderer, Shinichi Kudo

eeeEEEEE okay i'm done tysm for letting me screm anon this case has a special place in my top ten aaAAAaaaahaha

[demonicheadcanons]

can you do a HC of 18th century Obey Me brothers?? I'm super into historical drama at the moment and would love to see classical Obey Me AU

AN: Thanks for sending this in!! I’m not very good with history, so please forgive any mistakes as I have pretty much just skimmed a few different websites trying to find whatever info I could pick up ;u; This isn’t a traditional headcanon set, but rather an overall ‘18th century Devildom’ headcanon. I hope that’s alright!!

It is occurring to me as I write that this probably isn’t what you want at all because this ask says ‘historical drama’. Sorry ;u; I kind of just ran with whatever came to my head.

I make some references to things that happen later on in the game, around Lesson 15/16. I don’t mention anything outright, but there are definitely hints at some spoilers, so please don’t read this if you haven’t gotten that far ^^

Obey Me - 18th Century AU

The brothers are less put-together than they are in the actual game, with a few hundred years less development under their belt. It shouldn’t make much of a difference as they’re all at least a few thousand years old, but because of some issues between the brothers that have been dragged into the Human Realm, the Devildom is a disaster.

Issues like... Satan and Beelzebub have been having an ongoing argument, contributing to the many wars and famines across the globe. In his free time, Satan has been travelling to the human realm and assisting global leaders from the sidelines, to relieve stress and to cause chaos for his own amusement. Beelzebub’s anger causes food to spoil easily in the Human Realm. Belphegor watches it all from the sidelines, enjoying watching the Human Realm crumble under the demons’ grasps. He doesn’t like seeing Beel upset, and encourages him to take it out on the humans. Beel himself is reluctant to do so, and most of the damage he does is accidental. He feels guilty for it, but is confused because it seems to make Belphie a lot happier than he has been.

Diavolo decides to put a stop to it, and settles on an exchange program of sorts. He puts it into action immediately, banning the brothers from travelling to the human realm and pulling a few humans into the Devildom. The first exchange goes... poorly. There isn’t any way for the news to really spread in the Human Realm, so the disappearance of a few humans is easily covered up. The next time, the MC is pulled into the Devildom and put into the care of Mammon, who is less hostile than his other brothers.

Mammon believes he can personally benefit from a stronger bond between humans and demons - he’s already in contact with witches, and it would help him gain their trust. At the same time, he’s also willing to follow Lucifer’s lead irregardless of how reluctant he may seem. Because of this, he puts effort into actually protecting his human this time; last time, things hadn’t gone well, and he really hadn’t enjoyed the cleanup. He hadn’t been attached to the humans then, and now that he feels a pull to the MC he’s going to be by their side constantly so they don’t meet the same fate.

Asmo loves the clothing, and is one of the first to bond with the MC. The secrecy of it all! What do you really look like? Why do you insist on covering up so much? He treats the MC like a forbidden treat, but genuinely loves the outfits they wear and, with a few adaptations, starts trying to get similar clothing trending in the Devildom, with some genuine success. His forward and suggestive nature is somewhere between disturbing and almost refreshing - its nice to be around someone so open once you get used to it.

Levi is the same as ever, but without all of his technology. The Devildom is still more advanced than the Human Realm, but I can see him with a typewriter writing out poetry and such. Perhaps he and Satan are closer during this time, Levi not being quite so much of a shut-in, and the two read and write together at times. Levi also helps contribute when Satan travels to the human realm to cause chaos - he doesn’t really care all that much, but its fun to lead any navy, even if its a pathetic human navy, and it helps him to de-stress and gives him some inspiration for his writing.

This changes when the MC arrives. He meets them on that first day when Mammon runs away, and they still go through with the pact plan. He’s a little less awkward, but still talks down to the human until they break their seemingly quiet and controlled nature and snap at him. It creates an interest for him, because he’s never seen humans up so close when he’s not fighting them, and he’d only paid attention to the fictional humans in his books. He ends up watching the MC and spending time with them when Mammon isn’t, one of the more controlled brothers who doesn’t really feel like hurting them because there isn’t some big game to play on a watery battlefield.

Lucifer is... busy. RAD isn’t what it is yet in the game - its tough trying to wrangle the demons in and to get them to adapt and better themselves. He’s determined to help Lord Diavolo however he can, but between getting everything set up and dealing with his brothers’ outbursts, he’s rarely able to see the MC.

When he does, he’s a bit of a mess, jumping between being proud and acting like a nobleman, to teasing them because before they’ve adapted to Asmo’s nature, their reactions to everything are entertaining. He’ll flirt and be downright inappropriate at times to get a reaction out of them, using it to help him stay calm amidst all the chaos. Because he usually ends up feeling calm or excited around them, he takes a liking to them quickly enough and ends up quite defensive.

He has quieter moments with them, too, if they know how to play the pianoforte. He invites them to play duets together, and likes to listen to them sing or work their way through the sheet music he has laying about. One day they quietly make their way through an old, old song he last heard hundreds of years ago, and he stands silently in the doorway before walking off to spend some time with his brothers, the memories of easier times fresh in his head.

Satan is also a mess but for different reasons. He’s suddenly lost his main output, and now there’s a human here that he’s not supposed to mess with? He might be a little manipulative at first, but one day he walks into the library and the MC is curled up reading one of the many books, or has discovered some of his writings and is smiling to themself as they read it before carefully and gently setting it back where it was. He changes after that, becomes quieter and tends to watch them a lot when the two are in the same room together. Were all humans like this when they weren’t fighting with each other? When they didn’t immediately rise to his words? It’s not that he feels guilty for the things he’s done, because he doesn’t feel he has done much other than offer advice to people already wanting to fight and conquer. But a soft spot develops for the quieter moments in human lives, where they create - through embroidery, drawing, painting, singing, etc. He finds a new output through them.

Beel tends to avoid the human, not wanting them to realise that he’s potentially been a catalyst for some of their struggles in the Human Realm. However, he begins to feel left out as his brothers are all one-by-one getting attached and spending more and more time with the human. They remind him of something, some old memories he’d long since pushed down, and now he isn’t sure whether he wants to remember or forget about them. They become easier, softer, to hold onto with this human around, and so he stays by their side whenever he can. They seem almost enchanted by him too, Beel being different from how most humans present themselves at the time. A common curiosity is what holds the two together, really.

Belphegor stays the same as he is in game. When the two eventually do bond, its because of Beel, and because all of his brothers are already so attached to the MC. He wanders around silently for the first few days he’s able to, watching them read with Satan or sneak into Levi’s room to write letters together, listening to them laugh with Mammon and Beel, and play piano with Lucifer - it’d been so long since he’d heard that song, since he’d heard Lucifer sing like that. Its hard not to get attached, and he realises that there’s no ill will in their heart at all despite everything the demons had done. One day he’s in the planetarium, laying on the floor with his eyes closed, taking a break from watching the stars. The MC walks in and freezes when they see him there, and they lay a blanket over him before leaving, and it settles everything into place for him. He could trust them.

Diavolo throws a lot of balls / parties for everyone to get acquainted, and because he heard it was common in the Human Realm. He has the MC and other humans help to teach the brothers some dances, and in return the brothers and himself teach them dances common in the Devildom. This sparks a jealousy between the brothers, who have all in one way or another, started to become attached to the MC. It becomes a silent battle of who can ask them to dance first, who gets to spend the most time with them, and so on.

Diavolo himself joins in if only to see the brothers reactions, and to see how well his plans have all worked out. The human seems content, seems to feel safe, and they smile calmly up at him and he feels guilty because he himself has accidentally caused harm to their kind before. How can they look up at him as if they’re safe in his arms, how can they laugh as the two dance together, practicing and developing a new dance that combines human and demon tradition together to form something new, to begin a new era? He relaxes over time, especially with Barbatos’ guidance and input. The plans are working and the MC is happy, and he feels like both are equal accomplishments.

Barbatos himself is happy to watch it all from the sidelines. He trusts that Diavolo will lead things where they need to go, and if anything happens, he knows he himself is capable of taking care of it. He finds himself curious about the human, who has settled into a life so different from what it had been. He doesn’t get too involved, but regularly brings them treats and, if he passes them at RAD, asks about how they’re doing. He mainly keeps Diavolo updated on anything he notices.

The angels aren’t brought into the picture yet, but a second exchange program is held shortly after that involves the Celestial Realm as well, and both Simeon and Luke quickly grow attached to the MC. They’ve helped so much with settling the Devildom and helping peace grow between the realms. Luke clings to them and asks about how they can cope around so many demons, and enjoys participating when they bake or draw or paint. Simeon’s interest is quieter, and he mostly enjoys watching how they interact with Lucifer, and seeing what traditions they have kept from the human world. Like Satan and Levi, he finds them to be an inspiration, and asks if he can write a story based on them.

[petri808]

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Inukag Royalty Au *in honor of Tanabata coming up, it was worked into the chapter 😊

“Oh, look Rin, there’s a traveling marionette show today. Do you want to watch?” She and Kagome had been wandering around the marketplace when they stumbled onto it.

“Yeah!” The child squealed in delight. “I’ve seen them before and they’re really good!”

“I think we got here just in time,” Kagome scanned for a seat. “There,” she pointed, “let’s sit down before it starts.”

It was quite amazing to see this group of traveling entertainers. Such troops would pass through her own kingdom, but Kagome was rarely allowed to leave the castle to watch them. From what she could see on their signs, they put on different shows for adults with a variety of acts, and puppet shows for the children, staying for a few days before moving onto the next town. The story they were about to perform was a classic tale of the star-crossed lovers Orihime and Hikoboshi. It was cute, albeit a bittersweet tale of eternal longing. Just as the show was getting ready to start, Kagome felt a body sit down beside her. She glanced over with her peripheral to make sure they weren’t a problem and noticed a familiar set of claws on the persons hands.

“Prince?” Kagome whispered not wanting to draw attention. “What are you doing here?”

“Miroku and I saw you two,” Inuyasha whispered back.

Kagome leaned forward a tiny bit and noticed Miroku on the other side of Inuyasha who nodded in recognition. “I see…”

“We we’re bored,” Inuyasha threw in, “so decided to join you.”

The comment made Kagome chuckle, which then caught Rin’s attention, who looked over and saw the men. The child’s eyes lit up at seeing her uncle and in her excitement, she got off her seat and quickly plopped herself onto Inuyasha’s lap.

“Guess I’m just a chair now,” he chuckled too. "Behave and watch the show or I’ll kick you off my lap.”

“I’m always a good girl,” the child retorted with a grin before turning back to the stage.

And she was. Rin sat enthralled by the whole production. They really were as good as she’d portrayed to Kagome. From the quality of the marionettes to the actor’s voice work, they truly pulled you into the story. But for the adults, it brought on a different wave of emotions, at least it did for Kagome. While the story was beautiful, she could identify with Princess Orihime’s longing for the one she’d fallen in love with despite her father’s rules… and to be torn apart because of it… At least, the Princess in the tale got to see her love once a year. Kagome won’t be able to do the same. She didn’t notice the small frown growing on Inuyasha’s face, because she avoided looking in his direction. He was her Hikoboshi, but she didn’t want him to notice the moisture clouding her eyes or realize how much the story was having an effect on her.

Once the final act was complete, the puppeteers came out from behind the curtain to bow to the audience’s wild applause. It was a great success for most including Rin who was clapping and bouncing on her uncle’s lap with excitement. Kagome was happy the child enjoyed the performance even though it took a toll on her.

“I love this story…” both Kagome and Inuyasha mumble at the same time, causing them to stiffen and turn to face the other.

“You do?” Inuyasha questioned.

“It’s sweet,” Kagome responded with heat coloring her cheeks. “Even though I feel bad for them.”

“Me too.” Inuyasha mumbled. “It’s not fair.”

Her eyes slightly widen, fully understanding what he was feeling in that moment. But as much as she would have loved to say more, Kagome knew she couldn’t, not in public like this.

“What’s not fair?”

Leave it to Rin to bring them back to the present.

“Oh, um,” Kagome quickly gave her attention to the little girl. “What uncle Inu means is it’s sad that Orihime and Hikoboshi only get to see each other once a year.”

After a brief pause, the child’s eyes widened. “Ohhhh,” Rin acknowledged her understanding. “Yeah, that’s not very fair. But at least they found someone.” She turned around and looked up. “Isn’t that a good thing uncle Inu?”

Again, the innocence of a child worked wonders for lightening the mood.

“Yes,” Inuyasha smiled down at his niece. “It is a good thing.” But his eyes drifted towards Kagome as he continued. “I’m sure Hikoboshi appreciates all the time he gets to spend with his Orihime.”

For several seconds the pair hold a gaze with one another. No words needed to communicate a sense of longing despair. Kagome may have been painfully aware of Inuyasha’s insinuation, but so was Miroku. The princes guard cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. “Inuyasha, we should get back to our patrols.” He spoke matter of fact.

“Right,” the hanyo grumped. Miroku constantly warned him about letting his true feelings slip, and even though he knew his friend was just looking out for him, Inuyasha didn’t need to like it. He sighed. “Okay Rin, time to get off. Uncles gotta go back to work.”

“Okay!” Rin jumped off his lap and stood next to Kagome who’d also risen to her feet. “We should finish our shopping and get back to the castle too,” she took hold of the child’s hand. “Say goodbye to your uncle Rin.”

“Bye uncle Inu!” She waved as the pair made their way back into the throng of market goers.

For the rest of the day, Kagome pushed aside the incident in the marketplace. Why think about it when it would only make her sadder at her circumstances, especially since for Rin it had been a fun experience hanging out with her uncle. She didn’t want the child to see that side of life for as long as possible. Even at dinner, Inuyasha was quieter than usual, but Kagome didn’t want to assume anything, so she went about her routines like normal pretending everything was fine. Sometimes it was easier to ignore reality. That is until Rin was already tucked into bed and Kagome headed towards the library to get some reading done. If there was one thing that could take her mind off most things it entailed drowning her thoughts in an academic book.

Most of the time.

Of all the stories that troop could have chosen for a children's play, why a sad love story? Why not a fanciful fairytale like a prince saving a princess from an evil villain or an adventurer searching for treasure and fame? But it wouldn’t be fair to pin all her woes on the performers. The Tanabata story was a popular one after all. Kagome sighed as she shifted in her seat to pull her legs up and under her body. The book she'd chosen was about medicinal herbs because she was curious about useful treatments. She'd hoped the interest would be enough to pull her away from thinking about the play, but it wasn't working. Maybe she just needed to give herself more time to process everything. 'Or maybe you need to do the opposite and stop thinking about anything!' Kagome chided herself. She really did need to stop letting her emotions control her. 'You're supposed to be hiding out here, remember?!'

It was the sound of approaching footsteps that caused Kagome to stop reading and look up from her book. Was it a guard? Nope, just Inuyasha.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Inuyasha dropped onto the couch next to her. “I didn’t know who else to turn to.”

“Inuyasha? What’s wrong?” She put the book down when she saw the anger brimming in his eyes. “Did something happen?”

The prince let out an annoyed sigh. “I just had a huge fight with my dad.”

“A fight? Over what?”

“You.”

“Me?!” Her eyes widened. “Did I do something wrong?!”

“No, no, not you,” he grabbed her hands. “It’s all me. I… I-I told him— I told him that I refuse to honor the agreement to marry someone else. He wouldn’t even tell me who she is, so how would I ever be okay with it? I just can’t! Not when I’m already in love…”

Kagome swallowed back hard. “You are?”

His grip tightened, gaze turned serious and focused. “I told him I was in love with you. Kagome I can’t deny that anymore no matter how much I tried.”

“But you know we can’t—”

“I know, I know, it’s crazy, but after that story…” Inuyasha let go of her hands for a moment to gesticulate. “I just couldn’t stop thinking about it! I told him I’d rather stay single for the rest of my life if it meant still being around you… even if that’s all I get to have. I just want to stay in your life in any way I can.”

Kagome didn’t know what to say. With all her heart she wished it could work, but knowing she too was living a lie that she couldn’t reveal coupled with such a major potential for scandal… her voice lowered in hesitation. “Inu this is crazy…”

“Do you love me?” Is all Inuyasha blurted out.

“Yes—” she spoke from the heart, “but—”

Inuyasha took her hands again and brought them to his chest. “Then that’s enough for me.”

Despite his efforts to reassure her, Kagome couldn't be happy about this declaration of love. She'd heard some of the whispers starting around the castle about their forbidden relationship. What if someone started to talk? What if someone started to question her true origins? All it would take is someone mentioning to the wrong person the woman in the castle who'd stolen the prince’s attention. And what about the royal family? How will they treat her now? Will they see her as a jezebel? A woman who’d infiltrated their life to cause problems?? Kagome shook her head. “But there must be consequences!” She knew all too well as a hypocrite, the rippling damages that could occur from breaking such trusts. “You don’t just break an agreement like that without consequences.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you, I give you, my word. As for me, I can handle my dad. He was angry but believes he can make it work, probably honor the rest of the deal just minus the marriage part.”

“Which was?”

“In exchange for the marriage, we guaranteed to protect that kingdom. They’re smaller than us, so they really have no choice but to take the amended deal because it at least assures them of safety.”

Kagome was so torn in that moment about what to do. She couldn't tell him the truth yet, not because she didn't trust him, but because she didn't want to burden him with it. If anyone were to find out who she really was, they might notify her parents and her life at the palace would truly be over with. It was selfish, but could anyone blame her? This was the first time in her life she's experienced freedom and happiness. Ugh, why’d she have to fall in love with Inuyasha? Why’d Inuyasha have to fall in love with her? Is fate always so cruel? First the idea of an arranged marriage, but now to be stuck in a forbidden one. Was she cursed? Were they both cursed?

“Y-You’re sure your father won’t hold this against me? Because I-It wasn’t planned. I never intended for any of this to happen.” The tears had begun to fall down Kagome’s cheeks at the enormous weight levied onto her shoulders.

“Neither had I,” Inuyasha wiped at the tears and cradled her cheek. “Neither of us could have controlled what our hearts desired.”

“But I’m scared Inu…”

“I swear on my life nothing will happen to you and if it comes to it, we’ll run away, far away and hide just me and you.” He leaned their foreheads together. “I don’t care about my title. I just want to be with you.”

“I wanna be with you too,” Kagome breathed out.

“Then have faith in our destiny.” Inuyasha tilted Kagome’s face up and swept his lips over hers, earning a shivering sigh. He then centered and placed pressure into a deeper kiss.

Kagome melted into the kiss as her fingers moved up and gripped to his shirt. Let her fears be damned in that moment, for if this earned her banishment in the end, just tasting his lips this once… she could die happy knowing she’d felt love. It was more than she ever thought she’d achieve in this gilded life.

“I’ll try,” she whispered an honest answer. “In you… I’ll believe…”

[ibijau]

Hey, you said prompts are still open? If so, can you write something where jin guangshan is giving lan xichen 'unwanted attention'? Hopefully xisang?

Oops, this isn’t really xisang, and in fact mostly focuses on jgy. I finished this a few weeks ago actually, but just... forgot to post it? somehow??

 warning for implied rape, especially against minors

It is bad enough when Jin Guangshan looks at women like that. Every time Jin Guangyao catches his father’s lecherous glances toward servants, entertainers, girls of good birth or, on a few repulsing occasions, his own daughter-in-law, he finds himself shivering with uncontrollable disgust. He shouldn’t mind, it’s just traces of the brothel clinging to him even now. A man like Jin Guangshan is allowed to look however he pleases at whoever he likes, and Jin Guangyao is acting like the whore’s son he is whenever he silently disapproves.

Jin Guangshan looking at women inside his house is nothing at all like patrons looking at the girls at the brothel. Jin Guangyao knows those servants aren’t going to be cheated, he knows they get compensated for submitting to their master’s desires, he knows that Jin Guangshan isn’t foolish enough to make advances to women he shouldn’t want, not when there are so many pretty girls he can buy. Jin Guangyao knows this, because it is part of his job to compensate his father’s flings. Jin Guangshan has decided he would know how to handle this.

Jin Guangyao hates that his father was right about that. He knows how to deal with crying girls, how much money to give them (more than he should, but no one has noticed yet), how to find them work elsewhere once Madam Jin has figured out what’s happening and they must be asked to leave. Jin Guangyao deals with all this easily.

What he can’t deal with is seeing his father start looking at Lan Xichen.

There are not many people Jin Guangyao cares about. His mother is dead. Nie Mingjue, whom he once admired, now terrifies him. He has some vague affection for Nie Huaisang, who is a little stupid but likeable, and for Jin Zixuan and his wife, who are both trying their best to be kind to him. He loves his father. He has to. He refuses to consider the alternative, however tempting it is sometimes, in the dark of night, after another incident where Jin Guangshan treated him worse than he treats some servants.

Jin Guangyao loves his father, like the dutiful son he is.

He also loves Lan Xichen, the only brother he truly wants in his life.

If it were anyone else that Jin Guangshan had newly set his eyes on, Jin Guangyao could ignore it. His father rarely bothers with men, but he does on occasion. Those boys usually have to be paid more than the girls. 

Jin Guangshan is not kind to the boys he takes to bed.

If it were anyone else pestering Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao would find ways to deal with them, either on his own through veiled threats, or by carelessly mentioning it next to Nie Mingjue, who would have the power to make very open threats.

But it is Lan Xichen, it is Jin Guangshan, and Jin Guangyao is torn between loyalties.

So he does what he is best at, and maintains the status quo until he's forced to pick a side. 

Or at least, he tells himself that's all he's doing. If he prefers to meet his sworn brothers away from Lanling these days, it is only because Nie Mingjue is such an annoyance for Jin Guangshan. And certainly Lan Qiren is always invited alongside his nephew at conferences and official meetings lately, and then placed closer to Jin Guangshan than his nephew, but that is only because Jin Guangyao knows the Lan sect value seniority high above actual rank. And when his father does manage to strike a conversation with Lan Xichen, Jin Guangyao makes sure to stick around, suddenly deaf and blind to his father’s little signs that he wants time alone with whoever was unlucky enough to have caught his eye.

Afterward, his father always scolds him over some minuscule detail he thinks went wrong at that conference, but only because he dares not say out loud what truly bothered him.

Jin Guangshan is a man who openly lusts after any woman, but his taste for pretty boys and delicate men is where he draws the line for shame. Jin Guangyao finds him ridiculous for this, but in this case, it plays to his advantage and helps him protect Lan Xichen.

For weeks and weeks, Jin Guangyao continues that delicate balancing act, but the more time passes, the harder it is. There is just too much to think about lately, especially with Jiang Yanli approaching her term (the child will be born early apparently, and Jin Guangyao has suspicions… the idea must have come from Jiang Yanli, he thinks. Jin Zixuan is too awkward, too openly disgusted by his father’s behaviour, and more importantly too terrified of his mother). There’s also the continued headache of Wei Wuxian’s mysterious behaviour, the sect he may or may not have established in the Burial Mounds of Yiling. Jin Guangyao can’t get any information on that. The only cultivator to have been on the Burial Mounds since Wei Wuxian seceded from Yunmeng Jiang is Lan Wangji, who isn’t exactly the sort to gossip. And then, when he has a little time for himself, Jin Guangyao has allowed himself to chat here and there with the oh-so-lovely Qin Su who is always so happy to see him, and is so understanding when he has little time to devote to her. All this on top of his normal work of course.

There seems to be a lot more of that lately, too. Jin Guangyao would not ever accuse his father of punishing him for his interference regarding Lan Xichen, but it takes great effort to not think about it.

Jin Guangyao is starting to feel truly exhausted, but he just borrows medicine from the doctors to keep going, and prays that things will calm down when his father is given a grandson.

Two months before the planned date of birth (a little under a month before the actual, honest planned date), Jin Guangyao’s sworn brothers come visit him. They explain that they’ve been worried about him. Jin Zixuan, charming imbecile that he is, has written to them to say that his half-brother looks badly in need of a break, and surely Jin Guangshan won’t be able to deny him one if two sect leaders are here to demand his company, right?

Jin Guangyao, while very touched that his brother would care enough to do this, still wants to strangle him.

Without surprise, instead of Jin Guangyao being allowed to spend time with his sworn brothers, the two men are quickly swept away by Jin Guangshan to discuss new rumours coming from the Burial Mounds. Since Nie Mingjue is there, nothing should happen to Lan Xichen, but Jin Guangyao finds himself increasingly anxious. He’d thought his father was just on the verge of getting over his fancy for Lan Xichen after seeing so little of him recently, but this will just reignite that fire and ruin all his hard work.

Jin Guangyao is in his office, trying to get some work done, when Nie Huaisang drops by.

Worried as he was about seeing Lan Xichen near his father, Jin Guangyao hadn’t noticed that Nie Mingjue had brought his brother along. It’s unusual, really. Nie Huaisang doesn’t much like Carp Tower apparently, and always finds some excuse to be absent from events organised there. Jin Guangyao suspects that he just finds Jin tastes too tacky for his refined preferences.

“San-ge, here you are!” Nie Huaisang exclaims, closing the door behind him and running to Jin Guangyao’s desk. “You left so quickly earlier! And here I was so happy to see you again… it’s been too long, really too long!”

Jin Guangyao half smiles. “I’m very sorry. And sadly, since I didn’t know you were coming, I don’t have any present for you this time, so…”

Nie Huaisang gasps, one hand on his heart, then pouts in what he clearly must think is an adorable manner. “San-ge, I am offended! I don’t like you just for the trinkets you get me, you know! I just like when people are nice to me. And speaking of that…”

Taking on a conspiratorial expression, Nie Huaisang glances around as if fearful he might be heard, before leaning over Jin Guangyao’s desk until he’s all be sprawled over it.

“Jin zongzhu really is nice with Er-ge lately,” Nie Huaisang remarks, opening his fan and half hiding behind it. “Very nice indeed, isn’t he?”

It takes all of Jin Guangyao’s self control not to grimace. If even someone like Nie Huaisang has noticed… though at the same time, it might not be so surprising. Jin Guangyao has suspected for a while now that Nie Huaisang too looks a little too much at Lan Xichen, even if he hasn’t yet figured out the exact reason. Sexual desire is one option, but it could also be just admiration, or even envy: Nie Huaisang probably wishes he could have been born in Gusu Lan which better fits his interest.

Jin Guangyao has wondered, on occasion, why he can never seem to pinpoint Nie Huaisang’s motivation in doing certain things. If Nie Huaisang weren’t such a charming little idiot, it might worry him. Instead, he mostly ignores it. Nie Huaisang, in the grand scheme of things, is entirely irrelevant to Jin Guangyao’s life.

“Huaisang, are you perhaps jealous?” Jin Guangyao can’t help but tease.

Immediately Nie Huaisang makes a face, his expression far more disgusted than would have been expected.

“Jealous? Of not getting that old fart’s attentions?”

“That’s my father, Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao mildly objects, a little stunned. Nie Huaisang is rarely that open about liking or disliking anyone. His personality is too mild and easy going for any intense emotions.

“Some father he is,” Nie Huaisang retorts, lazily fanning himself, sending some of Jin Guangyao’s paperwork flying everywhere. “And don’t try to defend him, I know you hardly like him any more than I do. And I know you’re almost as unhappy as I am that he’s always looking at er-ge. I’m only mostly stupid, you know. I see what you’ve been doing, even if others don’t pay attention.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Jin Guangyao dryly retorts, pushing Nie Huaisang away from his desk so he can put some order back in his papers.

So he can put some order in his thoughts as well. To have been seen and understood by someone like Nie Huaisang is a discomforting experience. It means he really must have been transparent in his efforts. No wonder his father has been so unhappy with him lately… and that’s the only reason Jin Guangyao will consider, of course. It is all because of this situation with Lan Xichen, all because of his divided loyalty, or else Jin Guangshan would have mellowed before his efforts already.

Jin Guangyao should just give in and let Lan Xichen fend for himself. It is ridiculous to think of protecting a man like the great Zewu-Jun, anyway.

Jin Guangyao should just allow for events to follow their natural course.

He would, if he didn’t know his father’s tendencies.

“You know, it’s not the first time Jin zongzhu starts looking at someone high ranking that he shouldn’t be looking at,” Nie Huaisang casually says. “He likes to establish his dominance over others, if you haven’t noticed yet.”

Jin Guangyao freezes, and shoots Nie Huaisang a curious look. The young man shrugs and closes his fan with a sharp movement, before going to pick up some papers that flew further away from the desk.

“If there’s a sect that feels weak, he’ll try to take advantage,” Nie Huaisang says as he kneels down to grab the documents. “He can’t do it with Yunmeng Jiang, because if he touches a single hair of Jiang Cheng or worse, Jiang Yanli, Wei Wuxian is going to come down from the Burial Mounds and slaughter everyone. That’s the only reason he hasn’t touched her, and you know it.”

With a slight grimace, Jin Guangyao nods. The way his father looks as his own daughter-in-law sometimes is… well. It’s good for her that her brothers are so temperamental and powerful.

“He can’t go after the Nie sect, he’s tried before and that didn’t go well for him,” Nie Huaisang casually continues, turning his back to Jin Guangyao as he meticulously tries to organise the papers he’s gathered. “But the Lan sect… ah, they’re easy pickings at the moment, right?”

“I’m sure Lan Xichen can stand for himself,” Jin Guangyao politely replies. “Though your concern is very touching.”

“I know your father’s methods,” Nie Huaisang retorts, still keeping his back turned. “And I think you know them too, because I know who pays his victims for their silence. He still uses that same drug, eh? Well, if it works…”

Jin Guangyao shivers at the other man’s tone. Suddenly, Nie Huaisang doesn’t sound like his bubbly, hare-brained self, and more like a colder version of his brother.

It suddenly occurs to Jin Guangyao that Nie Huaisang really is too frequently absent from events taking place in Lanling, and that he often disappears quickly even when his brother drags him there.

It also occurs to him that with how often Nie Mingjue has complained against his brother’s reluctance, he cannot know what caused it. Nie Mingjue isn’t one to play pretend. He also isn’t one to let insults or attacks against his brother go unpunished. Nie Huaisang knows that as well. And with how powerful the Nie sect is at the moment, a danger even to Lanling Jin, it makes no sense for Nie Huaisang to have kept secrets if something happened to him recently. Not that anything could have happened without Jin Guangyao knowing anyway. Dealing with his father’s partners was one of the first duties he’s been given upon rejoining Lanling Jin after the war, he would have known.

Unless it happened before the war.

Nie Huaisang stayed an awful long time in Gusu for his studies, and while he can be charmingly stupid, he’s got a pretty decent memory and excellent manners, so studying in the Cloud Recesses should have been easy for him… unless he didn’t want to leave too early. Perhaps if he’d gotten in trouble with someone powerful, he thought that being stuck in Gusu would make it easy to avoid that person. But then, if something happened before that, Nie Huaisang would have been so young, only just…

Jin Guangyao shivers, and wishes he were more surprised. His father’s tastes aren’t unknown to him. He isn’t too picky with women, but he likes boys more than he likes men.

“Er-ge knows to be careful,” Nie Huaisang says lightly, standing up again, a cheerful smile on his lips. “I’ve told him about some of the things I’ve heard happened to pretty boys in Lanling. But he’s also the sort who doesn’t want to believe the worst of people, and anyway, sooner or later, his vigilance might slip. Besides, isn’t it awful, always having to be on your guard like that? Ah, it must be the worst. You would know, of course?”

“My father will soon have a grandchild,” Jin Guangyao replies dryly. “He’ll have better things to do than look at pretty faces. It’s just a matter of waiting.”

“Maybe he will, maybe he won’t,” Nie Huaisang snaps, dropping a pile of paper on Jin Guangyao’s desk. “I know what I’d bet on. And I know it’s not a risk I’m willing to take, anyway. I know what sort of a man your dear daddy is, A-Yao, and I don’t want certain things to happen to my er-ge. So if Jin zongzhu doesn’t keep his hands to himself…”

Jin Guangyao shivers again. A shichen ago, he’d have laughed if anyone had told him that Nie Huaisang would ever try to intimidate him. Now though, seeing that smile devoid of warmth that’s just a touch too sharp and the feverish glint in those delicate eyes, Jin Guangyao can’t help feeling some genuine worry.

“Huaisang, are you trying to threaten my father?” Jin Guangyao laughs.

“No. I’m threatening you, A-Yao,” Huaisang announces, dropping his smile. He really does look too much like Nie Mingjue when he’s serious. “Deal with your father, or I will. And we both know that I just have a few things to say to my brother to send him in a rampage. And if he’s that angry, do you think he’ll really care that you vaguely tried to help Lan Xichen?”

Jin Guangyao freezes at the thought. Nie Mingjue doesn’t like him even when he’s in a good mood, so there’s no doubt he wouldn’t feel a shred of hesitation before lumping Jin Guangyao together with his father. Depending on how Nie Huaisang frames the situation, Jin Guangyao really might look like an accomplice. Hasn’t he helped his father deal with his lovers in the past? He’s never been made to help get those boys and girls into Jin Guangshan’s bed, not yet, but being the one to keep them quiet after, isn’t it worse?

Nie Mingjue will surely think it’s worse, since it’s Jin Guangyao doing it.

“A-Yao, I’m really glad we had this little talk,” Nie Huaisang chirps, suddenly all smiles again, as if there had never been a single thought in that pretty little head of his. “We should chat more! But I know you are so, so busy, so I’ll let you be for now. Still, give this some thought, alright? And if you need help, don’t hesitate to ask. Maybe we didn’t make a big production of it like with da-ge and er-ge, but I’m your friend too!”

Happy and cheerful once more, Nie Huaisang leaves with a spring to his step.

Alone at his desk, Jin Guangyao presses a hand against his mouth to fight the nausea that an intense wave of terror is causing. That it was caused by Nie Huaisang, of all people, almost makes him break into hysterical laughter, or perhaps it makes him want to cry. The two are equally likely, and only the self control he’s learned in Wen Ruohan’s service prevent him from exploding in such a disgraceful manner.

And so, when he calms down at last, Jin Guangyao finds himself divided again.

Before, he had wondered who he was most loyal to, between his father and his one true friend.

Now, by contrast, he must decide who terrifies him most between Jin Guangshan and Nie Mingjue.

And he knows no matter the answer, blood must be spilled if he is to survive this.

[5-falsehoods-phonated]

(Prompts with boxes have been taken, highlighted have been written)

Requests for this card are closed, thank you to anyone who sent in requests! If you don’t want to see these you can block the tag #false bthb. As always shoot me an ask if you wanna be tagged in future stories, whether it be for bad things happen bingo or any of the other series, one shots or in general!

I’ve been picking at this particular request since early December as the person who requested it had a lot of details they wanted put in making the writing process a bit more challenging. As a disclaimer, note that the chapter is split between present time and the past; with Logan recalling things in his past in an attempt to make the details requested for the story flow better. I received this request from AO3.

General taglist: @im-an-anxious-wreck

Experimental Socialization

Summary: Logan was raised by the government to be nothing more than an experiment and a weapon, utilizing his unique abilities as a mutant. When he finally escapes things are much different than he imagined they’d be but thankfully finds others like him willing to help guide him right where he needs to be.(Happy Ending)

Warnings: allusions to abuse, physical punishment and human experimentation, tw for weapons and fire, panic attack. If there are more please let me know

Prompt; Not Used To Freedom (requested by AngstyEmoGal on AO3)

Ships: Intrulogical, Logan x Remus

WC: 3432

“You just gotta breathe, Logan. In four, hold seven, out eight remember? You’re doing great, just keep going.”

Logan felt himself slowly coming back to reality as his breathing evening out, the raw panic that had gripped his chest easing slightly as Virgili continued coaxing him through the exercise. He felt the other slowly rub up and down his arm in a slow, steady beat that helped ground him further in reality and he smiled up at his friend gratefully and nodded to let xem know he was okay. Gripping his knees as Virgil’s voice trailed off he squeezed his eyes shut tightly and let out one last calming breath.

“Thank you, Virgil. I-” He struggled to find words, gesturing flippantly in the air making Virgil grin.

“It’s okay. Take your time, L.”

Logan puffed his cheeks out in frustration, thoughts swirling too quickly for him to comprehend anything but the apprehensive fear he held for the plans Remus had made for them later that evening. “I am- not used to being outside. Given my history and the threat I pose as a potential compromise to our place of hiding I fail to understand Remus’ reasoning for going out when we could just as easily celebrate our relationship here.”

“Hm.” Virgil leaned back on xyr hands and looked up at the low ceiling of their underground paradise. “Can’t really see the stars from here, no matter how many stickers Princey finds and puts up it can't really be compared to the real thing.”

Logan had made the mistake of going on a tirade of space facts a few months into his stay in the hideout, Remus patiently listening to the extensive infodump of constellation facts and space physics and planetary rotation. Having a limited amount of books to entertain oneself with for extended periods of time meant memorizing entire books on one subject, which Logan had used all too happily as a figurative escape from his situation in the past until he had actually managed to escape when he was 16. Hearing Logan speak so passionately about the subject had apparently made his mind up that he was taking Logan outside for their first “official” date to view the stars, which had then landed Logan in his current state of panic as he realized that date was today and he was decidedly not ready for what might lay in store outside of safety of the hideout.

“I can stay close by if you want. I won’t spy or anything and Remus won’t have to know.” Logan looked over as his thoughts were interrupted by the offer, Virgil turning invisible and reappearing a couple seconds later to emphasize xyr point. Smiling Logan shook his head, knowing the other derived as much joy from going outside as Logan felt about going himself.

“Thank you for the offer though, you’re very kind.” Letting his thoughts drift again he idly wondered when Virgil had discovered xe could disappear and reappear at will and if xyr parents had tried to hide it before the government had found out. His own parents-

-----

“Logan?” A very small Logan turned at his mother’s voice, losing his concentration which made the hidden jar of Crofters fall from its suspended place in the air and smash to the floor. His parents hadn’t known he possessed any sort of powers, and even as small as he was he still understood the position he’d put them in if they ever found out. Fearfully his hands dropped to his sides as his mother covered her mouth in shock, tears rolling down her cheeks as she took a step back.

Men in suits and long coats were there just a few hours later, speaking in hushed voices while both of his parents cried and he was ushered out the door and into an unmarked car, quiet as he understood yelling and crying would do him no good now. What’s done was done, all he could do was be compliant and hope to be treated gently.

-----

The room suddenly brightening with a flickering light brought him back out of his thoughts, Roman entering with his signature bright flame held proudly in his hand. The image of him in his rather scrapped together Princely outfit posing subconsciously in the doorway was almost enough to make Logan roll his eyes but he didn’t want Virgil to think it was because of xem so he managed to restrain himself.

“My dearest brother has been pacing in the same spot for two hours now and I haven't been able to calm him down soooo I thought to check on our resident nerd.” Roman declared with his usual flare. Logan actually did roll his eyes this time but Virgil did as well so he figured it was fine.

“The ‘resident nerd’ is doing fine, Roman. Though it's concerning to hear Remus is nervous as well considering he’s the one who suggested the date.”

Roman waved his hand at Logan dismissively. “He’s just a sap- moreso than me surprisingly. He doesn’t want to do anything to put you in danger but he wants to do something nice, so he’s worried that’s all. Remus is an idiot but I trust him with my life; believe me when I say you have nothing to worry about except his terrible sense of humor.”

Logan merely hummed in response, staring at the way the flame moved around as Roman gestured with his words.

-----

He panted as he rolled out of the way of another flamethrower, singeing the tips of his hair in the process but he couldn’t afford to slow down enough to worry about that. Years of training with different fighting styles had earned him incredibly fast reflexes but a good portion of his accuracy in knowing where to step and when was owed to him working even harder to focus his powers. Thoughts from others constantly surrounded him on a regular basis, getting more and more prevalent the older he grew. Learning to block out the constant string of stimuli was a useful skill to keep him sane but learning to hone in on specific thoughts to predict actions was what had kept him alive.

He ducked below another bullet and brought up his leg in the same motion, kicking a throwing knife to the side and sending it to clatter harmlessly between one of his assailants feet. A twirl to the side and a tilt of the head let another bought of flame boil the air beside him while another knife just barely brushed his ear. The constant bang of bullets and roar of flames and whistling of knives was overwhelming and made the air so thick he could barely draw a breath and it was becoming a struggle to concentrate the way he needed to and-

A high pitched alarm sounded one, twice, three times- a blaring flash accompanying it that left him blinking painfully. His shoulders slumped as the barrage finally ended, another successful training day completed. He watched as everyone began putting their weapons away, laughing and congratulating each other, clapping themselves on the back and discussing whatever they had planned after this. No one even spared the thing they had been firing at seconds before a spare glance, save for the director of the branch, who took long steps forward to stand in front of him only to snap his fingers and motion forward no doubt to see him back to his room until dinner. Absorbing the sounds around him he drank in as much praise as he could that wasn’t his and would never be for him; people rarely congratulated weapons after all.

-----

“Is this where we all decided to hide today?” Logan looked up to see Patton sitting cross legged on one one of the beams in the ceiling, grinning happily down at them even as their fluffy ears twitched nervously and even fluffier tail whipped back and forth in agitation. They must have come back from trying to calm Remus as well, Logan mused; Patton had never done well being in the same room as Remus who tended to voice his thoughts abruptly and without much care to how they might sound to others which always managed to set Patton on edge no matter how hard they tried not to show it.

Patton was a rare mutant in that as opposed to being born with abnormal traits or abilities they had been a science experiment from the start- an effort to create super soldiers rather than stealing them away from families and training them. Even rarer was the fact that the DNA splicing had taken extraordinarily well by pure chance as Patton was born with a mutation that left their DNA incredibly malleable- a mutation that never would have been discovered had cellular manipulation not been the reason for them being in the experimental branch that they were. They had tried cloning Patton at first to see if their power could be duplicated but when that failed to work they began trying to combine them with different animals to see if desirable traits would come forward. By manipulating them on a physical and anatomical level they were able to change some parts of them to be more cat like, intending, Patton had guessed, to turn them into a kind of stealth soldier but they got away before they completed it, leaving them with heightened agility and surgically coaxed cat ears and a tail. They were only a child when the lab had done this but somehow they were never bitter, simply preferring to leave their past alone and embrace whatever future they could make- a trait Logan greatly admired them for even if their unending optimism could be somewhat grating at times.

“Did Janus brush your tail out Pat? It looks fluffier today.” Patton preened at Virgil's compliment, their tail beginning to wave in a more relaxed manner as their mind was distracted from whatever it was Remus had been ranting about.

“He did! He found a cat brush and got it for me so I could finally get the undercoat out!” Jumping down and landing lightly on their feet they posed a little and flashed another wide grin.

“Beautiful as always, Patton.” Roman said genuinely as he lowered his hand into a barrel to light up the paper scraps and wood in it for the night, the dim sunlight that had filtered through the grated having long since died. The home was a modified branch of a sewer system, thankfully the part most removed from the city where it flowed without the stench and was sealed off inconspicuously enough that in the ten years Janus and Remus had been using it no worker had ever found it.

-----

It had been Janus and Remus who had found him, beaten and bloody from an escape attempt he had made just days before his real one. He had made a weak attempt to coax the scientists into a false sense of security, holding back the full scoop of his powers during training for a year in anticipation for his final escape. He had punished severely but had simply thrown him in his regular cell, assuming he wasn’t strong enough to do any more damage than they had seen him do already and trusting that they had beaten him down enough that it would be a while before he tried again- if he ever did. Not six days later the mangled metal of the front of his cell was tossed into a group of guards, walls torn apart in a straight line to the exit and the huge buzzing gates leading to the outside world thrown open wide and stuck there with varying amounts of heavy debris.

The outside world, as it turns out, was a lot bigger and louder and downright terrifying when you weren’t being sent out as a personal assassin or field missions or training sessions- all controlled on some level to keep him from being killed and compromised. Without the begrudged protection from the labs and moreover having to hide from said lab was another story entirely. The times they searched for him and how closely they came to his spots were random and made it incredibly hard for him to pick out their thoughts from anyone else’s in the city and figure out how close they were. On more than one occasion they passed right by him crouched under piles of garbage or laying low under a hedge, his breath held as he tried desperately to keep himself as still and quiet as possible, thoughts of what they would to him once they found him pounding against his head and making him squeeze his eyes shut to keep his terrified tears from falling.

That was how Remus had found him. It had been dark and hours had passed since the searchers had left that park he had been hiding in. He had still been hiccuping down his sobs as he rolled out from under the hedge that he hadn’t bothered to scope the area for anyone’s close by thoughts, having shut out as much as he could after they had left to try and block out any other hate fueled thoughts that may send him spiraling again. His heart had leapt in his throat so high his breath caught painfully, immediately shifting to offense as he tensed, ready to fight as long and hard as he could. He couldn’t go back- he wouldn’t. No matter what they did or promised him or punished him with; he’d go down fighting or not at all.

But Remus had only raised his hands in the air in a motion of peace, eyes widening as he locked onto the government issued bracelet that marked him as an experimental mutant. He had grinned impossibly wide then Logan remembered, briefly disappearing from his sight and reappearing a moment later, setting him even more on edge but curious nonetheless.

“I’m like you.” Remus had said quietly. “Basically I run real fast and the government hasn’t figured out how to get me yet.”

Logan had watched as he jiggled his wrists a bit for emphasis, bare save for colored chords that he assumed didn’t associate him with any government branch since they didn’t look official.

“Are you okay?” Remus had asked next and mutely Logan nodded, unsure of how to react to this fellow mutant who had never been caught by any sort of lab, apparently living as free as one could when you were as different as they were. He stepped back as another man appeared behind him, Janus he later learned.

“Liar.” Janus had hissed, making Remus reach around and smack the back of his head.

“It was a polite thing to ask that he tried to dismiss Jan. Let the adults speak for a second.”

Logan had noted the faint pout on Janus’ face though he was still trying very hard to look intimidating. And then all at once his eyes had turned cold as his attention was once again focused on Logan, glaring menacingly from beneath a black bowler hat. “I’m younger than you and yet I’m the one that has to put my foot down. He’s being chased clearly; we are not bringing him back with us.”

Remus has turned, Logan seemingly forgotten for the moment. “That’s not how it works! He needs help and we’re not leaving him to starve or be found in the middle of a park! What would Patton say?”

“Patton is a soft fool who needs to figure out where their morals stand. I myself am choosing not to compromise our place of hiding and three other people that you know those power hungry idiots would love nothing more than to get their hands on!”

Remus rolled his eyes so hard his head had lolled with it, face going pale as he watched something in the sky. It was then that Logan heard the telling sound of a helicopter flying low and getting closer but he had barely tensed before he found himself gripped around the middle and held vertically with the ground flying underneath him. They stopped abruptly and he was set down, blinking in rapid confusion as Remus grinned sheepishly at him.

“Welcome to the hideout?”

Logan’s eyes had widened and his breath had caught yet again, chest tightening as he shook his head vehemently. “You can’t- I need to go back! They’ll do anything to get me back-!”

He was stopped from going forward with a finger to his chest, his blue eyes locking with beautiful brown as Remus held his gaze. “And we will do everything to keep you safe.”

Safe. With that one word Logan was his. He hadn’t known why and he still didn’t quite understand it but he had trusted Remus with everything he had- and he still did. Even as Janus had stalked off grumbling and Virgil and Roman had kept their distance at first Remus had kept him close and showed him how much better his life could be, even if they were living in a modified sewer system.

Back in the present he looked up as a hand was thrust under his chin, smiling softly as he took Remus’ hand and let himself be led away from the others’ idle chatter. He counted himself extremely lucky in the end that Janus had eventually come around to him, seeing how happy he made Remus and how Remus made Logan feel it had been him to finally talk to Logan about it and get the two to officially talk about how they felt, going on about the being “hopeless gay idiots” when they had finally started to date officially. Logan wasn’t sure what he’d do without Remus at this point, just a year later and he was so attached to their small group of hideaways he wouldn’t trade for the world.

They approached the exit to the sewers, Remus swinging their hands between them. Logan held his breath right before they crossed the threshold, closing his eyes and letting it out slowly as his feet met grass and he opened his eyes to the darkened field. There were a few tunnels that lead out to different places depending on where they needed to go and this, Remus had told him, was his favorite because of how empty it was. The city lay far in the distance so there was almost no light pollution to block out the sky. Soft grass and flowers brushed his ankles as he scanned the area carefully, seeing nothing but trees lining the far end of the field with a road so far away he could barely, make it out in the darkness. Remus tugged his hand softly to get his attention, searching his eyes for any hint of discomfort.

“Is this okay?’

Logan took another breath and let it out, the last of his nerves fading away as he took in the quiet. “It’s perfect Remus.”

The other grinned and tugged a little harder this time, walking fast to the middle of the field where he stopped suddenly and raised Logan’s arm up to lead him into an impromptu twirl. Logan laughed quietly and then louder as he was dipped, secure in Remus’ strong hold as he reached up to grip the back of his neck. He was safe. He was free and safe and happy finally with someone who truly loved and cared for him. His breath caught in his throat again but this time in awe, Remus chuckling as he was laid down carefully tucked into his side, till with his arms around his neck.

The stars shone bright and winked lazily while swirls of color dusted faintly behind them. The moon was waning, a barely there light that let the beauty behind it show fully as the wind whisked away any clouds that dared to try and cover it. It was everything Logan had ever hoped it would be and more, excitement thrumming through him as he squeezed Remus tightly in an attempt to convey it. He felt Remus grin against his scalp where his face was buried in his hair.

“It’s beautiful isn't it?”

Logan looked back at him, light from the stars reflected in his eyes and wild brown hair framing his face. He leaned up slightly and kissed him, a faint brush of their lips that left them both grinning like the idiots they were. Placing a hand on Remus’ cheek Logan smiled at him, thumb brushing over his cheek in adoration.

“Absolutely stunning.”

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[jeontaehui]

Could you do a taehee reaction to taeyong overworking him self and getting ill? 😍, i really love your taehee imagines 😊😊🥰

seul i wish taeyong is having the rest he needs and DESERVES. he’s done so well for us, i’m glad he’s really getting a break of some sort :( and i miss him very much that’s why i’m going to write this, but i know there are some people who get triggered by these things easily so if you do, do not read under the cut.

HELLO, It’s SM ENTERTAINMENT. We’d like to ask for your understanding. Member TAEYONG’s waist injury has relapsed, and will not be partaking in any schedules, including the “Beyond LIVE NCT RESONANCE ‘Global Wave’”. We ask for your deep understanding as we focus on TAEYONG’s treatment for a quick recovery. Thank you.

taeyong had been in bed almost the whole day, only coming out of its comforts to get a glass of water, go to the bathroom, or to eat, then he retreats to the confinements of his room to watch the compilation of cute animal videos that have been hanging around his recommended on youtube for days now.

he knew that the members were practicing for the live concert tomorrow, and he can’t help but let his mind drift off to how they could be doing right at this moment, but he also understands that the faster he recovers, the shorter the time would be for him before he comes back. for now, taeyong eases his mind onto that thought.

knock. knock. knock.��“come in,” taeyong calls, a bit confused that no one had sent him a message saying they were coming over. he expects it to be doyoung or johnny, but instead taehee’s head pops in, her eyebrows raised adorably as they met eyes. a wide smile grows on taeyong’s lips, “what are you doing here?”

taehee lets herself in before closing the door and is met with the cold by the room’s air conditioning, at least it was warmer compared to the outside. “i came to visit you of course,” she mumbles, a playful tint to her voice as she states what should have been the obvious. “are you guys done practicing?,” taeyong asks. he watches her take his computer chair and push it towards the bed, turning it to him before sitting comfortably and using her padding coat as a blanket. “yeah, they let us go early.”

taeyong checks the time on his phone and sees that it was nearing midnight, “ahh.... how was it?”

“it was alright,” she replies, and taeyong senses the tiredness in her voice. taehee combs her fingers through her ash brown locks and bites the inside of her cheek. she didn’t want to say, “it could’ve been better if you were there,” knowing that it might put more pressure on their leader, and instead she gives him a small smile, “it went better than expected.”

taeyong chuckles, “expected how?”

“put twenty-two energetic, humorous boys in one room. you tell me what to expect,” taehee laughs softly. “but we did our best, as always.”

taeyong agrees with her, he’s well aware of how good their team is when it comes to performing – the humor some of the guys pull is just a bonus, something to help them get through practice hours without dropping dead to the floor.

“did you eat already?,” taehee’s the one asking this time. “i just ate leftovers. those were enough for me anyways,” taeyong notices the skeptical look she gives him, but it quickly disappears once she stands up. “i got you a yogurt smoothie before coming here. i’m going to get it,” and she leaves the room.

when taehee comes back, taeyong lets out a small cheer of glee at the smoothie that was in her hand. she hands it over to taeyong who thanks her before taking a sip of the cold drink. taeyong notices she didn’t have one herself and pouts slightly, “where’s yours?”

“i’m already kind of full,” taehee gives him a dismissive wave of the hand, going back to her seat on his chair. “do you want to at least try mine?,” she politely shakes her head ‘no’ and gestures for him to drink up. eyeing her, taeyong takes a hesitant sip before placing it inside one of the shelves that were beside his bed. 

“it’s your birthday tomorrow!,” taeyong exclaims, and taehee had to draw her attention away from the other things taeyong kept on his racks to see the excited grin that was plastered on the older member’s face. the corner of taehee’s lips tug into a smile, suddenly, she isn’t feeling tired anymore. “yeah, i actually almost forgot about it,” her voice trails off at the end, her brows furrowing when she recalls the date today. “oh yeah, it is tomorrow!”

“you’re turning 22, right?”

“i am,” she lifts her head high to beam at him, before narrowing her eyes into playful slits, “you forgot, didn’t you?”

“i didn’t!,” taeyong shakes his head. “it’s your birthday, i already got your present a week ago.”

“but i said no presents!,” taeyong shakes his head again, but this time more stubbornly, “you already got me a christmas gift!”

“your birthday is different from christmas, 애기,” he tells her, chuckling at how cute taehee looks with her mouth flattened into a straight line, dimples peeking out from her cheeks. “it’s no use to tell me not to get you one anymore.”

taehee bites her lip, “okay, fine. whatever.” taeyong giggles at her behavior, it was these kinds of things that brought him back to the time when they were still trainees; to when taehee was slowly getting comfortable enough to joke around and tease them too, though this doesn’t take him away from noticing the slight pout that was on her face.

“why?,” taeyong asks, dragging out the word to remind her of the lightness of their conversation. “i just said i got you a present,” he reaches for his smoothie and takes a quick sip, “you should be happy.” he takes another one.

taehee hums, “thank you.” 

silence passes by them while taehee lets taeyong drink up to half of the container, thinking she should get that flavor more often since he seemed to enjoy it. 

“does it hurt?,” taeyong stops in his actions as taehee pulls her coat closer. “does what hurt?”

“your hip, or your back, or your neck. does it hurt?”

taeyong slowly puts the cup back to its original place before stretching his arms in front of him. 

“a little. it doesn’t hurt as much as it was before,” taehee doesn’t know the extent of his injuries, only aware of the body pains he felt during practices or after performing on stage, but she nods anyways. “that’s good, right?”

“yeah,” taeyong tries to be convincing, he knows taehee worries more than she lets out to be. “i’m getting rest.”

“it happens,” she looks into his eyes, and even if there wasn’t much light, taeyong clearly sees how they held care and worry at the same time. “it can happen to us,” she continues, “don’t worry about anything and just focus on recovering.”

taeyong smiles gratefully at her, softly mumbling how he will before asking, “are you doing any of my parts?”

“yup,” she replied, swiveling in taeyong’s chair for a moment before planting her feet flat on the floor once again. “i’m doing your parts for ‘misfit’ and ‘baby don’t stop’.”

out of excitement, taeyong’s eyes widen a fraction, but the blue feeling of wanting to perform too gets to him. “woah... you’ll do great!”

taehee winces slightly, and shrugs. she knows no one can top taeyong’s performances except himself. he was born to be on stage, but he deserved some rest too after giving his all. “i’ll do my best.”

stillness hangs over them again, though it was less heavy than the first one. taehee pulls her bottom lip in between her teeth, her foot tapping steady rhythms on the wooden floor. taeyong cuts through the silence, “do you want a hug before you go?”

taehee stops her fidgeting and brings her gaze to his, taeyong’s were soft and comforting, yet he was the one lying in bed with a hip injury, not her. she sighs through her nose, her shoulders slumping in surrender before she stands on her feet and brings herself into his arms. 

taeyong was warm. his clothes, his personality, his laugh, his aura were always warm no matter where they are or where they went. even if he was mad or disappointed, he was warm. that’s why deep down her chest, she had always loved his hugs. everything about him was warm. she buries her nose further into his chest and mumbles, “i love you.”

taeyong’s mouth twists in endearment. taehee was not one to show her sentiment towards the members, let alone say it, so these were one of her rare moments where she really means the phrase ‘i love you’ and not hiding behind some casual, flirty remark. “i love you too.” 

taehee tightens the hug before letting go, missing the warmth that was lee taeyong. she grabs her coat and pulls it on, “i’ll see you again tomorrow.”

“okay, goodnight!,” taeyong’s cheerful tone makes taehee’s eyes crinkle into crescents. she gives him a mock salute before twisiting the door open, “goodnight!”

[thenickelportrust]

Scene Practice 2

The second of my scene practices! This one is experimenting a bit more with Ricky as he starts to question his sexuality with a non-female MC.

Specifically, in the space between a friendship and a relationship, where everything is in a bit of a grey area already!

This one is less of a specific scene-that-will-appear-in-game and is more of my practicing the idea and vibes of that time in the MC and his relationship!

Enjoy!

_______

“Okay, so I’m here.” You fold your arms across your chest, staring across the dark wooden desk to the man who, despite being the one who asked you here, keeps his blue eyes trained on the paper in front of him.

Ricky Dempsey doesn’t move to talk at first, which is the whole reason you spoke up first, but fine. With a sigh, you pull out one of the chairs from across his desk and plop yourself down into it.

Well, if you’re going to be bored…

“Guess you asked me here just to stare at your pretty face then?”

… You might as well try to find a way to entertain yourself. And entertained you are. It’s taken quite a while to figure out what makes the stiff-upper-lipped politician tick, and to be entirely frank you’re still not entirely sure what it is that gets a reaction from him… But you’ve gotten better at it. At least, you’ve gotten better at eliciting more than a sharp glare and the whip-like snap of his silver tongue, so quick on the trigger to insult. Sometimes, although this is a rare sometimes, but still, sometimes, you’ve even gotten him to blush.

Small triumphs.

Small triumphs that you’re not privy to now, as despite your not-quite-best efforts Ricky Dempsey turns away from his papers to pass you his usual narrow-eyed glare. “Are you truly that incapable of sitting there patiently for a mere moment?”

“Yeah, I am.” You grin in the face of his minor irritation. It’s more than a shit-eating grin, and it’s one that Ricky meets with a sigh and, miracle of miracles, places his pen to the side. Victory achieved!

“So,” You drawl, rubbing your hands together as you sit forward on your chair, “What’s up? Why’d you ask me here anyway?”

He remains silent-- victory substantially less achieved-- but he’s still looking at you, not the papers. Victory partially achieved?

Ricky stares at you for a long while, long enough that it even starts to make you uncomfortable. You can’t read his expression, and you’re not even sure he’s trying to read yours. Hell, you’re not sure he’s even really looking at you. He’s more just… looking in your direction. But he’s not spaced out, his gaze is as sharp and attentive as ever. He’s just… thinking. “You, uh, okay…?”

He blinks, and Ricky reaches for his pen for a moment, before his hand pauses, halfway between himself and the pen, and slowly falls back to his side. “Yes. I am fine.”

“You sure? You seem a bit… unusual.”

“Unusual?” He repeats, his chair turning slightly to the side as his head swivels with it, looking out the back window to his view. The corporate heart of Nickelport. You see smoke in the distance, a small stream of it, and something in the back of your mind-- the Rust instinct drilled into you over your four years of working for them-- thinks that there must be a fight going on. One just starting. It thinks that maybe you should be there to see it.

Living in Nickelport, and working for the Rust, it must have worn down your survival instinct.

“Yeah.” You force your gaze back to the politician’s profile. His jaw is set tight, his eyes locked somewhere unspecific on the horizon, maybe he’s looking at the smoke too. What’s his instinctual reaction to it? It’s probably different from yours. Probably. “Unusual.”

“I wasn’t aware unusual was a state of being. Perhaps unsure, or unlike myself, but unusual is more of a personality descriptor, or perhaps a physical description, I’m not so sure one could go from usual to unusual. You could also say I am unusually something, but you didn’t,” He turns his chair back around to you now, “At least, you would most likely have to say unlike my usual self, which I’m sure is what you meant to imply, but it is not what you said.”

“Yeah well then you’re being unusually deflective, and an ass at the same time, but that’s usual for you.” Still grinning.

Ricky doesn’t smile. “I have a request for you.”

Ah, and there was the meat of the meeting. “Oh? What’s up?”

“I…” He trails off, his gaze breaking, looking down, looking away and-- the tips of his ears seem red? Is he… blushing? But you haven’t said or done anything to make him flush and…

You lean forward, concerned, and reach for his hand, “Hey, Ricky, what’s wrong?”

His hand, which snaps back the moment your fingers make contact, “Nothing is wrong, do not assume.”

“I’m inferring, cause like we’ve established, this really isn’t like you.” Your voice is gentle now, sincere, and sincerely concerned.

Ricky Dempsey holds his hand as if it had been burned, unable to look you in the eyes. “I…” he swallows heavily, “I have a request.”

“Right,” You nod along slowly, “What do you need?”

“I need nothing,” He corrects, ever so specific.

“Fine, then what do you want?”

Somehow, that word seems worse to him, and again Ricky falls to one of his prolonged silences. It’s only broken by a small curse leaving his lips as he drags a hand up and through his hair. “I’d… my request is that, should you be willing, that you… kiss me.”

Now it’s your turn to blink, “What?”

The red on his ears begins to creep slowly towards his cheeks, “Is that such an unreasonable request?”

You don’t respond, your brain is still processing what Ricky “I reject any offer of friendship even if it's so much as implied” Dempsey has just asked you to kiss him. “What?”

The red has claimed his nose now, too, and is starting it’s charge down his neck, too. He grabs his pen with the violence of a knight drawing a sword to go into battle. “Nevermind.”

Your hand instinctively snaps out, grabbing his wrist before he can drown his mind in the distraction of his work. “I--” Your brain starts to catch up to the present again, slowly resetting, “I’m sorry-- but-- really-- what? Why?”

He doesn’t pull away this time, but his skin is burning under your palm, and he still won’t look you in the eyes. “Do I need a reason?”

“I mean it’d help, yeah.”

Ricky clears his throat again, squeezing the pen. “I… have been… having… thoughts… or-- no-- that doesn’t sound…” He takes a deep breath, his chest rising, stopping, and falling slowly as he exhales in a measured count. “Recently, I have been questioning some… assumptions I have made about myself. I have also been questioning… assumptions I’ve made about our… interactions. And my… interpretations of them. So, I thought, perhaps, when it comes to a hypothesis as… otherwise unfounded as the one I’ve been coming to-- to see, well, perhaps, a bit of experimentation was not-- is not… unwarranted.”

You try to translate from his work-around words to something more logical. “Ricky, do you have feelings for me?”

He jolts in his chair, finally pulling his hand away. “My entire life--” He answers lamely, softly, “My entire life I have believed myself to be one thing. I have not-- every person I have been with has been-- I have not ever questioned whether or not certain truths of  myself were not so true after all. It is not an… easy revelation to come to. Please do not ask me anything else. If you are incapable or unwilling of fulfilling my request then that is fine. I apologize for taking up your time.”

He’s apologizing. For Ricky, that is never a good sign.

“Hey,” You try to keep your voice gentle again, “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize, and-- I mean-- I can’t say I’d be unwilling,”

He looks up, a small spark in the back of his blue eyes. But you hold up a hand,

“But,” You add on, “You don’t seem like you’re wholly on board with it yourself, yeah? I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t seem very comfortable right now.”

His lips press tightly together, a small, hesitant nod bobbing his chin.

You smile, not your shit-eating grin but something small, “Hey, that’s okay. And it’s okay to be questioning, too, it’s not a bad thing.” You reach out, but stop halfway. Ricky seems to pull his hand back, so you pull yours back, too, and let it lie in your lap instead. “Take some time, okay? If you wanna ask me again, when you’re really comfortable with the idea, I’ll be here. Until then, no rush, yeah?”

Another silent nod, some of the red has drained from his face. Strands of his hair have fallen unnoticed onto his forehead, Normally, he would never have let even a single thing out of place-- not even a wrinkle on his suit or a hair from his head. But now the put-together Ricky Dempsey seems to be… shaken. And you lean back in your chair, “Do you wanna grab something to eat, instead?”

He looks up at you, meeting your gaze once again, finally, and that lets you see just how unsteady in his own skin he is right now. “Eat…?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m here, I haven’t had lunch, I’d put money on the idea that you haven’t, either,” And you don’t want to push the subject right now. “I’ve been trying to try this cool-lookin’ Thai place around the corner but it’s way out of my budget. But lucky for me I have this rich politician friend who, yknow, could out of the kindness buried deep, deep, deep--”

He sighs, settling back into himself as he brushes his hair back into place and rolls his eyes, “Of course. I should have expected you to have an ulterior motive.”

“You know me.” Back to your grin, back to normalcy as he finds his feet and stands once again.

“Very well,” Dempsey straightens his tie, “But you owe me.”

You hop up as well, clapping your hands together. “Sounds great! Let’s get going then, I dunno about you but I’m starved.”

[songbirdsingingthings]

Chapter Five - The Melancholy Of The Heart

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

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The clink of a teacup draws your attention from your daydreaming and you immediately slap on the fake smile that you’ve been managing for the past three weeks. Of all the times to be nodding off, you scold yourself as you shift a little in your seat, making sure your posture was still perfect and your hands were placed in the correct way. You were worrying, of course, because seated across from you was Lord Iida’s mother. She was genuinely a kind person, but you were having a hard time conversing with her. Of course you were, because you were forcing yourself to pretend that you’re head-over-heels in love with her son.

“So Miss Yagi, where do your interests tend to lead you? I do tend to find myself rather drawn towards needlepoint,” Lady Iida says, a gentle smile on her face. You place your teacup down on its saucer gently.

“Needlepoint is a very fine activity indeed,” you start with, making sure to stick to exactly what you had been taught when Nemuri Kayama, your governess, had instructed you in the art of conversing. “However I tend to stray more towards the pianoforte - it was a love that both my mother and I shared.” You confess. This earns a pitying look from Lady Iida as she reaches across the small tea table and places a hand on top of yours.

“I was so very sorry when I heard about your mother all those years ago. It must’ve been so hard on the senior Lord Yagi, having the responsibilities of a mother pushed on to him.” At her words, your entire body froze, but quickly heated up again with anger. However, you maintained a placated expression.

“My father did wonderfully with raising both my brother and I. My mother, bless her soul, would be ecstatic with how he accomplished both that and his own business.” You made sure to sweeten up your voice, raising it a few octaves in order to show respect but gently, and subtly, push her into the direction of ‘My father had no issues with acting like both a mother and a father’. It had only been about an hour of this and you were already at your limit. “Oh, would you believe the time? I must be heading home in order to aid my brother with the plans of his upcoming nuptials,” You say, pushing back your chair politely, but quickly, and dipping into a shallow curtsy before excusing yourself. 

“Are you kidding me? ‘Must’ve been so hard for Lord Yagi because he now has to perform more womanly duties’. Bullshit, utter bullshit.” You hiss to yourself quietly, finally making your way back to your home.

“Welcome back, Lady Yagi.” A butler greeted you and opened the door. You shot him a quick greeting and a ‘thank you’, before stomping your way into the parlor. You saw Izuku out of the corner of your eye so you closed yours and collapsed onto a couch.

“Y/N, uh-” Your brother began but was quickly cut off.

“Izuku, you wouldn’t believe what Lady Iida had to say! Going on about how it must’ve been so hard for Father when Mother died because he had to act as the matron of the household. I mean, seriously!” You scoff, leaning your head back.

“Y/N!” Izuku finally shouted, causing you to sit up.

“What?” You ask back, a confused look on your face due to his outburst. That’s when you finally looked to the left to see who you really didn’t want to see. Shouto. Confusion turned to anger as your eyes left Shouto and latched themselves back onto Izuku. You breathe in and out, deeply, before you start talking. No matter how much you hated him right now, Shouto was of higher status than you and you were responsible for acting a certain way. “Izuku, may I speak with you in the hallway? Privately?” You say, faux-sweetness dripping from your voice as you clench your teeth. You turn on your heel and step into the hallway that was just outside the parlor where Izuku follows you in a hurry.

“Before you start, I am so sorry, I thought you weren’t going to be home for another few hours,” Izuku confessed, his voice a whisper. You closed your eyes and heaved a sigh.

“I know the two of you are friendly, so I am not going to chastise you for inviting him to our house for the day,” you begin, trying to maintain a level of calmness, “just let me know when he is coming.” You beg of him, your eyes imploring. Izuku swallows a lump in his throat and nods. The two of you walk back to the parlor, albeit wordlessly, and you settle on the couch you were seated on beforehand. You could feel Shouto’s eyes burning holes into your back, so you bucked up and finally addressed him. “Lord Todoroki, you seem to be almost everywhere I am these days,” you say, your words laced with disdain.

“It seems that way… indeed.” Shouto says quietly, his eyes flickering in between you and his hands. You internally groan as you think back to your etiquette lessons, particularly the exact one keeping you stationed in that parlor instead of holed up in your room. When in the presence of a higher ranking social class, or if they are to be present in your household, you must entertain or partake in conversation. However furious at Shouto you were, you’d be damned if you didn’t uphold your studies. Quickly, you think up a solution.

“Forgive me, gentlemen, but this is the hour I tend to practice on the pianoforte - I should not want to subject both of you to such clamour. Our gardens are quite lovely at this time of day, Izuku, why don’t you take Lord Todoroki on a tour? Or shall I ring the Yaoyorozu household and invite Lady Yaoyorozu so she can partake in the activity?” You state clearly, wanting your words to sting.

“Y/N,” Izuku hisses, a rare glare in his eyes.

“I should like to stay, if you'll allow Y/-Lady Yagi.” The effect your formal name coming out of his mouth has on you is tremendous, and you hate it. You hate how you longed for your first name to be uttered from his lips and how much comfort you found from him when you did. You dipped your head so that he couldn’t see the pain flash across your face and instead make your way over to your favorite instrument, taking a seat on the bench and drawing on the sheet music from memory. It was a melancholy piece - the notes varying from sad to what almost sounded like hope, only to be plunged back into the murky waters of sorrow. You sit there for a moment after you plink out the final notes before you look up to see Shouto’s eyes still on you. Screw the damn etiquette rules, you tell yourself as you get up, feeling your eyes get more watery.

“If you’ll excuse me,” You say softly, hurrying towards the outside gardens. How foolish were you to believe that your feelings for him would just vanish? Shouto Todoroki, the Duke’s son, was a one of a kind gentleman. You compared your feelings to that of Tantalus, the greek myth about being just out of reach of the thing they crave, they need the most.

“Lady Yagi,” His voice fed the longing that lingered in your mind - it was almost intoxicating to an extent. No, your conscience told you, tell him to leave. He hurt you, he lied to you. He. Is. Engaged. “I’m not engaged. Not anymore.” Your eyebrows narrowed, perplexity evident. Did you hear him right? It must’ve been a trick of the wind, whistling in your ear in a way.

“Lord Todoroki, that is a cruel joke,” you managed, turning away from him. “You mustn’t say that to a young lady who is so close to being engaged herself.” You bring a hand up to your forehead, feeling a little faint. Although you couldn’t see him, Shouto’s face has morphed into a crestfallen one.

“To Lord Iida,” He states clearly, however this time you can hear the tiny bit of emotion he usually keeps shielded from his voice.

“You mustn’t say that because if it is true, you will have created a situation in which I cannot be fully happy. On one hand I will be married to Lord Iida but always know that my true love, the one that has my heart in his hands, loves me back and will have gone against his father to do so.” You run a hand through your now messy hair feeling the carefully placed pins start to fall out of it. “And on the other, I am to be married to you and will leave Lord Iida feeling played - exactly the feeling I felt with you. The way I absolutely loathe that feeling…” you confess, finally meeting Shouto’s eyes again. The two of you stand there for a moment, trying to figure out a solution to a most paradoxical situation.

“Y/N,” Shouto begins, stepping forwards. His hands are inches from yours when you see Izuku race out of the house towards the two of you. Your hands jut back towards your sides as you see your brother approaching. His expression is one of great concern, worry swimming in his eyes. You open your mouth to speak but Izuku does first.

“I-It’s Father, he’s fallen ill. They think it’s pneumonia and they said it’s quite serious…” His words fade into nothing as your mind is spinning. Pneumonia, that’s what Mother had. Izuku is saying that Father has the same illness that Mother had. The illness that Mother had when she died. You could see the worrisome eyes of both Izuku and Shouto on you as your vision begins to fade. The last thing you see is Shouto lunging towards you and him yelling your name. Your first name.