#being chased for having something in her mouth is her number 1 crime. she was carrying my mini arkham knight jason figurine in her mouth a

[autisticredhood]

little miss rascal really living up to the RASCAL allegations. stole my bookmark OUT OF MY BOOK and. scampered off with it in her mouth

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Hi, I have an idea for Chishiya if it's okay! He have something going on with Kuina's friend, and after she didn't came back from a game everyone thought that she died, but she actually just left (she didn't want to become too attached to Chishiya maybe?) and 1 month later the militants found her and Chishiya is rather cold toward her because she left him without saying anything. Happy ending if possible, please

Thanks for requesting, here you go. Enjoy! 🥰

Home | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Kuina, Niragi)

Summary: You run away from the beach, but soon were found by the militants again. Chishiya, your closest companion, is mad when you return for not saying anything.

Warning: mention of sexual harassment, swearing, grieving, heavy angst

Word Count: 4.8k

*reader is female

Author’s Note: I’m sorry if the ending is a bit cliché, but I really enjoyed writing this one!

“I’m so sick of this shit Kuina. She’s gone. What the hell do we do now?”

Chishiya and Kuina sat on the top roof of The Beach. Their legs were dangling over the edge, above the groups of people who sang their hearts out over the loud music. They couldn’t be down there themselves, not that night.

“It’s so unfair,” Chishiya grumbled, rubbing his stained eyes with his hands. “I hate how everyone just moves on like nothing happened.”

Kuina sniffled, trying to control her runny nose as she listened to Chishiya’s pained words. “Look Chish, it was going to happen to one of us three at some point, it just happened to be Y/N.” Kuina tried to keep her voice stable, but the occasional voice crack gave away her sadness.

“Yes I know, but it still hurts so fucking bad.”

You hadn’t returned from your game. You hadn’t returned back to Chishiya and Kuina. You hadn’t returned home.

*******

“Oi Y/N! Slow the hell down!”

You heard Kuina yell out to you from down the hall. You laughed at her desperate attempt to catch up while Chishiya walked at his own pace watching you guys.

“Why are we suddenly having a race?! We have all day to get down to the pool!” Kuina called out. You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face her. “I want to get down there before the sun comes out and everyone wakes up! Don’t you want to have it just for us three for a while?”

“I suppose so,” Kuina breathed out heavily.

Chishiya’s lips pulled up into a smile as he watched you too bicker. “Oi you two. Be quiet. People in these halls are still sleeping,” he said.

Kuina turned to Chishiya and pulled a mocking bored face towards him. “Well you’re fun this morning,” she muttered in a sarcastic tone.

All three of you made your way to the pool on the bottom floor of The Beach, tripping and shoving each other playfully while giggling. You hardly ever did this together, because Chishiya always slept until noon, so you were excited about having the pool to yourselves before the sun came up.

When you reached outside, your chatters and the sound of your bare feet on the pavement broke the silence of the night. You hoped that Hatter kept the windows closed to his suite because you knew if you woke him up he would come down and beat your asses for being awake so early.

You looked over towards the pool that was still lit up with underwater neon blue lights from the night before. You’d think that they would shut all the lights off at least to save a bit of electricity, but apparently not.

Kuina had thrown her towel down carelessly on a nearby deck chair and was now chasing after Chishiya, who powered his short legs to try and escape her.

“Chishiya you’re going in the pool! You can’t chicken out forever!” she yelled as she caught up to him and wrapped her strong arms around his waist.

You could tell the years of martial arts training paid off for Kuina as she lifted Chishiya into her arms like he weighed nothing. “Bitch, put me down! I don’t want to go in the pool! Why is that such a crime!?”

You doubled over in laughter as Kuina held the cat-like blonde in her arms, him squirming more violently as she got to the side of the pool.

“Goodbye!” she yelled and dropped him into the pool. His screaming cut off as he was submerged into the water. You walked over and placed your stuff down, listening to Kuina and Chishiya bickering in the background.

It was a shame that you were planning on walking out on these guys. But in a world like this, the bad moments really outweighed the good ones.

“Alright you’re next!” you heard behind you, making you snap out of your short daze.

“Wait, no!” you bellowed as Kuina repeated the same thing she did with Chishiya. This time, it was his turn to laugh at you.

“Jesus christ woman. The fuck got you so lively this morning?” you laughed at Kuina, who gracefully dived into the pool to tease you two.

You felt Chishiya tuck his chin on your shoulder gently, taking you by surprise. “I guess we got to act as happy as we can now. Our five day visa ends tonight.” Chishiya mumbled to you two.

The air around the three of you suddenly became stiff at the mention of the games. You lifted your hand and placed it on Chishiya’s damp hair. “It’s alright, it was a fun and relaxing five days while it lasted,” you said cheerfully.

“Don’t say that like as if you’re going to die,” Chishiya scolded you. “You won’t die, none of us three will.” He was trying to reassure himself that he would come back from his game with you all happy and healthy waiting in the lobby for him. He hoped for that exact reality every time he had to leave you to restore his visa. He panicked even when you were ten minutes later than usual. It was a constant battle with anxiety when it came to caring for you in a world like this.

But unfortunately, while Chishiya was willing to fight against the growing anxiety that came with loving you, you didn’t want anything to do with it.

You and Chishiya have been as tight as two peas in a pod since Kuina introduced you. Kuina and you happened to meet at a diamonds game that was further in the centre of the city which was where you appeared in the game. She was nice enough to take you back to The Beach, because she thought that your intelligence and gentle personality would be useful.

But the plan of using you for Kuina and Chishiya’s own personal gain went out the window when both of them built a strong connection with you. They tried so hard to stop it, but in the end, they decided to make you an addition to their little manipulative games with the others. A mysterious duo became a peculiar trio.

That’s when Chishiya began to notice other things he felt.

He began feeling an irrational attachment to you, always wanting to be around you and always wanting to make sure that you were safe. You began noticing his additional little quirks as well, as soon you both fell for each other, without the other knowing of course.

Kuina obviously knew, as she was incredibly observant. She always kept her mouth shut though, wanting to see the drama play out in front of her. It was entertaining at times.

“You two are cute,” she gushed at you and Chishiya, holding a cheeky smile on her face.

Chishiya tucked his face into your neck to hide his blush, but it only made your heart skip a beat. “Shut up,” he mumbled into your skin.

You sighed heavily as he kept his place there, snaking his arms around your waist. This was honestly normal. The closer you’ve gotten with Chishiya, the less shy he’s been to convey physical affection. You loved and hated it at the same time, because you knew the more he made your heart race, the harder it would be to leave him.

At times you thought you’d rather deal with his cold and untrustworthy personality, like how he was when he first met you. It was easier to dislike him then, but now that his real personality has shown through, you realized how good of a person he actually seemed to be.

Chishiya never became close to someone, because he knew it would be hard to pull away when he needed to use them for his own survival. So he’s just always chosen to keep everyone at a distance.

You on the other hand, you hadn’t fallen down the deep whole of caring fully for someone in this world, but you knew you were about to stumble off the edge.

While Kuina and Chishiya waited to renew their visas, you waited to run away from the stress of waiting for your friend’s potential deaths.

******

You, Kuina and Chishiya trudged down the steps that led to the lobby. Hatter had called everyone to meet there a few minutes ago to prepare for the games. Hearing the familiar bell ring throughout the so-called paradise made your heart weaken. It was calling you to your end, every single time.

The trio of you took your usual place towards the back of the lobby, leaning against the cement walls and looking over everyone’s heads. How weird it felt, that by the time you gathered here next, the number of people would reduce by a couple dozen. It made your stomach sink in remorse. You truly were nothing more than soldiers fighting a war that wasn’t your own.

You looked down at your own feet, beginning to feel guilty about your plan of running away. The people you would abandon, the friends who would miss you. And even they can’t come find you, but you knew it was for the best. For both you and them.

You felt something tickle your hand. You glanced your eyes down to see that it was Chishiya, trying to sneak his hand into yours as Hatter began his booming speech across the crowd. You looked up to the blonde’s face, but he was focused on Hatter. You smiled sadly and accepted his hand into yours, earning a soft squeeze from him.

Kuina placed her head on your shoulder, leaning closer towards you. It was as if they knew, and they were trying to get you to change your mind. You felt tears building up in your eyes, but quickly wiped them away with your hoodie sleeve before anyone noticed.

Damn. You were never going to forget them.

******

Chishiya sat in the leather lounge in the lobby. He had just arrived back from his spades game. Wasn’t too difficult, for him at least.

Only now he was stressing inside, leg bouncing up and down on the carpet quickly. He knew you wouldn’t return for a good while, but yet he always was worried about you. No matter the situation.

Niragi didn’t help the situation. He strolled over earlier with a few of his militant mates and roughed Chishiya up for a bit. He honestly wasn’t in the mood for their antics, so he didn’t fight back much. They eventually got bored and walked away.

There hardly was anyone in the lobby, it was strangely quiet.

Chishiya looked towards the entrance to the lobby where a small group of people just walked in from. He recognized them as the group Kuina was placed with, so he stood up from his seat and quickly made his way over.

He managed to spot Kuina walking by herself at the back of the group. Chishiya let out a relieved sigh and strolled up to her. “Thank god you’re okay,” he said, giving her a short hug. “You too,” she replied.

They walked back over to where Chishiya was sitting beforehand and sat down. “Do you know who Y/N went with?” Kuina asked.

“No idea, I had to leave with my group before hers,” he answered.

They both sat in silence for a while, hearts squeezing in on themselves from tension.

As group after group piled into the lobby and moved to go to the back pool to celebrate their wins. While their hearts and minds were overflowing in joy of surviving, Chishiya’s and Kuina’s slowly became heavier and heavier with grief.

One of the last groups finally came back, being a few hours later than everyone else. Chishiya searched the small crowd for your familiar face, but didn’t see it.

“Kuina,” he started with a tense voice. “Don’t say it,” she immediately cut him off. “Don’t say anything Chish. She’s fine, I know it.”

That became harder and harder to believe the later into the night it got. Soon enough, no one was left in the halls and the lobby, either gone to bed or stayed out in the pool area.

Chishiya didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t feel anything. His body was tired from the constant tensing, the constant anxiety.

He stood up abruptly and looked towards Kuina, who had her head in her hands. He gave her a sad smile, and reached his hand out to help her up. “Come on, let’s go to the roof like old times,” he smiled, fighting the tears building up in his eyes.

*********

When they reached the top of the building after climbing many annoying flights of steps, Chishiya tilted his head back to feel the wind blow around his head. He opened his eyes and saw the galaxy of stars above him. ‘So weird,’ he thought to himself. ‘In a horrible place like this, such beautiful things can still exist.’

Kuina and Chishiya sat on the edge of the roof, feet dangling off the edge. Complete silence took over them. Neither of them knew what to say.

Kuina broke her gaze off the staggering height of the drop below them and glanced at Chishiya. He was staring straight ahead of him, hoodie covering his face so she couldn’t see what he was looking at.

“Chish, are you okay?” Kuina asked quietly, leaning forward to try and see his face. It felt strange to her, having Chishiya be completely silent for a change. Usually he would be making a smartass comment or a teasing joke towards her or Y/N. It was like the happiness in him had drained out.

He didn’t answer for a short moment, but then he turned his head to look at Kuina in the eyes. Kuina was taken back.

Chishiya had pools of tears cascading down his pale face, mixing with the sweat that he still endured from the game. He let out no sobs and no cries. Just dry, empty tears running down his cheeks like doves flying down the edge of a cliff.

“No, I’m not okay,” he muttered to her. “This fucking sucks.”

*******

It had been a few weeks since your death, not that there was a huge difference at The Beach from your disappearance. Everyone carried on like normal, everyone except Kuina and Chishiya.

They became secluded, more than usual. Kuina spent most of her time in the hotel’s gym, trying to distract herself from everything that happened. She wanted to get stronger so she could win games, she knew that’s what you would have wanted.

Chishiya however, he wasn’t taking your death well at all. Chishiya lost his fire, his headstrong attitude and snappy remarks. He kind of disappeared himself, but only his body stayed.

He felt stupid at times. What would he have expected? Of course you died, knowing his luck. He began irrationally thinking, believing that the world took you away because he didn’t deserve someone as warm-hearted as you. He felt cheated almost. It was like the universe had you dangling on a string in front of him, and when he finally had the courage to reach towards you, it yanked you away out of his view.

When he was having particular hard days, he would lie on his bed in his room for hours, not bothering to get up for food or the bathroom. He felt numb inside, he honestly thought nothing would be able to hurt him anymore, because he’s endured the worst of his emotions.

The mirror in his room was smashed, due to his own doing. He broke it a few days after the incident, screaming into the stuffy air of his room and throwing one of his makeshift knives at it. He watched in pain as it crackled and crumbled under the impact, seeing his own reflection fall into a million pieces, much like how he was feeling at that moment.

He had never experienced this kind of hurt before. He always thought other people were being dramatic when they broke down crying after hearing their significant other or friend didn’t make it back to The Beach. He thought that it should’ve been expected, that they shouldn’t be surprised that it happened. But he guessed you never know what another person is feeling unless you experience it yourself.

But god, does he wish he didn’t, because it hurt more than a thousand knives to his cold, stone heart.

**********

One day, Chishiya was standing on the edge of a balcony that looked over the entrance to The Beach. He enjoyed standing up there because he loved the spectacular view of the ocean. It reminded him of his real home, when he used to ride his bike down to the beach with his friends and swim in the water for hours. He missed life when it was so easy for him.

The breeze was cool on his skin, giving him goosebumps. It felt refreshing and somewhat free, a small taste of bliss for him. His eyes were shut as he listened to the crows screech in the distance and the ocean waves hit the shore. The sound of nature rang in his ears, making his endorphins swirl in his brain.

It was a good break every now and then from the usual melancholy emotions that swarmed around him, keeping his happiness locked down in chains. While he was on that balcony, actually breathing fully and normally for once, his demons decided to let loose of the chains that held his sweet happiness trapped.

Chishiya opened his dark eyes and glanced downwards towards the bottom level and saw something that caught his eye.

A group of three militants seemed to have a young woman in their grasp, one of them being Niragi himself. Chishiya watched as they tried hard to hold the smaller person at bay, as she was thrashing around trying to escape.

He frowned, confusion painting across his face. That girl, she looked oddly familiar.

Niragi told the militants to bring her around the side of the building, where a small alley was located beside the entrance. Chishiya knew that’s where the militants dragged people to kill them off, they were planning on killing her.

Chishiya wondered what she did that was so bad. Hatter hardly ever gave the order to kill someone, unless the situation was betrayal or anything worse.

He moved himself along the balcony towards where the commotion below him was occurring. He wanted to hear what they were saying, because who knows what shit Niragi gets up to without Hatter knowing. It seemed a little too suspicious to be dragging someone to their death in broad daylight, especially where everyone could see.

Chishiya heard slight fragments of what they were yelling: “You thought- … run away?!” Niragi screamed in his psychotic voice. “Let go of-...! …could have just left me there!”

Chishiya felt his heart drop. That voice, it was all too familiar. How could he have forgotten what your voice sounded like.

He lifted his head and stared forward in shock. That couldn’t be right, you’ve been dead for weeks!

He thought for a second, trying to come to a possible conclusion with the horrific yells in the background of his mind. How is it possible you could still be alive?

That couldn’t be you, it just couldn’t be. Chishiya shook his head and chuckled. “The fuck am I thinking? Great, now I’m hallucinating. No one told me that was another stage of grief.”

He turned his body to walk back inside to look for Kuina, until he heard the young woman getting attacked yell again, this time, clear as day.

“Chishiya! Kuina!”

That was it. That was definitely you.

Chishiya lifted his legs and began sprinting towards the staircase inside. There was no doubt in his mind that that wasn’t you. The way you said his name was too real to not be you.

He tripped and stumbled down the stairs, almost falling flat on his face on one flight. He had to get there before you were dead, for real this time.

As he pushed his entire body weight against the entrance doors to the hotel, he pulled a small knife out his white hoodie pocket. He had made it out of glass from his broken mirror, considering that Hatter wouldn’t allow him to have his own weapons.

Your screams were much more prominent now, more desperate sounding and more fearful. The sound pierced through Chishiya as he made his way quickly around the side of the hotel.

There you were, being pinned against the wall by two militants while Niragi held the barrel of his rifle against your chest, right over your heart.

Chishiya yelled out, which probably wasn’t the best idea considering his current situation. It was three tall men with guns against a small, frail man with a makeshift knife.

“Chishiya! The fuck you doing here?” Niragi asked with a cheeky smirk on his face. God, Chishiya wanted to punch him so bad.

“Let her go Niragi, you don’t want this to get ugly do you?” Chishiya threatened, holding his glass knife out.

Niragi laughed along with the other two militants. You still struggled against their grip, seemingly more calm with Chishiya distracting them.

“How cute ‘ey? Little blonde twink coming to save the love of his life, how sweet of you.” Niragi pressed, pushing his rifle harder against you just to push Chishiya’s buttons.

“If you haven’t noticed Chishiya, she ran away! She never died like you thought she did! She ran away from The Beach, she ran away from you!” 

His words were like bullets in Chishiya’s chest. He felt belittled and mocked, he hated it.

“Shut up! She wouldn’t do that!” he yelled frustratingly.

“Oh really?! She wouldn’t?! Then explain why we managed to find her strolling the streets of Tokyo! Not a scratch on her, and she seemed smart enough to run away when she saw us.”

Chishiya’s scowl dropped on his face. He looked at you to see if you would deny it, but you had stopped struggling against the two men and hung your head low, not looking into his eyes.

He shook off the hurt he felt from this fact. He had to focus on getting you away from Niragi before he took time to think about other things.

“Niragi please. Just let go of her, I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Chishiya begged. He felt small, never has he ever begged for something in his life.

“Hmm? How though? I was just about to have some fun with her before I killed her off. Why should I give that up just because you want me to,” Niragi spat at him. Your eyes widened in fear and you thrashed around in the grip that the militants had on you, panicking from Niragi’s threat.

Chishiya thought for a second. He would honestly give anything to bring you over to him. “My cards. You can take credit for every card that I collect for a couple of months. If Hatter or Aguni asks, just say I’m slacking. I’ll take any punishment they throw my way.”

You saw Niragi consider it before lowering his weapon off of your torso. You breathed out heavily in relief.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to do this again. You can’t bribe me with everything you sneaky fuck.” Niragi growled. The two militants let go of you and followed him out of the alleyway and into the entrance of The Beach.

You leant against the wall, staring at Chishiya as he stared down at the ground below him. The air between you two was tense. You could tell he was mad, Chishiya was always silent when he was incredibly angry.

“Chish, I-”

“Don’t talk to me. Just come.”

Don’t get me wrong, he couldn’t have been happier to see that you were alive and well. But the betrayal he felt from the fact that you ran away from him greatly outweighed his happiness.

He walked briskly ahead of you, you didn’t dare walk next to him or too close to him. He was scaring you a bit, and you wanted nothing but to sprint to your own room and hide from the rest of the world.

You were embarrassed and also frustrated you were caught. Trust Niragi and his cocky ass to find you.

Chishiya stopped in front of his own room, opened the door and gestured for you to walk inside. You hesitated before slowly making your way through the door. You hated how tense it was, it was the complete opposite of what you usually felt when you were around Chishiya.

You sat down on his bed, sitting in an awkward position and looked towards Chishiya. It was complete silence as he was frozen at the door, back towards you and holding the door handle harshly.

“What the fuck Y/N?” he mumbled. It was almost inaudible, but you could hear pain in his words, which made you immediately feel guilty.

“What the fuck was that? You ran away!?” he turned and yelled at you, tears building up in his eyes.

You flinched as his loud voice. You had never heard him yell in anger before, usually he kept his calm. You looked down to the ground, feeling your own eyes fill with hot tears. You felt like you were back in high school with your parents screaming at you for running away from home.

“I THOUGHT YOU DIED!” he shouted louder, “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH PAIN YOU PUT KUINA THROUGH?! HOW MUCH YOU PUT ME THROUGH?!”

You couldn’t breathe. Pain and suffering dripped off his words like rain on a roof, coming together and creating an atmosphere that held air that was unbreathable. You suffocated on the oxygen, making you choke and cause tears to begin running down your cheeks.

“Why!?” he cried. “Why did you run!? There was no reason, me and Kuina could have protected you if you were too scared! Why did you think that running away was the only option!?” Chishiya stumbled closer to you, almost tripping over his own feet.

You flinched heavily as he placed his cold hands on your shoulders roughly. They were shaking from trying to hold your sobs in.

“WHY DID YOU LEAVE-” “Chishiya!” you interrupted him by snapping your head up to meet your eyes with his. His face dropped as he saw the sadness behind yours, replacing the wonderful and cheerful happiness that once swam in your eyes like dolphins in a sea.

“I l-love you,” you mumbled out between your shaky breaths. “That was the problem Chish. I-I’m in love with you and it hurt too fucking bad to know that you could disappear out of my reach at any moment. I ran because I didn’t want to watch you and Kuina die!”

Chishiya’s own hands shook violently against your shoulders. He gazed into your eyes which were red and puffy from your tears. They were shining more now than they had ever before.

“You don’t have to leave Y/N,” he whispered, still trying to control his own breathing. “I want you here, next to me. Not out there, because when you’re out there, I can’t be with you.”

You nodded and smiled sadly. Chishiya pulled his hand from your shoulder and cradled your face gently. He swiped his thumb over your cheek to get rid of the tears there. “I love you too, but I can’t be without you.”

A grin crept onto your face as you looked into his eyes. You felt safer than ever in his arms, why did you think of ever leaving?

Chishiya wiped his own tears with his hoodie sleeve and put on a happier smile. “You want to know how pathetic I am without you?” he giggled and held your hands in his.

“I almost threw myself off the top of the hotel the night you didn’t come back. Kuina had to tackle me to the ground to keep me away from the edge.” he laughed at himself.

You chuckled along with him. “Imagine if you did! What a shocker it would’ve been if I came back and Kuina saw me alive after you killed yourself because you thought I was gone!”

You both sat on Chishiya’s bed and laughed at each other. You had to do it, humour is best in times of stress and anxiety.

*********

You opened your eyes slowly, only to be met with the blinding light of the sun seeping through the blinds. You hissed and turned your head the other way.

Chishiya chucked at your reaction, making his chest that was underneath your head vibrate. “So cute,” he muttered to himself.

You pushed your face deeper into his chest and breathed in his scent. It felt good to be back with Chishiya. It felt good to be home.

Author’s Note: oKaY so this ended up being a lot longer than expected. Please send in some requests if you have any! 🥰🥰

[sp00kworm]

Black Oak (Part 2)

Pairing: Alcott Glyn (Headless Horseman) x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Body Horror, Murder

PART 1 

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The police arrived about an hour after you had woke-up the whole village screaming. Peswick was far away from the nearest city’s response, and you sat shivering, wrapped in a blanket from the house, clutching it close as Mrs Shaw rushed to bring you a hot drink. She and her husband were dressed, but neither went into your house. They rushed back home, bringing you a cup of tea from their own kitchen along with a foil blanket for the shock. You weren’t allowed to touch the body, and you tried to ignore the swinging noise of the corpse as you sat perched on the front doorstep to your home, sniffling into the cup of tea. The police took off their hats as they stepped past your gate, and you watched as the crime scene investigation and forensic van pulled up behind them. The two officers nodded at Mr and Mrs Shaw before smiling as best they could.

“Would you like to come with us, please?” The male officer asked gently, “Lets go inside and we’ll get your statement of events, okay?” The female officer with him looked back at the tree and swallowed hard as Forensics suited up to remove the body and take evidence.

“Come on, Sully.” He ushered his companion as he helped you to your feet and nodded to your neighbours. He whistled and smiled as he opened the door for you, “Nice old place you’ve got here.” He complimented kindly, the corners of his eyes wrinkled with crows’ feet, “Mrs Finch used to live here. Are you a relative?”

 You shook as the officer led you gently into the front room, “It…She was my aunty, distantly.” You whispered as you eased yourself back onto the sofa, clutching the lukewarm tea tightly, as though it was a lifeline in your grasp.

“She was a kind woman. Made a lot of oils out of her garden, but she had nothing but trouble and vandalism with this place. Kids used to make a mess of the sides of the house regularly.” He tipped his head to the wall where the fireplace was, “It was always on the chimney. She never did anything, but the kids called her a witch and all that trollop.” He shook his head.

“You haven’t introduced yourself.” Sue gave him a lopsided smile as she pulled out the clipboards full of paperwork to be completed.

“Ah, so I haven’t!” The officer dipped his head, “I’m Officer Perks.” He pointed to the blond woman with him, “And this is my partner Officer Sullivan.”

You nodded shakily licked your lips, “It was nice to meet you. Thank you for coming. I know...Its far.” A breathy sigh left you as Sullivan took out her pens from her vest and smiled.

“We just need an account of what you did this morning and if you knew the victim.” Percy offered as he sat on your couch, “Spare no details. Even something small to you might be important to us.”

 Conflict burned in your throat and gut as you thought about what had happened, “I don’t remember anything of relevance from last night. I spent the night in bed. I’ve only just moved in, so I was exhausted.” You took a shuddering breath and continued, “I went out this morning to the tree and…and I looked up… and he was hanging there, without his head.” You looked into the tea in your hands, noting that it was now ice cold.

“How long have you been here?” Sullivan asked as she shorthand filled in the details on the paperwork, “You said you moved in recently?” Perks looked from the paper to you and smiled reassuringly.

“I moved in yesterday afternoon.” You whispered and Sullivan gave you a pitying look.

Perks shifted against the cushions, “Did you have anyone with a grudge against you or motive from where you used to live?” He asked.

“No one that I know of.” You answered as you put down the cup of tea, fighting the tears and upset.

“Okay so what time did you find the body?” Perks asked. You took a deep sigh and continued to answer the police officer’s questions well into the afternoon.

 Perks and Sullivan could drink their weight in tea, it turned out, and you offered them many drinks over the course of the few hours. They had a couple each, pens scratching papers as they took notes and an official account of the events for the records. You looked out of the window as Sue and Percy signed the bottom of the page. Crime Scene Investigations were hoisting the body down from the thick black branch of the oak, working to preserve the noose he was swinging by. Three people held the corpse up as they cut the rope carefully, keeping the knot intact and bagging the rope before they got the body down into the bag on the stretcher.

“He’ll need to go to pathology to determine cause of death…though I think I have a pretty good idea.” Sullivan whispered, trying not to be heard as she eyed you sat across from them. Perks rolled his eyes and elbowed his colleague.

“Here. Let me draw the curtains.” Perks stood and reached for the curtains before drawing them over the forensics team dragging the body into the bag, impassive to the blood that stained their tunics and gloves.

“I think we have everything.” Sullivan announced as she stood up and took hold of both their mugs, “I’ll put these in the kitchen for you.” She offered with a small, pathetic smile.

 Perks nodded his head as Sullivan as she left towards the kitchen. You heard her bang the cup on the countertop before you tugged the blanket closer and shifted uncomfortably.

“Thank you for your cooperation today.” Perks took his hat and tucked it under his arm, “I know these kinds of cases are very difficult to talk about. I have this card for you.” He held you out a green printed business card, “That’s the helpline for a couple of organisations and the other side has someone you can seek out if you would like some help talking through all this.”

You looked at the numbers vaguely before nodding and placing the card on the coffee table, “Thank you.” You replied quietly before Perks replaced his hat on his head.

“We’ll see ourselves out. Thank you once again and good afternoon.” He looked at his watch before he opened the lounge door and quietly exited.

Sue scoffed at him in the hall, “Come on. We’ve got these reports to write up.”

“Coming, coming.” Perks grumbled, “Nothing wrong with being nice. They just witnessed a damn corpse…” The voices trailed off as the front door closed behind the two of them with a bang.

 Silence.

 You looked to the curtains and stood up, letting the blankets finally fall from your shoulders as you fisted each side of the heavy curtains. They were old and embroidered with curling leaves. You tugged them open with a heave and watched the police vans trundle away back down the old stone roads, back towards the hills where they had come from this morning. With a deep breath, you tied the curtains back before taking one last long look at the gnarled, black oak in the garden, and heading towards the stairs for a shower and to get dressed. You hoped that a shower would wash away the sticky feeling of malaise on your skin and mind. Hot water usually purged bad thoughts, or so you hoped as you tried to erase the memory of the swinging corpse from the shrivelled branches of the old oak tree.

 You shivered through the house after your shower, wrapped in a jumper and heavy jeans as you tried to navigate the halls without looking out into the garden. The memory of the body lingered with the burning feeling of the heavy box in the other room, filled with an old skull. It was a skull inside. A perfectly preserved ivory skull. The teeth were yellow with age on the enamel, and you looked to the table where the muddy box sat with the key in the lock. The headless creature had moaned and groaned as its head screamed from the other room. You turned and looked at the ornate metal decorations before daring to turn the key again. The lid popped open and flew back to reveal the skull again.

 It sat perfectly still on the cushion, staring at you with empty eyes. With a deep breath, you dared to reach out and touch the skulls surface. It didn’t move. No magical energies tore out of the eye holes. It was perfectly still. It was just a skull. But the memory of it screaming and cursing inside the box was burned into your memory and you carefully picked the skull up, cushioning the bottom of its jaw before your strokes over the place where the eyebrows had once been when it was a man. It had to belong to the headless horseman, but why your aunt had it locked away in her home was another question entirely. You held the skull up to your eyes and peered into the bone of the eye sockets as you pondered your decision. There was a glimmer of gold inside the mouth which caught your eyes, and you dared to open the jaw wide enough to snatch at the shiny object. It was a single heavy golden coin which had been wedge between the back teeth. You looked at the old print and then quickly replaced it, wedging the jaw back shut as you placed the skull away on its pillow.

 It sat and stared at you, and you stared at it, wondering what happened last night as you clutched at your head and sighed. You slammed the lid closed and snapped the lock closed before you placed the box in the centre of the table.

“What the fuck were you up to aunty?” You asked the air as you rushed to the kitchen to make yourself another drink. As you set the water to boil you continued to curse, thinking about the headless man who what invaded your home chasing the poor man who had ended up hanging from the tree in your front yard. The head had screamed ‘witch’ from its confines, but you had no knowledge about what it could mean. You took the hot water and made a drink before looking at the last few boxes of unpacking and scoffing, deciding that the day would be better spent researching what had slaughtered the man and hung him from your tree.

 The village library was barely a few bookshelves put together and you sighed looking at the poor collection of books before you dated to approach the old librarian sat next to the desk. She had her own book open, some trashy romance novel set in the Victorian era, and she looked engrossed as she flipped the page and took another bite of her current tea cake.

“Hello?” You asked quietly in front of her.

The librarian jumped in her seat before she clutched at her chest and adjusted her glasses, “Dearie me! You scared the soul right out of me, love.” she took a moment to take a breath and close her book before she stood with a small wince and smiled, “What can I do for you?”

You could see the questions burning in her eyes. She no doubt knew you were the new person in town, and about what had happened at your home.

“I’m looking for some history books about the town. I wanted to try and get to know the place, but I don’t think there’s anything on the shelves.”

Her face pursed a little before she smiled again and pointed to the last one of the small walls of shelves, “There isn’t a lot but there’s a couple of books on the bottom shelf of the end one. For the records and such I’m afraid you will have to ask at the village hall. Rose keeps them in good nick there, lovely woman she is.”

“Ah, thank you.” You returned her smile and left her to her book as you went to the last set of shelves in the wall and started to rummage through the folklore and history books.

 There wasn’t a lot, she was right, and you sighed after about twenty minutes of pulling out books. You tugged the last, thick history book from the shelf and dusted the cover to reveal a history of the local mines and hills. It wasn’t what you were looking for. You peered at the shelf again and huffed before there was a glimmer of silver lining at the back of the bookcase. You squirmed your hand to the back and plucked the small book from behind the tattered paperbacks. It was a pocketbook, stencilled with an old name in cursive, faded and marred with cage.

‘Maria Theresa Glyn’

You dusted the front and followed the name before looking around and tucking the book into your bag. You felt bad just taking it, but obviously the Librarian had no idea it was there, and the name was familiar to you. You remembered the coat of arms on the old teapot. If this was the diary of someone with the same name it might have clues, or so you reasoned as you plucked a few books from the shelf and took them to the counter after replacing the rest.

 “Did you find what you were looking for, pet?” The librarian asked as you placed the books on the counter. She smiled and pulled out an old paper ticket to write your name onto. She poised the pen over the paper, and you told her your name before she copied it onto another for you and jotted the book codes down. She tutted at the date stamper and fiddled with it to get it to the correct date. Obviously not many people used the library.

“Yes, I found a few interesting things to have a flick through.” You told her as she stamped the tickets inside the books and stacked them in front of you.

“Well, you have fun...and be careful, huh? There’s a lot of weird and wonderful things that go on around here. It would be a shame if you forgot that, and something happened.” She smiled sweetly, but it sent shivers down your spine.

“Thanks. I’ll try.” You smiled awkwardly back at her before you took your arm full of books and made a quick exit back into the chilly air.

 The village seemed to watch you as you wove between the avenue of trees, crunching autumn orange and brown leaves underfoot. The chill in the air mimicked their icy feelings. You were the outsider among them, and soon enough they’d come to hound you out of their home. You only hoped to solve what you had seen. There was no way a headless man was riding around taking heads...right? You tried to console yourself as you made it to your home, and past the gnarled black tree in the front garden. It was twisted and old, and the branches seemed to creak as a greeting on your return. A glare silenced it, or so it seemed, perhaps it was just the wind dying, but the tree went silent as you walked up to the door with your keys in hand. The door swung open when you unlocked it and you clutched at your books as the wind howled into the mouth of the house, screaming down the hall like a ghost before you kicked the front door shut, shivering. The old back boiler chugged in the background as you kicked off your boots and placed the books in the lounge on the small table by the chest.

 When the chest remained still and silent you left to place away your bags and get a drink. You returned, rubbing your eyes as you opened the little journal you had found. It was penned with ink and quill, that much was obvious, and you ran your fingers over the woman’s name again before you touched the crest and went to find the teapot. You grabbed the porcelain handle and placed the two together over your lap. They were the same. The Glyn coat of arms. You placed the teapot down and opened the diary to look at the first passage. It was dated back three centuries ago, back when the alliance was beginning to form between the different races, monsters and humans alike, though you could tell this village hadn’t had such luxury. The entire populace was human, apart from the dairy farmers four miles outside the walls of the village. They were large goblins of some kind, cave dwelling and gangly limbed from years in the dark, but you had only seen them.

 The first passage was written in neat, printed cursive, echoing the care the woman had taken to write her feelings and events down.

‘Today is the day of my birth. My birthday rather. I was given this journal by the kind Mister Glynn, as a gift, and so I find myself beginning to write down the events of my daily life, so perhaps I can look back on it and reminisce when I am old and grey.

 Mister Glyn is a kind soul. He is part of the King’s Royal Entourage and the Commander of a large cavalry unit. Why he is in this small village is unknown to us all, but my father suspects it is because of the Wood Witch. Perhaps he has been tasked with taking her head? It is rumoured the armour he has is enchanted against such magic, but I feel as though those are rumours made about a dangerous and powerful man to excite fear.

 He is nothing but polite to me. I suppose my father will want to marry me off to this one as well.’

 The passages were perhaps a couple of pages maximum, and you flicked through the dates quickly, watching her words change from cold and indifferent to soft and loving of the man see always called Mister Glyn. It wasn’t until a year later in the diary that you saw his true name.

 ‘Alcott escorted me to the capital atop Mallor, his beast of a horse, though the creature seems to like me now that I bring him sugar lumps. Alcott wished to show me the city and its fruits though there is rather less fruit and more muck and grime. I am used to mud on my shoes, but I despised the odour of the place, much to his amusement. As I write, I can hear him snickering at me across the table.’

 There was a few blotches of ink and another set of handwriting.

 ‘She stood in a man’s excrement.’

 Their trip seemed peaceful, and Maria even attended a gathering at court. It seemed well until you found the final page in the diary, written across a page in shaky ink.

 ‘They took his head.’

 There was no fond farewell at the bottom of the page or a cursive signature. It was stark and naked on the yellowed paper, like a bad omen forever preserved. You ran your fingers over the words before you flicked through the last pages seeing nothing but blood splodges and blackened dark blood at the corners. It smelt faintly of rot, and you recoiled from the smell as you looked at the empty bare pages. The back of the book was burned across the inside of the cover. It was mysterious but it seemed like Alcott Glyn had been killed. But by who? You had no idea but as you looked at the chest again and thought of the head inside you shuddered.

 Alcott Glyn. There had to be a grave. You tugged your bag open and stuffed the book inside before you rushed out of the door, locking it quickly as you rushed towards the little church. It was at the top of the hill, sat in a mound of earth, subsiding on one side with props and scaffolding to try and hold it up. It wasn’t used anymore, the town hall was used to any religious needs, but it was haunting. The stained glass was dirty, and the front doors bolted and chained to prevent anyone entering. You rushed around the side of the church and looked at the dates on the graves and the dates in the diary. It had to be the 1700s. You thought back to your history lessons and tried to recall the date of the alliance war. 1774. You rushed around the small paths and glanced at the years, 1770, 1772, 1773... you looked at the gap where the 1774 stone should have stood. There was nothing, just unchurned earth and a set of roses growing from the floor. A troubling feeling settled in your gut as you meandered down the path to the back of the overgrown graveyard. There were old stones, crumbling and forgotten under blackberry vines and leaves. It was chance that you leaned down next to a short stone and looked at the faded name.

 Alcott Glyn.  

 The name was chipped and faded, like the memory of the man. Vines grew in wild abandon over the grave, and the blackberry vines had taken over the base, winding around the whole stone with wide dying leaves. It was perfectly hidden and forgotten about. The village’s little secret in the secluded corner of the graveyard, forgotten and buried. Or apparently, not buried completely. The earth was turned over, like something had ruptured from the ground and burst free. It was a long patch of upturned soil, as long as you were tall, or even longer, and the earth and stones were wet, fresh with the rain from the evening and being upturned, as though someone had run a plower through it.  Carefully, you ran your fingers through the earth, feeling the soil between your fingers before you took a steadying breath.

“Someone came out of this…” You breathed into the chilly air, your breath making mist with the cold as you stood and looked over the grave. You said it again before turning and bolting from the graveyard before the night could fall over the village.

 When you reached home, you threw your bag onto the couch and grabbed the chest, prising the lock open to peer at the skull inside. It was sat, still as a statue, on the cushion, with the glimmer of gold between its jaws. You lifted it from the cushion, carefully, pulling it up to your face level as the sun set over the horizon, bathing you in a golden glow with the skull clasped between your hands. There was nothing but the distant hum of the hot water pipes in the old house to answer your stare. The skull did nothing. It sat in your hands as the sunlight died over the horizon and the night began to settle in. In your gut, disappointment settled with the cold reminder that you were holding a dead man’s skull. A real human skull. Carefully, you placed it back down on the cushion and sighed as you went to draw the curtains, ignoring the creaking of the gnarled oak tree outside your door.

 The wind blew as you looked back at the head in the chest, positioned slightly skewed on the cushion. You chewed your lip and sighed before you stood over it again.

“Alcott Glyn.” You whispered to the skull. Nothing. The old electrics flickered for a moment, dimming before they brightened again. Silence, except for the hum of the back boiler. The breath you had been holding escaped and you turned away with a grumble before the lights surged bright and yellow, like the sun, before the bulbs exploded in a sudden thunder of noise. Glass shattered and flew across the carpet in a shower, and you gasped, covering your ears before you looked back at the cushion.

 The head was sat, jaw agape, with two lights in the blackened sockets, rolling side to side. The little lights rolled like stoned before they settled on you and the open jaw began to jitter, chattering the yellowed teeth together loudly. The skull didn’t move, just snapped it’s teeth like a scared dog before it stopped, and the eyes dimmed. It was only a moment of silence before there were three heavy pounds on your door. With a gasp you rushed to draw the curtains, and gazed upon the creature stood on your doorstep, his steed kicking and throwing it’s head by the twisted roots of the black tree. The body stood there, breathing, its undead chest moving as though it needed the air.

“Alcott Glyn.” You whispered again with a dry mouth. All the moisture dried up from you and you tried not to shake as the skull slammed against the side of the box, it’s eyes glowing.

It shook and chattered its teeth before a voice screamed from between the open jaw, “Let me in, witch!”

Fear twisted your guts as you rushed to slam the chest shut on the screaming skull. It chanted inside the decorative metal, hollering about burning you at the stake before you took it to the front door. The horseman slammed his fist on the door again, repeatedly, as though he was going to tear it open, and you shivered as your fingers shook by the latch and keys.

 The horseman began to bang repeatedly and the head in the chest slammed around, shaking your arms as you struggled to keep hold of it. You took a stuttering breath and unlatched the door, turning the keys before you wrenched it open. The headless horseman heaved puffs of misty breath up from the stump of his neck, his trachea flexing with the movement as the nerves of his spinal cord twitched and thrummed behind it, imitating life in his corpse body.

“Witch!” the skull screamed again, his head you realised as you stepped back, and the creature followed. His boots left muddy smeared marks on the wooden floors, and you looked down to see the crushed blackberries over the soles. Your heart pounded as you realised, he had crawled from the grave you had sat by earlier.

“I saw you by my grave. I will not do business with you again.” His voice came from his body this time, contorted and dark as it leaked from his lungs like a wisp.

“Business? What business have you?” You asked, voice shaking with fear.

The skull laughed in its box, a malicious and evil noise, dark and tempting, as though you were truly stupid for asking, “What business did we not have? Have you forgotten in your age, crone? Death and blood, that’s what you wanted, and I delivered it.”

“Who did you have the deal with?” You steeled yourself.

“You, you pathetic soothsayer.” He droned before his dead fist slammed the door closed, “Now give me my head. Our bargain is met.”

“I am not my aunty.” You tried, “I have no deal with you.”

 The horseman stopped, his body stiffening as his horse brayed and screamed outside, kicking its hooves at the black oak with a great smash. The tree shook, shedding twigs, but didn’t fall. He stalked closer, the bulk of his frame blocking out the light from the moon and the electric fitting overhead.

“But you have my head.” The skull whispered from inside the box before he grabbed for the chest. He touched the metal of the latch and screamed, the noise escaping the corpse before you and the skull inside the box. It was an ear piercing, unholy noise which burned your ears and made your head swim in agony. The horseman clutched at his chest and the stump of his neck, his gloved fingers pressing into the gored wound of his neck as he wobbled towards the wall and grasped at it for balance.

 “Fuck.” You cursed before you whipped the chest open and grabbed his skull by its eye sockets, hanging it over him as he slid down the wall and screamed again in agony, twitching against the wood.

“If I give you your head, horseman, will you indebt yourself to me? Your previous contract will be null, and you will only serve me.” You announced.

The horseman writhed before going deathly still. He laid like a corpse for a moment or two before shakily he braced his arm against the floor and pushed himself up. With a shudder he got onto his knees and kneeled before you, his neck dipped to expose the sore, congealed wound of his decapitation.

“I... I will serve.” The horseman gurgled.

“Then I give you your head to end your torment, Alcott Glyn.” You promised before you held his skull between your palms and lowered it to the spinal column of his body.

 There was a great groan as the spine extended from Alcott’s body and snapped to the skull, holding it in place as the eyes burned bright with purple light, the colour of blackberries, rolling in his skull as he reached and clasped at the bone, howling as light burned from the base of his neck and enveloped his skull with a whoosh of purple fire. The fire abated quickly as the moonlight disappeared behind the curtains and the skull shimmered as muscle and tendons swarmed the bone, linking and covering the surface before the he howled, and skin crept from his neck to his face, covering the surface in a perfect alabaster coating. His eyes however, remained voids of black, the centres beautiful blackberry lights in the dimness of your home. Black waves of hair grew from his head, dripping over his shoulders like ink as he howled, leaned against the old wallpaper. They finished growing with a crackle of fire, purple flames licking at the ends before it disappeared, leaving a heaving, black eyed creature curled against the wooden floor.

 Your mouth hung open as you watched the horseman shake against the wood, heaving as he reached to clutch at the hair that draped from his previously naked skull. The inky waves slid through his gloved hands and was quickly marred with dirt and blood before he peered at you through the curtain, looking at you with the purple lights in his irises which were sunken back into his skull. His lips parted before he took a deep breath, wheezing out dust and muck, coughing like a goose before he kicked the chapped skin and crawled closer to your feet. He only looked at you, staring before one gloved hand whipped out and snatched your ankle, holding it tightly in an iron grip.

“Bound to your bloodline again...” he growled, “Humiliating.” Before he pushed himself back and stood, swaying on his legs like a new-born deer as his balance came back to him. Having a head was a heavy burden.

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” You breathed as Alcott slammed the side of his head and beat dirt out of his ears.

“Of course, you don’t. None of you ever do. Now I’m bound here to you until the day you drop dead and rot. Why can you never let me die?” He growled in a worked-up fury, flinging his hands to the windows before he stalked to the door, his boots slamming against the wood. He swung it open, and his mount brayed in greeting, throwing its giant head back before it caught sight of you and snorted, bowing it’s neck like a graceful Swan.

 “You are all the same!” The horseman shouted before the moon was revealed, a cloud moving away from its white surface. He shuddered and you watched the skin on his face disappear with the muscle, revealing the purple lights in a bare, burning skull. As the cloud recovered the moon, the base of his neck flared with purple smoke and fire, revealing the scar where he was decapitated, and his face reappeared.

“I gave you your head back, Alcott!” You shouted after him.

The horseman shivered and turned back to you, looking at you with his haunting eyes, both hands gripping the pommel and stand of the saddle, “How do you know my name?” He whispered in questioning.

With a small breath, you locked your lips nervously and ducked back to the table, grabbing the little diary from you bag before you stood on your porch and held it out to the wraith, “Maria wrote about you.”

He growled and snatched at the book, and you let him take it with a painful smile, “I know the townspeople killed you. They betrayed you. I don’t know what happened to Maria.” You confessed.

Alcott opened the diary and flicked through it before he looked at the night sky, “She lived in mourning the rest of her life. They institutionalised her after they found her carrying my head, wailing through the town. She died, high on cocktails of medicines, with her head buried in the soft soil of a flower bed.”

 The revelation was something of a shock and you looked at the undead man in front of you with a bitter, pitying look.

“You watched her die, didn’t you?” You asked, barely above a whisper.

The horseman scoffed, “That was the curse after all. To terrorise the town for their betrayal. But not her. I used to try call to her from the window, but she never could bare to look at me. Eventually they gave her more cocktails and she stopped coming to the window all together.”

“Jesus Christ.” You cursed.

“Such foul language.” Alcott sneered as he snapped the diary shut in his gloved hand, “She died from the madness and grief. That is the fault of the town and its yet another reason to run into each of these homes and tear their heads from their bodies.” Alcott spat furiously. As fury overtook him you could see the white scarred seem of where his head had been replaced burning with smoke the purple fumes puffing from it like a new wound before his neck popped and cracked, sending his head to the left, hanging on by a thread of flesh to the other side. You let out a screech and clasped your mouth as the horseman gurgled and reached for his head, grasping it by the hair before he groaned and dragged it back into place, snapping the vertebrae back into place with a twist and a squelch of bloodied tissue. It cracked again quickly, and Alcott held the top of his hair tightly with a groan as the smoke poured from his mouth and his head twisted backwards like a ghoul, spinning on his neck before it snapped again and came free, rolling over the floor to your feet as a skull. The flesh and hair melted in waves of muck from its surface, and you shakily took hold of the skull again.

 The horseman stumbled left and right as he reached towards you for his head.

“MY HEAD, WITCH!” He howled at you, but you dashed back up the porch steps and held it protectively.

“You are under my command. Anything against my wishes is against our contract...so you lose your head. Do you hear me horseman?” You blagged, hoping you were right, “So there will be no killing.”

“Evil, corrupt creature. I'll hang you by your feet and bleed you from the neck!” Alcott threatened as fire and smoke poured from his throbbing trachea. The smoke puffed before he went sent to the floor in agony, the black oak behind him creaking and swaying left and right as though the roots were snaking towards him. Sure enough, the ground rumbled, and the black oak’s roots exploded from the ground, snagging the horseman by his wrists and ankles hoisting him into the air as the branches hissed and his mount, Mallor, brayed and screamed, blood spraying over the fence from the horses broken throat.

 It was a curse. You should have expected as much, but you shook as the tree cinched the man’s limbs, holding them tight before it pulled, making him scream in agony as his joints were pulled tight.

“Stop!” You screamed, and the tree stopped pulling, holding the horseman aloft still as it swayed and bent towards you, its branches touching your head as though trying to figure out who you were.

“He is mine.” You told the tree, “He will obey and submit to the laws of his contract.”

The tree groaned, it’s roots wiggling in the cold, hard earth for a moment before it dropped Alcott like a sack of grain and settled down quietly, smacking at the horse inching closer to its trunk.

Alcott touched at his neck as he rose, swaying as he cracked and snapped his joints back into place like a disjointed puppet.

“Are you going to play nice now?” You asked as the man wheezed in front of you. When he nodded you offered him his skull back and watched the skin and flesh cover its surface again before he snarled behind his curtain of overgrown hair, blackberry-coloured lights burning the void of his eyes.

“You truly are her kin if that disgusting thing listens to you.” He snapped as he headed for his horse and mounted the saddle with a quick bounce on one powerful leg, his thighs locking tight around the beast’s sides as it bucked and brayed. Alcott turned his horse and tipped his head with a wave of purple smoke and fire, “Call on me then, witch, and see what havoc I can wreak for you.” Alcott laughed bitterly as he turned Mallor onto the cobbled drive and rode onto the road, his face becoming bone and flesh intermittently as the clouds passed overhead.

“I’m not a witch!” You screamed after the horseman, but he was gone into the mist and the trees, unlikely to have heard you cursing against the stairs of the porch as you collapsed.

[t-lostinworlds]

The Choices We Make (Tom Holland) [2]

A/N: First off, i would like to say thank you so much for all the love and support on part 1, it truly means the world to me <3 second, i am so sorry for the long wait but here we are! thank you for your patience you kind angels! Hope you guys like this as much as the first aha! x

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tom realises what you two had and everything that he wasted. He realises he needed to fight for you and that he can’t lose you for good. But will he be able to make things right and have you back in his arms again or will it be too late?

Warnings: heart wrenching angst, a lot of crying from both persons, a bit of fluff but it’s flashbacks and typos?

Word Count: 14.4k+

Masterlist in Bio

NOTE: Flashbacks are in Italics

-:-:-:-:-

Where does Tom start?

Well, he can start with the fact that he's miserable. The fact that he's a disgusting piece of shit who deserves nothing but to be miserable, no less, maybe more.

You were so good to him, too good. You treated him more than he deserved. Even after what he did, even after he betrayed you, never did you treat him any less of man when in fact, he deserves to be treated like shit.

With a heart as kind as yours, when you showed him nothing but pure love, how could he have done what he did? A question so heavy as Tom asks himself as to why, but only ends up empty, it only ends up unanswered.

This makes him feel even more stupid. A downright disgrace given that he's ruined something so precious and special all for nothing, not even for something remotely worth it.

He could say he did it for sex, which is really rotten no matter the circumstance, doesn't make things better even by the littlest bit. But even then, it still wasn't worth it. He threw away so much just for sex? What a shallow reason to destroy such a beautiful relationship isn't it?

Quite frankly, nothing he will ever say will make things better. Not a single reason would justify the way he broke such a kind heart that gave him nothing but blissful happiness, gave him the truest forms of love.

The damage has already been done, he's already destroyed everything, hearts and trusts turned to nothing but fractured pieces.

Just how could he? How could he have done that to you?

You didn't deserve any of it.

All the times he's ignored you, made you feel unwanted. The countless times he's pushed you away and hurt you with his angry words. Hell, just the fact that he's made you feel like you weren't enough was a crime in itself.

Tom has been with you for three years, three fucking years, and during that time you had always been enough, more than enough. But that's the thing, realization and regret always comes last, always comes when it's too late.

You only realize just how much something is worth until you lose it.

It's been hours since you left, and Tom feels so utterly lost.

You we're his true north and now that you're gone, he was lost. Lost on where he'll go from here, lost on what to do, lost on who he's become.

A part of him knew he should've chased after you, but then what? He doesn't know what more he could say. He was still in deep doubt if he was fixing things or breaking it further if he continued to run his mouth. He at least needs to get his mind straight, get himself together or he'll say something that will make things even worse than it already is.

Tom sulked in bed right after everything, right after he heard that front door shut. He let himself drown in his tears and his regretful thoughts, both overwhelming him to the point that he passed out without even realizing.

Now, here he was, fully awake but still in bed. The sun was on its highest but Tom had no clue what time it was. With a broken phone, there was no way of telling unless he moves to grab a watch. But he doesn't really feel like moving. He just wants to rot in bed — or in hell as he rightfully deserves — and do absolutely nothing.

The whole house was eerily quiet and very cold, and he doesn't want to explore its state when he knows how it was coated with so much warmth before, your warmth. Was this how it felt for you when he doesn't come home? If so, then Tom feels even more of a shitty person than he already is.

But the world won't stop its course just to wait for him now won't it? So despite it all, Tom willed himself to get up and out of bed with a heavy heart, pushed himself to at least do the next right thing, whatever it may be.

Feet dragging against the tiled floor, Tom reached the living room with a broken sigh. His bloodshot eyes landed on the number of frames on top of the fireplace, photos upon photos of you and him, his frown deepening as the pain squeezed at his heart.

He walked over and took one in his hand, the one where Tom had an arm wrapped around your waist as he rests his head on your shoulder, eyes crinkling at the corners as both of you smiled wide and bright, the calming view of the Grand Canal just behind you as you explore the wondrous city of Venice.

The photo was taken by Harry during the shooting of Spider-Man: Far From Home, where you traveled with him and supported him from the first day to the very last.

It was such an innocent picture, mundane even, but so many memories came flooding inside Tom's mind with one simple look. And slowly but surely he was reminded how it used to be, how happy you both were just being together. Tom was reminded how special, how real it was, what you two had.

It doesn't even end with just the pictures, the whole house was a constant reminder too all the things he's wasted, all the beautiful things that made him feel nothing but pride and joy, utter euphoria to have such a wonderful woman in his life.

The whole house that was littered with all things you, from every room to every hall, from your precious laughter to the gorgeous sounds of pleasure that once bounced off the very same walls. Tom can still hear it, replaying inside his head loud and taunting to not let him forget each blissful memory that composed of you and him.

But now it's tainted by his blatant mistake, spoiled by his scandalous choices and he will never be able to forgive himself for that.

With a sharp intake of breath, Tom wiped the tears that slipped down his cheek with the back of his hand. He brought the frame up to his shirt to rid of the droplets that coated the glass, returning it back gently, carefully in sheer fear that he'll break it if he wasn't cautious enough.

Tom knows he owes you countless amounts of apologies, and at least a proper closure. He wasn't going to let last night be the end of it all, he knows he needs to talk to you. He needs to answer whatever question you have, and tell you what he truly feels. He just knows that the demons in your head are relentless. In whatever way he can, he needs to appease your mind with nothing but honesty so that it won't eat you up from the inside out.

He won't be able to live with himself even more if he just leaves you to blame yourself for his choices. And he's not going to stop until it sticks with you that this was nowhere near your fault. This was all on him, and he has to make sure you understand that loud and clear.

So right after he's bought a new phone, he drove towards the only place he knows where you'll be.

***

"Come on guys, open up," Tom tried again, knuckles rapping at the wooden door for the tenth time.

He's been outside the twins' house for roughly fifteen minutes now, and it's either no one was home or they were ignoring him. He figured it was the latter for obvious reasons, and he was proven right when he heard rushed footsteps on the other side when he gave the door another knock.

"Go away Tom, I genuinely don't want to deal with you right now," Harry fumed, boiling anger evident in his tone, a dead giveaway that he was well aware of what had happened.

Did Tom really expect his brothers to be calm about it? No, not even by a little. If he fucks up, they're the first ones to put him back in his place. And now—well, now he fucked up very badly.

Too add to that, the boys care about you a lot. It's been such a heartwarming thing for Tom to see you grow close with them, to see them accept you as part of the family. He understands why they're angry at him and they have every right to be.

"I know she's in there. Just open up, please," Tom sighed, palm flat against the surface as he waits for the lock to click open. Harry scoffed at that, voice muffled due to the door that's still in the way. "She is, but what gave you the idea that she wants to see you?"

That stung, but Tom also can't say he was surprised. Hell, he can't even look at himself without grimacing, so he wasn't expecting any less from you. He wasn't expecting things to go smoothly at all with the weight of his actions.

"Look, I get why you're mad at me. But Harry please, I just need to talk to her," he begged, but still to no avail as his brother growled in response. "What part of 'she doesn't want to see you' do you not fucking get?"

Tom was running out of patience, especially now with his emotions all over the place as with his mind. It was crowded in his head, very loud and obnoxious, just pushing and poking until he felt his anger bubble slowly. And before he could stop himself and take a deep breath to stay calm, his voice boomed,

"Just let me in damn it!" Tom's fists hit the door harshly, his emotions overpowering him to the point where he's becoming rash with his actions. He wasn't frustrated at his brother by all means, he was frustrated at himself. After all, there was no other person to blame why everything in his life has gone to absolute shit.

"Oh go and fuck off!" Harry barked, just fuming at the fact that Tom had the audacity to show his face at his house and give him attitude.

"I'm your fucking brother!" Tom knew that was a bullshit come back but he tried it anyway, he'd try anything at this point, growing desperate with each passing second.

He just really needs to see you. He needs some sense of familiarity, someone to ground him back, someone who's going to tame his mind before he losses it completely. That someone has always been you, his sense of peace, his rock.

"Ah yes! Please do remind me Tom because that's the only thing stopping me from going out there to break your fucking teeth you asshole!" It was obvious that both brothers were now feeding off of each other's emotions, voices loud as they go back and forth, and it was only a matter of time before one explodes which well then make things take an awful turn.

"Jeez Harry, calm down for a second yeah?" Sam's voice interrupted before things start to escalate further. What Tom heard next was fairly inaudible, but he can picture the twins arguing, just hearing the exchange of muffled voices. Then a few seconds later —much to his surprise — Sam opened the door.

Tom met his brother's eyes, a breath of relief coming out of him. "Thank you Sa—"

"Don't thank me, this wasn't my decision," Sam said solemnly with a stoic look on his face, a dissatisfied tone in his voice that Tom was quick to catch. "She's waiting for you in the garden," his brother added, stepping out of the way to let Tom in. He locked with Harry's angry eyes on the way, Tom's frown deepening as he tries to say something, to basically apologise for yelling when he has no right to.

"Harry I—"

"Just fucking walk," his brother sneered, tone ice cold. All Tom could do was nod as he pressed his lips into a thin line, walking pass the twins with his head hanging low in shame. Though never did he miss — nor will he forget — Harry's death glare and Sam's disappointed gaze as he made his way towards the back door.

***

The loud bang on the front door and the yelling was what you woke u—no, the fact that the loud voice belonged to Tom was what woke you up.

You don't know how long you've been asleep for, and to be honest, you could still need a bit more.

Last night was still clear as day inside your head. Everything that had happened you remembered as detailed as it can possibly get, from you reading that text message to then running out the house and calling Harry to come pick you up. You knew fully well you weren't in the right state of mind to drive, and you were glad that he didn't mind at all.

Sam came with him, both sporting their worried looks once they pulled over and saw your state. Though they didn't ask any questions once you got inside the passenger's seat, neither pushed to give you air to breath, them only knowing that Tom did something terribly wrong by the way you were crying on the phone.

The three of you just drove around the city for a while, windows down with the music blaring to try and get your mind off of it as much as they can. Both ordered pizza and opted on eating in the car that was parked near the River Thames, looking out into the gorgeous view of the Tower Bridge as it shines its lights in the night. You talked about anything and everything but the elephant in the room—well, car.

You only poured everything out to them when you got back to their house. Full on balling on the couch as you try and form a coherent sentence on what just happened. First they were surprised, unable to believe that their brother could do such a thing. Then you saw the anger cross their features little by little, more so with Harry than Sam. You've traveled with Harry quite a lot, you were a little closer with the boy due to the time spent together, but not by much of course.

They offered you the guest room right after, said that you can stay for as long as you need to. They both were real sweethearts about it, and you owe them a lot for keeping you sane for those couple of hours. You couldn't stomach to imagine what you could've done if they weren’t there.

You thought you'd just let them handle Tom, to not come out of the room until he's gone. You have no idea what more you could say or do if you see him again face to face, especially when everything that has happened was only in a span of under twenty-four hours. You were still overwhelmed, a complete mess both physically and emotionally.

But when you heard just how angry Harry was and how Tom was close to reaching there as well, you couldn't just sit still and let the problem grow even bigger. You can't let yourself be the reason that would cause a tear in their relationship with each other. Because by the end of everything, they're still brothers no matter what.

So slowly, you got out of bed, treaded into the living room where you found Sam sat on the sofa. His leg was bouncing anxiously as he listens to his brothers argue, clearly torn on what was the right thing to do. You walked up to him with a small smile, surprise crossing his features once he saw you awake.

He quickly said that he'd try and talk to Tom and make him leave, assuming that you are uncomfortable with him around but you only shook your head no. You told him it's okay to let his older brother in and that you'll just wait in the back garden for whatever it is he wanted to talk about.

Although relunctant, Sam didn't question your decision further. He just pulled you in for a warm embrace before flashing you a reassuring smile and then walking towards the front door.

Once sat on the wooden bench that was right on the back porch, you kept your gaze steady on the greenery in front of you, back facing the house as you tried to clear your head as much as you can. Basically to organized your thoughts and emotions. The cold evening breeze was helping to calm your nerves, your eyes following the gentle sway of the trees and the soft rustle of the bushes, the hum of the wind invading your ears in the most soothing way. It was a serene sight, so comforting, and slowly you felt yourself relax.

But the moment of peace was soon cut short, your eyes screwing shut once you heard the sliding door open and then close. His footsteps were light but the sound was already deafening for you, as if the rest of the world turned mute for you can only hear his shoes hitting the pavement, just ringing in your ears as you waited in anticipation.

Tom sat down beside you with a hold of his breath, heart aching once he saw your tear-stained cheeks, once he noticed how you kept your eyes tightly closed, purely refusing to look at him for even a split second.

His fingers started to fidget as nerves started to consume him. The action was also in a way to stop himself from reaching over to take your hand, to just feel your skin on his, because oh how much he's miss it, how much he's miss you.

He wasted a month of not holding you, of not getting to truly touch you, and he so badly wanted to pull you closer to him now, to make up with the time lost. But Tom wasn't going to push his luck, not going to over step boundaries because he wasn't in the place to make such decisions, not anymore. He knows that there were so little of both left that if he gets too near, he might end up pushing you farther away. He wasn't going to risk it.

On the way here, he's thought about all the things he was going to say to you. He repeated his speech over and over inside his head even though his words were a jumbled mess. It was something at least, a start. But now that he was seating here with you just a couple inches away, Tom's mind has gone blank. With the hundreds of words he's planned on saying, his lips could only let go of one.

"Y/N..."

You could pinpoint so many things with just the simple call of your name. The guilt, the longing, the regret, even the adoration, it was all there. Having known him for a while, you have gotten good at reading him, even if it's only from his voice, from the highs and lows to the different tones. But that was before, now, you weren't so sure if you actually ever knew him at all.

"What are you doing here Tom?" you asked softly, eyes opening with a sigh but still avoiding his at all costs. Tom ran an anxious hand through his hair, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees as he kept his gaze trained on your beautiful face, smile gone and glow dimmed out, but still so beautiful in his eyes nonetheless.

With a deep breath, he spoke, "I-I came here to apologise, for everything. I know it won't do much but I'm not going stop saying how sorry I am. What I did was so fucked up and I am so sorry darling, I really am," Tom paused and waited for you to get a chance to respond. But when you kept looking forward, when you didn't even move a single muscle, he sighed before adding. "And I just need you to know that this is all on me, none of this is your fault, please keep that in mind Y/N. You did absolutely nothing wrong."

You nodded with a shaky breath, and as you gathered all the strength you could muster, slowly you turned to face him.

The look in your eyes only did nothing but sharpen the pain in Tom's chest. Your once joyful orbs were now bloodshot and full of hurt, all because of him. The more he stared into them, the guiltier he got. The weight of what he's done so evident in your gaze, reminding him of all the promises he broke, reminding him just how much he's broke you.

"Do you have feelings for her?" you asked after a few moments of silence, bottom lip trembling despite trying your best for it not to. Tom shook his head with a deep frown, "No, I don't."

He knew where this was heading. You were going to ask him the questions that's been nagging inside your brain, and Tom was going to answer each one with the truth, no second guessing, just pure honesty.

You shifted in your seat, clearing out the lump that formed in your throat before speaking. "Was she better than me in bed?" you trailed off.

Tom couldn't help but wince at the fact that you've thought about it. He felt so disgusted at himself for such an awful deed, so revolted for putting that image inside your brain.

"No. She doesn't compare to you. I'm so so late on realising this but she doesn't make me feel things the way only you can," he answered truthfully, but you looked away.

You just couldn't hold his gaze. To stare at those brown eyes you once called home, those eyes that used to make you feel safe, it's just a sharp stab at your heart knowing that those same eyes betrayed you. It took everything in your power to not break down, unable to think further about everything without bursting into endless tears, unable to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

Tom saw this, he saw it in the way you looked at him for that split second, how you just don't trust him anymore. And oh does it hurt, but what did he expect?

You picked at your fingers nails as you kept your head low, trying your hardest to hold yourself together, concealing everything in. But you were grasping onto broken pieces, your heart and mind all fractured, too fragile. The harder you try to keep them as one whole piece, the deeper the cuts you inflict on yourself.

And the picture of him with another woman, touching her in a way that he used to touch you, it feels so vile, an agonizing torture for your already broken heart, and you don't know how much more of the pain you can handle. You don't know how much more you can endure before everything finally falls apart and becomes too damaged to put back together.

But what if that was the right thing to do? What if it was needed to let everything fall apart, to loosen your grip on the broken pieces of yourself for the wounds to heal, for you to be able to start anew? Maybe all you need is for everything to break down completely so you can build them back up, stronger and better.

"She's more beautiful than me isn't she? Has a better body? More talented? She's simply just better than me?" you croaked, trying your best to keep it together. But you were almost there, almost at the point of just letting the whole thing go, to let every emotion come flooding out, the bad and the ugly.

"Fuck no," Tom protested, rubbing a palm across his face in anger, entirely directed at him for planting that thought inside your head in the very first place. He hates seeing you like this, so hurt and full of doubt for no other reason than because of what he did. Tom wanted nothing more than to take away your pain, to take it in himself. He's the one who deserves to suffer, not you, never you.

With a deep breath, Tom tried to keep his emotions steady, gaze still set on you — despite it not being returned since you kept looking forward — his voice soft as he continued, "I know my words don't have any weight for you right now but believe me when I say that you will always be the most beautiful woman I've ever met, both on the outside and the inside, from your heart, to your mind and your soul. You are a gorgeous, wonderful and amazing woman Y/N. Please don't doubt that because of the stupid mistake I did."

The moment you locked eyes with him again, Tom's breath got caught in his throat. Your eyes coated with question, utter distress and seething anger, but the pain, God the pain, Tom can feel it sharp and deep in his bones.

Tears fell from your eyes as tried your best to keep your voice steady, but you just couldn't, with the all the different emotions boiling deep inside, you just couldn't.

"Then why Tom? Why?" you sobbed, Tom's heart shattering at the agonizing sound.

He sat straighter, eyes turning glossy but it never left yours, brown orbs boring into your own. "I-I wish I could give you a good enough reason why I did it but I really don't know. All I know is that I was stupid and it was a huge mistake. I realise that now, a little too late but I did. I took what we had for granted—I took you for granted, and I will always regret it until I die."

"You're just saying the things I want to hear." You shook your head with a soft whimper, breaking his gaze as you shut your eyes, enabling more tears run down and coat your cheeks.

"No darling, look at me," Tom croaked, taking the risk as he reached over to take both your hands in his, and you let him, no flinching, you let him touch you. His heart beat rapidly against his chest as he gave it a squeeze, a silent way of asking you to look at him.

A shaky breath came out of you at the feeling of his warm skin, your tear-filled eyes meeting his own once again, seeing nothing but transparency as he spoke, "I haven't lied to you from the minute I sat here. It's hard to believe, I know. But I swear on Tessa's life I'm telling you the truth, every single word I've said."

Tom moved closer, fingers nervously fiddling with yours as he tried his best to keep his tears at bay. "I-I really do want you back. I want you to come back home, I want to hold you in my arms again but after everything I've done to you, I understand why that won't ever happen. And y-you deserve someone better, so much better than m-me," he choke back a sob, bottom lip trembling at his last sentence.

"You hurt me Tom, so bad," you whimpered, voice laced with so much agony, no more holding everything in as the strong façade you've been putting on crumbles.

To see you break down in front of him, your hands shaking in his grasp, nothing but utter pain coating the dips and valleys of your face, that was all it took for Tom to crack. His tears now streamed down his face, falling freely one after the other as his emotions came crashing through like a tidal wave.

"I-I know darling, I know and I'm s-so fucking sorry," he spluttered, feeling his throat close up as he tried to blink away the tears, to rid of his blurry vision so he can see you. He just wants to see you, cherish every second since he has no idea if there would be a next time after this.

Then delicately, Tom lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing your palm sweetly, all adoringly before he placed it flat against his warm and damp cheek, leaning into your touch with a shaky breath. "I'm so sorry angel," he whispered, voice filled with pure regret and guilt.

You remained silent, still looking into his eyes but you kept still, not knowing where you'll go from here. But then Tom lets out a nervous sigh. "And I want you to know that I—" he cut himself off as cleared out his throat, eyes staring deep into your own before he spoke with absolute sincerity,

"I love you."

Your lower lip quivered with a soft cry, eyes closing as shook your head at him. "That's the first time you've said that to me since you came back home," you said, breath unsteady as you replay those three words inside your head.

Eight letters tied together giving you an overwhelming feeling. That's what it does when you haven't heard those words escape his lips in a long time. And oh how you missed it, you missed hearing him say it, but what did it cause for you to hear it again? Too much, way too much to the point that you were unsure if the words hold the same true meaning as before, doubtful if it meant anything at all or if he just casually threw it in there for the sake of it.

Tom nodded regretfully, letting go of your hand as he went to hold your face, thumb caressing your cheek tenderly, your eyes opening at the feeling of his skin on yours. "And I wish I could've said it to you more often because I truly love you Y/N. If I could go back and change everything, I would in a heartbeat. If I could go back in time I'd tell you over and over just how much you mean to me, how important you are in my life. I'd tell you every hour of every day just how much I love you."

With a sharp intake of breath, Tom leaned forward until his forehead was now resting against yours. His proximity was intoxicating, the tips of your noses were almost brushing and you thought it would be too much, but it wasn't. You welcomed it, the feeling of being so close to him because after everything, his eyes still have the hold against you, Tom will always have a hold against you.

"I love you so much darling and I fucking hate myself for not showing you that enough, because you deserve nothing more than to know that you are loved, to feel that you are loved. And I am so sorry for failing you at both." he whispered, and with one look into his eyes, you knew he was being genuine, his voice was trembling but still, you can hear it, feel it inside you that he was being honest.

But was that enough to make you feel reassured? Was that all enough for everything to go back to the way it used to be?

No, it wasn't. It wasn't enough to let your heart win over your brain.

"I just need space to think, I'm sorry," you muttered softly as you pulled your face away from his grasp, letting out a small sniffle before crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive stance, to hold yourself in a way. Tom felt his whole chest ache, but he didn't protest. He lets you go despite not wanting to.

"No, it's okay love and I completely understand. I wasn't expecting you to just jump back in my arms when I came here. I just really needed to say all of these to you." Tom shot you a small, broken smile before he lowered his head, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

Silence hung in the air for a few hellish seconds, turning awkward, deafening with each tick. And when you didn't say another word, Tom took that as a sign, took it upon himself to draw a conclusion.

"Uhm—yeah, I-I think this is my cue to leave," he muttered under his breath and stood up from his place, giving you one last glance to see you only spare him a nod, eyes looking anywhere but at him. With a defeated sigh, he started to walk away, but before he could reach the door, your voice stopped him.

"Tom wait—"

He immediately spun around with hopeful eyes to see you on your feet, already facing him with a small frown. Tom was ready, eager to run to you, to hear the words he so desperately need, to kiss you with all that he has as you take him back. But just as how quick he built that hope up, it was slapped away in an instant when you spoke again.

"Can you pack my stuff up for me please? I-I can't—I don't think I can go back at the house," you breathed out, eyes meeting his as you shifted from one foot to the other. "Just my clothes and toiletries, you can throw the other stuff away."

Tom's heart sunk into the pit of his stomach. The thought of you unable to go back to the house, your home, it was heartrending but there was no other person to blame for that. He searched your eyes, tried to read any hesitation on your face, because he can't accept it. He can't bear to fathom the thought of getting rid of each trace of you in the house. Tom won't be able to handle it because it feels like the final nail on the coffin, after it's done then there's nothing more to go back to.

But when he saw nothing, when he saw that you do in fact mean it, that it is what you want, he forced a tight-lipped smile. "Anything you need love."

You nodded somberly, "Just leave it in the front porch and I'll get it once you're done."

No more words were said after that, Tom unable to slip in a response as you turned your back on him. And with a gloomy sigh, he pulled the door open and went back inside the house.

The moment he reached the living room, the twins both stood up from their places on the couch, both sporting worried looks as they watched their older brother walk with his head hanging low.

"Uhm, thank you for looking after her and I'm really sorry," Tom said as met his brother's eyes. The boys saw a glimpse of what happened outside, and by the look on Tom's face, they knew that their brother deeply regrets what he's done. If anything, he needs them more now, and what harm will it do when they cut him some slack? Tom was already beating himself up black and blue, he doesn't need more of it from everyone else, especially the ones he truly cares about.

Sam was the first to approach him, a sympathetic smile plastered on the lad's lips as he gave him a comforting hug, a loving pat on the back before moving out of the way. Harry came into view next, hand rubbing at the back of his neck guiltily as he said, "I'm sorry for being an asshole earlier." Tom shook his head at him with a faint smile. "It's fine Harry. I deserved it."

His brother tilted his head to the side with a sad smile, moving closer to pull Tom in for a warm embrace. "Take care of yourself," Harry muttered. Tom lets out a shaky breath as he gave his brother a squeeze.

"I'll try."

***

It was so hard packing your stuff up. The fuller your bags got, the heavier Tom's heart grew. And it took him so long to get it done because he just needed to take a breather in between, the ache in his heart overwhelming him to the point that he can't stop his tears from free flowing.

On a slightly brighter note, he does have a sweet girl to comfort him, a precious staffy who'd lay her head on his lap whenever she hears him stifle out a few tears.

Tessa was supposed to stay with his parents for a couple more days, but Tom couldn't endure being alone in the house. So, he cut her little vacation short and stopped by at their house on his way home right after you two had the talk. Tom told them what had happened, disappointed looks unavoidable but they still gave him a much needed comfort and a few heartfelt advice, and for that he was grateful.

He drove home and went straight to bed right after, tried to get some sleep but struggled to say the least. But after a few doses of alcohol and a couple more tears, exhaustion took over him eventually.

Now it was midday, the rays of the sun shining through the bedroom windows, wrapping the space with warmth but Tom wasn't mirroring the mood, the clear blue sky unable to lift his spirits up.

He was sat on the floor of your shared closet, eyes trained on the already empty shelves. He stared at it for a couple seconds before his gaze fell right beside him where your suitcase was situated, now filled and entirely full.

Tom blew out his cheeks as he reached over to zip it up, the sound unpleasant to his ears, unbearable that his eyes screwed shut to keep the tears in. His head was already pounding; he figured crying some more wasn't going to help.

After a few calming breaths, he felt something nudge at his arm, lids shooting open to see Tessa with a stuffed animal in her mouth. "What have you got there?" Tom asked sweetly as he took the toy from her grasp, heart aching once he saw what it was.

He looked back at Tessa with a small smile. She's a clever girl but Tom just knows the dog was properly confused as to why he was packing her mummy's stuff up.

It pained him to think about it, that he would have to try and explain to her why you'd be no longer around. Tessa loves you quite a lot, absolutely attached that the pup tends to look for you first each time she's back in the house, a jab at Tom's ego but he adores it nonetheless. Hell, she explored each room when they got back last night, a soft whine coming out her once she didn't find you. And now to come and reflect that you two were going to be separated all because of him, it's just an addition to the guilt that was already filling him up to the brim.

Tom pulled her close to his side lovingly, placing a soft kiss on her forehead as he whispered on her skin with every ounce of remorse,

"I'm so sorry princess."

***

As he sat on the steps of the front porch, Tom's heart and mind were running a hundred miles per second. Your packed up things were sat on his left while Tessa laid flat by his right. The sweet girl still had no clue why they were outside, just sitting and doing absolutely nothing. But Tom was in much need of some company, and she's always happy to give him that.

He'd sent you the text few minutes ago, saying that it was all done and ready to be picked up. It did cross his mind that he wasn't going to do it, that he'll just keep your stuff here so you won't be able to leave, but that's just downright cruel, selfish and disgusting, so he quickly shut the thought down. Now he was left to wait anxiously, fingers picking at the fabric of the stuffed animal that Tessa lent him earlier.

It wasn't long after when a familiar car pulled up into the driveway, his heart hammering even more at the sight of the vehicle. Tom stood from his place with a shaky breath, dread slowly seeping through his skin at the mere thought that it genuinely was happening. That you were really leaving and it wasn't just his mind playing tricks on him.

Tessa perked up when you and Harry came out of the vehicle, the pup not wasting any time as she bolted straight towards your direction. You crouched down to greet her with open arms, a small giggle escaping your lips when Tessa showered you with her kisses.

Tom's heart stuttered at the sight, a feeling of adoration spreading in his chest, but only lasting for a split second as it was quick to be replaced by one with grief. His heart felt like it was getting torn out of his chest at that thought that he might not be able to see this wholesome interaction ever again.

You walked over to the front porch with an unreadable look on your face, Tessa trailing right behind sporting a wide smile as she kept her gaze on you, tail at an all-time wag, still oblivious to what was happening.

"Hey," was all that Tom managed to get out, his heart warming a little at the sight of you, but ached the moment he noticed your puffy face, bloodshot eyes meeting his as you flashed him a faint smile. "I'm taking my car on the way back, so uhm, I think I left the keys inside," you explained, fingers nervously fiddling at the hem of your hoodie.

Tom frowned at that, but he already knew you weren't stepping inside anytime soon. You did ask him to pack your stuff up for that sole reason. To add to that, he also kind of expected that you were going to say that too, so he fished your car key from his pocket and handed it to you.

"I saw it laying on the counter so yeah," Tom trailed off, eyes still set on you as you took the key from him with a slight frown, and when he saw this he panicked. "Fuck, this looks I'm kicking you out or that I'm looking forward to you leaving and came prepared. I'm not. I figured that you would take your car too that's why I have the keys prepared, not because I want you to go, because I really don't want you to go," he rambled before he could even stop himself.

You stared at him for a full second or two, contemplating on what to say — or if you should even say anything at all — but with much thought, not wanting to say the wrong words, you opted on staying silent as you only nodded at him with a hum.

"I think this is everything," Tom cleared his throat to fill up the silence, cheeks all warm and red as he gestured towards your bags. "If I forgot something just let me know," he offered shyly.

You were about to move, to take your things and get this over and done with but before you could even do so, Tom spoke again. "And uhm, I don't know if you wanted to keep him but—" Tom revealed a very familiar stuffed panda from behind him, holding it out for you to take—or not—with a nervous smile.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the toy, frown unconsciously deepening as you took it from his hands.

It was the stuffed panda he won for you during your first date at a carnival. You remember it vividly, his grin wide and proud, eyebrows wriggling as he offered you it with a curtsy. Such a memorable night filled with hearty laughs, screams from terrifying rides, clouds of cotton candy and a handful of friendly competitions. The night then ended with him dropping you back home, and as cliché as it can be, with a sweet goodnight kiss at the front of your door, leaving you both smiling like idiots as he drove away.

After that night you had a feeling that there was something special about this boy. And months down the line, you realised you were right as he was quick to snatch your heart without much effort.

You'll always cherish that day, the simpler times as some would say, and the very panda you held in your hands now was a huge reminder of that. Was there any harm in keeping it? You're not sure. The memory does fill you up with genuine happiness, but then the pain follows soon after as you're reminded that it was once like that. The thought that the memories wouldn't be added with more, it hurts, deeply.

But as you looked at the toy again, you don't have the heart to throw it away. You don't have the strength to give it back either, so you held it closer to your chest as you looked back up to see Tom already staring at you in a certain way, a slight gloss coating his brown orbs.

That's when you knew he thought about the same thing too, remembered that same night, that same exact memory. You both held each other's gaze with such intensity, a slight hint of longing in each other's eyes. There were still so many words left unsaid, you both saw that. But neither of you spoke, neither of you dared to move a muscle.

The tension in the air only grew from there, almost turning awkward. That until Tessa nudged at your leg, making you break eye contact with the man in front of you to look at the pup with a curios yet sad smile. You were unsure if you're going to see her precious face again, and gosh it stings. She's your baby too and in no way do you want to leave her, but sometimes the right decisions requires a bit of sacrifice.

"Spend some time with her. Harry and I will take care of your stuff," Tom spoke as he gave you a reassuring smile, already knowing what's going through your head with just a simple look in your eyes.

You gave him a thankful nod, your own lips curving up and Tom felt his heart melt. It was small, didn't reach your ears by all means, but it's genuine, the warmest smile you've given him since everything that has happened.

With one last look at you, Tom took as much of the bags he can carry and made his way towards Harry, who was leaning on his car with his phone in hand. When the lad heard Tom approach, he smiled, helping him set the bags on the floor before pulling him in for a warm hug.

"You look like shit by the way," Harry joked as pulled away and went to open the boot of the car. Tom scoffed playfully at that. "Thanks bro, feel like it too."

Harry tilted his head at his older brother, hand coming up to give his shoulder a squeeze, making Tom meet his eyes. The brothers shared a smile, Harry not needing to say anything for Tom already knew what he was trying to say, that Harry is there for him, as he always is.

"How is she?" Tom asked softly, continuing the task at hand of loading your things in the car. "Still the same," Harry sighed sadly.

The older brother lowered his head with a deep exhale, just utter guilt filling him up from head to toe. His eyes were now staring at the last bag set on the ground, tears welling up again as reality starts to creep on him.

"Hey, she's a strong girl. She'll be okay. You both will be," Harry reassured and all Tom could do was nod. He wasn't sure if was going to be okay after all of this, his future blurry without you in it. But a brave face he can manage, taking in a deep breath as he placed your last a bag in the boot.

He looked back at the front porch to see you sat on the top step, both hands cupping Tessa's face as your lips moved. Tom could make out the glisten on your cheek, the light of the sun reflecting against it, chest heaving in a way that's had your hands slightly shake. He watched you pull Tessa in for a hug, your eyes screwed shut as you placed a loving kiss on top of her head, the pup giving you one big lick on the cheek once you pulled away, her way of returning the gesture.

Tom's heart took at big swing at the sight, a shaky breath coming out of him as he kept his eyes steady on his two favorite girls, bidding their goodbyes despite not wanting to, but having no choice because of the horrible things that he's done.

He caught his sniffle with a clear of his throat, quickly wiping away the tear that managed to slip with the back of his hand as you stood from your place and made your way towards them. Tessa was following you still, demeanor now different as she looked at your figure with a tilt of her head, almost with a frown.

She was definitely still a bit confused, but Tom has a feeling that she knows what was going to happen, and he will definitely have to hold onto her when you... when you leave.

"Everything ready?" you asked, voice a bit hoarse with the obvious tear lines on your cheek but neither boys said anything about it. "Yeah, good to go," Harry answered when his brother stayed quiet. Tom's eyes elsewhere just so he won't become a balling mess yet again.

"Okay, uhm thanks Tom." His head shot up at the mention of his name, flashing you a forced smile with a curt nod to match.

He tried keep at it his silence as he watched you walk to your car, just knowing his emotions would betray him the moment he opens his mouth. Plus, he genuinely doesn't want to make things harder for you again for putting more things in your head to think about. But the moment you opened the door to your car, he couldn't stop himself, he knew he needed to say something.

"Y/N wait—" Tom called out, walking closer towards you, though when you turned back around to face him, he hesitated. He contemplated if it was worth a shot, if he should at least try and ask. But when he took in your frown up to your glossy eyes, the glow and joy on your skin all faded, he inhaled a sharp breath.

"Take care of yourself," said Tom instead, not the same words that were stuck on the tip of his tongue, not the words that his brain wanted to scream into the open.

"You too," you mumbled, quickly getting inside your car, making Tom miss the expression that crossed your face. The car door slamming shut followed by the silent roar of the engine, drowned out the shaky breath you let out, eyes never meeting his again.

There was a simple question not asked. A question that could make things turn around, make this day have a better outcome, but Tom didn't dare to spit it out. He held himself back thinking that it was for the best.

He crouched down to take a strong hold of Tessa's collar as the two cars backed out of the driveway. The pups heartbreaking whines filled Tom's ears, the sound making his tears run down his cheeks, unable to keep them at bay any longer.

There were still words were left unsaid, but there was nothing more he can do with them now as Tom watched your car disappear down the street, eyes steady on the vehicle until the only thing left to see was the skid marks of the tires of your car on the pavement, a reminder that you were once here but may never return again.

***

A week has passed and Tom wasn't feeling any better. If anything, his life just turned shittier with each day gone without you in it.

The house was a complete mess, more so his bedroom with all the crap that's lying around. Said crap ranging from bottles of alcohol – some empty, some half-full – the broken glasses he has yet to pick up, dirty and clean clothes mixed up on the floor, up to the random food wrappers that decorated the area.

Hell, he hasn't even taken a shower in days, that's the state he was in right now. Tom also had to ask his mum to pick Tessa up a couple days ago, given the fact that he can't even take care of himself. Plus, he didn't want to stress the poor girl with him constantly being down in the dumps and more.

Long story short, he was a broken mess, both physically and emotionally. And the light at the end of the tunnel seems too far away where Tom doesn't even believe if it's there to begin with.

But despite wanting to rot in bed for maybe another week or two, to drown in his self-pity basically, he received a few emails that were too important for him to simply shove aside.

So, an hour-long, hot shower and a fresh set of clothes later — and a few pain relievers to help with his headache — Tom made his way outside his room only to look for his computer. Once he found it just on top of the coffee table, he held it in his hands and went straight back to the bedroom.

He couldn't bear to stay outside with the sun shining all bright, especially with it accompanied with the clear blue sky. The beautiful day just makes him feel bad about everything, makes him feel worse about himself. Tom felt more comfortable staying inside the bedroom where the curtains were all closed, the space dark and gloomy to match his mood.

Plopping back down on the bed with his back resting against the headboard, he placed the computer on his lap, taking in a tired breath before turning it on. Much to his surprise, he stared right at a photo of Tessa and him, confusion filling him up at the sight of the lock screen because that wasn't what he set it as. His lock screen was of you and Tessa, not him.

Sure enough when he tilted the laptop up, there he saw your initials written on the bottom surface. A frown made its way onto his lips as he realised that he might have given you his computer instead.

You two have the same computer and the only way to tell which one was who's without seeing the contents, was by the initials on the bottom. And just as cheesy as it can get, you were the one who wrote his initials while he wrote yours. Kind of like an autograph, hence why Tom was staring right at his handwriting, as if it wasn't obvious enough that this was in fact your computer.

At the time you both thought it was just cute and silly, a simple gesture for couples in love. Never did it cross Tom's mind that day that looking at it would bring hurt. But now it does, the gesture turned into remembrance, a mere memory of what it used to be.

He was a mess when he packed your things up. It wasn't unlikely that he missed to check which computer he gave to you. But what confused him was that a week has passed yet you hadn't contacted him, nor did you ask the twins to fetch it for you if you still can't bear to see him again.

It could've been that you haven't noticed yet or could've been something else. Tom has no way of knowing as he hasn't spoken to you since. He does know you're still staying at the twins' house courtesy to Harry, but that's about it.

He was about to reach for his phone to contact said lad but he accidentally pressed on the keys, screen now showing your desktop. Tom frowned with a shaky breath, a picture of you two on the beach glaring right at him. But what caught Tom's attention more was a certain folder, the name too long that he had to click it to show the rest.

B-ideas (If by any chance you're Tom please do not open this folder you're gonna break my heart if you do bub)

That only perked his curiosity even more. And given that he's already broke your heart due to something far worse, he double-clicked it to open. What more could he lose?

Tom felt a sharp stab at his chest as he scrolled through countless amounts of photos of different kinds of cakes, certain venues, and lovely decorations.

B-ideas... Birthday ideas.

He screwed his eyes shut, hand going up to pinch the bridge in utter frustration. First it was your relationship with Tessa, even his family for that matter, and now his birthday. What else did he ruin? Well, aside from the obvious anyway. How many times will he have to be reminded about all the things that are affected due to his mistake? Not enough apparently.

You always loved to plan his birthdays for him. He adored how you always get so excited to ask him a few things or when you keep it a secret as much as possible for it to be a surprise. You've made him the happiest boy every birthday. You make him feel even more special and he was glad to have you by his side each time. But now, he's ruined it by a long shot and his birthdays will never be the same.

As he reached the bottom, Tom found another folder within the folder named: For Slideshow (Gift)

Tom dared to open it as well, the pain in his heart only magnifying at the sight of old photos and videos of you and him. There were a few from all around the world — during the whole press tour to be specific — but most of it was just here in London or right at this very home.

You always went the sentimental route when it comes to his gifts. 'You can buy anything you want now,' as you've said. And despite him telling you that he won't care where you got it from – whether it from Tesco's or whatever – as long as you're the one giving it, then he will cherish that gift with all his heart. But of course, you just had to go the extra mile by making sure it was handmade by you. Whether it's a handwritten letter, a collage, or whatever cute thing it may be, you have never failed to make him emotional with each one, a tear or two shed every birthday.

It looked like you were going for a video compilation this year judging by the name of the folder and the contents of said folder—well, what you were supposed to do but it's not happening now, is it?

It was such a trip down memory lane, just photos upon videos, mostly candid, some intentional jump-scares and a few cheesy yet funny ones sprinkled here and there. The one video that caught his eye first though was the one where it had you and him kissing on the thumbnail.

Tom recognized it right off the bat. He remembers that day clearly to this moment. It was from the set where Harry filmed Roses for Lily, where you and Tom helped with all the little things. And his assumption was proven right when he pressed play...

"And that's a wrap everyone!" Cheers erupted around the field followed by applause as Sam and Sophie took a playful bow.

"Connect it to the speaker and play it on my cue," Tom whispered against Harry's ear, confusion crossing the younger lad's face before Tom jerked his head towards you. Harry shook his head at his brother but took his phone anyway, getting so used to his cheesy ass antics.

This wasn't your greatest week regarding work and school, even more so today. So, Tom thought head lift your spirits up in the cheesiest yet sweet way he can managed.

You were talking with Nikki when Tom suddenly came up to the both of you with an expression that you didn't quite read, hands behind his back as he stood with immense posture.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Oh no, what are you up to?" you asked suspiciously.

"Will you do me the honour of granting me this dance mi lady?" Tom offered his hand with a curtsy, voice sporting the most posh accent he can muster with a cheeky smile plastered on those pink lips.

You shook your head with laughter at your boy. You turned to look at the woman who you were having a conversation with, only to see her give you two thumbs up with a wide smile, and with that, your gaze landed back on Tom sporting a smile of your own.

"Pleasure is all mine kind sir." You mimicked his accent and took his hand, fits of giggles coming out of you as Tom dragged you towards the front of the bench, the view of the field endless behind you.

He interlaced his fingers with yours as his other hand took home on your waist while yours rested on his shoulder, just like a proper ballroom dance. "We don't even have music you dork," you pointed out the obvious, to which Tom only grinned all proud.

"Says who?" He shot Harry a nod and not long after the soft tune of 'The Way You Look Tonight' by Frank Sinatra filled your ears.

You threw your head back as you let out a loud yet hearty laugh. "You're a huge cheese ball aren't you?" you teased.

"Oh please, you love it," Tom flashed you a knowing smirk as he then starts to swing to the tempo of the music. He guided you with gently care as he spins you out and then pulls you back in again, his background in dancing making it easy for him to lead the dance.

And you always admire this talent of his, adored it with all your heart as you break out to random dances – may it be silly or slow – around the house whenever to whatever music. It was not new to you so you can easily follow his rhythm having dance with him before. Plus, the steps were simple enough for you to catch. And having known each other for a long while, it was easy for the two of you to move in sync.

But then he started to sing, and that caught you off guard.

"Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm; and your cheeks so soft; there is nothing for me but to love you; and the way you look tonight."

You can't stop your grin from growing at his sweet voice, heart warm as you stared right into those beautiful brown orbs. Tom doesn't sing much often, not seriously anyway. But when he does, it makes your heart melt ten times over and then some, because the boy can definitely sing.

"Am I wooing you darling?" Tom cooed with a wriggle of his eyebrows, earning yet another laugh from you. And with him being all cheeky with his timing, you didn't get to respond as he continued to sing,

"And that laugh that wrinkles your nose; Touches my foolish heart," Tom sang with a cheeky wink, the smile on your lips ever growing that your cheeks we're starting to hurt, but you could care less.

"Lovely, never, never change; keep that breathless charm; won't you please arrange it? 'Cause I love you; just the way you look tonight,"

He kept singing, not for but to you, dedicating each word, meaning each note that the smile on your lips was impossible to wipe off. Not to mention the simple yet lovely dance, bodies swaying sweetly to the music, it was just like a scene from a movie.

Tom twirled you around courteously, pulling you back closer to him that had both your arms resting over his shoulders. He wrapped his own arms around your form, noses delicately touching as you two mirrored each other's eyes, nothing but the look of love coating them.

And when you nudged his nose adorably, Tom chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling, leaning closer until his lips captured yours in a charming kiss. A kiss so blissful that your hearts were filled with nothing but warmth, spreading from head to toe as you kept dancing to the slowly fading music.

Both of you were unaware that Harry recorded the whole thing, making the little dance, the sweet gesture as pure and raw as it can be. Just two couples in love, cherishing each other's company, adoring one another with everything that they have...

Tom lets out a strangled breath as the video stops, trembling fingers hovering over the space bar as he stared at the still of you, warmly wrapped in his arms, absolutely content, delighted and purely in love.

Next thing he knew, Tom found himself watching videos upon videos of you and him, endless clips that showed just how happy you two were, how happy you made him. Each video showed him the way you use to glow, smile bright as day while your eyes were filled with nothing but pure adoration, a blissful expression on your face and oh how stunning it looks on you. Pure happiness suited you so much and Tom took that away. He took away your shine; he snuffed out that radiance you always bring whenever you're in the room.

He only decided to stop when Tom felt his chest tighten harshly, breath turning uneven as his eyes started to burn. He was about to close the laptop, to set it aside and give himself a breather, but then he saw another one with a thumbnail that has only you in it. Despite being too emotional, despite deciding that the torture was enough, his curiosity was stronger. So, he played it...

"...right, is this recording? Yup, it is, okay."

You sat back on the chair after you adjusted the camera – which Harry kindly let you borrow – on the little desk you had in yours and Tom's shared bedroom. "It's a little too early to make a video message since your birthday is months away but I've got nothing better to do so," you trailed off, adjusting your hair before sitting up and smiling at the lens.

"To the man of my dreams, my knight in shining armour, to my handsome prince," you paused with a scrunched of your nose. "Oh gosh too cheesy. Okay, reel it back, whew, okay, Thomas, spider-boy—well, more like spider-baby..." You let out a laugh at that, shaking your head at yourself before taking in a deep breath and looking back straight at the camera.

"To the absolute love of my life, Tom, happy birthday. Oh now, where do I start? Well, I can start with how proud I am of you. The fact that you've achieved so much in so little time? I couldn't be any prouder. You're the most hardworking man I know, it's not really a surprise how you got to where you are today. But despite all the accolades, the awards you've won — and soon to win — there's always one award, well two actually that's far more important than the rest. First one is you-being-such-an-incredible-human award. You, Tom have the kindest most compassionate heart I've ever had the pleasure of seeing. I could list so many great things but then we'd be here all day, just ask me it later and I'll send it to you in post," you giggled. "But trust when I say that you are a true hero, even without the mask."

"And well, the second award, oh gosh, it's the best-boyfriend award. Forgive my cheesiness — although you do like it — but it is in fact true. You, Thomas, you make me the happiest girl ever. I—oh no here comes the water works," you joked, fanning your eyes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. And when you felt like you can hold it together, you continued,

"I feel so lucky to have you in my life. You've always been there for me through the good, the bad and the ugly. I don't think I could've made it pass things without you Tom and for that thank you. Thank you for sticking with me through thick and thin. For being my shoulder to cry on when I really need one, for being such a great listener and for being my rock. Thank you for helping me through the hardest times bub," you paused to take a deep breath, eyes glossy but with a proud smile on your lips nonetheless.

"...granted our relationship isn't perfect, we've had our disagreements and petty fights but I wouldn't trade it for anything else. I wouldn't trade you for the world, Tom. I am happy to be with you, so content with what we have. We've laughed together, cried together, we've grown together, and as promised, we're going to be there for each other, always." you let out a soft giggle to try and clear the lump in your throat, blinking rapidly to keep it in, though it already obvious in your eyes that you weren't going to be successful.

"And lastly... I love you so much Tom. My heart could literally exploded with just how much, and I just want you to know that whatever it takes, whatever challenge life will hurl at us, whatever happens in the future, I will always, truly, with all that I am, lov—"

"Darling? Where are you?" Tom's voiced echoed down the hallway, halting your words as you turned your head towards the door. With a sweet laugh, you look back to the camera. "You and your impeccable timing Thomas."

You quickly wiped the tears that managed to escape your eyes, making sure you don't look suspicious to not ruin the plans of surprise.

"Sweetheart?" Tom called out again.

"Bedroom babe!" you answered, taking in deep breaths before reaching for the camera. "I'll finish this later I guess. I'll see you—well in a couple seconds but future you sometime soon, love you!"

And with a blow of a kiss, you turned the camera off...

The whole bedroom turned eerily quiet as the screen turned pitch black. Almost quiet aside from the soft tap, tap, tap – the sound of Tom's tears hitting the computer keys, one after the other.

Tom stifled out a whimper as he screwed his eyes shut, hand coming up to tug at his hair in anger, sorrow, regret, hurt. You were good to him, you were everything to him and more. How could he waste that? He lost someone so rare, someone who's out of this world from beauty to heart. No one could ever replace you, nobody will ever come close to how much of an amazing person you are, how special and lucky you made him feel.

He had everything, and he threw that away.

As he tried to catch his breath, he reached for his phone, dialing the number of the only person who'd give him comfort but without all the bullshit.

"Hey Harrison, I know you’re probably still disappointed with me right now too but I just really need someone to talk to..."

***

"...and then I found this folder of hers that has all these ideas for my birthday. It even had old photos and videos of us but what struck me the most was her video message and I just—" Tom stopped to catch his breath, wiping away the tears on his face before he looked up a Harrison with a soft sob, "I ruined so much."

"You did," the lad answered bluntly, no sugar coating, no bullshitting. He wasn't going to say the words that his friend wanted to hear, if he kept doing that then how will he learn?

Tom buried his face in his hand in shame, sniffing loudly before lifting his head up again, face all puffy as he met his best friend's eyes with his bloodshot ones. "I miss her so much Haz, and I really want to fix things between us, to have her back. But I don't have a chance anymore."

Harrison frowned at that. He knows the full scope of the situation, but he doesn't recall you saying those exact words, well, as what Tom has explained to him anyway. "Did she say you don't have a chance anymore or did you just put words into her mouth?"

You didn't. You haven't told him those exact words, but your actions were an enough sign right? Tom leaned back on the couch, hand running through his hair with an exasperated sigh. "She told me to pack up her things, I think that's a clear message that it's over," he grumbled.

Harrison shook his head at his friend disapprovingly, "Tom, she has been fighting for your relationship for more than a month and you're already giving up in a week? After what you've done, I think you need to fight harder than that mate. Put more effort in, you owe at least that to her."

Tom frowned at his words, guilt growing more intense as the gears started to turn in his head. Did he really give up that easily? Could he have done so much better? If he asked you to sta—

But then the nagging voice was quick to shut down his questions. A certain reason why he feels like he can do nothing about it grew louder in his mind, said reason he felt the need to speak out loud.

"She deserves someone better than me Haz. I broke her heart and I—" Tom rubbed the nape of his neck. "I don't think I deserve another chance," he concluded in defeat.

Harrison sighed, placing a comforting hand on Tom's shoulder before he began. "Okay look, there are only two paths you can choose regarding this. Path one, you can mop around, drown in your pity party and just give up with everything like a fucking wuss. Or path two, you can get off your ass, thrive to be better, right your wrongs and be the man that she deserves. You have to fight for her if you truly want her back Tom. It's just a matter of choice," Harrison finished as he shot him a knowing look.

"I think you've been so busy telling yourself that everything is too late, but what if it's not yet? You think it's too late, but is it actually too late for her? What if she just needs more persuasion? What if she just needs a proper reassurance that you're going to make things right? For you to truly show her that you do in fact still love her? All I'm saying here Tom is that you won't know the answer to these questions unless you ask them, unless you give them a try. We don't get what we want easily, you have to work hard for it." Harrison added.

Tom stared at his best friend in pure shock and amusement given that he's never heard him sound so wise with advise before. They usually do stupid shit together, and when it comes to relationships, they both can be as equally as clueless.

But nevertheless, Tom felt like his eyes got opened, a new perspective settling in his mind and he will be forever grateful at Harrison for that.

"Fuck you're right." Tom didn't waste any more time as he got up from his place and went to go get his keys. Harrison sat there bewildered, calling out to Tom again when he saw him go towards the front door, "Where are you going?"

Tom turned to his friend with a small yet hopeful smile, the most he's felt in a while, "I'm getting her back."

***

Sam looked at his brother in complete surprise once he pulled the door open, "Tom what are yo—" the lad cut himself off once he saw Tom's face, clear in his expression who he was looking for.

"She didn't tell you," the twin muttered with a frown, his sudden change in demeanor making Tom worry. "Didn't tell me what Sam?" he asked cautiously. Tom thought he already prepared for the worst, thought that he can handle any sort of rejection, but when his brother spoke again, all the color drained out his whole body.

"Harry drove her to Heathrow thirty minutes ago."

It took a few seconds for Sam's statement to finally sink in. And when it did, Tom cursed as he quickly turned on his heel and ran, heart pounding, head spinning.

"Tom, wait!"

Sam didn't get a chance to stop him as he was already back inside his car, engine roaring as he veered into the road at top speed. He was driving dangerously, Tom was aware of that, but he can't let you step even a toe in that plane. If he does, then it will really be too late.

***

"Come on Harry, pick up, pick up, come on lad pick u—Harry! Which terminal?" Tom asked in haste, fingers drumming against the wheel impatiently.

"Huh? Terminal?"

"Bro, I beg, just tell me which terminal you dropped her off, please." Tom heard Harry sigh on the other line, his anxiousness growing with each silent second, and when his brother gave him the information, he felt the tears prick at the back of his eyes.

"Terminal 2... She's off to Abu Dhabi."

***

Tom's lungs were gasping for air, both from him running as fast as he can, and from the fear that was overwhelming him to every bone. Fear that he might not catch you on time.

The crowded airport wasn't helping his anxious state at all, his eyes quick to dart around as he tries his best to look for you. He asked around, looking like a lunatic as he shows your picture to random strangers. He even asked at the desk just to narrow where you could've gone, to make it easier to find you in this huge haystack. And when he hadn't had much luck, Tom was quick to assume that you already got pass security.

It may had been dumb, but everything he's done at this point has been dumb, what's the worst thing that could happen if he tried to get pass the guards?

But before he could even attempt and sneak his way in, a large, tall man blocked his way. "Boarding pass?"

Tom shook his head, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, mind an utter mess that it was hard for him to think straight, "I-I don't have... it's an emergency please I–"

"Sir, you're not allowed inside if you don't have a ticket," the security reprimanded, hand held up as he stops Tom's chances of slipping by. He's an idiot really, thinking that he can talk his way through, but he tried it anyway, begged in desperation just so he can find you before you get on that plane. "Please just let me through, it will be quick, I just need to—"

"Tom?"

Never had he ever turned around so quick in his life, relief washing over him once he saw you standing there, bottle of water with a receipt in hand, confusion written all over your face at the sight of him.

Tom just ran straight towards you, his burly body almost knocking you out of balance as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, arms engulfing you tightly, like he's holding onto you for dear life. Tom's whole body shaking as he balled his eyes out, a stuttering mess when he tried to speak to say the least.

"N-no, p-please don't leave me, I-I can't—I can't do this without you, p-please don't leave," Tom sobbed against your skin, his hold around you vise-like but just enough for it not to hurt. He's just downright scared to loosen his grip for you might vanish into thin air if he does.

You tried to pull him off of you but a useless effort as he is much stronger than you. And the harder you try, the firmer his grip on you becomes, muttering his protest over and over of him not wanting to let go. You sighed, "Tom, look at me, bub..."

Tom lets out a whimper at the nickname, pulling away just slightly until he was able to rest his forehead against yours, his warm tears dropping on your cheek and your heart stung at the feeling.

"Breathe for me," you whispered, cupping his face with both hands. Your thumb caressed his cheek tenderly, wiping away the tears that ran down them as much as you could. Tom did as told, attempting to steady his breathing, the warmth in your eyes helping him by a mile.

When he finally got a hold of himself, he took one deep breath before speaking. "I should've asked you before you could even leave the house, should've chased after you. I should've fought harder for you. I wanted to ask you this before you got into your car and I didn't, which was a mistake," he trailed off, clearing out his throat as he gave you a gentle squeeze.

"I should've at least tried and asked you stay. I hope it's not too late but now I'm asking, begging you to stay. I want you to stay with me, please?" Tom pleaded, ready to be on his knees but you stopped him, he didn't need to be. Your fingers traced his jaw delicately, heart aching at the sight of broken man in front of you, but you've already made a decision. It was hard sticking to it now with him here, but you just had to remind yourself that this was for your own sake. You've already thought this through and it was final.

"I—I can't," you paused as the number of your flight echoed through the speakers. You turned back to Tom with a soft whisper, "You know I can't."

"At least you could've said goodbye?" he squeaked, voice breaking at the fact that your mind was already set, and when that happens, even before your worlds got flipped upside-down, it takes so much to change it.

"I couldn't, because I know for a fact if given the time, you might actually change my mind. Hell, just seeing you right now, it's already making me doubt my decision. But I need this Tom, I need to do this for myself. I've realized that my world revolved too much around you, and I don't regret it at all but I need to find my own path, grow as my own person."

Tom nodded dejectedly, eyes shut tightly because he knows he would have to let you go in a couple minutes. He needs more time, he wants more time with you. But when he heard your flight getting called again, Tom knew there was not much he can do about it.

"But when are you coming back?" he asked, voice frail but full of dread. And Tom felt his heart shatter some more when you looked away, his frown deep and sorrowful as he muttered, "You're not planning to."

You shook your head with a close of your eyes. "No. I am... I just don't know when," and it was true. You were going away for quite some time but you have a life here in London as well. It would be too hard to stay away. But as of now, you don't think you'll be back anytime soon.

As you open your eyes to look at those brown orbs again, you knew he understood.

He always does. Tom is quick at that when it comes to you. Not needing a whole lot of words to know what you mean, one look in the eyes will suffice. Tom couldn't say much more either, so he lets his action speak for itself instead.

He pressed his lips against yours, the gesture catching you off-guard but only for a split second as you melted in his arms not long after. Tears slipped pass your eyes at the feeling, the feeling of his lips you've missed dearly, and Tom was the same. He missed how your lips fit perfectly with his, he missed how warm it feels, tender and soft.

It was a bittersweet kiss with the sense of goodbye laced in it, but it was beautiful nonetheless, special in a way as two hearts melt into one once more. Neither of you wanted to pull away. You just wanted to be stuck in the moment on repeat, destroy the buttons so that it plays on a never-ending loop. But when you heard your name through the speakers, you had no choice but to pull away.

As you stared into each other's eyes, both of you knew there was one more thing left to say, and as you did, as you spoke with nothing but sincerity, your hearts were filled with nothing but pure—

"I love you Y/N."

"And I love you Tom."

And with that he lets you go, hands going limp at his sides as he watches you gather your things and walk towards security. Before you could disappear out of sight, you spared him one last look over your shoulder, a smile written on your lips, one that was genuine, filled with adoration and... love.

It was a look that would always be burned in Tom's memory, but hopefully it won't be the last. Hopefully, with every choice made from here on out, if it's destined, then you'll find your way back to each other.

-:-:-:-:-

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[moondustis]

perfect crime (m)

pairing: jung jaehyun + reader / seo johnny + reader genre: smut, angst word count: 6,8k summary:  There’s two rules when you start a no-strings kind of relationship: 1. Don’t fall in love and 2. Don’t make it into something bigger than it is. And well, let’s just say you were not the best at following rules. song recs: perfect crime - tinashe / triggered - jhené aiko / break my heart - dua lipa 

Here’s the thing, you and Jung Jaehyun are not dating.

It’s actually far from that. The two of you just happened to hook up one night, then that became another night and now his number on your phone is what you call when you need a little body heat sometimes. So there, you both are just friends with benefits, if you will. Maybe not even friends, acquaintances with benefits would be a better way to describe it.

And here’s another thing. Maybe, just maybe. Like really, hypothetically speaking, you are falling in love with Jaehyun. Which is the number one rule not to break when you get involved in things like that, but it seems like your brain doesn’t work very well when Jaehyun is fucking you and it just mistakes his caring way of eating you out with something else.

But it’s fine, you’re a big girl, who knows how to deal and conceal your big girl feelings. It’s not like you’re going to do something drastic like confess to him or dye your hair pink at 3AM while listening to Beyonce sing about her cheating husband and feel like you too have been cheated.

It’s fine.

☾

“Your hair looks good like this.” Jaehyun whispers on your ear, sending shivers all over your body. “Pink suits you.”

Weird thing to say when he’s balls deep inside of you, but your heart and pussy seem to enjoy it because it makes you clench around him. “Oh.” You dumbly say, fingers gripping the sheets on his bed as he gives you a nice thrust. “T-Thanks.”

He’s good at this, like really good. And it helps that he has the biggest cock you had ever seen. He moves his hips faster, and the sounds of skin slapping makes your head spin. “Fuck. You feel so good, baby. Taking me so well.” His voice is raspy as he nuzzles at your jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses all over it.

“Yes — Yes. Please” You pant as his hands move down your sides, one just lingering on your chest. “Feel so full.”

He likes when you say shit like that because he knows how big he is. Has asked you to say it many times before. “Yeah?” One hand moves down, pressing at your navel and he gives you an insane look. “Feel me here? On your tummy?”

You nod, feeling so close to your high and it just gets better when he presses his thumb to your clit, circling fast on it. He seems close too, by the way his thrusts are getting erratic.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m gonna cum.” He moans and you raise your hips, chasing your own release. You’re so close, so close. Almost there. “Fuck, Yerim.”

It’s like a bucket of cold water has been dropped on you. You watch as Jaehyun comes inside the condom, his eyes shutting closing and lips parting. You just stand there, frozen and feeling extremely small.

“What the fuck.” You whisper, slowly getting out of the shock of what just happened. “What the FUCK?”

“What?” He asks just as he pulls out of you, pulling his underwear up like he has no clue that he just said someone else’s name while fucking you.

You get up, now angry with the blood in your system just starting to boil. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You search for your underwear on the floor, pulling it up, followed by your pants. “Who the fuck is Yerim?”

“What the fuck are you - Oh.” He finally realizes what he’s done, giving you a pathetic look that makes you livid. “Shit. I’m sorr-“

“Yeah, shit.” You roll your eyes. Is he dumb? Does he really think this is something a simple sorry can fix? You put on your shirt and move to grab your purse and keys. “This — Whatever this is — It’s over now.

He finally takes action, getting up from the bed and trying to touch you but you walk away. “Wait —“

“You’re an asshole, you know that? I don’t care that you are fucking other people.” Yes, you do. “But saying their name while you’re fucking me is a bit too much.”

He looks like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as he looks for the right words to say.

“Don’t fucking call me again.” Is the last thing you say before you are slamming the door shut.

Maybe this time you’ll just shave off your head completely.

☾

You don’t actually end up shaving your head. In fact, you get over the whole thing pretty fast. And Jaehyun, being such a nice guy, helps by not calling you even once just as you asked him to. Probably because he was too busy fucking Yerim, or whatever her name was.

Ok, maybe you weren’t that over it yet, but you were getting there.

“Aaaaargh.” You grunt out of nowhere, throwing yourself in the couch both your roommates are lounging around. Anne, a girl you had met on your first year of college and instantly clicked with, looks at you like you are crazy.

“Can you stop doing that? It’s the third time today you just make an weird noise out of nowhere.” She points out and Jisoo, the other roommate and biggest scorpio you had ever met, hums in agreement.

Your whine is childish and you would feel bad for bothering your friends, but right now what you need is for them to feel bad for you. “Please have some respect for my suffering. Your fake sniffles does nothing to them. “I just really need someone to dick me down, okay? Or else I’ll go crazy.”

“Dickpression.” Jisoo says and you almost laugh. She was right. “You need to stop being dramatic, for starters.”

“Why don’t you just call Jaehyun or whatever his name was?” Anne says and you gasp at the same time Jisoo lets out a hiss. Anne wasn't present when you had went on a little spiral about how he was the worst guy in the planet and how you never wanted anything to do with him ever again.

“Oh my god, Anne! Are you dumb?” A great friend, Jisoo was. “He cheated on her, let’s not say his name in our sacred space ever again.”

“He didn’t cheat on me.” It sure felt like it to you but you knew it was far from the reality. You weren’t dating or anything, he just happened to make a mistake that broke your heart. Things like this happened.

“Girl, he said someone else’s name while fucking you.” Jisoo says. “That’s cheating to me.”

You just shrug, not really wanting to have this conversation anymore. Just after the whole thing had happened, you had took some time to do some internal thinking and realized that your feelings for Jaehyun were stupid and you should just move on already. Easier said than done, of course. But so far you hadn’t cried once and you sure didn’t want to because your friends were validating your feelings.

“Well, whatever. That’s the past now.” That earns you a little ‘yes, girl’ from your friends. “We need to focus on my present situation and how I’m going to go crazy if I don’t get some action.”

You really were being dramatic. It had only been what, two weeks or so, and you and your roommates knew well enough that you had gone longer than that without it. You were not horny but you were bored, and that was dangerous enough by itself. But you were also heartbroken and a little thirsty for revenge, so that was just key for making bad decisions.

Anne bites on her nail, forehead a little creased as if she's in deep thought. That probably won't go well. “I think that what you really need is not dick. What you need is to go out with your friends and have some fun. ” She starts and you raise one eyebrow at her. “Get a little crazy, ya know? Put on a slutty dress and maybe flash your ass a bit in a sketchy club with your girlfriends.” 

She says the whole thing in a weird voice, making you laugh. “What’s this, some sort of intervention?” 

Jisoo laughs too, throwing a pillow at Anne. “Please don't start going on about how friends are more important than sex.” 

“First of all, they are. Gals before balls, or whatever.” She laughs at her own jokes. “But, for real. We could really go out. And if you still want some action I can hook you up with someone.”

Now that could go very wrong. Your past experiences with any of Anne’s friends had been awful, for starters. She just had some weird dudes on her friend circle and you weren't trying to get with a weird guy with a foot fetish again. “Like who?” You ask, skeptically. 

Jisoo watches the whole conversation, amusement on her face like she’s watching a soap opera. “I don't know, man.” Anne throws her hands around. “Johnny is a nice guy, mayb-”

“Oh my god, no fucking way.” You exclaim just as Jisoo jumps in excitement and yells her agreement. 

“That would be so good.” She says and you get a pillow to muffle your screams. 

“Why? What am I missing?” Anne asks.

“Johnny is literally Jae -- He’s the cheater’s best friend. That’s such a good idea.” That makes Anne clap excitedly like a child and you sigh loudly. 

“Is it? Is it really a good idea? Like, I’m sure I would be a really bad person if I used that poor guy like that.” You really would. Things were not messy right now but they sure would be if you started involving people that had nothing to do with it into the situation. On the other hand, you really would like to make Jaehyun at least a little bit upset.

You eye Anne as she grabs her phone and starts typing at ii suspiciously. “It wouldn’t, babe. You’ll just go to a party with a nice guy, have some fun and maybe make out with him a bit.” Jisoo says, moving closer to you to rub your arm affectionately. If you hadn't mentioned before, she was a really good friend. “Besides, you don’t have to do anything with him if you don’t absolutely want to. And if you do, then it will be for yourself not because you want to make some guy jealous.” 

She made a point. “And I just texted Johnny and he said he’s down for it, so there’s no going back now.” Anne deadpans and you let out a mini scream. 

“What the fuck, are you crazy? What did you say to him?” Snatching the phone out of her hand, you read the conversation she just had with him.

Anne: 

hey johnny

what’s up?

Johnny (from Chemistry 101):

heyyy 

nothing much wbu?

this text was a lil unexpected lmao

Anne: 

i know lol sorry

i just wanted to talk to you abt something

theres this friend of mine, ___. 

shes really down lately and i just want her to have some fun, u know?

You playfully punch her in the arm. “You asshole, I’m not down. You made me sound sad and desperate.”

“You were literally screaming about dick not ten minutes ago.”

You scoff. “Whatever.”

Anne: 

so i was wondering if you would like to meet her and take her out this weekend

i heard lee taeyong is throwing a party

Johnny (from Chemistry 101): 

okay...

that really came out of nowhere lol

Anne: 

lol ik 

but i promise you shes really cool

heres a picture for reference ;)

*attached picture*

Your friend was really selling you out like that. And that wasn't even a good picture. 

Johnny (from Chemistry 101): 

oooh damn

lmao

ok, give me her number :) 

“That was awful.” You hand her the phone back, throwing yourself back onto the couch with a deep whine. How would you even face this poor dude, you had no clue. Maybe you were a little fucked. 

“Stop being ungrateful, I just got you a hot date.” Anne says getting up and high fiving Jisoo. “Now who wants to order some pizza rolls?” 

What can you do but raise your hand in defeat. 

☾

When friday comes all you want to do is hide yourself inside your room and never come out again. 

Johnny had texted you that same day and, for your complete agony, he was really nice. Like, really nice. The type of people that within a week of texting already made you comfortable enough to share an inside joke with. And that would be great, amazing, fantastic, because you had a date with this man that was funny, nice and looked extremely hot. And was probably packing, but that’s beside the point. That would all be great if you didn’t feel like complete shit for using him. 

And yes, ok, you weren't exactly using him. Maybe just a little. But it still made you feel bad. 

But you were a big girl, you could do this even if you had to listen to your girl power playlist while you put on your ‘slutty dress’ and applied gemstones to the end of your liner, like you were about to star in Euphoria or some shit. And your friends hype you up, giving you that extra confidence you were lacking so that when you walk out the house you feel like you truly are the hot girl Megan Thee Stallion was talking about. 

Well, that lasts for about 20 minutes, which was the duration of the drive to Taeyong’s house. You go literally weak in the knees when you see Johnny standing outside the house where you both agreed to meet up. 

“I can’t do this.” You say because he looks so good, even looking down at his phone to entertain himself while you didn't arrive. And he was so tall, like probably a good head taller than you and if that wasn't the hottest thing you didn't know what it was.  

“Yes, you can.” Anne says, patting your butt and giving you a sweet smile. “Now go get him and make that bitch pay.” 

So you go, legs shaking a bit when Johnny gives you a big smile as he spots you. How long would it take for you to fuck this up, you wonder.

He hugs you like you were long time friends when you come close enough and you almost sigh from how good he smells. “You look good.” He compliments and you almost melt, head going a bit blank when you feel his hand on your waist. 

“Oh, thank you.” The laugh you let out could only be described as awkward but he doesn't seem to notice. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” That was good. Smooth, carefree even. You let him lead you inside the party, hand still in your lower back as he basically towers over you. 

You feel overwhelmed the moment you step inside the house. There’s not many people, but enough to make it feel like the place is almost too crowded and the song playing is so loud that you cringe. You run your eyes through the room and when you spot the kitchen you drag Johnny by the hand, wanting to get there as fast as possible. You don't notice you haven't even thought about Jaehyun for that short amount of time. 

“Let’s get drunk!” You exclaim when you both enter the kitchen and that makes Johnny laugh.

“Alright.” You feel his eyes on the back of your head as you pour the two of you not one, not two, but three shots of tequila each. “Not wasting any time are you?”

“Nope.” You emphasize the ‘p’, dipping your hand in the salt bowl and licking it before you offer the bowl for him and he does the same. His eyes don't leave yours as he licks the white substance and that makes you nervous for some reason. You shake the thoughts by grabbing your shot and raising one eyebrow at him. “Ready?” 

“Let’s do this.” Is his answer and then you are both downing the first shot, grimacing before moving to the next and by the third one you are already laughing, barely being able to bite onto the lemon Johnny holds out for you. 

You look directly at him, mischief in your eyes, when you finally bite the lemon, sucking of it before the sour taste fills your mouth. He laughs when you let go and your face contorts. “Stop laughing at me.” You playfully laugh, poking  your tongue out at him. 

“I’m sorry, I just thought you would handle it better.” He teases. “Suggested doing three shots right away, after all. 

“I just wanted us to let loose, that’s all.” You justify and he hums in agreement. “Want tonight to be really fun.” 

“It will be.” Then he’s holding your hand and pulling you out the kitchen.

It turns out to really be fun. You get drunk pretty fast after the tequila shots and Johnny is so funny that you laugh at almost everything he says. He talks about what he’s studying, about how he detests chemistry and how he almost lost his hair when he tried to bleach it. And he doesn’t mind when you interrupt him when a song you love starts playing and you have to dance to it. 

You let yourself go when you two start dancing, his hands on your waist as you do whatever your drunk body wants to. It’s nice, not thinking about anything but the song that is playing and you enjoy it, swaying your hips and even singing some of the lyrics. It’s really fun, until your eyes focus on something you really didn’t want to see. 

Jung Jaehyun, standing on a wall with some friends that you don’t know around him. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and you can see the silver of his necklace from how low the neckline is. He has a drink on his hand and his friend seems to be excitedly talking about something, but he’s paying him no mind because his eyes are on you. His eyes are on you and your head suddenly starts spinning. 

How long had he been there for? Did he see you basically grinding against Johnny, who happened to be his best friend? Was he jealous? Was he angry? If he did and if he was, that meant your plan worked. You gotten your sweet revenge. But why didn’t you feel happy?

“You okay?” Johnny’s voice snaps you out of your little trance and just then you realize you had stopped dancing. 

You nod your head maybe too fast. “Yeah, sure. I’m peachy.” He gives you a puzzled look, hand brushing a strand of your hair that had fallen into your eyes. You hate how sweet the gesture was. “What about you?”

He smiles at that. It’s easy to make him do that, you realize. “I’m good. Want to drink something?” 

“No, it’s fine.” You reply, speaking your next words without really thinking. “I actually gotta find my friend, Jisoo. To make sure she’s okay and all.” 

Johnny’s probably too understanding for his own good. He lets you go that easily, saying he too will go find his friends and that the two of you can meet later on. It’s so easy it’s pathetic. 

You move from the dancing and drunk bodies until you’re standing in an empty corridor and you let your back hit the wall as you try your hardest not to sink to the floor in frustration. You were dumb, that’s what you really were because you knew exactly what would happen now. 

He finds you easily, probably had been watching you from the moment you walked away. “Fancy seeing you here.” His voice is low as he approaches you, eyes searching for yours and you want to slap his face when they meet.

You snort. “Is it really?”

He just shrugs, offering you his cup and you eye it suspiciously. “Want some?” He asks and you shake your head. 

“What is it?” What you really want to ask is why he’s being so nice and why is he acting like everything is fine between the two of you.

 “Orange juice.” Is the clever reply he gives you and you would laugh in other circumstances, you really would. Because you liked boosting his ego, liked seeing his smile when someone appreciates his jokes.

“You’re not funny.” Is what you decide to say.

He raises his eyebrows, probably not expecting that reaction. “Damn, okay.” He looks uncomfortable, uncertain and that is a high contrast to the bubble of confidence he usually appears to be. The first time he met you, he talked to you like he knew you would fuck him by the end of the night. Not in a cocky way, but in a way that made you actually want to do it more. That’s gone now.

“What do you want, Jaehyun?” It’s a genuine question. He had followed you for a reason, you both knew that.

He looks down, almost in a shy manner and it makes you feel inadequate for some reason. “Just wanted to talk to you, I guess. it's been a while.” He mutters lowly. “Kinda miss you.”

Lies. What does he miss exactly? Talking to you? Unlikely because of all the things you did together, talking was not on top of the list. Your body? Sex? Couldn't be, because apparently he could get it  with plenty other people.

“Well, that's too bad.” You reply bitterly. “Besides, I don’t really feel like talking to you right now.” 

He looks genuinely hurt at that but only for a moment and you almost feel bad for it. Almost. “Come on, don’t be so mean to me. Im sorry, okay?” His voice drops even lower as he comes closer to you. Risky thing to do, in your opinion. “What I did was stupid. But you can be mad at me forever, we weren't even dating.”

“Thank god.” You mutter and he rolls his eyes at that. He’s standing very close to you know, hovering above you as you can see every detail of his face. Can smell the perfume you like so much and it makes your head spin.

“It's not like I cheated on you.” His voice is completely defeated. That’s far from the right thing to say and he knows that too. 

“You really are an asshole. I told you before i don't — didn't — care if you fuck other girls.” You hiss, avoiding his eyes. “But what you did was the awful. You made me — You broke my heart“

“I know and I'm sorry, how many times do i have to say it?” He does sound sorry, you’ll give him that. “Come on, can’t we just be good again, baby?” 

Maybe that’s the moment it all goes down. Maybe it was already over from the moment you saw him staring at you. 

“I don't know, Jaehyun.” But you do know and for a moment you just stare at him like he’s staring at you, wonder if there’s want in your eyes like there is in his. You stare at his lips before he talks again. 

“I like these things on your eyes.” He always hits you with the most random compliments that make you go weak in the knee.

“Please don’t say things like that.” You whine and hit him lightly on the chest. That makes him smile and you wish it didn’t. 

“Why not?” He asks teasingly. 

“You know why.” He knows, he really knows. That’s why he moves his head down just a little so that he can press at kiss at your cheek. 

You should push him away right now. That would be the smart thing to do. The right thing to do. Johnny was probably somewhere looking for you right now, and here you were, letting Jung Jaehyun make you a fool out of yourself again. You should be angry, mad, not putty in his hand. 

“Tell me this, baby.” He whispers against your ear and you feel small. So small he could just grab you in his hand. “Did you come with Johnny to make me mad? Huh? Don't lie to me.”

“I didn’t.” Yes you did and your plan had worked apparently. But not in the way you expected. “The world doesn't revolve around your dick, you know.” 

He laughs lowly. “Really? Because I think you did. Dancing all around him like you knew I would be watching.” He tsks, voice is smug and you wish he would just end your suffering. “You don't have to do that baby. I already want you enough.”

“You’re evil, Jaehyun.” Is all you manage to say, voice slurred. “I can’t think straight when I’m around you.” 

All you can think about is how you want to kiss him right now, and he seems to be thinking the same thing. “You know you don’t have to think at all. I got you.” He murmurs against your skins, lips pressing on your jaw, kissing your face until he stops at your lips and they immediately part for them. 

One of your hands slips to the back of his hair then, closing the distance between you two. It’s a slow, languid kiss and you can taste the alcohol from his lips. Or maybe it’s from yours, but you couldn’t care less right now.  His hand holding your face is what keeps you grounded, because the feels of his tongue sliding against yours in opened mouth kisses could kill you right now. 

When you part from the kiss you’re both breathing heavily and his hands stay in your cheeks. “I want you so bad. Always want you.” He says, voice raspy. And who were you to deny him of that when you wanted him just as much. 

☾

He was onto you the moment you stepped inside his room. Lips attached to your neck as you kept a vice grip on his hair, letting him know how much you were liking it. Usually Jaehyun took his time, building you up until you were begging, but tonight he seems to be the desperate one, with the way he grips your thighs, trying to push you closer to him and onto the bed at the same time.

You fall into the bed with a huff, him right on top of you and he continued his work on your neck. Tilting your head to give him more access, you feel the slide of his teeth on your sensitive skin and it makes you let out a moan. He continues doing that for a while, pressing kisses all over your and removing your dress while at it for better access. You give in easily, of course you do. 

“Do you want me?” He asks suddenly, voice muffled on your neck and you nod desperately.

“Yes. Yes, please.” You sound needy, pathetic. You are sure he loves it. He bites your neck after your reply, hands holding your thighs so he could scoop you up in the bed and your legs curl around his waist. 

You watch as he moves to remove his shirt and unbutton his jeans and you follow his lead by removing your own bra, biting your lips after throwing it somewhere in the room. 

He wastes no time in diving in your chest, licking one of your nipples before he starts sucking on it, making you arch your back underneath him like you’re asking for more. When his teeth close around it you let out a loud whine that makes him smirk against your skin. “Always so fucking loud for me.” He mutters and you can only reply with incoherent words. 

He kisses you again then, this time slower, with your mouths parting as he slides his tongue against your teeth before he’s sucking on your bottom lip. He moves his hips against yours in a slow grind, as if to test the waters, and your mind goes blank at the feeling of him hard against you. Fingers raking on his back, you try to bring him closer to you, as if that was possible. 

“Are you wet? Hmm?” He whispers against your jaw and you can only nod. As if to check, he presses two fingers on your clothed core. The way you have soaked through the cotton of your panties seems to be confirmation enough because he removes them, followed by his own underwear. 

Back on you, he drags his middle finger to your slit to your clit, circling it in a torturing way. He inhales deep when you whine against his lips. “Jaehyun.” His name falls from your lips in complete surrender. 

He presses one last fervent kiss to your lips? “Do you want it? — Fuck — Please, tell me.” His voice is strained as his hardness slides through your lower lips and you try to press him closer with your calves on his hips. “Please.”

“I want it - Jesus, I want it so bad.” Is all he needs to hear. In a blur, you watch him reach for his bedside table and retrieve a condom. You watch as he slides it on and then squeezes his cock in his fist trying to calm himself down.

He guides himself to your entrance, pushing the tip inside and your head spins, making you moan loudly. “That’s it. Take me, Baby — Fucking hell — That’s it.” 

it’s pure bliss when he bottoms out, you sighing from how full you feel and him grunting deeply in his chest. His hands immediately grips at your hips and he gives you the first thrust, hard and deep. 

He only gets rougher, each trust hitting you deeper than the last as his hips moves against yours. It’s when he whines against your mouth and brings a thumb to your clit that you know he won’t last long. “So fucking tight, god.” He hisses. “Taking me so well. You always take me well.” 

You bask in the praise, and with another thrust you’re coming all over him, squeezing him in and legs pushing him even deeper. “Oh, fuck.” You almost yell and he swallows it with his lips.

In a moment he’s coming too, with a low grunt and what you think is your name falling from his lips. You can feel him pulsing inside you when his forehead knocks against yours. This was probably the fastest any of you had ever reached your release with each other and you weren’t sure what that meant. 

Closing your eyes as he pulls out, you try not to think about it.

☾

You wake up with a headache and an ache between your legs. When you open your eyes, the surroundings are familiar and it only makes your head hurts even more. You remember every single thing that happened. 

Just as you sit up in the bed, Jaehyun walks in with a plate of what you think is sliced fruit and a glass of water that he hands you. “Morning.” His voice is raspy and his face is puffy, meaning he hasn't been awake for long. 

“Morning.” You reply, voice barely coming out so you down the glass of water before speaking again. “What time is it?” 

“It’s almost 3pm. We slept a lot” You mutter a little ‘fuck’ as he sits next to you in the bed and it feels weird to be here, unnatural. You had never stayed over before and it shows on how neither of you know how to act. “Here, I cut some apple for you. Might help if you’re feeling sick.”

Now that’s sweet. Too sweet for the occasion. “Thanks.” You take the plate from him, picking one slice and biting into it. It’s silence for a minute, only your chewing and the fan sound filling the room. You try not to think about anything, or else you would have a panic attack right away.

He clears his throat suddenly and you brace yourself. “About what you said in the party. I didn't mean to.” His voice is barely a whisper as he stares at you. “Break your heart I mean.”

You mutter a little oh, slice of apple falling from your grip. There’s nothing you think of saying, so you just stare back at him. He’s really beautiful, and you had noticed before of course, but right now fresh out of bed and unguarded he looks almost angelic. 

“But I can't give you what you want.” He continues and each word feels like a punch in your chest. “I'm not ready to be anyone's boyfriend.”

“Okay. I can understand that.” Your response is flat, dry.

His eyes soften at that. “It’s okay if you hate me.” 

“I don't.” That’s a lie at the same time it’s not and he gives you a look because he knows that too.” Okay, maybe a little bit.” 

He gives you a sweet smile that only makes you heart ache more and you place the plate he gave you on the bedside table before getting up.

“We can still be friends.” He says while you’re getting dressed.

You cringe at his words. How naive of him to think like that. “We are not friends, Jaehyun.” Your voice is small, not wanting to hurt him even though he just did that to you. “ And… I don't think I want us to be.” 

“Ok.” Is the only thing he says.

“Ok.” You mimic, before you’re walking away.

☾

The walk of shame is, thankfully, better than the rest of it all. You walk the whole way from Jaehyun’s dorm to yours in complete silence and without a thought in your head. It’s nice not thinking about anything, because these days it seems like your mind won’t let you catch a break. There’s always something in your head, how you need to raise your GPA and how you might fail a class or two, the uncertain thought of maybe not being able to find a job after you graduate. And finally, the one that makes you stay up at night, the excruciating thought of not being good enough for anything or anyone. That’s the one that makes you stay up at night staring at the ceiling as your insides eat you alive and the one that makes it hurt just a little more that Jung Jaehyun doesn't want you. 

But you don’t think about that at all. Not until you reach your house.

When you open the door you are met with emptiness and silence, and for now you’re thankful for it. You check your phone just in case, as you drop your things in the kitchen counter, and are not surprised to be met with 10 phone calls, 2 of them being from Johnny and a crazy amount of texts. 

You only open the chat with your roomates, quickly going through their messages of worry and sending them one back reassuring you were ok and had just gotten home. After that you shut your phone down, moving silently to the bathroom. 

The cold water of the shower manages to wake you up from your daze. Taking a deep breath as the water streams hit your back, you think back to the conversation. If that could be called a conversation at all. He did most of the talking, like he had it all planned out on his head. And it was so sudden, so quick that you think he probably wanted it to be over fast, like ripping off a bandaid. 

But it was better like this. You wonder if you would have said anything you regretted if you had stayed longer. You shut your eyes tightly. 

You hadn’t cried about it yet. You probably wouldn’t, didn’t really feel like it. This isn't even heartbreak, if you are being honest with yourself, this is just a bruise to your ego, that the target of your infatuation didn't reciprocate your shallow feelings. And it hurts, of course it does but there’s ways to fix it. 

When you get out of the shower and finish drying yourself you realize that you don’t want to be alone at the moment. You think of calling your friends, but they wouldn’t rest until you had spilled every single detail and you weren't ready to do that yet. 

Your thumb hovers the number that had texted you five times yesterday. The first two asking of your whereabouts and the last ones asking if you were okay, and to text him. You don’t hesitate before pressing on the call button. 

It rings three times before he picks up. “___. Hi.” His voice is sweet, even after what you did. 

“Hi, Johnny. I’m sorry for not calling earlier, I just passed out when I got home.” You give a little chuckle, trying to hide your nervousness. 

“Oh, that’s fine. Are you okay, thought? You disappeared last night and then Anne texted me asking if I knew where you were.” It’s an awful feeling knowing you made your friends worried, but you would fix it. You always did.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry about all that.” Your clear your throat before asking the next question. “I was kinda wondering If I could come over… I can bring food, to make it up to you.” 

And he says yes, of course he does. So you get ready, buy the chinese takeout he said he liked and in an hour you’re standing outside his house. 

“Hey, there.” He greets you with the same warmth he did yesterday. Only this time he looks more laid back, with a white t-shirt and sweatpants. It’s a good look. “You’re a savior, I was starving.” 

He takes the food from your hands and you laugh, walking inside his dorm and taking it in. It looks nice and you wish you were here in different circumstances, that you had taken time to actually get to know him instead of rushing everything to fulfill your own ego. “Are you hangover?” You try and make small talk while he gets the utensils he needs before gesturing to the couch in the middle of the room, and you take a seat. 

“Not really. Didn’t drink much after you left.” He places the food on the small table in front of you, opening the lids and you suddenly realize how hungry you were. “Are you?” 

“Nope.” You reply. You only had a headache, but you doubt that was from a hangover. 

“Then one beer won’t kill us.” He jokes, placing the beers he had retrieved from the fridge before finally sitting beside you on the couch. 

You start eating after that, both of you too hungry to talk about anything but Johnny keeps you entertained and you are not surprised to see he’s just as nice as he was yesterday. 

Only when the food is gone and Johnny is cracking open his second beer you decide to say something about what happened. 

“Listen, I’m sorry about last night. I got caught up with a friend and you know, had to help her out.” The lies comes easy and you feel bad, but the truth would be far worst. “I really did have a good time, though. Before I left.” 

He takes a sip before he’s smiling at you. “It’s fine, don’t worry. Shit like this happens.” You stare at his face. It’s impossible that he’s real, with his pretty face and understanding words. “And I had a good time too, was just a bit sad that I didn’t get to even kiss you.” 

That surprises you and you blush at his words. You knew he was at least a bit attracted to you and in the end, wasn't this the reason you had called him asking to come over in the first place? Isn't this what you wanted, a bit company? But you didn't expect him to be the one initiating it. 

You gulp down the lump on your throat. “W-We have time now, though. Don’t we?” 

He just laughs, nodding before he’s kissing you. It’s a slow, tentative kiss and he holds you by the back of your neck. He pressed his lips against yours, before he’s pulling at your bottom lip and you grip at his t-shirt. You’re impatient, trying to lick at his lips to get him to part them but doesn't let you have your fun. 

He just moves your head to his liking, kissing you deeper and your grip on his t-shirt gets tighter as your try to get him closer to you. 

He chuckles from your desperate ministrations, and you wonder when you had become this person, that is greedy and pathetically needy. That wants things to move fast so you don’t have time to think about Jaehyun. “Easy, angel.” Johnny mutters against your lips. “We have time, remember?” 

You just nod, trying to wrap your mind around that fact. You take a deep breath and start again. 

Maybe this time you would get things right.

----

a/n: thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it and if you did you can tell me here or support me by buying me a coffee here! 

[fizzychocolatemilk]

Totally Normal...You Know Until (Part 1)

A little late, but now it’s here! Enjoy and leave comments (if you’re comfortable)! Part two will be out here tomorrow...or you can read the whole fic on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33074071.

The day had been relatively normal. Katsuki had been put on patrol with Deku, since they had begun branding themselves together in anticipation for their upcoming graduation. To be honest, despite how far he and the shitty nerd had come in the three years since they started at UA, he still wondered what he did to get a (technically future) hero partner as good as Deku. Of course if the nerd heard that line of thought, Deku’d surely smack him and call him an idiot, then say that stupid “Kacchan sugoi!” crap that made Katsuki’s face get hot and his palms sweat more than usual.

He was secure enough at this point of his life to admit that he had more than platonic feelings for Deku, and if it were anyone else Katsuki would surely act on those feelings, ask the nerd out on a date, maybe to that pre-quirk era hero museum that opened recently near UA. However, because it’s Deku, Katsuki planned to take all those left unsaid feelings with him to the grave. He wasn’t going to be the jackass that ruined everything he and Deku had worked for years to get back, but really, it all comes back to the point that Deku deserves way better than what Katsuki can give him. Deku asked to be his hero partner, so Katsuki was going to be the best damn hero partner the shit nerd could ask for, which meant he wasn’t going to get greedy and ask for more than the stupid, self-sacrificing nerd could (or wanted to) give.

So the patrol was relatively normal. Deku was being his smiley, chatty self and talking Katuki’s ear off about some rookie hero that had debuted in the past week. Katsuki was trying to not get distracted by how cute the nerd was when he got into his shitty rambles when the kid ran into him.

“Momma! Can’t find my momma!” the child wailed. Large, watery green eyes with slitted pupils looked up at him. The child had several reptilian features, so Katsuki couldn’t really tell whether the child was male or female.

But that didn’t really matter. “Hey! Watch where you’re going kid,” he led with (because even if the kid was scared, you can’t go running around like that on busy streets). “Can you tell me your name?”

Katsuki was pretty good with little kids. They usually thought his rough temperament was funny and they weren’t annoying or clingy in the way he’s found reporters and older fans to be.

“Don’t worry. I’m a hero. Deku and I can help you find your momma.”

The kid sniffled a little bit. “M’name’s Kyo. ‘don’t remember where I last saw momma.”

That made things a little more difficult, but he was Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight dammit! He and Deku could definitely get this kid back to their mom. “Alright, Kyo. Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’ll look around nearby for your momma, but if we can’t find her we’ll take you to the police station and they can call your mom there. That sound good to you?”

Kyo nodded, so Katuski held out his hand for Kyo to take.

As they continued down the street, Katsuki asked Kyo about his day, to which he enthusiastically responded with a long story that included a bad day at school followed by a fun afternoon out with his mother. During which Deku walked, awkward and silent, next to Katuski while he kept an eye out for a distraught mother.

Soon they had made it to the end of the street, and as they rounded the corner Kyo’s eyes lit up.

“MOMMA!!!”

A bright flash erupted from Kyo and Katsuki’s clasped hands before Kyo tore away towards their mom. Katsuki would have ran after him, but he was hit with a painful headache, one that made him clutch his head in both hands and curl into himself. He distantly heard Deku screaming his name, but it didn’t register as his ears began ringing and the world swirled before his eyes. Then everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Katsuki awoke, he was on the ground with an upset Kyo hovering over his face. “Uhhhh….W-w-what..? W-what happened?” He said with a humiliating stutter. What was wrong with him?

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Hero!” Kyo cried. “I didn’t mean to use it! I was just so happy to see momma! I’m sorry.”

Katsuki sat up as he processed the words. “I’m sorry. Ummm...what are you t-t-talking about kiddo?”

“Hi. I’m Kyo’s mother. I’m really sorry, sir, but he used his quirk on you,” a lady with a strong build, freckles that looked like sky blue scales, and a navy blue bob cut extended her hand to him. Assumably for him to take. He shook his head no, mumbled a barely discernible “thank you,” and stood up without the help. He felt like he was forgetting something for a moment. What was it?

“Deku!” It hit him like a freight train. He forgot about Deku. How embarrassing. Katsuki could feel his face heating up without his consent, and he slapped his hands over his cheeks to hide the growing flush. Then he looked over to see Deku sitting up on the ground with his head clutched in one hand.

“What the fuck happened?”

That was Deku. Katsuki’s brain rebooted. “Deku?! Are you okay?! You can’t say stuff like that in front of a kid! Even I censor myself!” Katsuki berated Deku as he checked him for injuries frantically.

Deku batted his hands away half-heartedly. “I’m fucking fine, stupid Kacchan! Answer me! What the fuck happened?”

Katsuki huffed at Deku and his cheeks involuntarily puffed out, making him look like a chipmunk, when the woman interjected. “I’m sorry, sirs. Again, my child used their quirk on you. So you’ll have swapped personalities for 12-48 hours. Your feelings and choices won’t be affected, you’ll just show your feelings and enact your will a bit differently. You’ll both get the bad headaches again when the quirk wears off. Sorry for the inconvenience, but thank you for returning my child to me. It is deeply appreciated.” The woman smiled at the end and sent a fond look towards Kyo.

Katsuki opened his mouth to ask for her name, but Deku interrupted him. “Listen up, lady. We appreciate your concern, but we’re gonna need your name and number. We’re third year hero students at UA, so we need to hand that information to our homeroom teacher for reference. Just in case the quirk doesn’t wear off when you say it does or has any extraneous effects,” Deku gruffed at the woman, a scowl on his face and eyebrows downturned in slight annoyance. Then he turned his head to the side and grumbled, “We’re just doing our fucking job. You don’t need to thank us.”

The woman smiled, making it obvious she heard Deku’s final sentences. She then pulled a pen and a small notepad out of her purse, scribbled something on it, then ripped the page out and handed it to Katsuki, who was standing slightly closer to her. “Well then, thank you for your work. It is definitely appreciated.”

Deku scoffed at the woman, but Katsuki noticed that Deku’s ears were slowly flushing. This in turn made Katsuki himself blush because...those were his mannerisms. So he knew Deku was feeling pleased and embarrassed, even if he still looked standoffish. How could Deku still be a cute dumbass even with his own mannerisms?! It didn’t make sense to Katsuki, but his own flush was dying down now thankfully. Katsuki turned to the woman and held out his right hand for a shake. “Thank you for your compliance and continued support. It is appreciated.” As much as Katsuki didn’t especially like most adults, he appreciated the reasonable ones.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Katsuki and Deku walked back to UA after stopping in at the agency, Katsuki thought about what had happened so far. Deku’s personality was noticeably different from his own, but Katsuki didn’t hate it. It made it easier to express what he was feeling in a healthy way. From his interactions with the woman and Kyo, he definitely seemed nicer. He was just doing what he would usually do, just in the way Deku would do it, but he felt like a completely different person. It was weird. But… “What the hell are you mumbling about, Bakacchan?!” Katsuki jolted as he was startled out of his thoughts.

”Oh...ummm...I guess I was just thinking about the effects of the quirk,” he responded, but Katsuki could once again feel his face flushing. Again with the stupid blush?!

Deku scoffs again and turns his head slightly away from Katsuki before replying. “Yeah. It’s pretty fucking annoying. I’m feeling the same shit I usually feel, but I just can’t express it the way I usually fucking do. Shit’s dumb as fuck.” Katsuki snorted at Deku’s language. To which Deku responded, “Hah?! You’re just gonna laugh at me, dumb Kacchan?!” Then muttered, “Dumb Bakagou.”

Katsuki devolved into full on laughter. “Deku! You...you...hahahahaha...you’re the one bad at expressing your emotions now!”

”HAAAAH?! Say that to my face, shitty nerd!” Katsuki started running down the sidewalk as Deku chased him. The streets filled with their combined laughter and shouting as they ran all the way back to UA.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aizawa stared intently at them as Katsuki sat on a sofa in the teachers lounge next to Deku. Katsuki stared back at him, eyes wider than normal and face not in his usual scowl, while Deku was slouched next to him, dangerous green eyes flashing a glare at their homeroom teacher. Aizawa’s eyes narrowed and flashed red for a second before he rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily.

”Can’t you two problem children go a day without some sort of incident?”

Katsuki’s cheeks pinkened with embarrassment at the truth of that statement. While they didn’t often get into quirk accidents specifically, he and Deku could definitely be referred to as partners-in-crime. They’ve destroyed furniture during playful fights, accidentally hurt some of their classmates during a paired fighting exercise, and broken curfew together. And those are only the incidents from the past week! He was starting to realize how much more he got into trouble with Deku around, when said person nudged his arm and grumbled about him mumbling again.

Aizawa sighed again, heavier this time, and continued speaking. “Well, since this isn’t really impairing your judgement or ability to function, and since the quirk will wear off relatively quickly, you’re going to stay at UA for the duration of the effects. Your parents have been notified and have agreed to allow you to stay, but both your mothers requested that you call tonight and after the quirk wears off,” he ran a slightly annoyed hand through his hair, then continued, “This might be a lot to ask, but try not to cause too much commotion? I’ll see you both in class on Monday.” They took the dismissal and both stood to leave, but not without a grunt from Deku and a short “Thank you, sensei,” from Katsuki himself.

Deku pulled out his phone in the hallway, presumably to call his mother, when Katsuki placed a gentle hand on his arm to stop him. “Why don’t we both text our moms and do a group video chat?” Deku grunted in response, but his fingers began moving across his phone’s keyboard to text his mother the plan.

Katsuki pulled out his phone to text his mother, but then he heard Deku say, “Good plan, Kacchan,” in a low voice.

He fumbled his phone for a minute as his face flushed bright red. “Y-y-y-yeah...I-I-I just f-f-figured we could avoid a-a-a lot of the dramatics...and you know...they could see that we were f-f-fine for the-themselves,” he stuttered out. His hands involuntarily came up to cover his heavily flushed face, but the burden of his phone in his hand caused him to wrap his arms around his head and look away from Deku.

Deku scoffed, but grumbled out a “whatever,” and continued walking towards the dorms, but he now had a thoughtful expression on his face.

Katsuki panicked for a second. What was Deku thinking about?! Katsuki couldn’t help but worry that Deku would figure out his feelings if he kept being so obvious with his embarrassment. Deku was somewhat easier to read with their personalities swapped because he was using Katsuki’s mannerisms, so Katsuki could only assume that it worked both ways. Katsuki had just exhibited one of Deku’s flustered tendencies. One of his extremely obvious flustered tendencies. If he kept up this behavior, Katsuki could kiss the new, perfect normal that he had achieved with Deku (the perfect, partners-in-crime, ride-or-die, visit each other at 3am to talk about anything normal) goodbye. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t...

”Kacchan!”

Katsuki looked up to see Deku down the hallway. Waiting for him. Katsuki blushed (again), and ran to catch up. He looked over at Deku and gave a small smile. Deku scowled and turned his head away. His ears were flushed again. They walked side-by-side silently as they made their way toward the dorms.

[arlome]

Drabble Me This

Okay, friends, here be all the prompts I owe you! I apologize in advance, they’re not what I usually provide you with - in order to actually fill them all out I opted for drabble/drabble-adjacent form. I hope you’re happy with them, nonetheless!

 For @bluecityrose:

1. Casual touch, bed, a distraction (Phrack):

There’s blood in his lungs, there’s mud in his eyes, there’s death in his heart. A scream rises in his belly – deep, deep down, pressing on his kidneys, treading on his spleen – and spills as dying gurgles from the ashes of his throat. It goes on and on, he’s shaking, trembling; there’s pressure on his left side, hot, burning –

He wakes gasping to find her pressed to him, her eyes wet and fingers gentle. She touches his arm, she touches his ribs, she kisses his shoulder.

“You’re safe, Jack,” she mumbles into his neck. “You’re safe, darling.”

He lets her distract him.

 2. Bumping shoulders together, piano bench, fun (Phrack):

The number he’s playing is nothing short of bewitching. His fingers are flying on the keys – caressing, kissing, making love to the blacks, romancing the whites – masterful strokes by masterful hands.

She slides onto the bench next to him as his hands still, bumps her shoulder against his.

“What sort of witchcraft is this, Inspector Robinson?” she asks, beyond charmed.

He flushes rather prettily and smiles self-deprecatingly at the keys.

“It’s called “The Crave”,” he says, giving the keys a little wobble. “By Jelly-Roll Morton. My brother and I heard it played by someone who met Jelly-Roll in Chicago last year. And, well, I picked it up.”

Clever, clever man.

She leans into him, her red lips pressed to the spot below his ear.

“Well, I know a little something about craving.”

He smiles.

 3. Speaking against skin, bathroom, happiness (Rosie/Jack):

He stands before the basin wearing nothing but his trousers, the blade gliding down his sharp cheek with immaculate precision. There’s steam rising from the water, clouding the mirror; she can hear the clink of the razor hitting the ceramic bowl as he rinses it out.

Her eyes half-masted, she lounges in bed, still warm from his caresses, but the strong lines of his back beckon.  He’s a masterpiece of strong arms and broad shoulder, of lean musculature and wiry sinews. And the way he moves between her thighs –

She hides her blush between his shoulder blades, wraps her arms around his slender hips. The blade halts in its descent.  

“I’d have you spend the rest of the day in my bed, Constable Robinson,” she sighs against his skin.

He drops the razor in the water and turns in her embrace. Only one side of his face is clean-shaven.

“Time and crime wait for no man, Mrs Robinson,” he replies cheekily, and she rolls her eyes at him. That man and his puns.

But ever the generous lover, he leans to press kisses to her lips, her nose, her ear.

“I shall die in thy lap tonight, Rosie,” he rasps, and the promise sinks low in her belly.

It’s only after he’s gone for the day that she realises there’s shaving cream on the tip of her nose.

 For @whopooh :

4. Tracing fingers over skin, friends or relative’s house, as a distraction (Rosie/Jack):

She’d never thought she’d lose her virginity against the door of her father’s study - during her own engagement party, no less – but here they are.

It all starts innocently enough -she touches his wrist; he’s got his hand on the small of her back – it’s nothing short of chaste and above-board, and she – the epitome of virtue and chastity.  

Until she isn’t.

It takes but a minute to drag him down the corridor when no-one’s looking, another to start fumbling with his crisp suit. And bless him - he tries to be noble - but she burns, and burns for him; she has no use for men of God or magistrates. She’s his and he is hers, and the door is a good place as any to affirm the connection.  

He’s pressing into her with all the eagerness of a man in love and kisses her with tenderness tenfold. And afterwards, they giggle and blush, sharing his now thoroughly soiled handkerchief, and kiss with teeth.

There’re specks of dried blood on her inner thighs for the rest of the evening. She doesn’t give a jot.

 For Anon no’ 1:

5. Scratching back/scalp, kitchen, no reason at all (Phrack):

Mr Butler rises early, even on Sundays. It’s not because of his job – he’s always been an early riser, even in his youth – but rather because he doesn’t like missing time. Besides, Mrs Butler had always been especially fond of mornings.

He enters the kitchen at half-past-six and starts on the eggs; he’s got a feeling they’d be in high demand soon. As will be a pot of tea, and some toast, no doubt. Better add some biscuits, and Dorothy’s scrumptious nut loaf, too; they’d never go to waste.

Sure enough, at quarter-to-seven, he can hear the tell-tale groan of the stairs, and a following “good morning, Mr Butler,” mumbled in a familiar, deep voice, still raspy with sleep. He turns around, smiling amicably, and gestures towards one of the chairs.

“Good morning, Inspector,” he greats the immaculately dressed man. “Would you care for some eggs, and the paper?”

Something lights up behind the still slumbering eyes of the younger man when Mr Butler starts plating the eggs and toast.

“Thank you, Mr Butler,” he says gratefully, and takes a sip of tea, sighing in content at the warmth.

“Is it to the station today, Inspector?” the older man asks, in genuine curiosity. “On a Sunday?”

The man colours a little and lowers his toast.

“I took Detective Herrington’s shift,” he explains, clearing his throat. “His wife is unwell, and I don’t mind, really.”

Mr Butler smiles pleasantly and nods. He really is quite fond of the Inspector.

He excuses himself to his duties after a while - the silver needs a good polish – and retreats to the pantry, to give the younger man his space. He’s right in the midst of polishing a rather stubborn knife when the stairs creak again; a discreet, inquisitive peak reveals Miss Fisher, still sleep-tussled, entering the kitchen.

The paper doesn’t move as she draws closer, but the smile on her face indicates that the reader has noticed her arrival.  She reaches the Inspector’s chair, and leans over his shoulder, stroking her fingers into his coiffed hair and causing him to groan in protest. Her laughter is low and husky and is all too endearing to the man in the chair, if the lowered paper and the soft smile on his face are any indications. When he reaches for Miss Fisher and pulls her into his lap, causing his teacup to rattle on the table, Mr Butler averts his gaze, smiling.

After all, the silver needs a good polish.

 For @firesign23 :

6. Hooking chin over shoulder, hospital, writer’s own idea (Phrack):

There’s a raid and it’s ugly, as these things often tend to be. He knows it, Collins knows it – hell, even Mrs Collins knows is – and yet…

Phryne comes up from behind him, hugs his waist and hooks her chin over his shoulder.

“I ordered Dot to go home and rest,” she murmurs softly, kissing the wool of his suit jacket; he can feel the pressure of her lips through the fabric. “She shouldn’t be running around so close to her time, no matter the circumstances.”

He nods absent-mindedly, his eyes glued to the immobile figure on the bed. This should never have happened. He should never have –

“Jack,” Phryne’s voice is tender and gentle, and he has to physically restrain himself – he mustn’t flinch, he mustn’t – “this isn’t your fault.”

He nods mutely again.

Then why does it feel like it is?

  For @aurora-australis-tumbles:

7. Hooking chin over shoulder, floor, habit (Rosie/Jack):

They lie on the rug before the hearth, sated and bested.

He’s flat on his belly, eyes closed, and she traces the scars on his back in heart-breaking finality, her fingers trembling over the puckered flesh.

It cannot go on, she knows it, and she suspects he does, as well. This – the frenzied joining of bodies, the heated kissing of skin – is all they have left of their crumbling marriage; nothing to show for but a quiet house and a few fleeting moments of ecstasy.

“Jack,” her voice shakes as she presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I want a divorce.”

He stiffens, doesn’t turn, but his voice is soft and tender when he answers, “whatever you want, Rosie.”

She hooks her chin over his shoulder, years of habit coming to her aid, and kisses his cheek. She’s not the least bit surprised to find it as wet as hers.

“I love you still,” she mutters against his jawline, feels the slight spasm in the muscles.

“And I, you, Rosie,” he answers, his voice hoarse with feeling. “Always.”

They lie entwined for hours until the night is out.

 8. Playing with hair, sofa, for the first time (Phrack):

The bottle of Italian wine is consumed rather swiftly, followed by two cocktails and quite a few tumblers of her best single malt. Jack and Phryne, a little past tipsy, abandon all pretence at properness and decorum, and sit so close on the chase, that they all but appear fused together.

His hand traces the strands of her raven hair very softly, and she wonders whether he’s aware of the action at all.

“Do you regret it, Jack?”

He turns to look at her upturned face. Her eyes are a little moist and worried, the clear emotion shining through; her intoxicated mind is bringing down the walls, brick by brick.

His lips still tingle from that kiss, from being pressed to foreign lips, from tasting a mouth that wasn’t hers. He knows his own heart now; there’s no more doubt.

“Not a thing,” he vows, fingers dancing down the nape of her neck.

She sighs into his shoulder, finally at ease.

 For @thewillowbends:

9. Holding hands, train compartment, nostalgia (Phrack):

The train ride is as uneventful as they come, which – frankly – comes as quite the shock.

She flips the pages of her book in clear boredom, not paying the slightest attention to the words.

From across the table, her partner glances at her fondly over his newspaper.

“Getting bored with the quiet life, Miss Fisher?” he asks cheekily, to which she sighs quite dramatically and harrumphs in a rather unladylike manner.

“You’d think they’d at least supply us with a juicy murder or two!”

“I wasn’t aware the option was included in the train fare,” he deadpans and folds the paper.

She rolls her eyes at him, supposedly unimpressed, but the slight curl of her lips tells a different story.

He reaches for her hands.

“Do you remember our previous train ride together, Miss Fisher?”

“I remember there wasn’t much riding involved, Inspector.”

The glint in his eyes borders on wicked.

“I reckon it’s high time we remedied that.”

She can’t discard her book fast enough.

 For @dssculpture:

10. Sitting close enough to press knees together, work, no reason at all (Phrack):

There’s a case, and there’s supper.

They sit to a feast of succulent duck and very good wine. Mr Butler has outdone himself once more.

They talk and laugh and flirt as they discuss the case. There’s light in her eyes, and freedom in his.

Once the food is cleared away, they spread papers and files and evidence all over the dining room table, and huddle close to inspect the facts.

The hours pass, the whisky flows, and facts turn a little blurry. He can smell the sharp scent of her perfume, underlined with just a tinge of sweat; she can feel his warm breath on her neck. Their knees press together.

There’s too much whisky, and too much everything else. He rises to excuse himself; she follows to escort him to the door. The files are left scattered on her table.

He walks home to clear his head.

 11.Tracing fingers over skin, Aunt P’s, Mischief (Phrack):

He’s being wicked again.

Hand slipping under her dress, fingers dancing over sensitive skin – up, up, up; just above her garter, tracing the borders of her French silk – stroke after stroke after stroke. When one daft finger decides to declare war on France, she nearly chokes on the Asparagus Aunt P is so fond of serving at luncheon.

It’s another dreadfully dull affair at the old battle-axe’s – fundraising for this or that cause; she’s there solely to charm – and the poor Inspector is amusing himself in a way that should frankly lead to his arrest. And hers as well, for that matter. She casts a glance in his direction and finds him thoroughly engrossed in his food; below the desk, his finger traces her clit.

She clamps her thighs hard on his hand.

He lifts his head from the plate and raises his eyebrows in challenge.

Why, the smug bastard!

She turns to her aunt in false brightness, determined to take him down a peg.

“Aunt P,” she calls across the table, “did you know, Jack here is eager to hear all about your collection of miniature zebras! About each and every one of them, in fact!”

To her left, she hears Jack try to stifle a horrified groan unsuccessfully, and she smirks in triumph.

After all, two can play this game.

 For Anon no’ 2:

12. Rub arms/back for warmth, rain, stubbornness (Phrack):

The police car breaks down just a few kilometres shy of Melbourne. The rain begins to fall quite heavily precisely four minutes after. Inside the car, the rather miffed pair of passengers sit with their arms crossed and their brows furrowed.

“This wouldn’t have happened if we took my car, Jack!” protests the lady of the two. Her clothes are elegant and expertly tailored, but hardly right for being stranded in the middle of nowhere with a storm brewing.

“On police business, I drive the police motorcar, Miss Fisher,” mutters the man called ‘Jack’, his tone indicating that this is an often-repeated mantra of his. “Besides, none of this would have happened, if – “

“If what, Inspector?”

“You know what, Miss Fisher!”

“Oh! So this is all somehow my fault?”

Thunderous silence descends upon the vehicle in a manner quite resembling the storm outside, and the pair turn to their respective windows. The unwelcome reticence yawns and stretches, engulfing many minutes and impatient little huffs, until it is disturbed by the faint sound of chattering teeth.

The man turns from the window.

“Are you cold, Phryne?” he asks, and his deep voice is now layers softer than it was. There’s caring in that voice, and not a small amount of longing.

“…no.”

“I can hear your teeth chattering, Miss Fisher, and your fingernails are turning blue. Here, take my coat.”

“I don’t need your coat, Jack. I’m perfectly fine as I am.”

“Of course you are,” he answers indulgently, “but take it anyway.”

“I told you, I don’t –“

“Just take the bloody coat, Phryne!”

“…..”

“…..”

“…Jack?”

“Yes, Miss Fisher?”

“I’m still cold.”

He reaches out and rubs her back with great care. She glides closer, huddling for warmth.

“Better?”

“Better.”

Outside, the storm rages.

[atopearth]

Collar X Malice Part 1 - Enomoto Mineo Route

It was hard choosing between Cafe Enchante, Code Realize and Collar X Malice, but I decided to choose the latter because I think it sounds the most interesting to me, and I'm not really in the mood for magical or steampunk fantasy hahaha. I'm still not really into the art style of Collar X Malice though haha. Anyway, I always find it saddening to see people killed for a group's justice/ideologies since a lot of the time, it's not like they particularly targeted a specific person, but alike this case, they target a specific group of people - the police. It always makes me wonder about how cruel it is thinking how of all people, it had to be them, and what other people who were "luckily" not in their place would feel? Would they feel guilty but happy that it wasn't them? Or just rage over the idea that they've done this to their colleagues? It's always terrible to think about the lost of freedom of the captured, how they live in fear for months over the possibility of their incoming death, and then having to experience death without even really knowing why it had to be them. I already find the setting quite interesting, not only does it seem like a terrorist organisation is rampant, but the government decides that enclosing people inside Shinjuku to find these terrorists before the supposed X-Day is the best measure, and even giving people over the age of 20 guns for self-defence is certainly a fascinating way to handle things. It obviously isn't a great idea, but I'm curious to see what would happen~ Wow, it was obvious things would be tense but seeing normal people aim their guns at police officers calling them useless to vent out their stress and anger at being stuck in Shinjuku is pretty scary... this is definitely not a good time to be a police officer. I think it's great to see how different both Mochida and Ichika are, but still see how they both are really kind in their own ways. Mochida may have been a hot-headed guy back in the day (as he says), but seeing him right now shows how mature and strong he is. He knows how to calmly handle situations, and also prioritise protecting Ichika. I think it's really sweet to know that when the guns were first distributed to citizens, Ichika used to get really scared when people would pull the gun on her, but Mochida would always protect her. It's nice to see that she's now also grown enough to handle it in her own way by calmly writing down their firearm numbers (on each individual gun to identify people).

Saeki seems like a cool guy too! I love how he encouraged her during their training academy days that to shoot is to protect, and that helped her have the conviction to try her best to practise shooting with a gun. I love how Ichika trains daily even though it seems like her department doesn't really "need" it, I like her passion for her work. Feels bad for Ichika that she had to experience near-death from poison, that's pretty scary. On the other hand, the CG with Yanagi desperate to save her was pretty. I thought Enomoto was the harsh one, but it seems like it's actually Sasazuka who is hahaha. Shiraishi seems like the mad scientist type, but a fun one? Lol. Ooh he does criminal profiling and is the director of the Field Ops team/the forensic part of things. Hmmm so Yanagi and them are all former cops. I wonder what the people who put the collar on Ichika mean when they call her a sympathiser that may exact their will in the future? How does killing police and other people through the X-Day incidents exact the justice they desire? Maybe there's more to the specific people they killed and the police are hiding it? Lmaooo when Enomoto did his introduction to Ichika and took out a fan for the kabuki style intro hahahaha.

Aww, Okazaki is so cute, I like him, I think he's my favourite right now. He seems innocent but suspicious at the same time haha. On the other hand, Sasazuka is pretty intense, I felt sorry for Ichika when he so chillingly stared at her at such a close distance, like geez personal space please, even if you hate her lol. I'll admit that the questions she asked were pretty obvious, but that's because I can see it objectively whereas she's actually in the situation so it's more tough for her. At least Yanagi is nice enough to explain anything she doesn't understand. Lmao when Okazaki fell asleep on her shoulder. I think it's really nice how Okazaki gives off such a gentle feel, I guess it's not too hard to gauge what kind of person Ichika is considering how easily she went along with him and even let him sleep on her shoulder for half an hour lol. Honestly if I had to pick a suspicious Adonis guy, I would have to pick Saeki (sorry if I'm wrong😂), mainly because I feel like he understands her passion best and he even spends time drinking with her and knows her quite well. Lmao I find it so cute how "traditional" Enomoto is being shocked at Ichika taking the drunk Saeki back to his house and having gone over to his house many times loll. HAHAHA when Saeki kinda woke up for a bit and said Enomoto must be Ichika's boyfriend and they both rejected the idea adamantly. The funniest thing was when she said Enomoto wasn't her type (in retaliation of him saying the same thing to her) and he got hurt by it lmaooo.

Ohh I see, so the police officers who were captured and killed in the beginning of the game were actually "corrupt". Hmm it's interesting how each of the incidents involve very different types of cases, it feels more like Adonis is comprised of different people with different thoughts rather than just one team with one objective or just one person. It seems that one thing Adonis can agree on is that it thinks of bullying as the ultimate crime imo🤔 Trust me to be interested in the case that the guy I'm least interested in (Sasazuka) is in charge of. Nothing against Sasazuka but he's not really appealing right now so hopefully he'll change my mind haha. Anyway, I quite like Enomoto so I'm excited to check out his route~ He's the most "normal" I guess? Maybe it's because he's close in age to Ichika so he's straightforward but not super nice like Yanagi, and not so extreme like Sasazuka, and not weird like Shiraishi haha. Enomoto seems like such an awkward guy with women, it's so cute hahaha. HAHAHA, I loved it when he said "I didn't just think you were cute or anything like that!" He's so hilarious. It was cute how she popped an ice cube into his mouth when he drank the scalding hot tea lol. I think it's pretty cute how Ichika already kinda knows how to deal with him lol.

On the other hand, Ichika's little brother seems like such a little shit to her right now lol. He's probably protecting his friend from bullying or whatever but still, his attitude towards his sister is pretty bad. I'm definitely warming up to Sakuragawa, she's like the girl friend Ichika needs that helps her with the guys since they're all confusing to her lol. Is it just me suspecting everyone or does Shiraishi's playfulness telling Ichika to try her best to not die in this collar "test to see if she's worthy by Adonis" sound like the playfulness of Adonis during the May incident with the killing of the four police officers?🤔 Anyway, lmao at how shy Enomoto is that he immediately ran away the moment he accidentally bumped into Ichika, and she tried chasing him but he's way too fast lol. It's so cute how he came running back when she tripped and scraped her leg though lol. Enomoto was so hilarious when he piggybacked her and tried to calm himself down saying he shouldn't think and only feel HAHAHA, not sure if that's gonna help you😂 It's so funny how he doesn't know how to handle all these situations with Ichika but demands to be a gentleman, I love it. I also couldn't help but laugh when he told her the reason he wore an eyepatch is because he respects Date Masamune hahahaha, to be fair, I think it's awesome how much he loves the Sengoku era part of history, and to be fair, the eyepatch thing is pretty hot. Just as I was about to say Sasazuka was really annoying asking whether Ichika was serious about this and talking about her collar, (like dude I'm sure she's the one who is the most worried, she's the one that's going to die, just because she doesn't look like she's doing anything doesn't mean she isn't, she's just not as smart, and it's not like she can throw aside all her other problems just for this), Enomoto stood up for her!! I was so happy. I'm also happy Ichika finally said something against Sasazuka and it was for Enomoto! But it does seem like Sasazuka is kinda concerned for Enomoto or maybe just his case hahaahha. Anyway, sometimes Ichika just takes so much shit from Sasazuka, I honestly feel bad for her.

Omgg, the police officer called Fujii who had been confirmed dead from the April/May incident was actually Enomoto's senior and he really respected him as the embodiment of justice? They even seemed so friendly... No wonder why he lacks the motivation to find the truth about these incidents. He probably wouldn't know what to do if he really found that the guy he admired all this time really was a criminal... But at the same time, since he had the resolve to leave the police for this, shouldn't he hope to investigate and find evidence that maybe Adonis was wrong? But I guess I can see why he would be so down. It honestly broke my heart to see Enomoto filled with anger looking at Fujii's dead body... Especially when he was trying this best to save him by looking everywhere for him... He was so close.. oh..I see, Enomoto really did try to prove Fujii's innocence, until he actually found undeniable evidence of the opposite..That's sad.. Honestly, I thought I would find Enomoto frustrating to deal with, and I guess in a sense he can be, considering how he can't let go of the case but at the same time he's not doing anything about it. But I just relate so much to him being stuck in a rut right now, I just couldn't blame him. His reasons are of course more understandable than mine, but yeah that feeling of being stuck and not knowing how to handle it really kills. Anyway, Ichika in terms of words didn't really do much, but I think just chasing after Enomoto and expressing to him that she wants to continue being his case partner and that she would never betray him was enough, the rest depends on if he can face it and her.

Is that guy with piercings in a band with Kazuki, Okazaki??? That's so random lmao. (EDIT: no, I’m just not used to the art so they looked similar to me LOL, my bad Okazaki!) When it comes to Kazuki, I can understand his frustration considering how his sister never has the time for him and his parents are insistent on him inheriting a boarding house he doesn't care for, but what I hate is how he blames everything on Ichika without looking at his own problems. Whenever Ichika tries in any way to talk to him, he's hostile about it, has he ever cared about her? Has he ever asked her how she's doing?? She's the one that has to go to work so many hours a day during a crappy time like this, and it's not even the best time to be a part of the police, but has he ever thought to ask her how is she doing physically and mentally??? Instead, she's always trying her best to make his meals, feed him properly and using any time she has to speak to him in some way but he never appreciates it and never sees it as anything more as she's "annoying". Yeah, he's going through a rebellious teenage stage but he annoys me so much because it's all about me, me and me, and he doesn't spare a thought to her, she's not even his mother but she has to take care of him like she's one and he still complains about her without even trying to communicate himself. Lmao when Enomoto used Ichika as a body pillow and drunkingly told her how cute he thought she was hahahaha. HAHAHA, I love how dramatic Enomoto is to dogeza to Ichika and apologise for his drunk self, I nearly died when he misunderstood so badly he was about to propose to her😂😂😂 Anyway, Ichika trying to have a proper talk with Kazuki when he's sleeping is definitely not a good idea lol! For one, he's definitely someone who hates waking up, so the idea of her waking him up early + being in his private space would definitely annoy him lol, I still think he's an ass but I feel like Ichika should properly think about and communicate with him to find a time they can both be calm and talk without anything like work interfering. Okay, lmao at Enomoto reciting the numbers for pi to calm himself down, can this guy can get any more funnier and cuter?🤣🤣 Hahahaha, it's so Enomoto to say he wanted to be a policeman because of police dramas right after Ichika talked about her touching story of wanting to help people😂 I honestly can't get enough of Enomoto, I love how straightforward and honest he is complimenting Ichika's food, and I love how he's such a doting older brother. He's so sincere with everything, it's so sweet. Blushing Enomoto is the cutest thing everrr!

Honestly, seeing Enomoto be so mature and own up to Kazuki that it was rude of him for being loud in their apartment was nice, but wow, Kazuki is such a shit that he can't even treat guests with any form of politeness. Like seriously dude, does the whole world owe you something that you feel like you need to treat every person like crap? Hahahah, I love how Ichika decided to tease Enomoto a little bit when he finally returned her feelings (towards the cases), and decided to try again with the investigations having her as his partner. I feel like they suit each other well because they're both unafraid to speak their feelings towards each other and tease each other. HAHAHA LMAO when Enomoto shouted so loudly on the streets asking Ichika to be his partner, I died from laughter, especially when he followed up with a please😂😂😂 It's kinda funny how Yanagi kinda deciphers for Enomoto and them what Sasazuka means even if he's being pretty harsh, he's like Sasazuka's interpreter lmao. Anyway, I'm glad Enomoto also told Yanagi and Sasazuka properly about his intentions and apologising for not doing anything the whole time he's been there. Honestly, I loved the part when Enomoto came to save Ichika, it was just so cool how he put a coat on her (since the thugs told her to strip or they'll kill the hostage) and then beat those guys up. I just love how dorky he can be, but also how mature he is when it's required. I also find it so sweet that Enomoto didn't reprimand her or anything about being rash without a plan, and instead told her that her efforts weren't in vain since it took the thugs off guard and gave him time to subdue them. I really liked the part where Ichika held Enomoto's hand as he talked to her about Fujii. It never really occurred to me that Enomoto would have possibly thought that Fujii died because of him. Since it was because Enomoto started racking up achievements and was transferred to Field Ops that it apparently made Fujii feel desperate to get a promotion, leading to all those false arrests he did... It must hurt to think that the person you respected in the end became desperate for their own position because of you. It's pretty saddening as well since Enomoto genuinely felt encouraged with Fujii's support and words, and it was because of Fujii that he was able to achieve what he could. Personally, I feel that even if Fujii did feel like that, I'm sure he was also happy for Enomoto, because being happy for them but dissatisfied with your own position doesn't have to contradict each other. Anyway, for some reason when Hana appeared, I couldn't help but imagine the idea of Kazuki being a part of Adonis...🤔🤔

I love how easily Enomoto is able to lighten the mood of the story. It's so adorable how he practised before asking Ichika out for lunch hahaha. It's so cute how Enomoto and Ichika bond over pudding hahaha. I think what I love the most about Ichika and Enomoto is how frank they are with each other. There's no misunderstandings because Enomoto will always explain what he means when he says things, and he always tells her his appreciation for what she does. Maybe that's the influence from Fujii, he really knows how to encourage others and reassure them. I find it so funny how Ichika knew Enomoto doesn't like carrots but was too shy and prideful to admit it, so she suggested exchanging her bowl for it and even said she loves carrots sooo much lmao. Enomoto is so honest even when it comes to texts hahaaha, it's cute how he actually told her he thought it would be just them two going to Kazuki's concert. I also really liked how Enomoto helped Ichika to understand that Kazuki doesn't really hate her, he just thinks that she doesn't care about him or his dream, and that's understandable since she's so busy. It became obvious that the crazy one was Hana but I didn't think she would ruin Isshiki's concert considering she's such a big fan of him. But yeah, I really admire Isshiki for being able to pick himself up after losing his big chance at debuting because of Fujii's mistaken arrest, it was also nice to know that Fujii really regretted his actions and sent many letters to apologise for ruining his dream at that time. My heart really hurt for Enomoto having to hear that Fujii begged for his life but Hana happily tortured him to death. It was just so heartbreaking. I honestly can't take it when I hear or hear about people say they don't want to die, it always makes me cry. I can totally feel Enomoto's rage, so I'm glad Ichika was there to remind him of his justice, just like how he was there to remind her to keep calm about Kazuki being a hostage.

LOL I kept missing the trigger for trigger mode because I had no idea where I was supposed to aim for, I had to Google and find out that it's the bold outer red ring lol. Sorry Enomoto for missing so many times lmao. Anyway, Saeki's "last words" do make it seem like he's the Adonis guy who got her caught up in all this with the collar, but at the same time Akito seems like he knows something too? As for Hana, is she being controlled or brainwashed or something? Well, it's okay, I'm just glad that Kazuki and Ichika can finally talk a bit more and have each other both realise that they both do care for each other and were just jealous of what each other had that the other didn't (Ichika was jealous that Kazuki was smart and their parents had expectations of him, whereas for her, they didn't seem to care, but at the same time, Kazuki was jealous of the freedom Ichika had to become a cop like she wanted to). It makes me wonder though, is Adonis actually made up of a bunch of dissatisfied cops? I love how frank Ichika and Enomoto are with each other, it was so cute how they were arguing about how nice Enomoto was being hahaha. I loved it so much when he said she was the best partner he could ever ask for, my heart melted. I also loved how he reassured her about Saeki, since they're police and putting their life on the line for the people they protect is something they all understand. Lmao when Enomoto was so proud that Ichika called him Mineo and wanted to stay as the only one Ichika calls by first name hahaha, he's so silly.

I was wondering what led to the mistaken arrest with Isshiki and Ogata, and omg, that's honestly pretty saddening. I feel more sorry for Ogata though, his life literally fell apart with him losing his job and family when all he did was try to stop the drunk guy from going crazy harassing Isshiki, and then he tried to stop the guy from suiciding but was mistakenly seen to have pushed him. That's bad, especially since what made Ogata admit to his guilt was basically pressure and stress from dealing with it all, and the reputation of Fujii and his testimony made those who handled the case further biased into thinking Isshiki and Ogata really did it. Like, at least for Isshiki, it may have been a chance of a lifetime but he still has people around him who believe in him, but who does Ogata have? It was surprisingly easy to get Ogata to talk, but it's not like he's a professional killer considering he's driven by revenge... Anyway lmao when Sasazuka got some info that would help Mineo but said he didn't do it for him, and Mineo called him a tsundere hahhaha. Anyway, I loved Mineo's confession, it just felt so sincere, sweet and full of affection and care for Ichika, I was super happy for her~ I wonder if Akito was going to join Adonis but decided not to because he realised that if Adonis continued, then Kazuki's dreams would be destroyed (since Shinjuku would be in chaos). I think Ichika personalising her reasons for wanting to stop Adonis other than the killing is wrong thing helped Akito put into perspective that not only are their actions wrong, but also that what they're doing isn't helping people like Kazuki who are trying their best despite all the fear and murders in this city. I assume that the bomb that someone told the police to disarm was related to Akito then. Anyway, I wanted to say Mineo was silly for playing right into Ogata's hands by punching him and stuff, but Mineo is right, even with Ichika's support, this isn't something he can just magically get over especially when it comes to Fujii. Blame the bad guy and not the victim! Otherwise, I'm soo happy with Kazuki and Ichika's relationship right now, they're so cute, I love how he's really helping to encourage her to just straight up tell Mineo her feelings and stop dilly-dallying haha. It was so hilarious when Mineo thought Ichika cooking for him and confessing to him was like a dream or something that's happening after death lmaoo, I'm glad she put him in his place and said it's disrespectful to her for saying that when she's trying so hard to tell him she likes him though haha.

Seeing Ichika and Mineo act as a couple is so cutee, and LOL when Mineo told Kazuki he can call him big brother now hahahahha. I really like Isshiki, I think his speech at the concert was really touching because you could feel how much he was hurt by the wrongful arrest, but at the same time you could feel how grateful he was to the police he originally hated. It doesn't mean he necessarily likes them again, but at least he understands that there are police like Ichika and them who are willing to sacrifice their lives for others and I think thanking them for that was really heartfelt and kind of him to do, especially considering what Ogata is saying on TV now. On the other hand, I really feel for Ogata because imo, he lost much more than Isshiki did. Isshiki may have lost a once in a lifetime chance for his dream, but he never lost himself. For Ogata, he lost everything that supported him as a person, his family, his job, probably his friends, but I think his biggest lost was his sense of justice and his principles. He must have always thought that as long as you do what you think is right, then justice will prevail, but from his wrongful arrest, it was proven untrue and I feel like that was probably what shattered him the most, the fact that what he believed in his whole life (as a person with a strong sense of justice) was a lie. Anyway, I like Minegishi, he's a pretty cool guy, rational and kind. Also glad Sasazuka worked with the police to get Ichika's collar off, I felt so relieved for her, and I loved how Mineo cried a bit after hearing it, he cares about her so much. Aww I really liked how Mineo staged that farce at the TV station to make Ogata realise for himself that the justice he seeks isn't really in the destruction he's trying to cause right now. Otherwise, it's kinda anti-climactic that the route just ended after that lol! It felt so random. But I did think it was cute how Mineo practically proposed to Ichika, and it was nice to see him go back to the police, I think he really belongs there. Adonis just giving up was random since I don't feel like Ogata or the collars were what made up the core of their being and values but whatever, can find that out in other routes. The tragic love ending was pretty sad, like I felt so bad for Ichika, but also for Mineo. Sad for Ichika that she lost what it meant to be a police officer for herself, and sad for Mineo that he thinks that he "ruined" her by making her decide that saving him was more important than the justice she and Mineo strove for together. It was pretty devastating to see Mineo try to tell her that they could get through this together but Ichika couldn't do it and just left, that was pretty heartbreaking. Seeing Ichika's indecision in other bad endings were pretty sad, I think they could have developed them better, especially the one where Mineo shot Ogata, but oh well, not important haha.

Overall, I really loved Mineo. Most of his route was great, but I do think the way they handled Ogata was more awkward than I liked since I feel like, they could have explored his pain better? Other than him repeating how his life was ruined by the police, you didn't really get much of his story from him aside from the fact that he was a guy who believed in justice, which was obvious, so I personally think if they did that better, Mineo could have understood him better too? Like, Isshiki was easier to understand because Kazuki's dream and respect for Isshiki helped to build on his character, but Ogata didn't have that. Anyway, those are probably my only gripes because omg Mineo was such a highlight. Honestly, I didn't expect much from Mineo because whenever anyone mentions this game, it's always about how great Sasazuka and Shiraishi are, but wow, I love Mineo SO MUCH. He never failed to make me smile and laugh throughout the entire route because he was such an earnest, wholesome and sweet guy. I loved how awkwardly he handled relationships and love (it's so cute to see the guy flustered instead every now and then), but it was also great to see how cool he could be when he expressed his thoughts and feelings to Ichika. I really enjoyed the two of them together because it really felt like a normal relationship where they both support each other, tell each other off and work things out together. I could really feel why and how Mineo came to appreciate Ichika, and I could feel why Ichika would fall for someone so cool yet silly. I liked how they dealt with Mineo's past and reasons for being the way he was as well, and I think that was the best part of the route, I really felt his anguish and torment over Fujii, and all his confusion over his beliefs and what he should do now, I absolutely loved all that. Definitely a touching, sweet but also heart-wrenching route, I don't know if the others can top this for me honestly but we shall see!

[zuholymama]

Kim Youngbin | The Escort

Chapter 4. / Onward

Warnings: -

Word count: 3989

Pairing: Youngbin x OC (female)

Featuring: Jaeyoon, Suho (EXO)

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3

===============================

Surrounded by darkness, his small feet run desperately. Water puddles splashing under his worn-out shoes, making noises that don’t comfort him at all for his fear blocks his hearings over his surrounding except for a chilling gruff voice.

“YOUNGBIN! GET THE FUCK BACK OVER HERE!”

Panting heavily, Youngbin doesn’t let that feral scream stops him. He doesn’t want to go back to that monster. He’s done with all of the pain. Tonight is about his life and death.

The road seems to be never-ending. He hopes to find anyone, any person to help him to get away. But it’s 2 AM in the middle of the night. Not many cars in Syracuse are going out and he doesn’t see any policemen standing around. The boy curses his fate. Could tonight possibly be the day when he will finally lose his life? His lungs are starting to giving up on him. The man chasing behind doesn’t slow down at all. Fear is the only source of his adrenaline rush; survival instinct is his only ally. Not too far from his position, he sees a gas station nearby. There is a crossroad ahead and the green light shows it’s okay to cross. Not like it matters to him if it doesn’t, the road is as empty as the fridge in his ‘home’.

“YOU LITTLE SHIT! YOU CAN’T ESCAPE FROM ME!”

That threatening scream is starting to get closer to him, yet it is drowned within the sound of his thumping heart and tired breaths that he doesn’t realize screeching wheels coming from his far left. The moment his little feet finally reach the other side of the road, oddly everything seems to change. He cannot hear that heavy boots again. He cannot hear that monstrous scream again. Little Youngbin thought his ears can only hear those two sounds, so when he wonders why it suddenly becomes silent, he dares to look behind to see what’s wrong.

A black car is there with his fear laying motionlessly covered in blood.

“…Dad…”

□□□

” …So my parents have been… involved in criminal activities?”

“Not directly, but yes.”

“And you and Suho are assassins from an orphanage that puts up a ballet theater as a disguise of their crimes and then sent out to protect me from my father’s mad business rival?”

The man merely nods. He doesn’t need to utter a word when she answered him like that, she gets everything.

“…I want to say that you were joking but considering what has happened for the past few hours, it’s enough to know that you’re not,” The woman lets out a long sigh that she has been holding on for too long, “Damn…”

Youngbin doesn’t dare to speak a word. After explaining everything to Junko, his throat feels like it’s dried up to the bone. He’s done the thing that he mustn’t do. Revealing the problem. However, it’s odd how the first thing he’s concerned with is the woman in front of him. He’s worried about her in a way that he can’t describe. Thinking about her first days in New York going downhill with the events from tonight brings him a pang of guilt. More so as a man who hates losing, Youngbin truly curses himself for failing his order.

“How did you know I was attacked?”

Her voice stops his train of thoughts like the thunder roaring outside of the rain. Fidgeting between his thumbs, Youngbin wonders if he should tell her the truth about this one.

“Youngbin?” Jun asks again. She’s starting to question his weird behavior.

Staring at the window that’s painted with rain drops, Youngbin’s mind wonders back into the time of the accident. “It was Jaeyoon,” he answers, “The doctor that you met in the bar.”

The woman blinks a few times in confusion. “Jaeyoon? But how come?”

“He called me soon after I dropped you off in the lobby. I was on my way back to report things,” his deep brown eyes never left the window and the rain, “He told me that they got Junm—I mean—Suho hyung. The man who tried to harm you before was tailing us when we drove back to the apartment.”

“What do you mean!? Is Suho okay!?”

“He got shot.” The statement brings out a loud gasp from Jun’s mouth. “Whether or not he’s okay, I will have to check up on him later. I hope he is.”

Biting the inside of her cheeks, Junko is trying her best to hold in her anger. Even with the whole explanation Youngbin gave her, she still feels like being left in the dark. “What the hell exactly happened after we left that bar, Youngbin?”

“Jaeyoon told us he saw someone had been watching us from the other side of the road. Me and Suho hyung wanted to take them out first before it becomes a problem. We agreed to part ways, I trusted him to go at it alone. Turns out it was a deliberate plan to separate him and me. It would be easier for them to kill us if I were alone to protect you.” The brunette sighs before he continues again, “Thankfully… Jaeyoon was there to help him. He is currently in Jaeyoon’s care.”

Junko’s frown hasn’t left her exhausted face. Knowing someone is actually hurt because of her, she doesn’t feel good about it. More over even though it’s hard for her to admit it, she’s already thought of Suho as her friend. Knowing a good person actually went out his way to protect her even though she knows it’s just his job, it doesn’t stop Junko from feeling that way. Right now, she feels conflicted of how she should feel. Everyone she cares about is involved with bad things. Because of that she’s involved as well even though she knew nothing about it.

“I’m sorry, Jun.”

That sudden apology snaps Junko out of her mind. “…What for?”

Biting his lip, Youngbin speaks slowly, “I’m sorry for hiding things from you and let harm befalls you,” he tightens his fist on the bed sheet, “I was careless. I promise it will not happen again. I will protect you.”

His determined eyes and calm voice put her in a trance. Jun can feel there is something more into those words. She doesn’t dare to assume but she knows the warmth of that promise is true.

“If anything happens, call your escort.”

That message rings even louder now than before.

□□□

Waking up from his nap on the couch, Youngbin sluggishly takes his phone by the table to see the time.

“4:00…” He mutters as his eyes squint from the bright screen.

Rubbing his eyes, the man walks lazily into the bathroom to wash his face. When the cold water hits him, Youngbin can feel it pulling out his sleepy consciousness away. The man feels reluctant to be awake. Yet, there is something more important he has to do while the woman he’s taking care of is fast asleep. Putting both of his hands by the table, the Iron Fist stares at his reflection on the mirror. The water that’s dripping from his bangs brings tiny echoes once it hits the ceramic sink. He needs to get himself together.

Walking out of the bathroom, Youngbin is checking Junko who’s sleeping soundly at the bed. He can see the blanket that’s hugging her going up and down. It seems like she’s sleeping well. Seeing that makes Youngbin unknowingly smiles. He’s glad to know she’s tired enough to be that deep in her slumber. Walking towards the table by the couch where he slept, he takes his bag and phone away and slings them on his back. When his attention goes to the window, he realizes that the rain has stopped.

After making sure he has brought everything, Youngbin walks back slowly towards the bed, afraid to make any sound that would wake the woman up. When he’s close enough to see her face, the man squats down to see her much more clearly.

“…Looking at you like this; I’ve never realized just how pretty you are…” He whispers silently that he hopes even God can’t hear him. Staring at her sleeping face in adoration, Youngbin can’t stop his calloused hand from brushing her falling strands of hair away from her cheek, “Sleep well, Jun. I’ll be back.”

With that, the Iron Fist stands back up and walks away towards the door. He needs to check up on his brother.

□□□

Parking his car by the sidewalk, Youngbin grabs his bag and then gets out and be greeted with cold night winds. The road is empty but the warm colored lights are still on to accompany him. Looking around his area, the man checks his surrounding to see if anyone follows him. His eyes are trained enough to see in the dark and he knows no one’s suspicious enough in his proximity. Walking to the alleyway beyond the sidewalk, it gets really wet under his feet. The sound of water splashing reminds him of a certain memory that he prefers not to call back at times like now. His brother is his number one concern.

Turning to the left, he sees a red rusty door on a brick-walled building. A single light flickers on top of it. He continues to briskly walking towards the door and then knocks exactly 5 times upon his reach. After several seconds, a small rectangle window on the door frame opens and reveal a pair of black-slit eyes. After confirming who’s his guest, the resident closes the window again and then follows with the sound of door unlocking. It reveals Jaeyoon in his white coat and duck slippers.

“How is he?” Youngbin immediately asks as he steps inside the house.

“The bullet shot through his shoulder, but he’s fine,” The doctor explains as they continue to walk briskly through the corridor, “If I wasn’t there to shoot the guy first it would’ve been his heart.”

They both soon arrive inside a dim-lit room. It’s spacious enough to hold 2 beds and a bookcase that is filled with bottles and documents. A table is visible with surgical tools. They appear to be used recently, a proof of the doctor has been treating a man in his house. Youngbin sees someone is sleeping on the bed by the wall. Recognizing the pants they’re wearing, Youngbin is sure that person is his brother.

Walking closer towards the bed to confirm, Youngbin can finally see the face he’s been expecting. His brother, Junmyeon, is sleeping soundly. The injured man’s topless torso is covered with bandages. His breathing looks to be a little ragged, but that is the side effect of suppressing the pain.

“Oh, thank goodness…” Youngbin sighs as he closes his eyes, “Jaeyoon, thank you so much.” He adds.

“You are welcome, old friend.” Jaeyoon smiles, “I gave him enough pain killer to help him sleep. But I’m afraid he’s not going to be able to fight for awhile.”

“That’s alright. I can handle the rest. Jun’s staying with me until the work is done, I won’t let her attend her college. Junmyeon hyung’s role isn’t needed anymore.”

“I see…” Jaeyoon nods in acknowledgement. Wanting to speak more, the dark-haired doctor hisses, feeling bad about the thing he’s going to say, “By the way, Youngbin. I really hate to ask of this to you, but—”

“I know, Jaeyoon. I came prepared.” The Iron Fist cuts him first to save his friend from the discomfort. He opens his brown bag to pull out a gold coin. The same one that he used in The Continental, “Here.” He says as he gives the coin.

“Thanks,” Jaeyoon grins and takes the coin from his friend’s calloused hand, “You know what the adjudicator would do to me tomorrow if he knows I saved your best pal without this.” He sighs as his hand move that coin around as if it’s nothing but trouble.

Youngbin merely chuckles, knowing well what would happen if that scenario does come true. It’s not pretty that’s for sure.

“Make sure he’s staying here until he’s well enough. Knowing that idiot, he would still try to go even when he can’t wear his own shoes.”

“You bet.” Jaeyoon grins. His deep dimples show deeply under the dim light. “Where are you going after this?”

“The Bowery.”

□□□

Fluttering her eyes open, Junko can see the morning light’s seeping through the curtain. Her eyes are still heavy but her brain is telling her to wake up now. Stretching her legs under the soft blanket, she turns her back away from the window and tries to go back to her peaceful slumber again. If anyone could see her now, no one would expect what happened to her night. It appears like when it comes to sleep, Junko doesn’t let anything disturb her.

Yet something does bother her. Turning her head to see the couch by the window, she realizes her escort isn’t there.

“Youngbin?” She tries calling out.

The bathroom seems to be empty as well. There’s no sound of water running. Thinking perhaps the man is going out alone on his own, Junko only sighs and then goes back to her sleep. She’s not that worried, perhaps too lax for her current situation. But she can’t help it. When it comes to sleep, her mother needed to drag her foot out of the bed once to get her to school. However, it isn’t only about her drowsiness. She believes he will come back to her.

Starting to slowly doze off back to her dreamland, suddenly she’s woken up by a door unlocking by itself. Her mind jumps out on alert. Her eyes that were heavy are now open to see who’s coming in.

“Where did you go…?” Junko asks lazily. But her mouth hangs open in confusion when she sees the one who’s coming in isn’t her companion, “Who are you?”

Wholly stepping inside then closes the door behind them, the unknown person answers with a sweet smile.

“Good morning, Junko. The name’s So Ra. I’m Youngbin’s friend from Ruska Roma. Nice to meet you.”

Feeling dumbfounded, Junko sits upright to process her morning better. A stranger woman in red hoodie walks uninvited inside. And then she’s claiming to be her guardian’s friend? Where is Youngbin? She can’t just trust her out of the blue. That So Ra can just be anyone. The Continental is a place where Youngbin said all criminals are not allowed to attack each other. What if this woman is one of those people who’s after her head?

“Where is Youngbin?” Jun sternly asks. Her knitted eyebrows show that she’s not feeling friendly right now.

“I can’t tell you where he is right now, but feel free to call him to confirm about me.” So Ra replies, still standing by the door. She won’t walk another step unless she’s sure Jun can trust her.

Cautiously taking up the stranger’s offer, Jun picks up the phone by the nightstand. Her deep brown eyes don’t leave So Ra just yet, afraid that the woman in ponytail would do something funny. Searching for Youngbin’s name in her recent calls, she then finds it on top of the list and calls him immediately. It only takes her two rings before the man picks it up.

“Where are you!?” Jun rises her voice out of fear, “I woke up and you’re not here. Why did you leave!?”

There’s a pause greeting her instead of his warm voice. Jun almost lashes out again but the moment she opens her mouth, that voice answers her. “Hey Jun, I’m sorry I didn’t want to wake you up. There’s something I gotta do to track Doyle. How’s your sleep?”

“Are you serious? You’re asking me that right now?” The woman’s annoyed with his indifferent attitude, but a part of her feels soft towards his attentive personality, “Where are you, Youngbin?” she sighs.

“Central Park. Anyway Jun, is someone named So Ra currently with you?”

“Right! That’s why I’m calling you! Who is she?”

“Relax, she’s not our enemy. Can you turn on the speaker for me?”

“Ugh…” Pulling away the phone, she turns on the speaker as she stares at the stranger who’s still standing idly—and whistling? The nerve! “…It’s on.” She begrudgingly says.

“Hey, So Ra.”

“’Sup Youngbin. A little help to persuade her would be nice.” The woman in red chuckles.

“Jun, So Ra is my friend from Ruska Roma. She’s there as a backup in case Suho hyung got hurt. I visited him this morning at Jaeyoon’s and he’s in no condition to protect you. So Ra will be his replacement to help me.”

“I-I see…” The light-haired woman mutters feeling a little relieved, “If you say so, Youngbin. Just… please come back.”

Another silence comes. The worried woman thought the line got disconnected, but hearing the sound of cars going by from where Youngbin is seems to tell her that isn’t the case.

“Youngbin?” Junko calls again.

“O-oh, yeah. I’ll be back, don’t worry. You’re safe with So Ra.”

“But you will still come back right?”

“…I will, Jun. You’re still my responsibility.”

“…Okay. I’ll be waiting. Be safe, don’t do anything reckless.”

“I can’t promise you that but I’ll try.” Youngbin chuckles in amusement. If his client were to ask his friends in the orphanage, he bets she would be surprised by how much he’s doing the opposite is in a fight. “Alright, make sure to eat breakfast downstairs with So Ra. Don’t go alone. I’ll be off. See you later, Jun.”

“Mm. See you later.” Turning off her phone, Junko sighs. She looks back towards So Ra who’s looking back at her with a friendly smile, hoping Junko can accept her to protect her. Jun closes her eyes and then nod with a smile. That’s enough confirmation for the other woman to finally walks further inside the room and sits down comfortably on the bed.

“Hungry?” So Ra asks as she tilts her head.

“Very.”

□□□

Putting his phone away to his jacket, Youngbin looks around his surroundings as he sits on the wooden bench with a coffee. There are a lot of families hanging out here, pigeons flying, kids playing balls and kites, it’s a lively public space. He’s a bit jealous of their ignorance. He wishes he could have that much spare time right now, preferably with Jun, considering his brief conversation just now. Pulling out a piece of paper from his jeans, Youngbin takes a look at the hasty hand writing on it.

Central Park, 8:10 AM, wooden bench on the south side near the trash can.

He lifts up his left wrist to check his watch. It’s 5 minutes before the designated time. Sipping his coffee to wash away his drowsiness, Youngbin continues to look at the scenery to see any sign of person he’s supposed to meet now.

“Iron Fist?” A sudden female voice from behind surprises him too much that he almost takes out his gun. But before he can, the friendly smiling face that’s greeting him stops him from doing so.

“Did Bowery King send you?”

Walking to the front of the bench, the black woman sits down comfortably before she introduces herself, “Yes. My codename is Nightingale. Nice to meet you, Iron Fist.”

“Just Youngbin is fine.”

“I’m afraid it doesn’t feel professional to me. Please bear with my code of courtesy.” She answers still with the same smile.

“If you say so.” The Iron Fist shrugs.

“Thank you for your understanding. Here is the address that you’re looking for,” Nightingale says as she gives him a piece of paper and some photos. There’s a cursive hand writing on the paper, spelling the place of his target. “A lone penthouse in 990 Fifth Avenue. You should be able to get there in 20 minutes from here. Charles Doyle is currently renting the place to keep an eye on your client. Be aware of the guards outside. He tightened up the security since last night.”

“He’s scared of what’s coming to him.” Youngbin darkly chuckles. He feels honored with his target’s countermeasure. That shows the guy is taking him seriously. “Is he currently there?”

“Yes he is. He goes to work on 10 AM.”

“Alright,” Youngbin puts the pieces of information in his pocket, “Thank you for your valuable information Miss Nightingale. I’ll be on my way.” Standing back on his feet, Youngbin walks back towards his car still with the warm coffee in his hand. Sipping it once more, he licks his lips and then silently smirks. Charles Doyle is gonna end today.

After going through the traffic, he’s finally arrived on the marker on his navigation. As soon as the penthouse is visible, Youngbin slowly pushes the brake to park behind the trees. The penthouse is going uphill. From where he is, he can see there’s a lot of men in suits walking around the perimeter. After making sure he got his gun and ammos ready, Youngbin checks his bag again to pull out a set of white bandages.

When he goes to fight, the brunette feels naked without them. These bandages are a part of him. They may be thin and lacking the necessary protection like gloves, but the warrior wouldn’t want it any other way. Before he steps outside of the car, Youngbin ties the bandages around his hands, making sure it’s not too tight but enough to make them feel secure. Using his teeth to tie the last knot on his right wrist, the assassin is ready to go.

“Let’s do this.” He speaks to himself, his eyes are filled with determination.

□□□

“So… you’re a ballerina?” Jun asks as she puts a piece of sausage inside her mouth.

“Mmhm. In Ruska Roma the girls have to learn the art of ballet.” So Ra answers with a shrug.

“Is it tough? The training?”

“Hellish.” So Ra shakes her head as she puts down her cup of tea, remembering a nasty incident during her first month, “Had to pluck my fucking toe’s nail due to the rigorous training.”

“No way…”

“I think every girls in there went through the same thing. But, in the end we all just call it tough love.” The girl in red chuckles to hide her pain, “Mother used to tell us that ‘art is pain and life is suffering’.”

“…I don’t think that’s true.” Jun sadly mutters out loud, her eyebrows creased in disagreement.

“It is Jun, if you desire perfection.” So Ra sighs, she understands the sentiment behind Junko’s comment. But her client who is newly introduced into this whole crime underworld needs to know that their world is different, that way of naïve thinking is something foreign, undesirable. “And for Mother, mistake is unacceptable.”

“…But Youngbin said I wasn’t supposed to know about this whole problem. What’s gonna happen to you?” Jun asks worriedly.

“Well,” So Ra grins as she leans back on her seat, sighing after imagining what’s going to happen to them, her included, “You don’t need to worry about that. What matters the most is to kill the guy that’s been targeting you and keeping you safe.”

Telling her not to worry is just doing the opposite to her. She shudders to think of the worst case scenario that could happen to So Ra and Youngbin, possibly even Suho. She hates to put them into more trouble than they’re already in for her. More than this, Junko doesn’t think she can take it.

Oblivious from their attention, a man far away from the dining room sees them sitting together and exchanging carefree laughs. His hand picks up his phone to take a picture, a proof for him to keep and spill towards someone he knows would be not amused with the situation.

To be continued

[thetailorofenbizaka]

Chapter 1–The Tale of the Scissors, Act 3: Reunion; Scene 2

The Tailor of Enbizaka, pages 74-82

I don’t know why Kayo would say things like that. I had thought perhaps that you might have pulled some trick on her mind, but I still haven’t reached a conclusion at that.

The only thing I’m certain of is the event that spurred her on to start talking like her husband was alive.

--That was hardly any time at all after the two of you had swapped bodies.

That day, Kayo was going for an aimless walk outside for the first time in a while, without any work to do.

She had likely wanted to go around and see the sights of Enbizaka after it had recovered from the fire.

.

Enbizaka was erected along a long hill in the center of Onigashima, and a lot of the people who worked as merchants in Onigashima had shops set up along this hill neighborhood.

Almost all of the people who lived here were foreigners, or else mixed-race people who had foreign and Jakokuan genes.

What was more, there were not a lot of people among those who were walking along the road who had the Jakokuan feature of black hair. People with hair of various colors and shades like red, brown, green, and even white, passed through as though it was normal.

And so, Kayo’s newly pink hair was not something that turned a lot of heads.

The most conspicuous sign of Enbizaka’s foreigner culture were the foreign trading houses that stood at the top of the hill.

Starting with those of Freezis and Yarera, there were many representatives for firms doing business with Jakoku who had taken up residence in Enbizaka.

A little way away from the trading houses there was the Enbizaka execution site.

It’s said that this place was created as a sort of warning, as the crimes being committed by foreigners in Onigashima were rapidly increasing around the time the island was first established. Even now criminals would sometimes be taken there from the mainland to be executed, but for Kayo this place had very little to do with her.

As she walked down the hill, Kayo gazed at the neighborhood that had regained the same liveliness that it had held four years before, and wore a peaceful expression on her face.

When she reached the bottom of the hill, there was Soukyou bridge.

Once you passed over this curved bridge made of stone and headed down the middle road from there, there was the Miroku shop that sat just along the street. This was the only bridge that connected Enbizaka to the middle road, and as such there were always a lot of people passing through.

It was right after she’d set foot on Soukyou bridge.

Kayo suddenly came to a stop.

Her eyes were opened wide, and she was fixedly staring at a blue haired man on the far end of the bridge.

At that moment, he was leaning on the handrail and looking at the river dreamily, not appearing to notice that Kayo was staring.

“Ah…Aaah…”

Kayo stood there for a time, open-mouthed.

And as she did so the man started to quickly walk in the opposite direction from where she was.

Kayo flusteredly moved to chase after him, but his form was soon buried in the throng of people, and eventually she could no longer see him,

Mournfully coming to a halt, Kayo then murmured, “He’s—alive.”

Kayo must have seen a trace of her dead husband in this man that she’d never met before—that was what I thought at the time.

Because it was after this event had happened that Kayo started to speak to everyone as though her husband had survived.

However…from what I could see, that blue haired man looked hardly anything like Kayo’s husband.

If I had to come up with any similarities, I suppose I could say that his left hand had burn scars on it that were similar to those on Kayo’s husband.

.

I became curious about that man, and started to search for his whereabouts.

While being inside the scissors I am able to see all of Enbizaka, and as such it wasn’t that difficult for me to locate him.

--When I first found him, he was inside that Freezis Trading House.

He was in the middle of having some conversation with the house’s owner, Perrier, sitting opposite her at the table.

“It’s rare to SEE YOU come here YOURSELF,” Perrier laughed, offering him some tea.

“Oh no, it’s really quite embarrassing...I usually leave all outside matters to my wife, staying cooped up at home with work, you see. Today she’s been a little under the weather, so I’ve come to deliver our goods in her stead,” the man replied, smiling.

From the way he carried himself, I could tell that he was a merchant of some kind.

“She SICK? You must WORRY.”

“Oh no, it’s nothing terribly major. My wife’s father works as a doctor, so he examined her and told us it was just a cold. She should be better by tomorrow.”

“Thank GOODNESS for THAT!” As she spoke, Perrier set out a bundle of koban coins before him. “…RIGHT, well, HERE’S PAY.”

“Thank you kindly. I’ve already placed the textiles and kimono you ordered in your cellar. –I hope for your continued patronage.”

“Jakoku kiminos are having BOOM in Maistia RIGHT NOW! And you REALLY HELP OUT by bringing us such GOOD PRODUCT all the time, MIROKU SHOP-SAN! …Though wish you could increase amount you DEAL with us...” Perrier groused, resting her chin on her hands.

“…Even this amount has been a bit much for us. Understand that with our national isolation policies, the amount of resources we’re allowed to send to foreign countries like this is harshly regulated.”

“The shogunate should stop being so STUBBORN and OPEN COUNTRY already! I SAYING THAT for YEARS but they NOT LISTEN!”

In contrast to Perrier’s excitement, the man replied with a warm smile, “I know your feelings, Perrier-sama…But foreigner though you are, calling for this country to ‘open its borders’…I wonder if that’s wise.”

“…? WHY?”

“There is an extremist group in Jakoku called the ‘Crimson Robed Masses’.” The man launched into an explanation of this group with a quiet countenance. “They engage in all kinds of harassment for those that call for open borders and the foreigners that live in Jakoku, and I’ve heard that from time to time they’ve even gathered together and committed raids. If you were to attract the attention of such a crew—”

“Oh, I KNOW about THEM. Been sent LOTS of threats. …BUT! I IGNORE them! A Freezis does not YIELD to mere THREATS!”

“I see—well, I’m not too far removed from the issue myself, as my wife and I have foreign ancestry…But in any case, I hope to be able to maintain good business dealings with the Freezis Foundation Firm in the future. If you have any requests, don’t hesitate to let me know.”

Perrier appeared to think for a moment at the man’s offer, and then returned, “If there nothing to do about not raising textile and kimino export number...As for request, we NEED craftsman who can tailor clothes to kimono locally, and repair tattered and torn kimono. We have tailors in Maistia, but they don’t know ANYTHING about Jakoku kimono, and all FUMBLING at everything.”

“Regarding tailors…ours is just a family-run shop, so it would be a bit beyond us to send someone of those talents to Maistia--

“…I hear THERE other GOOD TAILORS in ENBIZAKA. I met one MYSELF a bit ago—I THINK my MAID called her SUDOU.”

The man appeared to think for a moment, and then finally replied, “Ah, yes, the Sudou wi—”

“You know HER?”

“Oh no, apparently my parent and her parent were once good friends long ago, but the two of them got into some sort of feud…The connection between our families has been severed since then, publicly. My wife doesn’t know about all this, and will sometimes ask her to do work, but I’ve never actually met her myself.”

“I SEE.”

“Well, a dispute between our parents has little to do with me, of course. I myself am a homebody by nature, so it’s more that I just haven’t had the opportunity to meet her.”

“I thought MAYBE if you GOOD FRIENDS you could introduce us, but from SOUND OF THINGS that be hard.”

“I believe she gets along fairly well with my wife, so you ought to ask her about it next time she comes up here—oop, look at the time,” the man said, taking a glance at an ostentatious clock of foreign make that had been hung up on the wall. “I should head back before long.”

“RIGHT. I SHOULD head to PORT soon too.”

“Are you sailing off again? It’s awfully late…”

“It’s MERMAID! I go CATCH MERMAID!”

“…Oh, a mermaid, hm? I suppose I have heard legends that there is a mermaid living in the seas around Onigashima, but—”

“I HEAR that you EAT MERMAID and become IMMORTAL! If we CATCH AND RAISE IT, it’ll make killing on mainland! I not let such DRAMATIC business chance SLIP AWAY!” Perrier shouted, having at some point gotten an enormous harpoon around and in her hand.

“…Well then, good luck with that. I’ll see myself out.”

The man left the trading house, a faintly amazed expression on his face.

.

From there the man headed down the hill. At that point I had already pretty much figured out who he was, but I continued to observe him.

After he had descended the hill and crossed Soukyou Bridge, he advanced through the middle road—and then walked inside the Miroku shop.

“Welcome home, Daddy.”

Rin was the one to greet him.

“Good to see you, Rin. How is Mommy?”

“She’s still resting, but I think she’s got a lot better.”

“I see…Where has Miku gone?”

“Mnn…She’s still at Kiji-san’s, I think.”

The moment he heard that, the man’s face rapidly grew stern. “That disgusting foreigner…I expressly forbid you from ever interacting with that brute!”

“Yelling at me’s not gonna help…And I don’t think Kiji-san is that bad a guy?”

“No means no!”

As he yelled in anger, the man retreated further into the shop.

.

The man’s name was Miroku Kai.

He was the head of the Miroku household.

That meant that Kayo had become convinced that a man with a wife and children was her husband—

But I had no way of telling Kayo that she was mistaken.

The only thing I could do was continue to watch over her.

<<prev------directory------next>>

[crazy-little-cool-cat]

Hand in Glove - Chapter 30 | Ben Hardy x OFC

A/N: Wow, y’all! We did it! We’re at the last Hand in Glove chapter! What a ride it’s been, am I right? Enjoy this one. I tried to tie off most of the loose ends, buuuuuuut you know how I am. Expect the unexpected. There might be a sequel after Gold Digger’s done. 

Warnings: fluff that’ll rot your teeth and the usual stuff. 

Word count: who gives a duck?!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2,  Chapter 3,  Chapter 4,  Chapter 5,  Chapter 6,  Chapter 7,  Chapter 8,  Chapter 9,  Chapter 10,  Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14 , Chapter 15 , Chapter 16 , Chapter 17 , Chapter 18 , Chapter 19 , Chapter 20 , Chapter 21 , Chapter 22 , Chapter 23 , Chapter 24, Chapter 25 , Chapter 26, Chapter 27 , Chapter 28��, Chapter 29

Annie drove home on auto-pilot. Her mind felt like it’s sinking in quicksand. She's pregnant, again. She didn't plan to be pregnant, again. She needed to figure out how to tell Ben about it, again. This time was different, though. It wasn’t quite as scary as the last one. It wasn’t quite as upsetting. Deep down, it was actually exciting.

When she got home, she walked about in a daze, going from room to room. Trying to locate her partner in crime and his superhuman sperm cells. Passing by the glass doors to the back garden, she found him tossing a ball for Frankie to fetch and having a smoke.

She opened the glass doors and caught his attention. He beamed at her, looking over his shoulder.

"I'm pregnant."

"That's nice," Ben said, almost robotically, tossing the ball and watching Frankie chase after it. "Wait, what?"

"I'm pregnant," Annie repeated, "my eggo is preggo, Ben."

"As in, pregnant? Pregnant?" Ben stared at her. The cigarette fell from between his fingers. “Is it mine?”

"Of course it's yours, you wanker!"

"But you -" Ben started and stopped. " - and the -"

"Yeah, it turns out I'm one of the 0.8% it doesn't work for."

"Is it... it is still up there?"

"No. Dr. McCarthy took it out."

"How far along -"

"8 weeks."

"You're not pulling my leg?" Ben felt dizzy. Weak. "You're not taking a sick piss?"

"I'm pregnant, Ben." Annie started to smile and took his hand. She placed it right under her bellybutton. "Your almighty, ultra-strong, wicked swimmers are unstoppable."

###

"You're wearing jewelry now?" Joe snickered and pointed at Ben's hand. "Did Hollywood affect you that much?"

Ben looked down at his hand and smiled. With Annie at work and Rory at daycare, he told the boys to come over to his house. It was time for him to break the news, now that they were back, well-slept and no longer jet-lagged.

"Oh, this ring has nothing to do with Hollywood," Ben smirked, "could one of you text Rami and see where he is? Anyone fancy a beer?"

Gwilym and Joe exchanged confused looks at Ben's fussiness and nodded. Ben was visibly nervous or excited about something and they could tell. Right from the moment he greeted them at the door.  

"Help yourselves, gentlemen," Ben placed two six-packs on the living room coffee table and opened his own beer bottle. He bounced his knee as the three waited for Rami to join them. They busied themselves with idle chit-chat. They tried holding press-tour stories off for when all four will be present. When the doorbell finally rang, Ben sprung to his feet and almost ran for the door.

"Right, so of course I want to hear all about the press tour," Ben started as Rami sat down with his own beer bottle. "I have to break some serious news first."

"Oh... kay..." Rami glanced sideways at Joe as he took a sip from his beer.

"Annie and I got married."

The silence was deafening. You could hear a pin drop. Rami, Gwilym, and Joe stared at Ben, frowning and blinking.

"Did you lace this beer with something?" Gwilym finally asked.

"Nope." Ben tried to keep a serious expression on his face as he raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. He pointed at his ring finger with the other hand. "See? Wedding ring."

"When you say 'Annie and I got married'," Gwil scratched at his bearded chin, "what do you mean, exactly?"

"We're legally married." Ben rephrased his previous statement. "Went through the whole process, jumped through all the hoops. Brian, Roger and Jamie were our witnesses."

"When?" Gwil cocked his head.

"Three weeks ago."

"Was it on a whim?" Joe looked hurt. "Did you just decide to elope, just like that?"

"No. We planned it, very carefully."

"And you told no one because...?" Rami's beer-holding hand hovered halfway to his mouth.

"Annie insisted on it."

"Huh." Gwilym leaned back and rubbed his thighs. "That's..."

"A lot." Rami mused.

"We're also pregnant again." Ben blurted out and busied his mouth with his beer bottle again.

"He totally laced this with something," Joe announced and leaned forward. Anger etched on his features. "What the actual fuck did you just say?!"

"Calm down, Joe." Gwilym said and put a hand on Joe's shoulder.

"We're pregnant. Well, Annie is."

"What do you mean, she's pregnant?" Rami laughed nervously.

"Well, Rami," Ben smirked, "when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much -"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" Joe's hands flailed.

###

"And cut! We got it!!!"

Annie slumped her shoulders and stopped weeping, relieved that she didn’t have to run through the whole scene again.

Anne, her character, apprehended and jailed in the Tower of London, listened to the accusations against her. Upon hearing the long list of men who testified against her - one of which was her own brother - she broke down. The scene drained Annie and took 12 takes to get right. She felt dehydrated, puffy and very, very tired.

"You're pregnant?"

The entire set fell silent, all looking from Clara to Annie in utter shock. A lighting fixture creaked as it swung back and forth. An intern dropped a script to the floor. The thud reverberated around the large space.

Annie stared at her best friend, gobsmacked.

"Annie, you're pregnant and you didn't tell me?" Clara stomped over to her, eyes shooting daggers. Her costume rustling as she skipped over carefully camouflaged cords. "The secret wedding - fine, it's whatever. But this?!"

"Clara, this isn't the time nor the place to -" Annie stammered out, feeling her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Fuck that!" Clara snapped. "Annie, what the hell?"

###

"So there will be an actual wedding?" Gwilym verified for the fifth time.

"Yes!" Ben groaned. "God!"

"And baby number two is due in...?"

"30 weeks."

"Wow." Rami fiddled with the label on his beer bottle.  "Wow."

"Yeah." Joe huffed. "Big wow."

Ben's cheeks flushed crimson red. He felt like his parents were cross with him for being naughty. He didn't know if this was just shock or actual outrage at that point. He raked his fingers through his blond mop of hair, feeling quite ashamed.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys sooner." Ben almost mumbled. "It's been really hard to keep everything secret. I almost spilled the beans three times. I wanted you guys to be in on it but -"

"But the Supreme Leader had other plans." Joe shook his head. "I get it. I'm fucking pissed, man, but I get it."

"We are happy for you, you know." Rami pursed his lips. "Just... overwhelmed with all the news."

"How did your parents take it?" Gwilym wondered.

"We told them the next day." Ben recounted. "They were confused at first, not sure if we're kidding or not. Then, they were angry with me for hiding it and doing it like... that. The pregnancy reconciled them. They're over the moon."

###

"10 weeks?" Clara barked, pacing back and forth in Annie's trailer. "Ten whole bloody weeks?!"  

"Yep." Annie pursed her lips and nodded sheepishly. "Ten whole weeks."

"Annie, why?" Clara stopped, planting her hands on her hips. "Why aren't you telling me anything anymore? And let me guess-” Clara’s upper lip curled in a menacing snarl, “ -Jamie knew all along!"

"Actually he didn't," Annie interjected. "You kind of announced it to the world with your little outburst on the set."

"Why would you keep secrets from me?" Clara's voice sounded almost whiney. "We're best friends since... forever!"

"Because these are the things I needed to not jinx, okay?" Annie explained, subconsciously resting a hand on her belly. "I know it's just superstition but ill-wishers are -"

"God, Annie!" Clara groaned. "Fuck the ill-wishers! Fuck you as well!

Pounding on Annie's trailer door interrupted the two. Clara marched over and opened it, quickly pushed aside by Mike and Jamie.

"You've got some explaining to do." Mike pointed at her.

###

Anne Boleyn prepared herself for this - her execution - multiple times. The Hangman of Calais's arrival was pushed back due to weather and travel conditions. She joked with her ladies in waiting, earlier on in the day, talking about her little neck. Keeping up appearances. The show must go on!

She stepped onto the scaffold on the morning of May 19th, 1536. Escorted by Sir William Kingston, her jailer, Anne left the Tower's royal palace for the last time. The same place she slept in right before her coronation. Her crimson outfit trimmed with ermine, she made sure everyone present knew her status. Her reason for dying. She clasped her hands and took a step forward.

“Good Christian people,” Anne started shakily, “I have not come here to preach a sermon. I have come here to die." Anne took a shaky breath and squared her shoulders. "For, according to the law and by the law, I am judged to die," her voice carried as the crowd listened silently."And, therefore, I will speak nothing against it."

The crowd was mute as they solemnly listened to their Queen speaking her final words.

"I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak of that whereof I am accused and condemned to die," Anne looked at the peoples' faces. "But I pray: God save the King and send him long to reign over you!"  

A small smile tugging at Anne’s lips as she watched the memories play out in her mind’s eye. "For a gentler, nor a more merciful prince was there never, and to me he was ever a good, a gentle, and sovereign lord." Pausing, she looked up at the sky, for one last time. "And if any person will meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best." A tear rolled down her cheek, quickly brushed away. "And thus, I take my leave of the world and of you all, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me.”

Anne kneeled at the scaffold. Distracting her and making her look away from him and his sword, the executioner beheaded the queen with one stroke.

"And cut! That's a wrap!"

Annie heaved a sigh of relief and felt her hands shaking as she clutched at her little baby bump, almost showing. Her last scene is over. Greensleeves is finally finished.

Ben clapped furiously, hooting and hollering for his wife as she got up off the wooden scaffold. Her speech - Anne’s speech - although he had heard it more than a hundred times at that point had still managed to wring his heart and guts. It never ceased to amaze him how Annie and Anne sort of merged together. One mixing in with the other. Annie’s vows echoed in his ears. ‘I will kill for you and die for you.’

‘Oi, Jones!” Annie snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Earth to Jonesy!”

“You were amazing up there.” Ben smiled and wrapped his arms around her. “Breathtaking.”

“Let’s go celebrate!” Annie beamed up at him. “There’s cake!”

“Shall we, then,” Ben bend his arm and waited for Annie to hook hers with his, “my lady Greensleeves?”

###

Other than the odd work-related trip and appearance, Ben and Annie were honeymooning at home. They watched Annie’s baby bump, Pookie, grow. They watched Rory learn how to walk, talk. Turn into a tiny little human.

Annie laid back on the sofa, her head in Ben’s lap. His fingers idly twirled locks of her hair as they watched whatever was on the telly. Grateful to have the house for themselves. Learning every curve and edge of each other’s body after dropping Rory off at daycare. Nesting and preparing a bedroom for Rory and remodelling the nursery for the new baby.

“D’you think it’s a boy this time?” Annie wondered and looked up at her husband.

“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Do you want it to be?”

“I think so, yeah.” Annie looked down at her little bump. “Pookie, give us a hint.”

“Maybe there’s two -”

“Ben Jones, I will kill you.”

“I’m joking!” He laughed and tugged on her hair gently. “However many there are in there, I’ll love them.”

“What about names?” Annie started to sit up so she could turn around and face Ben. “Thought of any?”

“Well, Henry for a boy.” Ben shrugged.

“Really?” Annie snorted. “Henry?”

“Yes.” Ben nodded proudly. “Name fit for a king!”

“Right.”

“Why, do you have better ideas?” Ben scoffed.

“Richard.” Annie suggested. “Also a king.”

“Meh.”

“John.”

“John?” Ben looked at her as if she went mad. “John Jones?”

“Yes. Our little Jay Jay.” Annie cooed jokingly and nuzzled Ben’s nose with hers.

“Alexander.” Ben offered and rolled his eyes when Annie frowned. “What?!”

“We already have two A’s, Ben!” Annie pouted. “Annie. Aurora.”

“William.” Ben shrugged.

“Sounds to much like Gwilym.” Annie retorted. “What!”

“How?”

“Just - ugh! Not William.”

“Fine. Christopher?”

“Sounds like a Winnie the Pooh character. Christopher Jones.” Annie grimaced. “Peter?”

“No. Not Roger, either. Or Warren!”

“Mark?” Annie suggested.

“Might as well name it Galileo.” Ben scoffed. “Man, this better be a baby girl.”

###

Annie brushed her teeth before bed, happy to know that the baby’s heart is beating and there is only one of those beating hearts in her womb. She just finished rinsing when Ben entered the bathroom. He stood behind her as she bent over for the sink and held onto her hips.

“Seriously?” Annie looked up at him through the mirror, water dripping down her chin.

Ben bit his bottom lip and nodded slowly, cocking his head to the side as he examined her bum. Annie watched his reflection curiously. He gave her bum a light squeeze and rubbed it as if it were a crystal ball. Annie stood up straight and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I don’t know what it is, exactly,” Ben murmured and wrapped his arms around her waist, “but there is something about you that I just... “

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” Ben purred and leaned forward.

###

“Is he out?” Annie sobbed. “Is he okay? Is everything out?”

Whoever said that giving birth to the second baby is easy clearly lied. It all went down so fast. She didn’t have time for an epidural. She didn’t have time to even digest what was going on. One minute her water breaks, then wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, a human baby is introduced to the world.

“He’s out!” Ben beamed at his wife. “He’s out. Everything’s out. You did so well.”

“Ben, he tore me to pieces!” Annie violently wiped her tears away. “I’m hurting. I’m tired. I’m pissed the hell off. Stop smiling like that!”

“Annie, he’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” Ben ignored his wife’s rant and brushed stray locks of hair away from her forehead. “And you are my hero, Annabelle Lee-Jones. You are an absolute rockstar.”

Annie sobbed incoherently in response.

“There he is, mummy!” the nurse said as she brought over the bundle of wailing joy. “Your beautiful baby boy!”

Annie took the bundle in her arms and looked down, tears still pouring down. Ben chuckled and wiped her tears away from the baby’s cheeks.

“What’s your name?” Annie whispered at the baby. “Galileo?”

“Annabelle…” Ben had an impatient edge to his voice.

“Well, what are we naming him, then?” She asked, stroking the baby’s little head gently.

“Oliver?” Ben suggested. Annie mulled it over in her head. “Alfred.”

“Alfred?” Annie looked up at her husband.

“Yes. Alfred.”

“Where did that come from?”

“A great English king.” Ben raised one finger in the air. “Classic name.” Another finger. “He’s clearly an Alfie -”

“Alfie.” Annie repeated, a smile lighting up her face. “Our baby Alfie.”

###

Ben and Annie stepped onto the dance floor, holding hands. Their guests clapped, hooted and hollered - all cheering for them as they made their “official” debut as a married couple. The music started blaring through the speakers as Annie and Ben took their place in the middle of the floor and wrapped their arms around one another.

Me and Mrs. Jones; We got a thing goin'on...

They gazed into each other’s eyes, oblivious to the world around them. Joe held Rory in his lap, pointing at her parents and talking animatedly to keep her awake and happy. Gwilym cradled baby Alfie as he slept, gobsmacked by the baby’s ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime.

We both know that it's wrong; But it's much too strong To let it go now…

Annie chose to wear the same dress she did on her original wedding day, flower crown in her hair. Ben opted for the tux he wore at the Oscars. He pulled her closer and dipped her back. Annie threw her head back and laughed heartily, gracefully kicking one leg up in the air. He picked her up and kissed her as they swayed to the music.

We meet every day at the same cafe Six-thirty and no one knows she'll be there; Holding hands, making all kinds of plans While the jukebox plays our favorite songs…

Annie looked over to the side and saw Rory and Joe having a very heated discussion. She beckoned them over with her hands, smiling brightly. Joe asked Rory a question, making her eyes light up. They stood up and he put her down on the floor. She held onto one of his fingers as they walked on the dancefloor. He bowed deeply and made Rory burst in a fit of giggles before he picked her up again and swayed alongside her parents as he sang along to the song.

Me and Mrs. Jones We got a thing goin'on; We both know that it's wrong; But it's much too strong To let it go now...

Ben smiled at the rest of the guests and nodded his head, signaling it was okay to join them in their dance. Couples started flooding the dancefloor within minutes, all swaying and rocking to the smooth R’n’B song Annie and Ben chose for their first dance.

We gotta be extra careful That we don't build our hopes up too high; Because she's got her own obligations And so, and so, do I...

When they discussed their first dance song options, they got into such a fight that they almost called the whole thing off. Annie wanted Best of My Love, Ben wanted Love of My Life. It was actually Rami who suggested the most appropriate song for them -

Me and Mrs. Jones We got a thing goin'on We both know that it's wrong But it's much too strong To let it go now…

His logic behind it was flawless. The song practically described Annie and Ben’s journey through the relationship. How they tried to hide it at first, insisting there’s nothing serious happening. How they came to terms with their relationship status and were so very careful at first. How Rory had happened when caution was thrown to the wind.

Well, it's time for us to be leaving It hurts so much, it hurts so much inside Now she'll go her way and I'll go mine Tomorrow we'll meet The same place, the same time...

How heart wrenching their time apart from one another was. How hopeful they were. Counting down the days until Ben comes back to visit. How, even at their busiest, they always made time for themselves.

Me and Mrs. Jones We got a thing goin'on We both know that it's wrong But it's much too strong To let it go now...

###

“Mummy!” Rory ran over to the sofa with her favorite stuffed animal, followed by a yapping Frankie. “Mummy, Frankie did bad!”

Hand in glove The sun shines out of our behinds; No, it's not like any other love This one is different, because it's us...

Annie groaned internally and closed her eyes. Alfie was attached to her breast while she fed him, the house was a total chaotic mess, Ben was away at some Cognac launch and all she wanted to do was just scream and run away. She played her favorite album to keep herself happy and sane. There was something about The Smiths that made her feel… normal.

Hand in glove We can go wherever we please; And everything depends upon How near you stand to me...

“Rors, baby, Alfie’s -”

“Frankie did baaaad!” Rory’s voice rose in volume and octave.

“What did she bloody do?!” Annie asked, her patience all but lost.

“Took my Pupper!”

“You’re holding your Pupper and he looks fine.” Annie raised an eyebrow.

“Frankie bad!”

And if the people stare Then the people stare; Oh, I really don't know and I really don't care; Kiss my shades...

“No, Frankie good.” Annie patted the empty cushion next to her, inviting Rory in for a cuddle. “Rory, are you jealous of Alfie and mummy?”

“No.” Rory skulked.

“Rors…”

“Mummy…”

Hand in glove The good people laugh; Yes, we may be hidden by rags But we've something they'll never have...

“Tell you what.” Annie whispered. “When daddy gets home, we’ll have a whole day, just for ourselves. No boys allowed.”

“No boys?”

“None.”

Hand in glove The sun shines out of our behinds; Yes, we may be hidden by rags But we've something they'll never have...

The front door opened, making Rory stand up on the sofa expectantly.

“Uncle Joey?” Rory looked at Annie with sparkling eyes. “Uncle Gwilly?”

“Annie?” Ben’s voice boomed from the hall.

And if the people stare Then the people stare; Oh, I really don't know and I really don't care; Kiss my shades...

“Daddy!” Rory shrieked and scrambled off the sofa, doing a bee line for the hallway. “Daddy! Daddy!”

“There’s my girl!” Ben crouched down and let Rory crash into him. He picked her up and tossed her in the air, eliciting overjoyed squeals and shrieks. Her soft blonde curls bounced as she flew up in the hair and landed safely back in his arms. “Where’s Mum?”

So, hand in glove I stake my claim I'll fight to the last breath; If they dare touch a hair on your head I'll fight to the last breath; For the good life is out there somewhere, So stay on my arm, you little charmer...

“In here!” Annie called and winced when Alfie dug his nails into her boob. “Alfie’s eating!”

Ben stood at the doorway to the living room and blinked, gobsmacked. It looked like a tornado had run through, destroying and overturning everything in its’ path.

“Are you okay, Annie?” He asked.

“What? Yes, I’m fine.” Annie frowned. “Why?”

“Because it seems like we had a burglary going on while I was off.” Ben smirked.

“Oh, shove it!” Annie stuck her tongue out at him. “You try taking care of these two little ducks and see how far it gets you with housekeeping.”

“I know.” Ben put Rory down and sauntered over to the sofa, plopping down next to his wife. “I ducking love you. I don’t care about the mess.”

“Mess?” Rory chimed in. “I clean!”

“Oh, now you’ll clean?” Annie scoffed.

“I clean for daddy.” Rory huffed and went about tidying up and putting all her toys away.

“Don’t you never, ever leave me home alone again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

But I know my luck too well; Yes, I know my luck too well; And I'll probably never see you again; I'll probably never see you again...

##########

TAGLIST:  @ramibaby @xgoingdownx @qweenly @violetpond @sweeterthancheese @drummerqueenrmt @westansstuff @justgivemethekeys  @blondecarfucker @cheeseedreams47 @deacy-dearest @pinkmarvel @onceuponadetectivedemigod

[dearlazerbunny]

Lie to Me (Ch. 15 of 28)

Pairings: Loki x Reader

Genre/Ratings: M eventually (aiming for a slow burn here); warnings for kidnapping and subsequent anxiety/PTSD (will be marked before every chapter)

Words: 1900

Summary: If you had to guess what the captured, traitor, trickster god Loki Laufeyson wanted or needed at this moment, a babysitter would be far, far down on the list. (Set after the events of Avengers 1.)

SHOUTOUT TO @molmcb and @jessiejunebug, who are the best goddamn ego boosters a girl could ask for

Requested Tags: @deraniel, @iamverity,  @yasnooshka24, @wegingerangelica, @themusingsofmany, @dark-night-sky-99, @tarynkauai, @stuffandstuff-stuff, @angelicshinigami, @my-current-fandom-is, @geekysimmerthings

((So because I don’t know how to use tumblr I JUST realized that copying and pasting tags doesn’t automatically make them active... to my requested tag list, I am SO SORRY! Please forgive me! Also, surprise! Now you have a lot to binge read!))

On the fourth day you fail to visit, Loki lets himself begin to worry.

He wasn’t expecting you back right away, not after admitting just how much of a monster he actually is. But he’s come to have faith in you, to the point where even if you are going to reject him for his crimes- he wouldn’t blame you if you did- he thinks you’d at least do him the courtesy of telling him. So the first day of your absence, he waits, trying to ignore the anxiety in his chest. The second day is spent in self-loathing; the third, hating the universe at large with more viciousness than usual. But the fourth… that’s when he lets a few tendrils of doubt creep into his brain. But not about your potential sudden change of heart- no. That doesn’t sit right with him.

It’s nothing. Most likely, you’ve left, just like everyone else, once realizing the depths of the horror of the man standing in front of you. Most likely, you’re moving on with your life without involving yourself with the villain. Most likely…

Then why does he still feel uneasy?

He glances where he knows a camera is positioned, tucked into the ceiling’s seams. How closely he’s being monitored, he’s never figured out, but he has an inkling that he could hang himself by his hair and no one would bother trying to stop him. So how to get their attention? He has little magic at his disposal, not enough to conjure anything disturbing, and his cell is lacking anything remotely useful.

With a sigh, he hefts his cuffs, twisting his wrists nervously in their prisons, unsure of so many things. Using as much strength as he can gather, the manacles are hurled at the glass barrier with enough force to make his bones ache and his teeth clench.

This may take a while.

X

Thor has never liked scavenger hunts- he lacks the brains for riddles his brother so gleefully loves- but a chase without clues is proving even more frustrating. Every inquiry about your whereabouts is met with indifference or confusion, and his visit to your offices was fruitless, as your colleagues don’t seem capable of anything but stuttering and terror in his presence. It is quite annoying. Why Loki prefers to rule through fear he will never know.

Loki. He sees you every day, from what little he can gather- no doubt he knows of your wellbeing. But he is not allowed passage into his brother’s cell…

“Thor.” A woman’s sharp voice cuts through his thoughts. “What the hell is your brother playing at?”

Ah. Very occasionally, fortune does favor him.

Maria Hill stands tapping a brisk toe. “He’s been intent on breaking out for the better part of three hours now. Can you please go talk sense into him? If there’s any sense there to reason with,” she mutters under her breath.

“Of course. Please, lead the way.”

In the depths of SHEILD, locked behind glass, stripped of his grandeur and posturing, Loki looks more himself than he has in a long time. Thor watches the muscles in his shoulders grind to a halt as he abandons his latest attempt at what looks to be smashing his handcuffs against the barrier. Neither the glass or the manacles are any worse for wear, from what Thor can see, but his brother is noticeably exhausted.

“Thor.” The relief in Loki’s voice is palpable. “You came.”

A small spark of happiness flares in Thor’s chest. When was the last time his brother welcomed his presence? “You wished me to?”

“Obviously.” Loki sets himself down on his cot. His hands rest in his lap, and raw rings of skin peek out from underneath his bindings. “Where is Y/N?”

For a moment, Thor only blinks. “The lady Y/N? Have you not seen her? I wished to ask you the same.”

A dark shadow passes over his face. “No. I have not.”

Maria is looking between the two gods impatiently, clearly not following the conversation. “Y/N? Who are we talking about?”

Something low grumbles in the back of Loki’s throat. “Y/N Y/L/N. An archivist under your employ. She has been- assigned to me, for however long I have been in SHIELD’s grip now.”

Her eyes widen just a hint. “You’re pitching a fit about your babysitter? Is she even still still here?  I would’ve thought you’d have run her into the ground a month in.” The incredulousness in her voice makes both Thor and Loki bristle.

“You do not keep count of those under your care?” Thor asks.

“We keep track of the important ones.” When the atmosphere of the room dampens to the point of stifling at the clench of Loki’s fists and the stretching of Thor’s shoulders, Maria backtracks. “I mean- okay. Get to the point. Why are you worried about her?”

“She has been absent for the better part of four days now,” Loki grinds out from clenched teeth. “And such behavior is… unusual.”

“Aye.” Thor nods. “It is unlike her to remove herself from Loki’s side for so long.”

“Okay- okay.” The agent rubs her temples briefly. Her migraine isn’t getting any better. “I have two semi-immortal beings worried about someone we hired a year ago on a lark. Wonderful. You realize she’s just on vacation or something?”

Loki looks to Thor with a glance that clearly communicates everything he isn’t voicing. “Perhaps I could verify her whereabouts,” Thor says casually, unwilling to alert Hill to his brother’s turmoil. “To ease his mind, if nothing else.”

She sighs. “If it’ll get him to calm down, fine. Go find Stark, he’s been fiddling with the security system anyways.” She leaves mumbling something under her breath, shaking her head and looking like she needs a very strong drink.

Once she’s gone, Loki visibly deflates. “Thor-”

He holds out a hand. “I will investigate the matter,” he says calmly. “I am sure she is fine, brother.”

Loki nods. “Just- be certain.”

It strikes Thor, in that moment, that as meaningful as you are to himself, he has not begun to scratch the surface on your worth to his brother.

X

Stark is, as predicted, sequestered into a room full of glowing screens, his attention on all of them at once. “Sparky the Hammer-Bro. What can I do for you?”

Thor lets his eyes rove over rows of code, none of which he understands. “I need to view security recordings. The Agent Hill said you may help.”

“Uuuuuuuuuuuumsure.” The genius waves a hand, dismissing several rows of numbers. “Anything in particular?”

“Five days ago, roughly. As for what I seek- I believe I will know when I see it.”

Stark raises an eyebrow. “Cryptic. Fun times! Uno momento, por favor.” One by one, computer screens are filled with a past SHIELD, going about its business. It could be any given day- agents roam, papers filed, choice global secrets exposed and others hidden. But Thor zeroes in on the one displaying you and his brother, in some sort of tense conversation. Loki lashes out, and you reply with remarkable composure- enough to apparently reassure him you aren’t going anywhere. In his head, Thor adjusts every opinion of you he’s ever had.

You talk for a while more, underscored by Stark’s idle whistling from the corner. You leave, bag tucked under your arm, and say goodbye to a scant few colleagues. Outside, a car pulls up in front of you, and you go to open the door- only, it’s opened for you, by gloved hands belonging to an unseen being. While they grab you by the arms, another man in a suit is busy administering a blunt object to the back of your skull. You crumple into the waiting vehicle. The door is shut. It pulls smoothly away from the curb, as though you were never there at all.

To Thor’s right, static electricity shorts out a bank of monitors.

And now Tony is talking, leaning in to examine the footage- “Who- wait, isn’t that your brother’s pet? What the hell-?” But Thor is already gone, hurrying in a way that magically clears everyone from his path before he even arrives. Every thud of his heel echoes a crisp and succinct no, no, no, no, no, no

Loki has been pacing, but he pauses to turn his sharp gaze on his brother. “Well?” Thor can’t even open his mouth before green eyes turn deadly. “No.”

Thor’s mouth is suddenly dry. “Brother-”

There’s an inferno behind Loki’s voice, one that Thor has only ever seen herald destruction. “Bring me the director. Now.”

X “Let me get this straight,” Fury drawls slowly, in an obvious effort to try his prisoner’s patience. Even Thor is having to keep his fingers from curling into fists. “Your babysitter- who has apparently stuck around for the last ten months, even though by all accounts she should have run screaming from the room- has been kidnapped by a mysterious force, and you want me to release you in order to go on a harebrained rescue. Unchaperoned.”

“Yes.”

Fury snorts. “No.”

“I would be with him,” Thor argues, “and I would not let him-”

“-escape off-world with his magic in tow? Pardon me if I’m not inclined to believe you.”

“You don’t understand!” Loki looks incredibly close to breaking something, and for the sake of their argument, Thor very much hopes he doesn’t. “She is in peril and you would sit back and do nothing-”

The director holds up a hand as the door opens and Hill slips in, holding printed camera stills. “HYDRA, most likely,” she says, pointing out various details in each photo to her boss. “Why they’d target her I have no idea.”

Fury sighs. “Fantastic. Let me ask you something, Mister mortals-are-ants-beneath-my-boot. Why the hell do you care?”

Too many thoughts to count flit across Loki’s face, and Thor has had a thousand years to catalogue every one of his brother’s expressions. “Is it not enough that I simply do?” Loki asks, apparently at a loss for words, and Thor can’t help but notice everything he isn’t saying in that one question.

“I’ll tell you everything,” he continues, almost vibrating with desperation. “Everything you want to know, that is in my power to tell. I swear it.”

Fury’s eyes narrow. “The Chitauri? The Tesseract?”

“Yes.”

A pause. “Deal.”

Maria startles. “Nick-”

“No, Hill, don’t start with me, not now.” He nods at Loki’s cell. “If you would.”

Maria unlocks Loki’s cell and releases his manacles with the grace and poise of someone who has a revolver trained at her temple. Once his hands are free, she tenses, as though expecting a quick death- but he simply rubs his wrists, in the places they bleed slightly.

“You’re insane,” she says as Fury leads her out of the room, not bothering to lower her voice.

“Insane saved the world, once,” he shoots back. “How much worse can this be?”

“I can think of a few-”

The door closes behind them.

The two gods look at each other. “Four days is a long time,” Thor says softly, unnecessarily stating the obvious. “I would not even know where to look. Perhaps the captain would know-”

He stops as a rage of green flares up to Loki’s elbows, mirroring the fire that has suddenly blazed to life in his eyes. His voice is haunted by things unknown- “I have her.”

[hazbinextgeneration]

A Little Info Please

(HAPPY EARLY BIRTHDAY TO @jellori)

It was almosy humiliating how this entire thing started really-

Smoke. The smell of alcoholic drinks. Men and women drunkingly dancing and laughing and bouncers doing their jobs as usual. But there was one man who wasn’t blinded by the lights or the mindless entertainment. And he was currently staring at who...Or more specifically HER he was interested in. There was usually one thing about her he came for and that was her rumored knowledge- But maybe we should rewind just a wee bit and get to the actual point about what was actually taking place...You see. He had been in a little bit of a hole the past few weeks. Money in his certain kind of ‘work’ wasn’t easy to come by or keep from the cops so he often had to lay low anywhere from days to weeks at a time between jobs to avoid suspicion. Almost got caught a few times but it was worth it in the end, the only down side was that quick cash usually didn’t last very long, but hopefully this next job would bring in a lot of dough. Considering if he got the info he was looking for and who ever to get it from was from one of the more infamous sources of information. You see. There was two ways to get the information you wanted in this underground world of crime. 1. Go on a wild goose chase to figure it out yourself or 2. Pay someone to get it for you. Number 2. was usually the go-to option for him since he was usually in a bit of a hurry, plus he heard rumors of a woman being this little dictionary and he hasn’t met a woman yet who (even if it took a lot of time and effort) didn’t eventually fall for him. He got his charms and handsome looks from his good genetics.~ Now the real question was finding said woman. Not an easy one to find he heard, but easily noticeable for her one eye and white spots....Whatever that meant.

But all this looking around for the last twenty-ish minutes getting pushed around by drunk or dancing people was starting to get as annoying as the blinding lights shining all over the crowd. His legs were sore anyways, but lucky for him the bar was right open and had only a few people. PERFECT!! Smiling he immediately made a beeline towards it and was happy to break out of the crowd for a little while. Sitting down on that bar stool and giving a wink to the female bartender who after taking a good few seconds looking at him smiled and gave him the drink he pointed at. AH! The joys of having a beautiful face.~ The wine and beer was pretty cheap but what was he to expect from a cheap run down place like this? At least it had some kind of nice fruity taste to it.

“....I swear this night is going to be wasteful of my time and effort.,” he mumbled before twirling in his seat and taking a long good look around the entire lot of people. Not one looked like any woman he was vaguely told about...Not even the ones at the bar-...Hold on. His eyes stopped at the woman next to him. She looked nothing like he was told. Not at all. No white spots, but there....WAS. A. GIANT. STACK. OF. MONEY!! In her hands. He watched as she flipped through what must’ve easily been 50k in thousand dollar bills. Well. Certainly this lady had some story behind that. He couldn’t see her face behind that giant pink-purple braid or bangs. But he couldn’t help but comment on it. “That’s a pretty lot of money for a pretty little thing like you, isn’t it?”

The lady stopped what she was doing and turned to him and gosh golly wouldn’t you believe it!! One black patch covered an eyes as he boredly smiled at him. “Well that wouldn’t be a stranger’s business would it?”

“Touche.~ But then again I am in the market so maybe someone could be getting a little more money tonight.”

“Is that so? Well I hope you find that object on the market.”

“I might just have.~” He smiled and lifted his drink. “Im looking for a certain woman who happens to go by the name Hoseki.You wouldn’t have to know her would you?”

“That means Jewel,” she commented without answering the question. “Whatever are you doing looking for her?”

“I need some information on a certain stupid rich man’s shipment being sent tomorrow by boat....Where it is exactly I don’t know.”

“And why would this poor woman know anything? Maybe she rather be paid first.”

Ah! That was a hint. Like mentioned he didn’t have exactly a lot of money on him at the moment so it was going to be a little hard to do that. 

“Maybe I want to know her price first?”

“Maybe to find a certain boat docking, which there’s only one with rich cargo, it’ll cost you at least two grand.”

His smile dropped a little. “What if I only have one grand to give?”

“Then I guess you’ll only get half an answer. Considering if you find her that is.”

“I know it’s very much you.” He stated bluntly despite his smile. “So Miss Hoseki, can I buy you a dr-”

“Im going to stop you there, buck-a-roo.” She held up a hand still smiling. “Im a big girl, I can buy my own drinks. How many woman have fallen for that trick the first time you tried it, hm?”

......He stared at her for a couple seconds trying to process what exactly just happened. But opened his mouth. “Well. If you don’t like drinks then perhaps I can trade you for something you might. A pretty lady like you must have some kind of jewelry in mind-

“Cash only. I don’t do trades. And just because Im a lady you assumed you could brib me with shiny jewelry I could buy if I wanted. Come on, Slugger. You must have something else up your sleeve for me. Flirts, compliments, holding mt hand-...You think I haven’t seen those before but judging by your face you’re probably thinking how you can manipulate me into giving you that information right? Your eyes keep staring at my money.”

Those unique eyes of his snapped off the money back up to her and still didn’t say anything until she poked his chest. 

“But I’ll tell you what. Since I find this amuzing if you buy me lunch I’ll tell you where you can find this shipment. ....Unless of course you’re going to just sit there with that wide eyed fish face.” That hand then closed his mouth which he didn’t know his jaw had dropped a little bit. “......Well?”

He blinked. “I-...But of course! What would you be having then, Darling?~”

“Hm. Keep trying those flirts, Pretty boy. It’s almost cute.”

“So you think Im pretty?~”

“Food first. Then we’ll talk business.”

[eeveevie]

For the cliche prompts: number 1 is always 👌👌👌

There’s people chasing us and I pulled you into the alley with me and wow you’re close

Brynjolf x Fiona

827 words | Ao3

Fishing jobs were never easy, but Fiona supposed that was part of the thrill of being a thief. They were still one of her favorite tasks to run for the Guild, even as Guildmaster—a chance to showcase a different side of her skillset. Picking pockets relied on misdirection, slight-of-hand, and sometimes a few honeyed words to sweeten up the mark.

This time, however, Fiona was wishing she had never taken the extra work from Delvin. For starters, he had sent her all the way across Skyrim to Markarth. Then, he had instructed her to lift a priceless expensive amulet from the Jarl’s steward—who hardly ever left the throne room, or his company of soldiers. At first, she thought having Brynjolf join as her partner in crime would be beneficial, but it quickly backfired. His genius idea for them to visit Jarl Igmund undercover as bards went up in smoke when he couldn’t produce a single note on the flute he carried. Their little charade was quickly dismantled, and the two barely had enough time to distract the guards before running away.

It was difficult to run in the dress she wore, but slowly Fiona’s irritation melted away as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. She had never been caught—didn’t plan on it either—but that didn’t mean she didn’t love a game of cat and mouse. Her heart was racing as she dashed through the dark maze of Markarth city streets, not fully realizing she had lost Brynjolf along the way until she had passed the Silver-Blood Inn. The further away from the Understone Keep she got, the less guards she encountered, but that didn’t slow her or cause her to drop her defenses.

As she rushed around another corner, she nearly yelped in surprise as two arms pulled her into a darkened alleyway, one large hand clamped across her mouth, the other sliding across her waist to keep her still. Fiona instinctually reached up to fight off her captor but found the arms around her tightening in an effort to calm her. She inhaled—a familiar musk of pine and brandy—and she knew.

Brynjolf hushed her protest, his hot breath dancing along her neck calming her and exciting her in new ways all the same. She stilled and watched as the last straggler of guards ran by, shouting commands that the thieves had gotten away. They were in the clear—for now. But all Fiona could think about was how close Brynjolf’s body was to hers, how different it felt pressed up against her when they weren’t in their Guild armor. His hand slid from her lips to her shoulder and she closed her eyes, trying to compose herself. Since when had she become so…touch-starved? Fiona supposed it had something to do with the fact they weren’t dancing around one another anymore. With no games to play, suddenly she was feeling like the lecherous one.

“Well that didn’t go quite as planned,” he said with a light chuckle, words tickling against the shell of her ear.

No, it hadn’t, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t still have some fun while they were there. Fiona quickly turned around in his embrace, not giving Brynjolf much time to react before she had cupped his face in her hands, bringing him into a heated kiss. His initial shock subsided quickly, however, and soon enough he was kissing back in earnest, hands roaming across her body in an effort to find some expanse of skin to touch.

She moaned, loudly as Brynjolf spun their bodies around, pinning her against the stone alley wall. He lifted one of her legs and hooked it around his waist, hand disappearing beneath the layers of skirts as it slid up her thigh. His other hand nimbly pulled at the front laces of her dress, all the while his lips tracing a delightful line from her jaw, down her neck to her chest. Fiona tugged him closer, groaning when she could feel the slightest outline of his arousal pressing against her.

“Hey! You two!”

They broke away from each other in an instant, quickly remembering that they had just been running from the city guard before getting lost in one another. Brynjolf instinctively tucked Fiona close to his chest, most likely to hide her state of undress from prying eyes, even in the darkness. They craned their necks upwards to see a not a guard, but a random citizen shouting down at them from a balcony.

“Get a room, before I report you to the guard!”

Fiona couldn’t contain herself as she giggled into the crook of Brynjolf’s shoulder, her amusement outweighing her embarrassment. He copied her laughter, pulling away just the slightest to flash that signature smirk she adored.

“He’s right,” Brynjolf sighed. “We should get a room, lest we get arrested for indecent exposure.”

She beamed up at him, capturing his lips in one last kiss. “Lead the way.”

send a tumblr kudos 💙🦀

[asillydreamer-on-a-crazyworld]

I think it was a setup and the practicing and I’m gonna teach you was for this moment, everyone’s freaking out but I’m like bring on S3 lmao

LOL WORD!

Same here, anon.Same here. I’m not worried whatsoever for next season or even Brio.

 I think that since the beginning they were not meant to be a functional, healthy ship. And honestly? I don’t care that they are like that. Sue me. It’s good to have some dark tastes too when it comes to ships.

We learned yesterday that he actually just taught her how to shoot, probably LOL. And I understand Rio bc like I was talking about it with some friends here, the guy recognized parts of himself in Beth. They were so much alike. Rio knew Beth was a smart person, that she had it in her to be a king someday, and I believe that was why even with the “I’m giving u the keys to the king” thing he actually didn’t intend to give her shit.

 Not this kind of power or control. Rio knew Beth had the potential to become a boss bitch. He said it himself. He warned her that if she wanted to be the king she HAD to kill the king. And we saw a few times in season one, that she wanted to be. The show gave us all the hints: from how she organized that “book club” in her house, to how she lied to  Ruby and Annie when she said she went back to Canada and told that guy I forgot the name that Detroit was theirs, in episode 10, I think?

But Beth was still learning, still afraid of this dark side of hers, and fighting against it because she wanted to be a “good person”. But Rio showed her she was not 100% good. And so, I think Rio didn’t want to risk giving Beth any proper training at how to be a successful boss bitch bc one day she could bring him down.

She would be good competition if she embraced that dark side of hers. So he just kept playing the game, not letting her turn into a queen piece or a king, just being the pawn there.

And yeah, I do think, looking back at the season, that he used her to get rid of the FBI. Or at least use her in a way that would take the focus off him and on someone else while he tried to come up with something to be done with Turner and the FBI for good.

We all debated to the point of exhaustion about how Rio could have killed Boomer himself and his guys, right? And some of us believed he didn’t want to get his hands dirty and that the feds would quickly trace the murder back to him, and some said he needed to give Beth a lesson, bc of what he said to his son “clean up ur own mess”. I think both are true. He forced Beth to kill Boomer bc he didn’t want to get his hands dirty and avoid the FBI linking another murder to him and he also liked the idea of making her do it bc maybe in his fucked up head, shooting her hubby wasn’t payment enough for getting him in jail. 

back then I agreed that Beth had to take responsibility for Boomer’s mess and I still stand to it, since what she and the girls did only made it worse, but Rio and his guys knew who Boomer was. The idiot was getting paid to keep his mouth shut.

Another murder in Rio’s account wouldn’t have made his record worse. Also, he is doing this for quite some time now, Sure he didn’t have a way to make it look like it wasn’t him? But ok, maybe it was too risky with the heat he was feeling from the feds.

But here I wanna u to notice something: Rio started to push Beth harder here.

Following her around to the point it got creepy. And I’m guilty here bc Like many others I was all like “lol Rio is so fucked up. this guy is really into this weird game with her right?” but honestly, that was the first sign that Rio was not that stable.

Then, we had the Brio sex in the bathroom after she said she was out, and don’t tell me that for Rio was more bc I think for both it was like an itch they needed to scratch or the tension would be too much. But again, Rio forced his hand in his game when he came back again, this time at Boland Motors, to “propose” a partnership to her. Like she rly had any choice, right? RIO WAS THE ONE WHO CAME BACK. NOT BETH.

and she accepted. Then, came the “stay in ur little lane” comment and we were all like “wow, Rio. ok, we get it, maybe he is trying to protect her bc she can mess things up and they both will pay”.

yeah. This is right, but he was also protecting himself here, bc it was a huge investment he was making. Like Manny Montana said, at the end of the day, it’s all about Money. And she found out he did something behind her back even when he said they were partners and yeah his motives might be good for him but WHAT ABOUT HER? After all, he said they were partners and partners don’t hide things from each other. And like Beth said in the car with the girls, if something wrong happened, she was the one going to jail. HA. isn’t that what almost happened? Can you really say Beth was wrong here?

And Rio did nothing to help her with it. Which, ok, fair, she did it to him first. Like he threw at her face in a not very subtle way with his comment in the car back in episode 12.

But again, that was her checkmate to him when he took her out. So again, more proof of how these two are not that sane with this dangerous power play between them.

Next: the body parts he sent her. I agree with a comment Heather made on TT that this was the first sign that Brio would go downhill. Many of us didn’t even care that much and again, GUILTY UR HONOR. That was fucked up but EVERYONE EXCUSED A GUY SENDING A WOMAN BODY PARTS BC HEY, HE IS A CRIMINAL. But WHAT IS WRONG WITH US HERE, DRAGGING A WOMAN DOWN- NO MATTER IF SHE IS WHITE, LIKE HOLY SHIT THIS IS SOME FUCKED UP THING TO DO, SHUT UP- BECAUSE SHE WAS SALTY TO HIM AFTER GOING BACK AND SAYING THAT YEAH, SHE BLOCKED HIS NUMBER AND WANTED OUT? YEAH, IT WAS KILLING HER BUT HE DIDN’T EVEN GIVE HER A CHOICE AGAIN.

I think that if Rio waited just a bit more, she would go back by herself. She was dying to go back to the crime world. And she would eventually, but probably not with him as a boss, but Rio just liked to have her around so much…She entertained him.

But notice… AGAIN SHE DIDN’T LOOK FOR HIM. HE FORCED HER TO GO BACK USING SOMEONE ELSE’S BODY.

AND FINALLY:

Kidnapping her and trying again to force her to shoot Turner this time, bc yeah, I agree with Rio, I don’t believe Turner would leave Beth be, bc his reputation was ruined. He would lose the case he spent so many years, probably, working on.

now one question: He succeeded in kidnapping Turner and hurt him. Why did take him so long to do this?

Why didn’t he kill Turner sooner?

 Again, I think he was waiting for the best moment to do it. Maybe, just like he didn’t want to get his hands dirty with Boomer, he didn’t wanna the same with Turner. Good thing he had Beth there with him now, in the game.Right?

again, he was RIGHT. The man wouldn’t stop chasing her or him by default.

was this his “grand gesture”? in his fucked up mind I think it was. Manny himself said here that Rio is, and I quote: “ a dude that has a screw loose.”.

but I believe he was reaching his breaking point, acting on survival mode. He took his things out of the loft. He kidnapped Beth when I believe if he just called her, she would meet him there ( writers, EXPLAIN THIS!). 

but ok, it was done. But the way he kept pushing her, started to scream at her to just shoot Turner, calling her bitch, advancing on her? He lost it. And so did she. The pressure was building between them since episode 11, I think, and it finally exploded. 

She did what he wanted her to do in S1 but she wasn’t ready yet and I don’t think she was in 2x13. It was just a thing of the moment, not something she planned. She just acted on instinct, survival instinct, just like Rio did I believe, with his actions. U can see on his face he was surprised.

And then he laughed at Turner when he was laying on the floor, bleeding.

Rio set up the grand finale to his game with Turner, even getting that camera on his place to again mess with Beth and honestly, this was all fucked up since the beginning.

he always bet high on his moves in this thing with Beth. They both don’t know much about the other and people can surprise u in bad and good ways.

 I honestly don’t think Rio will be furious with her, not long.  The woman actually had the balls to shoot him, a crimelord, well know in Detroit streets, and she just got three bullets in his chest.

I think he can kind of respect that. But of course, it will be hell for Beth to pay, bc the king will get his crown back. 

Beth is not ready to rule yet anyway. I think we’ll see that in season 3 but one thing I liked that the show let us know: Beth embraced this other side of her bc yeah, she is gonna be a mom still but she will also try to run her own criminal enterprise. She finally believes she can do this. Rio was a daddy and he could right? And I believe she will start with something small, obviously.

However she will struggle, and I wonder if word won’t get out that a mom, a Stepford wife, shoot the great Rio and almost killed him.

I wonder what she is gonna do when she finds out Turner saved Rio’ life in a way, bc I believe he did call 911.

I don’t trust Turner or his apparent truce with Beth.

I do believe Season 3 has a lot of potential. And I can’t wait to see how Beth and Rio will fight over their territory and how these two alphas will find common ground again. I agree that in season 1 Beth was the one who went to Rio and asked to be part of this world he lives in. 

 And I’m not saying she didn’t like it bc she did. but I think season 2 was her really struggling with what she wanted and how she wanted, and Rio didn’t give her any space to breathe bc he kept pushing her to just decide and get done with it.

Manny said Rio liked the girls and especially Beth around and that they made things more interesting. I think he knows his character enjoyed this cat and mouse game he had going on, but even when Rio felt something for beth money, again, was at the forefront of his mind. And with what Manny said about Rio, trying to find a way to understand this man mind takes way more than we thought. Let’s see where we go down from here.

[tlirswriting]

Past Mistakes, part 4

Don't expect my upload schedule to stay like this I have no fucking clue how I've posted decently sized pieces of writing three days in a row

Read part 1 here: https://bookfroggity.tumblr.com/post/187152824147/past-mistakes

///

3:27 A.M.

Five went back to the house. He followed his suspect long enough; he had his name, home address, and he took note of the licence plates on any vehicles that might be of interest.

The day wasn't completely wasted, and now he could rest, briefly though it would be.

Five's hand hovered over the door handle. There was a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He took a breath and opened the door.

The house was trashed; the most obvious of it being the chandelier that crashed into the floor, cracking the surrounding tiles.

"Oh, no," He mumbled, taking a few steps inside and getting a better look at the wreckage.

Bullet holes. Familiar bullet holes, in fact, and quite a few of them. Nine-millimeters, haven't been manufactured since 1963, the kind temporal assassins use.

Five's heart sank.

"Guess I should've known they'd get caught in the cross-fire eventually, huh, Delores?"

You have to stay away from here.

"Yeah."

The more your tracks lead to your family, the more danger they're in.

"Obviously."

You don't need them, anyway.

"I can do this on my own. I can do this more easily on my own, actually. They won't be in my way, I won't get them shot, it's a win-win."

Exactly.

Five left without saying a word to anyone who may or may not have been there.

...

Five's suspect was getting in his car early the next morning.

Five appeared in the passenger seat, which was, understandably, a surprise.

"Oh, Jesus!" He said, finding himself with a knife under his chin.

"One chance," Five hissed. "One chance is all you've got to tell me exactly what's going on in that lab."

"I-- I manufacture prosthetic devices for fake patients, I bill the insurance companies and then sell them for cash on the black market--"

"Including eyeballs?"

"Yeah, they're my biggest seller."

Five sighed sharply through his nose, murder in his eyes.

"I mean, they sell like hotcakes. I-- I've got a list, a waiting list, probably twenty buyers."

"So the serial number I told you..."

"Uh, could've already been bought, yes, off-- off the books."

"I needed that list, Lance. Names and numbers, and I need it now!"

"I don't have it. I mean, not on me; the only copy's in my safe at the lab."

"Well. Start the car, then, because we're going on a field trip."

"Okay."

"Now."

"Okay."

...

Meritech was on fire.

Goddamn it all, Five thought, running towards it, though he wasn't sure what exactly his plan was at that point.

The fire roared through the doors, blasting broken glass and Five through the air, landing a good eight feet back.

He sat up and watched it burn, listening to the sirens approaching. Things were starting to look a little too familiar.

"No," Five moaned. "No, no, please, this was my only lead, what am I supposed to..."

The sirens were getting close. Five didn't want to have to deal with the fire department or, worse, the police.

He decided to go do what he always did in situations like these.

...

"You know, Delores, I really thought I could save the world," Five lamented before taking another swig of his drink. "I thought, you know, I thought 'oh yeah sure I can singlehandedly thwart armageddon, no big deal, if anyone can it's me,' but my one idea about how just got incinerated, so, fuck me, I guess."

The floor of a public library might not have been the most ideal place for a breakdown, but it was his best option, and there weren't too many people around the corner he chose to tuck himself away in.

There's still time.

"No, there's not." Five let out a sob that he would've found to be an embarrassingly pathetic show of emotion had he been sober. "There's not enough time to do anything anymore, I wasted it all chasing after that stupid eyeball and now everything's gonna go down in flames because of me."

Don't say that.

"It's true, though, everyone on earth will die and it'll be my fault. I just, I fucking, I've killed everybody. I don't even have an escape plan, Del, how did... Why am I so stupid?"

You're not stupid, Five.

"Yes I am! I'm stupid, and a murderer, and I'm gonna burn to death, and then I'm gonna burn in the pits of the underworld as punishment for my stupid murder crimes."

You haven't failed yet, you can still fix it if you try really hard. Maybe you should start praying. You never were particularly religious, but at this point it's about all you have left. But, listen, I know you better than anyone and I know you don't give up this easily. Tomorrow, you're gonna get up and-- I appreciate the chance to talk for longer than usual but you should probably stop chugging that.

Five came up for breath, his throat burning. "Yeah, you're right. You're always right. It's just... It's so hard, I've been planning this for thirty... Forty...? Fucking... A lot of years, okay? And it all literally went down in flames, and everything else is about to follow."

You can figure something out.

"I'm so scared."

I know.

"I don't want to go back there, Delores, I don't want to live like that, I don't want people to die."

I know.

"I love you."

I know.

"Have I said that since I got here? I don't remember."

No, but you don't really hide it, either.

"Yeah, I guess I don't."

...

"Hey, get up."

Five's eyes flickered open to find a blurry, slightly spinning Diego looking down at him, nudging his side with his boot.

"Whuh...?"

"You can't just stay there, Five, this is a public library and as far as everyone else here is concerned you're some weird lost kid drinking way below the legal age."

"Fuck off, I'm having a moment here."

Luther snickered.

"Come on," Diego said, giving Five a more forceful nudge.

"Alright, alright." Five staggered to his feet, and became acutely aware of his sense of balance, or lack thereof. "Oh, sweet Jesus," He groaned, putting a hand on the side of his head as if it would help anything as he stumbled around, eventually finding himself leaning his back against Luther.

Diego sighed. "We don't have time for this. Luther, can you just carry him?"

Five opened his mouth to protest, but was already being hoisted into the air, so he opted for a wordless yell.

Diego was apologizing to someone for the way his "nephew" was acting while he gathered up the notes Five had set down, but what caught Five's attention was that he picked up Delores, and by the neck no less.

"Hey, you can't-- you don't just grab her like-- no!"

"It's a mannequin, Five."

"That's my wife, you asshole!"

Luther tightened his grip on his brother as he started struggling against him, kicking and scratching. "Diego, just-- ow-- Diego don't try to argue with him, he's not gonna cooperate."

"Fine, whatever." Diego tossed Delores to Five, and he clung to her like a life preserver.

"The amount of disrespect we put up with..." Five mumbled, stroking the back of her head.

"Happy?" Diego asked.

"Mmph..."

"Close enough."

...

"Well, we can't go back to the house, it's not secure. Those people could come back at any moment," Luther said.

"My place is closer, no one will look for him there," Diego offered.

Five felt like he was made of plasma; whether this was normal or if alcohol made his powers more unstable wasn't of much concern to him as waves sloshed through his guts.

"If you vomit on me," Luther threatened, finding it more effective to leave these things unfinished.

"Hey, you know what's funny?" Five started, rubbing Delores' back. "I'm going through puberty... Twice. Heh. And I... I drank that whole bottle, didn't I?"

Neither of his brothers seemed as amused by either of those.

"That's what you do when the world you love goes bye-bye," Five continued. "Poof, it's gone... What are you guys talking about?"

"Two masked intruders attacked the Academy last night," Luther huffed.

"They came looking for you," Diego added. "So I need you to focus. What do they want?"

"Hazel and Cha-Cha..."

"Who?"

"You know, I hate codenames," Luther interjected, not helping Five focus.

"Ah, the best of the best," Five half-explained. "Except for me, of course."

"The best of what?" Diego prodded impatiently.

Boy, he sure doesn't know a lot, Five thought, and with that he lost his train of thought. "You know, Delores always said she hated when I drink. She said it made me surly--"

"Hey!" Diego snapped, turning to face him.

"Hm? Yeah?"

"I need you to focus. What do this Hazel and Cha-Cha want?"

Five stared at him for a moment, part of him trying to figure out how to explain and the other part trying to decide if he should.

"We just want to protect you," Diego added.

" 'Protect me'... I don't need your protection, Diego. Do you have any idea how many people I've killed?"

"No."

"I'm the Four fuckin' Horsemen... And the apocalypse is coming." With that, Five threw up over Luther's shoulder, and they all decided to stop asking questions for the night.

///

Part 5: https://bookfroggity.tumblr.com/post/187362397627/past-mistakes-part-5