#but i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: u can pry my Facts Guy Richie hc from my cold dead hands

[chemicaljacketslut]

just realized i really don’t have many headcanons. like ik people r out here making lists n coming up with new ones for ask games n shit and im over here with like. blonde eddie and Facts Guy Richie

[chilligyu]

info: lee jihoon/gender neutral reader, pg, best friends to lovers au genre: fluff, romance | word ct: 5.5k warnings: none summary: when it came to love, no one was prepared. not even jihoon, who could spend hours turning words into magic, especially when love was mysteriously delivered in the form of a letter to his locker. note: heavily inspired by to all the boys I've loved before, but with a twist! no love triangles or anything like that, so just enjoy awkward people falling in love! and thank you to @dreamystuffers and @starlightjoong for taking a sneak peek and telling me what you think!

tagging: @xfirebenderx, @moriiyun, @ohmygoshcheese, @gyu-log

Lee Jihoon, a genius in many ways, was never good when it came to words. At least, not the spoken kind. The kind that you had to think up on the spot, responses, answers, comebacks, small talk, he was absolutely terrible at it. But if you gave him the time to think, to really dwell on his thoughts, he could create something truly beautiful. Which was why he preferred to express his feelings with letters. And while, yes, he could pen something magnificent, the next great classic novel perhaps, he typically kept his messages short and to the point. Much like the man himself.

There was one time that he wrote a “letter” that was simply—

F U C K Y O U

—printed out on seven separate sheets of paper and taped to a row of lockers. All in response to a teacher confiscating his iPod. No one could prove it was him, though, and nothing happened in response to it. He never admitted to his crimes, and despite it being painfully obvious who the author of the message was, there was no hard proof pointing to the culprit. It became the most well-known secret at their high school. And Lee Jihoon became somewhat of a living legend because of it.

The only one who knew the truth was you. His best friend. You were his go-to when it came to proof reading all of his letters. He was the writer, you were the editor. Half the time you were also a berating parent, chastising him for trying to assault people with words. Which was also why, more often than not, his letters never got sent. He would sit in his room for hours, writing letters that were either half the length of novels or only a few sentences long, and after giving it over to be edited, it would get tucked away in his desk drawer. Never to be seen or heard from again.

See, Jihoon was an emotional person. Not in the sense that most people would assume, he didn’t get offended easily, one mean comment wouldn’t leave him crying, he was simply—emotional. Whatever he was feeling, whether it be good or bad, it was powerful, sometimes overwhelming. So instead of erupting like a hormonal volcano, which he had already done plenty of, he put his emotions to paper. At the behest of his aforementioned best friend.

“You can’t go around yelling at people.” You began one afternoon just after entering high school. “Even if you’re writing it down, you’re still yelling at people.”

Jihoon, the definition of “hard to read”, was visibly pouting. “You’re the one who told me to write down how I feel. Now I can’t even send these to anyone?”

“I mean, you can.” You backpedalled. “I’m not your mother, despite Seokmin’s insistence. I can’t stop you from doing anything you’ve set your heart to. All I can do is advise you not to because you’re going to have a terrible few years here if everyone hates you.”

He clearly wasn’t thrilled by your logical response, but he admitted defeat anyway. “Fine. Don’t send the letters that I write. I get it. No one wants to read them.”

You groaned loudly. “You are so dramatic. I’m saying don’t send the literal hate mail to people. Don’t send the stuff you write to vent out your feelings. But if there’s something you want to say to someone, something that you can’t bring yourself to say out loud, by all means! Send the thing! I know you loathe the idea of talking to people, you also hate being misunderstood more.”

He also hated how well you knew him, not that he would ever say that out loud.

That was also something he wrote down in a letter, one he decided to send.

You crumpled it up immediately and threw it back at his face.

“Letters are powerful things, Jihoon.” You added. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives with nothing more than words. Because words mean so many different things to so many different people. You just gotta say the right ones.”

At first, he was only humoring you. Honestly, he thought you completely senile until he gave it a shot. After spending hours hunched over his desk writing things no one else would see, he was starting to realize that maybe you had a point. Instead of roaming the halls shouting obscenities in his head, he was able to reassure himself by knowing he could write about it later. Even the smallest grievance, he would write it down. He would sometimes scribble it down on the margin of a textbook if he was feeling particularly overwhelmed in the middle of the day.

The letters became his therapy, his outlet, eventually he could stroll past some annoying upperclassmen and not feel rage coursing through his veins. It was—nice, almost. Not being subjected to his own hectic imagination at every turn. Feeling at peace for the first time in what felt like ages.

Until he found a letter in his locker, one addressed to him during his senior year. From a secret admirer. The contents of which would be seared into his memory for the remainder of time.

Lee Jihoon, it began.

I have never been able to tell you how I feel, in person or in a letter. For several months now, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to write letters like you for so long, and I just can’t get the words right. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m going to do something different. I’m going to stop being scared. If you meet me in the courtyard after school, I’m going to be brave for the first time in my life. Please help me be brave, Jihoon.

Again and again, he read that short letter. Practically baffled that someone out there wrote an honest-to-god letter that was addressed to an honest-to-god person. And that he wasn’t the writer, that he was the recipient. The thought alone made his heart race, and to comprehend that this secret admirer perhaps harbored feelings towards him? It was next to impossible. But no one writes a letter without true emotion behind it. That’s a fact he was coming to understand.

“I need you to come with me.” He told you after showing you the letter. “I’m—I’m not sure I can do this alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jihoon, obviously this person doesn’t want to make a public event out of their confession. You should really do this without me.”

“I know, and I’m not asking you to stand at my side or anything.” He reiterated. “Can you like—stand in a bush or something? If I know that you’re there I won’t feel the need to—"

“Did you just ask me to stand in a bush?” You guffawed. “You did not just ask me to stand in a bush Lee Jihoon because if you did then you’re about to get your ass kicked into next year!”

“I didn’t mean literally!” He quickly denied when he did, in fact, mean it literally. “Just—stand around the corner, okay? Be my moral support!”

Pursing your lips, you knew that there was no getting out of this. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But I’m not happy about it.”

“I’ll pay you back, I promise.” He swore. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

A smirk teased at your lips. “You could mention it more.”

“Consider it done.” Jihoon grinned, gathering up his things and heading for the door. “Don’t forget! After school! Courtyard! Don’t be late!”

Once he was gone and you were completely alone, your face fell in disappointment. “I wouldn’t dream of it…”

By the time that school was finally over for the day, Jihoon was a bundle of overactive nerves. He was excited and terrified and anxious and nauseous all at once. The bombarding sensations kept him cemented in place, gripping the edge of his desk until his knuckles were about to burst through. He had been like that for the entirety of their last class, still as a statue as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. You were standing in front of him, head tilted and wondering what he was planning to do next.

“Class is over.” You reminded him. “Everyone’s left.”

Very slowly, he nodded. “Y-yeah. I can see that.”

His voice sounded as if it had been completely stripped down. Like he had screamed himself hoarse by saying those few words.

“Your secret admirer is probably waiting.” You tried to spur him. “We should get going before I change my mind and head home.”

He audibly swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Well—maybe that’s best. Yeah, I can wait until tomorrow.”

You eyed him incredulously. “You’re going to stay here until tomorrow. You’re insane, get up.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And I’d rather not grow old and die here.” You countered. “C’mon, Jihoon. Your admirer asked you to help them be brave, how exactly is this helping them?”

He had to admit, you had a point. If they were brave enough to put their feelings out there, he had to at least meet them half way.

Sighing loudly, he started to pry his fingers off his desk. “Alright, fine. We’ll do things your way.”

You rolled your eyes for perhaps the hundredth time. “You’re absolutely insufferable. Why do I hang out with you?”

“Because I’m funny.” He said with the most serious face in the world.

Which actually made you laugh.

“I hate you.” You chuckled. “C’mon, let’s get going while we’re still young.”

Jihoon inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm himself down.

This is just the beginning.

Except—it wasn’t.

He stood in the courtyard, seemingly alone, with the note that brought him there clutched tight in his hand. As his moral support you were keeping your distance, as promised, but no one else joined you. Minutes passed and he did his best to remain hopeful. It was hard, especially when a familiar voice nagged at the back of his mind. The same one he struggled with every day to ignore.

No one would ever like you, so why did you bother thinking otherwise?

While the negative thoughts slowly took over, Jihoon didn’t know what to do next. He was defeated, almost destroyed. And even though you walked up behind him and took his hand in yours, it did little to stop the bitter tears from welling in his eyes.

“I should’ve known…” He whispered angrily. “This was all just—a joke. It’s always a joke. Who could ever like me?”

“Stop it, Jihoon.” You hissed at him, squeezing his hand tighter. “They said they were scared, maybe they couldn’t follow through with it. Maybe they were afraid of being rejected. You never know what’s going through someone’s head. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

Nothing you said was going to make him feel better. He quickly wrenched himself from your grip and backed away from you.

“I’m going home.” He clipped. “Bye.”

Before he left, he made sure to crumple up the note and toss it at your feet. When his heart was broken, he wore it on his sleeve. You understood what Jihoon was feeling, he had been living with an extremely low self esteem due to his height and his general inability to make friends for as long as you knew him. He was quiet, shy, reserved, he was slow to open up to others and hesitant to trust. That’s why you tried to be excited for him, and now that things hadn’t gone as planned in more ways than one your heart ached just like his.

The next day, Jihoon strolled into class like a drunk zombie. By the looks of him, he hadn’t slept a wink. Too busy being destroyed by his own thoughts to bother with anything like sustenance or sleep. He took up his seat beside you, and you immediately shoved your desk into his.

“Still upset?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

Sluggishly he lifted his head up and then quickly dropped it back down.

It was worse than you thought.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” You teased in an attempt to get a reaction. “Or am I going to have to go bother Hansol?”

Grumbling slightly, the barely responsive mass that was your best friend raised his hand and dropped a crumpled wad of paper on your desk. At first, you assumed it was just another one of his letters. They weren’t uncommon when he was feeling—unwell.

But it was another note from his secret admirer.

You were startled because he didn’t usually stop at his locker in the morning.

Lee Jihoon, it started similarly.

I’m sorry for not showing up yesterday, I was scared. I couldn’t bring myself to face you, please don’t be mad at me. I’d like to keep writing you letters, if that’s okay. Let’s get to know each other and maybe one day I can be brave again.

Once you were finished reading, you immediately began analyzing Jihoon’s face again. You had never seen him look like this before, completely vacant. While he was hard to read to the entire world, he was always an open book to you. Now reading him was nearly impossible even with your expertise.

“What are you gonna do?”

He shrugged lazily. “I don’t know. Sit here for the rest of eternity. Wait for the soft embrace of death.”

“Jihoon.” You exasperated. “We both know you’re not actually going to do that.”

Except he actually might and you actually couldn’t take that chance.

“Are you going to write them a letter?” You tried, again. “Maybe that will work out better.”

“I already did.” He murmured. “I don’t think they want to read it though.”

“Jesus Christ…” You groaned loudly, taking Jihoon’s face in your hands and looking him dead in his lifeless eyes. “They still like you, they’re scared and human like the rest of us, it is not the end of the world! Give them another chance and stop being such a goddamn drama queen!”

Silence. Pure unadulterated and perfectly aggravating silence.

“Alright, you leave me no choice. I’m bringing out the big guns.”

Being careful to keep an eye on the teacher, you pulled out your phone and started texting Jihoon’s mother. According to your message, you and Jihoon were going to be studying late at the library, and he would probably need to spend the night at your house. Which wasn’t a complete lie, maybe you would get some studying done. But, in all honesty, you had other things in mind.

“Take your pick.” You instructed, a box set in each hand. “Descendants of the Sun, or Record of Youth.”

Immediately after school, you dragged your best friend to your house and sat him down in front of the TV. Your parents didn’t even question it when you told them this intervention was a matter of life and death, that the patient might need to be admitted for the night. They simply let you do what needed to be done.

Jihoon, who had been relatively catatonic for the past 24 hours, finally showed a glimmer of something. He gave the slightest suggestion of a nod towards Descendants of the Sun and you happily popped in the first disk. As you claimed a spot beside him, popcorn and banana milk in tow, he naturally relaxed against you. You were the only person who got to see him unguarded like that, the only person he himself would allow. And while he was typically someone who kept his true self hidden from the world, there was a part of him that would forever belong only to you.

“Thanks.” He practically whispered, resting his head on your shoulder. “I—I needed this.”

“I know.” You smiled. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

He sighed heavily. “No. Not really. I still have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Well, if you need help thinking you know where I’ll be.” You offered without wanting to seem pushy.

If you weren’t mistaken, you could’ve sworn he actually chuckled.

“Yeah. I do.”

Little by little, your best friend was slowly returning to normal—or as close to normal as you’ve ever seen him. Eventually he started getting sucked into the drama, going rigid when things got tense, and actively pretended he wasn’t crying whenever You Are My Everything played. It was, overall, a job well done. You could sleep easy knowing that Jihoon would be just fine. As you drifted off, you felt him hold your hand and squeeze it gently.

Everything was going to be okay.

And if only to prove that point, the next day was nothing like the one before. Jihoon was back to his old self as if nothing had happened at all. Just another Thursday without a word or whisper about the chaotic tornado his secret admirer had unleashed onto your day-to-day life. He even had a letter for you to read by the time lunch rolled around. Apparently, some freshman irritated him over something seemingly small. At least—to you it seemed barely worth mentioning. But nothing ever really felt small to Jihoon. It was all or nothing, always living in black and white. Which meant that almost everything was important to him in some way. So you read the letter, and you edited it gladly.

Once you were done, he had something else for you. Another note from the admirer.

“This is the third one, right?” You murmured, glancing it over once before looking up at him. “Have you written back yet? Besides the one where I assumed you insulted their very existence with your entire arsenal of hurtful words.”

The blush crawling up his neck was an answer in and of itself, but the thick stack of paper he pulled out of his backpack solidified it.

“I’ve tried a few times.” He admitted hesitantly. “Nothing I write is good enough.”

“Oh, only a few times?” You teased, knowing full well that Jihoon’s definition of a few was the same as calling Jane Eyre a short shopping list. “What’s got you so stuck? Usually you have no issues penning essays over trivial things like cracks in the sidewalk.”

His brow furrowed defiantly. “Hey, proper sidewalk and road maintenance is important to modern infrastructure. If we start overlooking cracks in the pavement, then what? What about traffic lights? Can we afford to allow a single bulb to go out? No, of course not. That’s anarchy.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Jihoon…” You started with an exasperated look. “I was joking.”

Trying to hide the fact that his blush was turning a deep crimson, and failing quite miserably, he pulled a paper from the stack and put it back in his bag. Also something he tried, and failed, to hide from you.

“Are you kidding me!” You laughed, raking a hand down your face. “Did you seriously have a letter in that pile you were going to send to our congressman?”

“No—yes—ugh!” He groaned. “Can we forget about the stupid sidewalk for a second! That’s not important right now! Help me! How do I do this?”

Deciding you had teased your best friend enough, you placed your chin in your hand and smiled at him. “How do you do what, exactly? I’ve never had anything to do with the letters you write, I just read them so someone knows how you’re feeling.”

Who were you kidding, you could never tease Jihoon enough.

He rolled his eyes so hard that he rolled his whole head with them. “Like you’ve ever needed further insight into my head, you always know what I’m thinking before I do.”

True.

“But I don’t understand the first thing about—this.” He finished with a labored sigh, gesturing sharply to the handwritten novel in front of him. “You know that better than anyone.”

Again, he was telling the truth. In the years you had known Jihoon he had never developed serious feelings towards someone else. He had barely entertained the notion since entering high school. He always talked himself out of it because feelings were complicated and bothersome. Plus, he was terrified of being rejected. Like most people are. His intrusive thoughts just so happened to be louder than most.

“I hate to break it to you, Jihoon,” You started in a whisper, “no one knows the first thing about this. Not even me. The only person who can help you is yourself.”

His sour expression made it obvious that he obviously didn’t like your response. “Great. Super helpful. Thank you for your continued wisdom.”

When he moved away from you, you grabbed him by the sweater and pulled him back in. “Why do you always stop listening to me when I’m about to make my point?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Because it takes you forever to fucking get there.”

“Alright, you got me there.” You chuckled. “Listen, I’m not kidding when I say that you’ve got to do this one on your own. As much as I can usually sense what feelings are doing somersaults in your stomach, this is a first for you and therefore a first for me. I’ve never seen you like this before, so unfortunately you’ve got to discover this one on your own.”

As you spoke, his features slowly softened until all that remained was a very nervous teenager who didn’t want to screw up his first real chance at love. That’s all Jihoon was at his core, that’s all anyone was.

But you had to admit he almost looked kind of cute.

Almost.

“How do you always know what to say?” He grumbled while crossing his arms. “It’s annoying.”

“You’ve got a really weird way of saying thank you.” You smirked playfully. “Well, maybe this last nugget of advice will get you started in the right direction.”

“Why are you always—” He seethed through his teeth. “How are you still not at whatever your point is!”

You shrugged, because you honestly had no clue. “I'll get there when I get there. You want to hear it or not—”

“Spit. It. Out.”

“Now is that anyway to—”

Wow. You stopped, suddenly fearing for your measly life. If looks could kill—

“Alright, alright, you win.” You conceded. “If you’re having issues writing a letter to your secret admirer, here’s my advice. Stop trying to put words to your feelings and start putting feelings into words. You’re spending too much time trying to say it perfectly that you’re not saying it at all. It doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else, it doesn’t even need to make sense to you. So long as you put them out into the world, they’ll be heard and one day they’ll be understood. You get me?”

The look on his face was—strange. You had a hard time placing it, which should’ve been weirder than it was. In fact, you were seeing lots of different sides to Jihoon lately, sides you never thought existed. This time his eyes widened, the aforementioned scarlet blush had disappeared, and there was a radiance to him that you had never seen before. Like suddenly he could see clearly through the storm of his thoughts.

“Thank you.” He exhaled with a smile. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

Feeling triumphant, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m starting to wonder what you’d do without me, Jihoon. Three days and you’ve been completely undone and redone by this letter.”

“Letters are powerful things.” He muttered. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives. You taught me that.”

“I guess I’m a pretty good teacher.” You boasted, giving him a squeeze. “Despite the fact that I’m actually quite terrible with words.”

He shrugged off your arm. “Except you always know what to say, how exactly does that work?”

“Just because I can make you see reason doesn’t mean I’m good with words.” You laughed easily. “That simply means that I’ve perfected the art of understanding the impossible. Lee Jihoon. I can’t use words like you do. Trust me I’ve tried, I can never get the words right.”

For a moment, he didn’t have any sort of response. Which was definitely weird. It was a well-known fact that he was terrible with the sorts of words he had to speak, but he didn’t have issues when talking to you. That’s because you were friends, best friends. There had never been this sort of unnerving silence before. Not that you could remember, anyway.

What is going on in your head, Jihoon? You found yourself wondering since you couldn’t read his face. Have you started to figure it out?

“Sorry, I was thinking.” He muttered suddenly, shaking his head. “But I know what I need to write now. Will you read this one too? Even if it gets pretty long?”

“Of course!” You exclaimed with a smile. “When have I ever shied away from a challenge?”

The soft glisten in his eyes made your heart flutter.

“Never.”

When the bell rang and you parted ways, you wondered if Jihoon had ever written you a letter.

Well there’s a first time for everything.

For the next week, he was in full writer mode. And there were no more notes from his secret admirer, not that you expected there to be any. Every chance he got he was scribbling something down on whatever surface he could get his hands on. Textbooks, paper, his arm, he was more inspired than you’d ever seen before and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t even come over to your house over the weekend, a ritual you hadn’t broken in the ten plus years you had known each other. It was a lonely week, for sure, but you knew it was for a good cause.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, he approached you in the courtyard with a single sheet of paper in his hand.

“Hey…” He started uneasily, his grip tightening. “How’re you?”

Seriously? You mused to yourself with a smile. “I’m good, how’s the writing?”

“Done.” He clipped. “And—I think I covered everything.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, eyeing the sheet of paper. “With all of that writing I thought you’d have a novel for me.”

He shook his head, while a blush crawled up his neck. “Sometimes being concise is more effective than being overly wordy.”

“That’s true.” You grinned. “Easier for me to edit anyway.”

Nodding, he shoved the paper into your hand. “Here. Take your time, I don’t want you to rush it.”

“I won’t.” You promised, resisting the urge to start reading right away. “I know you put a lot of thought into this.”

With that, he turned around and walked off without another word. Leaving you holding something that looked like little more than pen ink on paper, but felt like a confession on fire. Once he was out of eyesight, you exhaled a breath you had been holding unintentionally and started reading.

To the person I have never loved before. It began, and you weren’t prepared for the roller coaster you had willingly climbed into.

This isn’t for the person I’ve loved all along, no. This is for you, someone who managed to stir my emotions more than a raging monsoon with only a few words and the hint of a promise. Who are you? I wondered to myself, because you were without equal. How could I have missed you? You were extraordinary. You didn’t have a face, all I had of you was a letter slipped into my locker, you were a ghost and I was set ablaze by your words. I had never felt like that before, my heart was unprepared. As was I. You made me question everything, and made me realize things I had never seen before.

What I felt for you wasn’t love, even though I thought it was at first. You presented me with feelings I decided I would never feel, so I could only assume that it was love. I felt like a live wire, ready to spark at a moment's notice. All I could think about was you. The infinite options and scenarios I dreamt up, all because of you, was astronomical. It was exhilarating, and I found myself drunk on the endless possibilities that you presented me. What else could make me feel that way, if it wasn’t love?

The answer was one I didn’t expect, and it hit me like a tsunami. I started to feel that way towards someone I already know. Someone who has cared for me more than anyone should, they have been my best friend for years so how could I suddenly feel the same way? How could my friendship for them become intertwined with the love I thought was solely reserved for you? And how could I have missed it after being enveloped by their warmth for so long?

You changed all of that. You made me see clearly for the first time in years and I was completely undone. Everything I knew was suddenly challenged, my feelings towards the most important person in my life changed without any warning, and I didn’t know what to do. How could I ask them, a friend, to see me as anything more? I was lost, trapped in an endless loop of destructive thoughts and desire. Desperately wanting to scream my feelings from the rooftop while fearing the voice that would have to put words to them. Your feelings for me awakened my feelings for them, and suddenly the words that have given me comfort for so long escaped me.

Still, you helped me.

In ways I can only thank with this letter.

You helped me because you are the one who told me to start writing letters. It’s always been you. You are the one who has given my thoughts meaning when I struggled to communicate with the world. One that could never understand someone like me. You are the one who wrote me a letter, asking a coward to help you be brave. It took me a while to realize that you were one and the same, but I picked up on the hints you left behind. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out.

Would you have showed up had I not asked you to come with me? I think about that often, were you only afraid because my initial thought was that there was no way it could be you? The impossible notion that my best friend could love me anymore than they already do? I have a thousand more questions I want to ask you, but I think I’m brave enough now to ask you in person.

So I’m going to end this letter here, because you deserve so much more than the words I’ve hidden behind for years. A letter I started to write for someone I thought I didn’t know, to the person I’ve never loved before. Funny, how it ended up being a letter to the person I’ve loved all along.

As you read the last line, tears already streaming down your face, you had never felt happier.

“You figured it out.” You whispered, almost in disbelief. “For a second there I thought you never would.”

You don’t know when Jihoon came back, but he was suddenly standing in front of you taking your hand in his. “It really shouldn’t have taken me that long, I’ve only seen your handwriting a thousand times before.”

Laughter bubbled past your lips as you dried your tears with your sleeve. “I was terrified that you would’ve figured me out from the very beginning. Looks like I really give you too much credit sometimes.”

“You do.” He agreed. “So, what did you think of the letter? Any edits you can think of?”

“This isn’t the type of letter that needs editing.” You stated plainly. “It would take away from the author’s meaning.”

“What would that be?” He asked, clearly teasing you. “Enlighten me.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No, no way. It’s your letter, why don’t you tell me what it’s supposed to mean?”

Part of him didn’t want to make it easy, that much you knew with absolute certainty. But, for the sake of time and your poor heart, he would let you off the hook. Just this once.

“That I love you.” He said softly. “More than anything else.”

Choking out a sob, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close.

“I love you too, Jihoon.”

In the end, neither of you were good with words, but you only needed to know what to say to each other.

[moonflower-31]

I Won't Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

(This is gonna be a series, so keep an eye out for this one if you like it.)

Summary: So imagine you're in the CM universe if you will. And you're just graduating from the academy. You're looking to join the BAU. You have hyperthymesia, the ability to never forget anything. Except for rare occasions. After the final exam, you run into one Dr. Spencer Reid. Eventually, you get accepted to shadow the BAU on a trial run as an agent. But you have a past that may endanger those you work with. Also, you love Spencer. Cause who doesn't?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader (this makes sense only for storyline, sorry 😞)

Masterlist

Please leave comments! I love reading them ❤ 💕

~~~~~~~~

Nervous. So dreadfully nervous you were and am. But here we are. No turning back now. 

"Hello, cadets. And welcome to your final exam for your graduation. We hope all of you do well. The FBI, as you know, has many branches. 56, to be exact. We hope that for those of you who pass, that you'll find your calling in one of our offices. For those of you who don't, don't fret. We always allow you to retake the last semester and the exams. The FBI is in desperate need of new agents." The speaker in front of me is seriously loud. Though you don't dare speak up about it. 

Associate Deputy Director Gail Franklin spoke with such elegance. She obviously has had practice, you think to yourself as you watch the grey-haired woman speak atop the raised portion of the testing room. You couldn't count how many people even if you tried. And you don't forget anything. 

"Psst!" 

You groan quietly and try to ignore your idiot but golden-hearted friend who couldn't sit still. 

"Psst! (Y/N)!"  

You ignore him again, focusing on Franklin's closing commentary.  

"I wish you all good luck. Please refrain from beginning your exam until all test-takers have received their tests. Thank you." She then proceeded to turn and begin her trek out of the room, the click of her heels being the only reminder she was even here. 

"Psst-! Come on, (Y/N/N)!" 

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. Finally, you turn your head and give your dear friend a very annoyed look. "What is it, Gabe? Like seriously, you couldn't sit still through one teansy tiny lecture? From the ADD herself?" You tease, pulling out a #2 pencil from your bag. Sure, most everyone will be using pens, but you remembered that the test scanners prefered graphite.

Gabriel whined teasingly at your jap. "No fair, (Y/N/N)! I just wanted to talk to one of my best friends. That too much to ask?" He sassily remarks, flipping his floppy golden-brown hair. 

You rolled your eyes and couldn't help but feel a smile form on your face. You loved him like a brother. But that also meant he annoyed you like one too. 

"You couldn't have waited till she was done?" You couldn't help but question him further. It was one of his weaker points. Under pressure, he tended to get uncomfortable. 

"Nope." Popping the 'p' he blew a kiss at you. "Anyway, how prepared do you think you are for this test? I almost made it an all-nighter trying to cram everything in again. Fuck me and my terrible memory." You grinned and giggled under your hand. 

"Gabriel, I told you, if you ever needed help studying I would be there. You're gonna do fine." 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Easy for you to say. You didn't even have to study with that god-given gift of a memory you got." 

You bite the inside of your cheek, faking a slight chuckle. Everyone thought remembering everything was a superpower. Sure, if you call superpowered headaches and occasional dizzy spells a super-side-effect. 

So, yes, you had the 'gift' of having hyperthymesia. The disorder where you never forgot anything. Of course, there were a few rare occasions, like you could only remember a handful of memories from before you were four. But other than that, you had nothing from your earliest childhood. It made you feel semi-normal. 

"It isn't a gift, Gabe. It's only a gift in the academic field. And I'm lucky to have a 'genius' IQ." You huffed in response to Gabriel's little comment. 

"Yeah yeah, but you have a filing cabinet for a memory. So why study? You have it all up there." He asks, taking the test packet from the assistant that had finally made it to him. 

"Studying, as a science, is a great way to improve your memory, quicken your speed of processing data and important information, and you stretch your mind's capacity for learning. Also it helps me understand a topic better. Just like anyone else." 

You take the packet from the assistant and widen your eyes slightly at the size. It was massive. At least the size of your tiniest textbook. You could almost hear Gabriel whimper next to you as he saw how big the packet was. At least you all had three and a half hours. And it wasn't required to get through all of them. Just try to do your best on the written response ones.

You turn to Gabriel and hold out your fist. "Good luck." 

Gabriel sighed and gave you a smile before pumping his fist gently against yours. Soon after he made a dramatic explosion noise that only you could hear. You roll your eyes and shake your head again, turning your full attention finally to the large test in front of you. 

Here goes nothing, you tell yourself. 

○●♡●○  

Remarkably, you think you did okay. Of course, you finished the test in the first hour and a half, but who's counting? Certainly not you. 

You rub your aching wrists from so much essay work as you exit the testing room. Even with an unbeatable memory like yours, your hands were still human. So they hurt like a bitch. 

You sigh and take a quick seat on the bench outside the room, probably sticking out like a sore thumb in a crowd of other cadets who weren't in your graduating class. But you tried not to pay it any mind. You were used to being the 'odd man out'. 

You check your phone and smile down at the message your other friend, Iris, had sent you. She wasn't testing for the FBI like you and Gabe. No she was a barista with some mean skills at mixing new drinks. She wanted to open her own cafe and Gabriel and you wanted to support her. She'd been there for you every second of the last five years. You owed her at least a little thanks. 

When you look up, you couldn't help but notice a tall, lanky looking man with long, curly hair walking towards you as he looked for…something. You couldn't tell. Probably a map. He had a gun holstered on the side of his belt along with a blurry ID you couldn't read from so far away. But it looked like it said FBI. 

You stifled a soft snicker. This guy could say he was a teacher's assistant and if he didn't have the gun on him, you would've believed him. 

And that's when you caught his eye and instantly you recognized who this lost puppy was. More specifically, who he belonged to. 

"Hi, uh I'm Dr. Spe-" he began, looking a bit nervous as he began to introduce himself. 

"Dr. Spencer Reid. From the Behavioral Analysis Unit. I've heard of you." You accidentally interrupt. "Sorry. I don't forget names easily. I don't forget them ever, really." 

Nervously, you rub your hand on your neck, waiting for his response. And surprisingly, it wasn't one you expected. 

Spencer widened his eyes a bit in wonder that someone knew of him that he hadn't met before on a case. And she knew which branch he worked in. He blushed a bit, growing a tad tongue tied. 

"S-sorry, I'm Cadet (L/N)." 

Spencer raised an eyebrow. He wondered why you didn't give him your first name. But he didn't pry. It was your personal business. And besides, it wasn't like he needed to know your first name. 

"U-uh yeah, actually. I-I wanted to ask you if you knew where I could get a glimpse of a map. Just so I can find my way around. I'm here for a 'lecture' that I'm helping give the graduating class of FBI agents." He couldn't help but brag a tiny bit. "It doesn't start for another 3 hours, but I like to be prepared." 

You smiled up at this tall nerd. And an incredibly cute one at that. He was so out of place you sympathized with him. He was basically you. In like, every academic scene you've ever been in. 

"Understandable. I'll be seeing you there hopefully. I'm a part of that class." You grinned. "But yeah, here's the map," you say, pulling up a digital map on your phone. Spencer leaned over your shoulder and looked it over. You couldn't help but shiver slightly at the sound of his breathing so close to your ear. It felt eerily calming. 

"Really?" He asked after he pulled away from your shoulder. "T-thank you for the map, by the way." He adds last-minute. You giggle gently and nod. 

"Yep. The test only started an hour and about 45 minutes ago, so I gotta wait a little while." Groaning playfully you shrug at him, crossing your arms to get more comfortable. You wouldn't lie, he was seriously cute. Of course, you'd seen him before on your secret internet dives. But in-person was so much better than sitting behind a screen gawking over a photo. An ID photo no less. 

"You already finished?" 

There it was. The immediate doubt of your intelligence everyone had when you accidentally showed your smarts. You sighed. "Yeah. Kinda hard not to with an IQ of 167 and a memory that pretty much never fails." You shrugged nervously, looking away as you braced yourself for his incoming doubt. 

"Oh. Hyperthymesia, right?" He inquires. You blink a few times and look at him like he just said something so foreign you didn't know how to respond. 

"U-uh...y-yeah. It's rare, but I got it. How'd you know?" 

"It was more of an educated guess. See, you bite the inside of your cheek when you're nervous," he points out. You in fact, were biting your cheek as he spoke. "And you seem unintimidated by me despite knowing of my position. You only grew nervous when I mentioned anything academic. Which proves to me you're used to being the smartest kid in the room. And having to explain why every time." He finishes, leaving you a gigantic puddle of impressed and embarrassed that he had profiled all of that from only a few minutes from conversation. 

"Geez, didn't expect to get profiled today. You're really good at it, you know. Well, I mean you would be. 'Cause you w-work for the BAU." You begin to ramble, groaning internally for suddenly turning into an awkward blob in front of this professional. 

Spencer smiled a bit wider and let out a soft laugh. "So, y-you want to work for the BAU?" 

You look at him puzzled for a moment before you remember that he'd been profiling you for the past five or so minutes. "Right, profiler…" you mutter. "Y-yeah. It's kinda been a dream of mine for years. Police officer never really appealed to me. I wanted to get into the real deal. Catch the hard criminals. Give myself a challenge, you know?" You rattle off, realizing just how comfortable you'd grown to Spencer in the short conversation you've had. 

Spencer nodded. "It was always a dream of mine as well. I was kinda groomed for it." He admitted. "S-so… any jitters at all? Did you know that t-the common feeling of nervousness or 'butterflies' is actually caused by the reduced blood flow to the abdomen. Your stomach's sensory nerves sense the lack of oxygen and blood and it produces the fluttery feeling you get before a test or before a big performance." 

You smile brighter. "Really? I never thought of that. I always just thought it was a signal your brain sent or something. That's interesting. I'm kinda glad I won't forget that." 

Spencer felt his surprise increase again. You hadn't cut him off. There was no 'Sorry I asked' or awkward asking if he always did this. You actually listened. And you wanted to hear more! He didn't think he'd ever find someone willing to listen. 

"H-heh…" Spencer chuckled. "W-well did you know that most people will forget 50 percent of the information you've been taught in one hour will be forgotten? A-and in 24 hours more than 75% of the information is gone. That's why studying is so important. It helps retain that information so it doesn't 'slip' as easily." He begins to rattle off again, quite glad he found someone who actually wanted to hear his statistics. It was a good cover for his nervousness about talking to this incredibly gorgeous woman. 

You tilt your head in interest, laughing gently. "That's what I keep saying! Yet everyone always asks 'Why study if you remember everything?'" You exclaim, making a whiny voice expression for the impression of absolutely every bully you'd had ever. 

A darker skinned man, who was much more gifted physically walked over as you and Spencer continued your conversation. He wrapped an arm around Spencer teasingly and nodded to you. 

"Hope this pretty boy ain't bothering you baby girl." He greets. "He's great once you get to know him." 

Spencer just looks annoyed at this man's sudden presence. "Seriously, Morgan? We were actually having a conversation before you butted in." He grumbled annoyedly. Then you remember the face. This was SSA Derek Morgan. You'd seen him in some pictures with Spencer. He wasn't too bad looking. In fact, you knew Iris would climb him faster than a squirrel did a tree. But Spencer was a bit more your type. 

Morgan raised an eyebrow and smirked at you. "Oh really? So now pretty boy's talking to girls?" He teases, letting Spencer free from his suffocating hold. He then extends a hand out to me. "Derek-" he started. 

"Derek Morgan. SSA from the BAU. Yeah, I know about you." You grinned. He looked you up and down a bit in the same interest that Spencer had. That soon was replaced by a confident smile. 

"So you know of me." He said in a clearly flirtatious tone. "Don't tell me you've been searching up my pictures in your freetime, babygirl." He flirts. 

You roll your eyes and take his hand, shaking it firmly. "No, I haven't. Though I have heard of you from my classes. But if I'm honest?" You begin. "I'm really wishing I could forget that comment." You sassily respond. He laughed. 

"No one ever forgets, Babygirl." He grinned. 

Spencer sighed and turned to Morgan in annoyance. "Morgan." He deadpanned. You looked towards him and giggled a little. It was clear Spencer had wanted to talk to only you. Maybe it was something to do with the statistics. You had a feeling that he felt he was finally being listened to. 

"What? I'm just introducing myself to one of the new cadets." He insists, raising two hands up in defeat. 

"Did you just profile me without my permission?" You ask him with fake offense. He laughed. 

"Did I need to ask, sweetheart?" He asks. You chuckle. 

"Guess not." You shrug. 

"What's your name, beautiful? A pretty face has got to have a pretty name." He flirted. 

"I'm Cadet (L/N)."

Morgan raised an eyebrow, fully ready to ask why the hold-up on your first name when Spencer thankfully saved you an explanation. 

"She didn't share it with me either. Probably a mode of trust." He explains. Morgan shrugged. 

"I'll find out eventually. You'll give it away." He insists. 

"Uh huh, sure I will." You tease. 

"Reid, Morgan, we need to prepare." You hear a third voice call the two men away from you. You stand a bit on your tiptoes to get a good look at who it was that was speaking. 

Aaron Hotchner walked towards the three of you almost with a purpose. So much confidence in one man. 

"Who is this?" He asked. 

"I'm Cadet (L/N), Agent Hotchner. It's a pleasure to meet you." You greet, holding out a hand to him. Hotch raised an eyebrow at you in interest before shaking your hand in earnest. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well. I've heard of your excellent grades and work in your studies. I hope to see you among the enlistees requesting the BAU." He greets, letting his hand fall back to his side. 

"That's the plan, Agent Hotchner." You chip pleasantly. Morgan seems genuinely surprised.  

"Wait, you're interested in the BAU? Profile me." He insisted. You blush from the sudden spotlight. 

"W-what?" You ask. 

"Morgan, that's enough." Hotch warns. 

"Leave her alone, Morgan." Spencer expressed. 

"No, it's fine." You assure. "Well, from the looks of your attire compared to your colleagues, I'd say you hate wearing formal clothing. Prefer to be comfortable. Your consistent flirty personality is mostly a show, as you wouldn't really flirt with someone you just met the way you flirted with me. So you either have someone in mind, or have a partner at home. And besides that, the way you greeted Dr. Reid proves you think of him as a younger brother, and you treat him like the brother you never had." You finished, a pleading voice in the back of your head screaming at you in hopes that you hadn't gone too far. 

Instead of being offended, Morgan began to smile and grinned, clearly impressed. "She's actually pretty good." He comments to Hotch, glancing to Spencer and then back to you. "You'd make a good profiler." He compliments. You smile happily and full of relief at him. 

"I sure hope so. Anyway, you should probably get going to the auditorium. The mics are a pain to tune and figure out, so I'd get it done now." You giggle slightly. 

Spencer nodded and smiled at you. "T-thank you, again. Cadet (L/N)." 

You couldn't help but blush a tad as he said your title. "Of course, Dr. Reid. Anytime you need directions." You tease. 

Morgan raised an eyebrow. "What about me?" He teased back. You mock think about it for a moment before you reply. 

"Sorry, I think you can figure it out, pretty boy." You joke, winking at him. He smiled brightly at your sass, chuckling a bit. 

Hotch then got your attention very easily. "It was a pleasure to meet you again, (L/N)." 

"You too. Good luck on the lecture." You bid them all fair well and turn around to take your seat again. 

"Ooh, somebody's in looove~!" You hear Gabriel sing in a sing-song voice. You chuckle and shake your head. 

"I am not in love, Gabriel. You just started eying the pretty boy I was talking to. You know, handsome black guy?" You tease. 

"Hmm, yeah, probably. But seriously. I saw you looking at that other kid, the professor's-aide-looking guy, like he was a mountain of sugar. And I know sugar." He teased, sipping a coke he had obviously bought after the test. 

"Oh shut up. Have you heard from Iris yet?" You ask. 

"Nope. She's probably busy over at The Bean. We should go visit. Tell her about your rendezvous with Mr. Teacher's aid." Gabriel snickered. 

"No, we are not telling Iris anything. You know how she gets. She gets all protective, and then nobody wants to go out with me cause they're all scared of her." You groan, stealing his coke for a moment. 

Gabriel smirks at you. "So you admit that you like him?" He teases. You immediately realize your mistake and groan, covering your reddening face. 

Gabriel chuckled and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "Come on, sugar-tits. Let's get out of here for a lil' bit. Come back for that 'lecture' in like an hour." He teased. You bring your hands away from your face and sigh. 

Did you really like him? Maybe. It was probably just an internet crush. Nothing more. It wasn't like it could get worse. 

[radiosandrecordings]

Ace fic request if ya feel: Jmart taking a bath together at Upton, w some nonsexual nudity/intimacy? Thank u!!

“Ahaha, I’ll ask for some ace fic prompts and do drabbles for it!” I said, naively. 3K words later. Thank you Gwyn for reading over this and fixing my typos because it is. now coming up to 5am because I decided to write 3K in one sitting

CWs for talk of nudity but no one ever gets full nakey. Jon also has a brief panic about not being able to protect Martin without the Eye.

Ao3 version too 

They’d probably been awake for an hour or so by the time the feeling of grime coating his skin became intolerable. 

It felt wrong, really, the juxtaposition of the soft, clean cotton under his head and the greasy knots his hair had woven itself into over the course of their journey. Like it was insulting to the pillow, the case of which, Jon guessed absently, was worth more than his entire bed back in his flat, if it was still standing.

And wasn’t that something? To have to guess that and not just be aware. As it normally was, the Beholding would inform him that that wasn’t quite true, as while the sheets on this bed were certainly nice they were more chosen for display purposes than with the intent of anyone truly sleeping in them. The house was a museum. The curators had not supposed upon the current scenario. 

The current scenario being that there were two men lying in it, half asleep, lying still and just staring at each other with an eye-watering fondness. They had spoken, when they first awoke. Got out all the words they wanted to say. The “Where are we” and the “How long were we asleep?” and the “Is it finally safe to rest?” and the “I love you so, so much.” 

Now the thing to break the silence was the sound of Martin’s stomach making its discontent known. This, of course, sent them both into peals of laughter, because when was the last time they’d felt mundane hunger? 

“Do you think they even have food here?” Martin asks, still buried up to his neck in duvet. 

“Perhaps? Salesa surely has to eat, if we do.” 

“Yeah, but Annabelle though,” Martin chews his lip in mock contemplation. “What if we go downstairs and open up all the cupboards and it’s just… Flies as far as the eye can see, all wrapped up for eating. There’s one in the fridge all done up on a platter like a Christmas ham. Cloves spiked into it and all.” 

Jon winces. “I’d really rather not picture that right now, if you don’t mind.”

“Ah, course,” Martin says, looking slightly sheepish as they lapse into silence again. “Should probably go check though. Don’t exactly want to have gotten through all that just to starve. Though I’d happily let this be my death bed, honestly. Don’t think I’ve slept that well in… Ever.” 

“Mmh, now that you mention it, I’m quite peckish as well… Odd, that. Had almost forgotten what it felt like.” Jon heaves himself into a sitting position, and takes stock of the door to his left. “Probably the bathroom. Ensuite. Very nice.” 

“You want to get cleaned up before we go scavenging?” Martin asks, prying the duvet away like he’s pulling teeth. Jon feels bad that they can’t just stay in bed all day. He hadn’t been able to sleep, in the safe house, but Martin had chosen to dream. He might be biased, but Jon figures that that was probably worse. Martin seemed now to be relishing the opportunity to relax.

“I think we rather need it. Not keen to embarrass ourselves in front of our hosts a second time, so I’d rather not appear downstairs looking like something the cat dragged in.” Jon shoves the duvet away and gets, somewhat shakily, to his feet. Damn. No Beholding means the pain from- Where- The wound… His leg hurts. It means his leg hurts something fierce. He hopes he can stand in the shower. 

When he makes his way over to the door and swings it open, it turns out not to be a concern. The bathroom, in the fashion of the rest of the house, has no shower. Instead, a comically beautiful bathtub sits against the opposing wall. It’s a clawfoot, gold varnish painted over its feet where porcelain turns to antique wood. 

“You want to go first then?” Martin asks, slowly pulling the duvet around himself again. 

Jon rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’ll go on ahead. You enjoy the extra time.” 

Martin gives him a smug look and burrows down again. God, Jon really, really loves him. Which is why, when he puts his hand on the door handle to close it behind him, he freezes. 

Statement readings aside, this will be the first time Martin has been out of his sight in… However you choose to categorize the indefinite amount of time they spent roaming the hellscape. And even then, Jon had his powers. If anything threatened Martin he’d be there to help him. To save him. The Eye offers no such comfort now. Jon doesn’t want to close the door. He doesn’t want Martin out of his line of sight. Not with Annabelle here. He won't leave him alone, not now. 

“... Jon? You okay?”

Jon realises he’s been standing in the doorway for at least a minute now, hand frozen in indecision. He blinks a few times, trying to bring his eyes back into focus. He opens his mouth, and finds himself gaping slightly, looking for the words. 

Martin shifts, sitting back up again. “Jon, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

It comes out like a croak. “I- I don’t Know.”

Martin’s tone is gentle, placating, two hands gently offered out in Jon’s direction. “You don’t know what’s wrong?”

“No, I don’t Know,” he can feel tears beading at the corners of his eyes and tries to push down the lump in his throat. He’s gone this long without crying, why does he have to go and do it now, ruin the peaceful moment that he’d watch Martin lapse into like a drowning man with air. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Martin hushes, sliding out of bed and walking round from his side. He brings his arms around Jon and just lets them stay there, not pulling him against his chest in a restrictive grasp, but just laying his hands against his back, letting him know he’s there. 

Despite his best attempts, Jon lets out a hiccup. “And- And that should be a good thing. It should. I don’t want to Know. But it’s… I’ve spent so long with this constant presence at the back of my skull and now it feels… It’s raw and it’s vulnerable. Annabelle Cane could be a wall away and I’m vulnerable and that means you are too. If I’m in another room, I can’t Know if something is wrong, and more importantly, if something does go wrong I can’t save you.”

The right wrapped around to hold Jon’s left hip, Martin’s free hand has been tracing soothing patterns into his back through his shirt. It stills when Jon finishes. He takes a moment, before breathing out heavily through his nose. He leans back slightly so he can look down and match eye levels. 

“Jon,” he says, and his voice is as soft as that duvet felt. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. I’m so sorry. I thought being free of the Eye would be a good thing, I didn’t even consider how it would feel for you. I can’t promise nothing will go wrong, because… Well, our track record speaks for itself. But I can try and ease your fears.” He brushes Jon’s fringe out of the way, and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. “Tub seems pretty big. How do you feel about taking a bath together?” 

Jon feels his face, flushed from tears, pale. And oh what a relief, to feel a fear so comparatively… Mundane. To not be afraid of the cosmic monstrosity in the back of your brain, or the spiders with motives that scuttle across the ceiling, or the fact that you are responsible for the suffering of billions. Oh to be afraid of… Intimacy. 

Martin must feel him tense, because the hand on his back drops away, and the one at his hip loosens its grip. “I’m sorry, if that’s too much, we can just-”

“No,” Jon cuts him off, and is surprised at his own voice. “No, I… I would like that. That sounds nice.”

He knows it’s from his earlier anxieties, but Martin must still be able to feel Jon trembling slightly under his hand, because he continues to give Jon a sceptical look. 

“Forgive me for being blunt, but you really don’t seem up for that. If that’s not in your… Intimacy wheelhouse, I get it.” 

“I’m just a little shaken, is all,” Jon says, but he knows there’s a truth to Martin’s words. He knows Martin respects him and his orientation, they’d had long discussions about it in the safe house, about boundaries and desires and how Jon wanted to spend his days glued to Martin’s side but he under no circumstances wished to have sex with him. He knows that this isn’t what that is, that Martin means it in the most innocent fashion imaginable, but there’s still something about the idea of close, physical proximity while naked that makes the hairs on his arm stand on end and his stomach churn. 

It’s not that he was bashful about it. He’d seen Martin naked before, gotten changed in the same room most mornings and evenings in the safe house, but that was just a symptom of existing in the same space, never something actively done with the intent to exhibit. It had, predictably, stirred no feelings in him. The idea of them so close while not clothed… No, that wouldn’t be happening. 

“I- Can I make one request, though?” Jon asks, tilting his no longer watery eyes up to meet Martin’s. 

“Anything,” Martin replies, no hesitation to be found. 

Jon feels his face flush again, and the rapid pooling and draining of blood from his face must be doing terrible things to his circulation. “Can- Can we keep our underwear on? Please? God, sorry, that must sound horribly childish-” 

“No, no that’s okay. Whatever you need to feel comfortable,” Martin says and his voice is not so much laced with sincerity as built from bricks of it. 

They break apart and Martin ambles through the doorway and over to the bath, turning the water on. It sputters, clearly struggling after years of disuse, but after a few seconds it flows clear. Martin waits for the brackish residue to be cleaned away before popping the plug into place.

Jon preoccupies himself with looking over the shelves. They were well stocked, likely by Salesa, as Jon has a hard time believing that plastic bottles full of opalescent purple liquid were considered period appropriate set dressing. He pops the lid open on one and is met by a strong whiff of lavender. He tucks it under his arm before swiping a shampoo and matching conditioner. 

“Find something you like?” Martin asks, leaning against the edge of the tub. Jon hums a response before joining him. The tub was filling up quickly now, almost half way full and the water is pleasantly warm when he drags his fingers through it. Jon deposits two of the bottles where they can be grabbed when needed, before taking the lavender body wash and drawing swirls into the water until a layer of foam and bubbles begin to build on the surface. 

When Jon turns back to face Martin, his fingers are twitching at the hem of his t-shirt. Whoever was responsible for transferring them from cold marble floor to warm bed had also seen to it that their shoes were removed, as well as their bags and coats, which Jon had seen folded and placed over a chair in the corner of the bedroom. They were both down to their now ripped, muddied and bloodied trousers, and two v-neck t-shirts from the same set, Jon’s of which was tucked into his jeans to disguise the fact that it was several sizes too large. What possible conclusion could be drawn from that?

Martin cleared his throat. “Do you mind, then, if I…?”

“Yes, of course, go ahead.” 

Martin pulled his shirt over his head. 

It’s not that Jon didn’t find him attractive. He did, very much so, just in the romantic sense. So seeing Martin shirtless was similar to seeing him in a particularly flattering outfit. It didn’t change the way he felt about him, just intensified it. He was very handsome and Jon enjoyed getting to look at him. 

He pulls his own shirt over his head, before turning back to trail his hands through the water again, trying to gage the temperature and encourage more bubbles. When he turns back to face Martin again, he’s fiddling with his belt, eventually getting it undone and letting his trousers drop. Jon does the same. And then nothing more happens, and Jon breathes a sigh of relief. It’s not that he hadn’t trusted Martin to keep his word and not fully strip on him, it was just.. It was a relief. 

“Shall we?” Martin asks, gesturing towards the water. 

“Let’s,” Jon responds, hooking one leg over the edge before stepping fully into the bath, and letting himself sink below the water. 

He’s just about acclimated when suddenly the water is rising slightly as Martin joins him, placing himself at the other end of the tub. There’s not enough room for his legs, so he ends up with his knees close to his chest, sticking out of the water. Jon’s just about fit, stretching down to the other end of the bath and bracketing each side of Martin’s hips. 

If the bed was heaven, this is absolutely blissful. The warm water surrounds his aching joints, slowly massaging them as it laps around him. The water, just seconds earlier clean and pure, is already starting to take on a stale quality as the dirt begins to slough off of the two of them, but Jon can’t bring himself to care for relief that it’s no longer coating his skin. He thinks the lavender may have been a bad choice, because between it and the warmth he’s finding it hard not to fall asleep again. 

“This okay?” Martin asks, because he’s still worried about Jon and his comfort and that makes his heart ache with affection, that someone would care that much about him and his boundaries. 

“Far more than okay,” he responds, dragging one hand down the other arm in an attempt to get some stubborn filth off. Martin is doing the same, except he’s wisely taken a sponge from somewhere and is scrubbing at a spot on his ankle where his trouser and boot hadn’t quite met and the Buried had decided to leave a crusted circle in its wake. 

They sit in silence for quite a while, each taking care of their own needs before Jon reaches one arm out of the bath to make a swipe at the bottle of shampoo. 

“Here, let me,” Martin says, breaking the quiet. He shifts forward slightly, on instinct, before pausing and rocking back slightly. “If you want, that is. Do you?” 

“Do I what?” 

“Do you want me to do your hair? It’s just- It’s probably easier, y’know, than you trying to do it yourself.” 

“And far more romantic,” Jon adds, smiling as he leans over to press a kiss to Martin’s freshly cleaned cheek. 

“That too. Do you want to turn around?” 

Jon answers wordlessly by shifting until he’s facing away from Martin. He’s surprised, but not unpleasantly so, when Martin’s arms wrap around him and gently pull him backwards until his back is just shy of flush with Martin’s chest. It’s very intimate. It’s very nice. 

“That okay?” Martin asks again, and more than ‘I love you’, that’s a phrase Jon will never grow tired of hearing because it means Martin truly cares for his comfort. 

“Absolutely.” 

“Good,” Martin says, as he uncaps the shampoo and pours a small puddle of it into his hands. Even turned away, Jon can smell the wafts of artificial apple scenting in the stuff. 

When Martin starts to gently drag his fingers against Jon’s scalp, he can feel himself almost melt under the touch. His spine loses all tension and he lets himself fall back entirely against Martin’s chest, and it’s only the knowledge that he needs to keep still for Martin to actually do his job that stops him from turning and burrowing his face there. 

“I really hope that was a positive thing and you haven’t just fainted on me. Like, literally on me,” Martin says from behind him and this close, pressed up against him Jon can feel it reverberating in Martin’s chest. 

“Still conscious, don’t worry. That’s just… Very nice.” 

“Oh! Well… Good.” 

This continues for a few minutes, Martin slowly making his way from the scalp down to the roots of Jon’s hair, untangling it with his fingers and then repeating the process with the conditioner until his hair ran smooth under Martin’s hands. Even when Jon knows he’s long finished any actual hair care, Martin continues to run his fingers through the hair, just because. Jon loved him for it.

Eventually, both of Martin’s hands come to rest against Jon’s torso. “This okay?” 

“Yes. I don’t mind any of the touching, as long as it’s… Nowhere previously established to be out of bounds.” 

“Gotcha,” Martin says, pressing a kiss to Jon’s shoulder that makes his brain fizzle like fireworks. 

It takes Jon a minute to fully realise what Martin is doing. Two hands trace lines along his ribcage, one on each side, thumbs gently drawing and redrawing a pattern. His scars. 

Then, the hands travel upwards. Again, two lines along his chest, traced with as much tender care, and Jon’s brain has gone a little fuzzy. He’s unused to such casual touching. There is nothing hurried about it, no urgency, no purpose other than to make him feel good. To make him feel loved and cherished, and if he’s being honest, it’s working. No ulterior motive. This isn’t the lead up to anything. It just exists on it’s own as an experience he gets to have without worrying about what comes after, because he knows the answer is nothing. 

After, Martin shifts slightly, leaning forward. One hand cups Jon’s elbow, raising that arm out of the water as one by one, from shoulder to palm, Martin makes his way down pressing a soft kiss to each and every circular scar. He repeats the process with the other arm. As if to finish it off, he presses a slow, soft, close mouthed kiss to the line that stretches across the front of Jon’s neck.

He’s perfect. Martin Blackwood is perfect and Jon doesn’t know what he did to deserve… This. This quiet barrage of love, the consideration and care poured into it something Jon never thought he would be worthy of, let alone have become a reality.

Jon twists to lie sideways, pressed against Martin with his head tucked under Martin’s chin. Martin’s knees bracket his shoulders on either side and he feels safe. He is in the eye of the storm, a brief respite from the dreadful horrors that ravage the world outside their bubble, but with Martin Blackwood he is safe.

[rafecameron]

idk if u do rqst but i love ur writing! can u do jj x reader in a secret relationship bc shes a kook & also kiara’s enemy? maybe kiara having a lil crush on jj and when she found out, thats when the drama happens? kie confronts y/n and they get into a fight!! 🤭 im sorry if you dont do requests ): just ignore this then!

thank you so much for requesting! I haven’t written for JJ in so long I hope this is okay!

You didn’t necessarily enjoy sneaking around. You hated lying to your friends about where you were and what you were doing but you knew it was for the best. You knew your friends would look down on you for dating a pogue, but that wasn’t even what you were worried about. It was his friends. One friend in particular. Kiara. You knew kiara from school and you even used to hang out with her during her kook year. You were never what you would have called friends but you got along and were civil so when she completely turned on you at the end of last year you were more than a little surprised.

You had tried to talk to her, even if you didn’t much care for her you didn’t want any animosity between the two of you. But she hadn’t wanted to know and you’d given up trying pretty quickly. If she wanted to isolate herself from the whole school then you’d leave her to it. You never imagined your paths would have to cross much again besides sharing the same maths class. But then JJ had happened. And it hadn’t meant to happen.

You’d been at a kegger, nothing unusual about that. But your friend had ditched you to hook up with a touron so you’d found yourself wandering around the fire pit alone and more than a little intoxicated. That’s when you’d bumped into him. You’d seen him around before but you’d never spoken nor had the chance to get a god look at him. And now you had? You were enchanted. His messy blonde hair wasn’t something you’d usually find attractive but it suited him. You got lost in his blue eyes, eyes full of hope and laughter. You’d spent hours sitting with him, talking and laughing. Until kiara had appeared and all but ripped him from your side.

“Kiara what the hell?” You’d asked jumping up from the log you were sat on with a glare.

“Stay the hell away from my friends.” She spat back with a scowl to match yours.

JJ had intervened before a fight could break out, he held kiara back, profusely apologising to you before pulling her away. He’d found you on Instagram the day after and sent you another apology and since then you’d been practically inseparable.

“Do you think we will ever tell anyone?” You ask. Your chin was resting against JJ’s chest as you looked up at him, the sunlight coming through your window casting an ethereal glow across his tanned skin.

“I dunno y/n.” JJ sighs, he hated when you brought this topic up, “it’s complicated.”

“I know,” you lift your head, reaching a hand up to caress his cheek lightly, “but I mean in the future. Surely we can’t hide forever.”

JJ lifts his head, eyes softening as they meet yours, “one day yeah. Don’t think I don’t ever want the whole world to know you’re mine, cause I do.”

You quickly crawl up his chest and plant a kiss to his lips, the smile on your face making it hard to kiss him properly, “I want the whole world to know I’m yours. I want kiara to know I’m yours, so she can stop eyeing you up.”

JJ rolls his eyes and drops his head back with a groan, “not this again,” you hear him sigh, “she does not have a crush on me, y/n.”

“Yes she does!” You sit up, straddling his lap so you could look down at his face, “you don’t see the way she looks at you! Also, you’re completely oblivious to everything. I was dropping hints for weeks before finally out right saying I liked you.” You roll your eyes.

“That was different! I just convinced myself you would never be interested in a pogue like me.” JJ looks up at you, a small shrug rolling off his shoulders.

“JJ you know I don’t care about that stuff.” You lean down placing a kiss lightly to his lips.

“I know that now.” JJ replies, placing his hands on your hips as he kisses you again.

—-

It had been months since you’d started dating JJ, seven to be exact. And you’d both done a pretty good job at hiding the fact from other people. Your parents were out most of the time and your neighbours were elderly so it wasn’t hard to sneak him in and out of your house. You’d been to his a couple of times but he liked to keep you away from his dad as much as possible and you were perfectly okay with that.

You were currently attending what you were sure would be the last kegger of the year as the nights were starting to get noticeably colder as winter rolled around. You had a hoodie on, oversized and pulled over your hands to protect against the chill. You found it increasingly hard to stay away from JJ at keggers, because every time your eyes found him there was some touron trying desperately to get into his pants. You trusted JJ but that didn’t mean you liked to see it.

Your eyes were only pulled away from the blonde as a commotion broke out behind you. You weren’t at all surprised to see Rafe tackling someone to the ground, Topper not far behind him. Before you knew it there was at least eight people rolling around in the sand fighting. You tried to get away from the punches but before you knew it someone had been thrown in your direction, tumbling into your legs and pulling you to the ground with them. You let out a squeal as you fell backwards into the sand, hurting your lower back as you landed.

“Get off of me.” You growled pushing the drunk kook away from your legs.

“Y/N!” You heard your name being shouted, the kook was lifted away from you and chucked into the sand and suddenly JJ’s concerned face appeared in front of yours, “are you okay?” He asks his hands coming to rest on your shoulders as he looks you up and down for any obvious injuries.

“I’m fine.” You smile resting your hands gently on his wrists, “my back hurts a little but I’ll be okay. People will see.” You tried to pry his hands away but he wouldn’t let you.

“I don’t care, that asshole could have seriously hurt you!” JJ complains, his hand moves to your cheek, “are you sure you’re okay?”

You open your mouth but you don’t get a chance to reply. “What the hell is this?” Kiara asks appearing behind JJ with a look of disgust on her face, “JJ? What the fuck?”

JJ looks at her over his shoulder, his brows furrowed in a scowl, “back off kiara, nows not the time.”

“I think nows a perfect time to explain what the fucks going on.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest as her friends join her, confused looks crossing their faces.

“Kiara-“ you begin but she cuts you off.

“I wasn’t talking to you! I swear to god if you’re messing with him I’ll beat the crap out of you.” Kiara steps forward, popes hand on her shoulder stops her.

JJ stands up, helping you up with him, “she’s not messing with me! We’ve been dating for seven months. We didn’t tell you because we knew this is how you’d react.”

“Seven months?” Kiara splutters out, “what the hell? If you’re using him for some plot to get back at me-“

“I’m not using him!” You step around JJ and closer to Kiara, “I have no plot to get back at you because I have no reason to! You’re the one with a problem here not me! I’m sorry that you’re like in love with him or something but he isn’t interested!”

“I’m not in love with him, you have no idea what you’re talking about.” Kiara steps forward again, now only inches separating the two of you.

“Okay let’s calm down a minute.” John B speaks up pulling Kiara back as JJ tugs on your arm, “I think we should hear them out before starting any fights.”

“Look, I’m sorry that I’ve been lying to you guys, but I knew the reaction we’d get. And we really like each other, we didn’t want anything to ruin it.” JJ explains with a sigh, “and in y/n’s defense, she wanted to come clean months ago, it was me who said no.”

“Well I didn’t see this coming.” Pope speaks up but he smiles and lets out a chuckle, “it explains why you’ve been so damn happy lately man.”

“You’ve really been dating for seven months?” John B asks with raised brows, you both simply nod in answer, “Look, I’m okay with it. Like Pope said, this is the happiest we’ve seen you in a long time.”

“Well I am not okay with this!” Kiara cuts in with a frown, “you know how I feel about her! I can’t believe you guys don’t even care.” She shoots you another glare before turning on her heel and storming off.

The boys watch her walk away for a few seconds before turning back to you, “we’ll talk to her, she’ll come around.” John B sighs and hurried after her.

“I’m happy for you guys!” Pope calls over his shoulder with a grin as he follows after his friend.

JJ lets out a huff of breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, “that went bad, but not nearly as bad as I expected.”

“Are you kidding? She wanted to smash my face in!” You complain.

“Babe, she always wants to smash your face in.” JJ looks at you with a cheeky grin, “but at least I can do this now.”

He grabs your hips and leans forward, his lips meet yours in a slow kiss, your arms wrap around his neck and hold him close to you, “and I don’t care who sees.” He mumbles against your lips before connecting them again.

[nagitoandkokichioneshots]

A Sick Hope

"Great! I'll be there in ten!" I hung up the phone, jumping off the sofa. I grabbed my (F/C) backpack from the coffee table and made my way into mine and Nagito's shared bedroom. It was going to be the first time I'd be seeing my best friends in a while. Between finals coming up and wedding preparations for me and Nagito, we barely even had time to breath. Luckily Sonia invited all her closest girlfriends to her place to blow off some steam before finals week, which many of them agreed to

One of them happened to be me!

As I was stuffing my pjs and my toothbrush into my backpack, I felt a pair of skinny arms snake around my waist. I yelped at the sudden pressure placed on my stomach, but turned my head, seeing my fiance. As I sighed in relief, I let go of my backpack strap, letting it gently plop on the bed

"Ah, there's my angel of hope," Nagito chuckled lightly, planting a gently kiss on my cheek. I smiled only for a split second before prying away from his arms, slapping his arm gently

"You idiot! You don't usually get off classes this early! I thought you were a robber or something," I scolded him, pouting. As I crossed my arms, the white haired boy frowned, sulking

"I'm so sorry, my angel. I didn't mean to upset you," He sniffled, looking down. I mentally sighed to myself. Nagito and I have been together for almost five years and he still goes on about how someone as beautiful and hopeful as me shouldn't be so blind to date a piece of trash like him. Well, better shut him up before he goes on his usual "I don't deserve you" rant, no matter how many times I assure him

I placed a kiss on his lips, smiling gently at him. "Nagito, I was joking. But you did startle me. It's not even 6 yet and you usually get home from your night classes at 8:30. What happened?" I asked him. His face light up again, relieved that I wasn't mad at him anymore. He crossed his arms, smiling at me

"My professor ended early since we're ahead of the syllabus. But enough about me. Where is my angel of hope going tonight?" He asked, pointing to my backpack

"Oh, Sonia called me and a few of our friends. We're going to have a sleepover at her place to blow off some steam before finals," I explained, grabbing the straps of it again. I double checked that I had everything I needed as Nagito grabbed a water bottle from the table, taking a sip from it

"I see. I hope you girls have fun. But you'll text me once you get there, right? Oh! And please stay safe, alright? I can't have anything happening to my ray of hope. I know you're allergic to nuts so double check with Sonia if the food you have has any. Oh! And if you feel sick, and Mikan isn't there, call me and I'll be there t--"

I shushed Nagito with a peck on his lips, chuckling. I shook my head, knowing damn well after all this time, Nagito was still overprotective of his 'angel of hope'. I couldn't really blame him though. I don't say that to sound conceited, but besides Hajime and sometimes Chiaki, I was basically his only support system. To say he was a bit clingy was an understatement. For the first few weeks of us dating, I would've been lucky if he let me use the bathroom

"Marshmallow, don't worry about me. I'll be just fine. Sonia knows all my allergies and Mikan will be there in fact. So I'll be A-okay!" I smiled, slinging my backpack across my shoulders. Nagito smile, kissing my forehead

"Alright, whatever you say, angel. But please text me when you get there atleast," He pleaded, throwing his own backpack onto a chair. I promised him one last time before slipping on my converse sneakers, heading out

***********************************************************************************************

"(Y/N)! It's been so long! How have you've been?" Sonia welcomed me into her home with a warm smile and open arms. Since we finished Hope Peaks Academy, Sonia decided to settle down in Japan for a little while longer to go to college with her friends. Her apartment wasn't far from mine and Nagito's. Which also meant that it didn't look anything out of the ordinary from a normal apartment. Well, Sonia did say that she wanted to be treated like a normal girl

"Hey Sonia! I've been great, thanks for asking. Well....aside from school and the whole...learning thing," I chuckled, as I set my backpack down on the floor. I saw Mikan, Ibuki, and Chiaki all sitting on her couch, bundled in a bunch of blankets, watching Mean Girls on the TV. Ibuki was the first one to notice me and hollered to me

"YOOOO-HOOO!!! (Y/N), Ibuki is so glad you made it! Sit with us!" She patted an extra space for me on the couch, right between her and Mikan. I chuckled at Ibuki being...well Ibuki, but gladly accepted her offer, squeezing myself between them

"Hey girls, did I miss anything?" I asked them, as Ibuki handed me a bowl full of white cheddar popcorn. Mikan smiled lightly, shaking her head

"Not at all, (Y/N). We just popped in the movie before you came," Mikan gleamed happily, but her rare cheerful expression was replaced with her usual anxious face in a moment

"O-Or we can pick out a-another movie for you, (Y/N)! OH! Or do a-anything you want to do, (Y/N)! It was stupid of me to assume you even wanted to watch a movie in the first place! Please f--"

"Mikan, please relax. That is nothing to stress over. I'd be more than happy to watch Mean Girls," I calmed my close friend down, as I gently took the popcorn bowl from the musician

As I was reaching for a greedy handful of popcorn, I felt a sudden pain spike across my forehead. I winced, pressing three fingers to it. My slight grimace was apparently enough to snap the gamer girl, who was playing Super Mario Brothers on her Nintendo Switch, look up at me.

"(Y/N)? Are you okay?" Chiaki asked, pausing her game. Sonia frowned too, seeing me press my hand against my head

"Yeah. I heard you suck in a breath, (Y/N). I hope you're alright," she said, kneeling down to the side of me. She offered me a can of ginger ale, which I smiled and took

"Thank you for your concern, girls. But I'm fine. Really," I assured them, gently peeling off my hand from her forehead. Mikan's nervous expression quickly returned to her face, hearing my side

"E-Excuse me for interrupting, but you don't really sound so confident, (Y/N). If you really aren't feeling well, you should rest for a bit," she suggested. Before I could reassure her once more, she squeaked, blushing

"Eep! I'm so sorry, (Y/N)! I didn't mean to call you out on lying. I understand if you totally hate me and never want to—"

"Mikan, Mikan, calm down. I'm okay, I promise. And besides, even if I did have a little headache, that won't stop me from having a great time with my girls!" I cheered, pumping my fist. This caught Ibuki's attention as she encouraged the sleepover to go on as well

"Now that's the spirit! Come on, Sonia! Let's play this bad boy already and get our sleepover on! Ibuki even has a mixtape she prepared for us to jam out later!" She smiled proudly. Sonia gave her an approving smile, as she pressed play on the remote and sat down next to Chiaki, already on the third level of her game

The rest of the night wasn't so fun for one single person.....

"Wow, I'm pretty exhausted if I say so myself. What about you girls?" Sonia asked her friends, turning to the couch to talk to them. Chiaki didn't need to answer as she was already asleep on the floor, hugging her Nintendo close to her. Mikan was spraying some setting spray on her newly painted burgundy nails, and Ibuki was clearing up the music CD's she brought along

"I am getting a bit tired myself," Mikan yawned, putting the spray back on the table. "Maybe we should get to bed. After all, 22 year old girls should be getting a proper 8 to 10 hours of sleep," she smiled, but it suddenly turned into a frown. She ran her hands through her hair, panicking once again

"U-unless you guys aren't tired yet! If that's the case, it's fine! We can stay up all night and tell ghost stories! Or watch more movies! I didn't mean to sound boring! Please forgive my ig—"

"Mikan, chill girl! In fact, some sleep does sound like a great idea. I'm a bit b-....." I was about to agree with Mikan, but I just stared at the floor, not....doing anything. Why wasn't my body complying with me? Why....didn't I want to move?

"Huh? Hey, Ibuki to (Y/N)! You hear Ibuki?!" The ultimate musician practically screamed at me, waving a hand in my face. Nothing. I...I didn't feel like getting up. Almost like I was out of fuel, despite the snacks we all filled up on

"(Y/N)? Are you okay? What are you thinking about?" Sonia asked, sitting next to me. She tried shaking my shoulder, not getting a response from me. Ibuki got up and retrieved Mikan for me. The nurse crouched down to my height, feeling my forehead

"Eep! (Y/N)?! You're burning up! You have a serious fever!" She squealed, standing up. I mustered all the energy left in my body to even look at my shy friend, but my eyes looked glazed and cloudy. Sonia gasped, as she felt my warm cheek with her hand

"Mikan is right! (Y/N), you feel really hot!" The blond exclaimed, getting up. She ran to her landline, dialing a number

"N-No! Don't call...." I tried to shout at her, but something that was barely above a whisper came out from my pale lips. Suddenly, the sharp pain from earlier sent hurtful waves through my stomach. I yelped in pain, falling to my knees from the couch. Ibuki gasped, as she tried to steady me with Mikan. Mostly because I was an inch away from crushing a sleeping Chiaki

"I'm calling Nagito," Was all I heard Sonia say before my world got black, blocking out all my senses

***********************************************************************************************

When I woke up, I felt something ice cold resting on my head. I felt a heavy pressure next to the bed I was lying in, the sheets pulled loosely, but comfortably to my chest

Wait? I was in my bed?!

I looked up and saw Nagito looking at me as if I was a dead body. I saw that his eyes were a bit puffy and red around the edges. And wait....were those dried tears that rolled down his cheeks?

"(Y/N)! Oh, my ray of hope," he immediately yanked my hand from under the blankets and kissed my hand all the way to my forearm

"(Y/N), I was so worried! When Sonia called me and told me you felt ill, I felt despair building up inside me. How can I be so blind not to notice there was something wrong with my hope? I'm such a disgusting excuse for a human...." he mumbled, not looking me in the eye. I frowned, caressing his cheek

"Naggie, you aren't a disgusting excuse for a human. Never talk bad about yourself again, I keep telling you this. I didn't even feel sick until I arrived at Sonia's. In fact, I'd say you arrived just on time," I gave him a weak smile, making him flash me a gentle one

"Do you really mean that? Oh, it makes me so happy that my darling angel is praising trash like—" I cut him off with a death stare, scary enough to even make Gundham run away. He cleared his voice, continuing with his statement

"My angel is praising me," he corrected himself, making me smile again. However, that smile only lasted for a split second as I grimaced again, feeling another painful headache rush through my skull. I sat up quickly to get a better grip on the ice pack on my head, but Nagito gently pushed me down

"No, no, no, angel. You're too weak, don't get up so early. I'll be back with some medicine and tea. After that, I can prepare a bath for you. I was about to get in the shower before Sonia called me, so I didn't wash up either," He got up from the bed, only for me to grab his arm with a feeble grip

"Can I rest a bit more with you before we take that bath?" I asked him, making him grin sweetly at me, nodding

"Of course, darling. I'll be back in a minute with some tea and medicine for you," He told me before he placed a loving kiss on my temple, going out of our bedroom. I smiled, snuggling against the sheets. I took in the scent of toasted bagels and a hint of chocolate chip cookies, knowing damn well that was Nagito's scent (and that he was snacking on the bed earlier). I felt myself drift off into another sleep spell, smiling at the fact that me and Nagito were both lucky enough to end up with each other

[imagineaworlds]

Rules & Roses

“you’re late”

Written By: @desperately-bisexual​

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing, mention of death. Pretty sure that’s it.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Non-binary!Reader x Emily Prentiss (poly triad)

Word Count: 2046

“You’re late,” I said to him while grinning. He shook his head, trying to stop himself from laughing so that he could focus on running up to me.

Aaron Christopher Hotchner was his name. Though I had learned a lot about him since we officially started talking on that cold Tuesday morning, I still thought of him as that six foot Nordic God. He hated that nickname, though. No matter how many times I used it, he never gave in, but I liked teasing him with it. Only two weeks had passed since we first started talking, and yet it seemed like we knew each other a lifetime. More than that, actually. My worries of talking to a stranger faded quickly the more we passed each other on the trail, then would chat as we walked to our cars. It was a nice, unspoken ritual we had. But it always started like this. No matter if it was warm or cold, sunny or cloudy, busy or quiet, we met at that park bench at the top of the U-turn. Usually, we ran beside each other, or he would be waiting up for me. This time, I was waiting on him. That wasn’t usual.

“How am I late?” he asked.

I looked at my watch. “It’s 7:17.”

“So?”

“You never reach the bench later than 7:15.”

Aaron smiled and put his hands on his hips to help him catch his breath. “Who’s stalking who now?”

“I never said you stalked me. Those are your own words.”

“Ha. Ha.” He panted for another second. “My son woke up late, so I got here late.”

I froze. During our little conversations here and there, he had never once mentioned anything about having a family. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, he seemed more than happy to flirt with me, and he never, ever said anything about having a son. This whole time, I thought he was an available man. I would have never flirted with him if I knew that he was taken, that he had other promises and responsibilities besides meeting me, practically a stranger, in the park every morning. Of course someone like him would have been snatched up by someone else. Of course the one person I saw myself potentially getting involved with since moving to D.C. was the one person I couldn’t have. My fucking luck, right? I was so stupid. How did I not see it before? Why did I get involved in all of this in the first place? I promised myself I wouldn’t talk to a stranger, and I broke that promise for him. I promised that I wouldn’t let my desperate urge for sex and love blind my ability to read social queues and dictate what was good and bad for me— and I fucking broke that promise. I saw him— I felt his hands on my hips— and everything I had learned from past experiences flew out the window. For a moment, for a blissful, wonderful moment, I forgot about Lauren because I had all of my focus on the Nordic God. A Nordic God that was taken. How fucking ridiculous.

Aaron sat down next to me. I scooted away, and he immediately noticed. A couple of days ago, I asked him what his job was at the FBI, and he told me that he studied the behavior of serial killers in order to find them. When he cracked a joke that his ability to “profile” serial killers was a curse that affected every aspect of his life, I asked him if he could profile me. Profiling was putting together all of the behaviors he spotted in someone in order to tell what kind of person they were, are, and could potentially be. Aaron laughed. He said that he had already profiled me the day we met. “Your eyes were on my friend the entire time,” he said. “Her name’s Emily, by the way.” So, that had confirmed that it wasn’t Lauren I saw. Though I was somewhat relieved, I was also disappointed, and Aaron noticed. He asked me why I was staring at her, and I simply dodged a real answer by telling him that I thought she was someone else. His profiling skills seemed to tell him I was lying. Despite the fact that he knew I wasn’t telling the truth, he didn’t pry. He never did. When I moved away from him on the bench, however, and he noticed, that was the first time I ever heard him get serious with me.

“What is it?” he asked me quietly and sincerely. I shook my head. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Why…” I hesitated for a beat. “Why would you keep flirting with me if—”

“My wife died years ago, Y/N. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

If I wasn’t embarrassed before, I was as red as a fucking tomato, and this time for all the wrong reasons. Originally, I had simply assumed that him having a son meant that he was still with someone. My first mistake. Then, I thought that it all meant that he didn’t like me, that he had been stringing me around for no reason, that maybe I was seeing between the lines. My second mistake. Now, I was embarrassed because I had made a complete fool of myself by tensing up at the thought of him having a kid— something I really didn’t mind, actually— and then I admitted that I thought he was flirting, all while practically pushing him away. I fucked this all up. Why was it that he made me trip over my tongue like this? I mean, he was always in my head since that first day we met and I felt his hands on my hips; and I found myself wanting to spend more time with him and impressing him. All of that had just been flushed down the drain. Any chance I had to keep being this happy and distracted had just disappeared because I had been stupid.

“I’m sorry.” I did a lot of compulsive apologizing around him. Because he made me trip over my own tongue, I always happened to say the wrong thing, so I constantly needed to apologize, which I could tell he found adorable, but I found it to be humiliating. “I didn’t mean to force that out of you.”

“It’s okay. It’s been so long, and I’ve had to tell so many people; I’m neutral about it these days.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“If you say sorry one more time, I’m going to start feeling bad.”

“Sorr—” I caught myself before laughing. “That’s going to be a bad habit to break.”

“All habits are hard to break.” He shrugged, leaned back, and looked forward to make the feeling between us casual again. “New rule, no more apologizing.”

Part of getting to know each other was making rules in order to make ourselves comfortable. I didn’t pry about his work, he didn’t ask me any more about his friend Emily. I didn’t stare below his belt (a personal rule I made for myself that I never disclosed to him), and he didn’t stare too long at my breasts when I would wear a low cut or tight shirt (a rule he made for himself that went unsaid). The rules would come up occasionally, but only when we were sitting on that park bench surrounded by roses. The parking lot, however, was fair game. Because that was the last time we would get to see each other until the next day, which was never guaranteed since he traveled so much— just like Lauren always did— we both got to break our staring rules until we would get into our separate cars. This new rule about apologizing didn’t seem like just a roses rule, though. If I had to guess, Aaron was going to keep an eye on me to make sure I wouldn’t  break this new rule.

I nodded. “Okay, fine. But, no more being late,” I said. He also nodded. “And, I need a 6AM warning every time you won’t be here.”

Aaron looked at me. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Phone,” I demanded while holding out my hand. Aaron urgently dug into his pocket, racing to grab his phone before I could change my mind about giving him my number. He was too chicken shit to ask for it, so I didn’t mind taking that first step for him. Afterall, it was the most I could do since I totally messed up by getting uptight about his son. Speaking of which, when I turned Aaron’s phone on, I saw a picture of him holding his son, both of them smiling ear to ear after what looked like a victory after one of his son’s soccer games. I felt myself melting. “He’s adorable.” He had blonde hair, which wasn’t like his dad at all, but the brown eyes, lips, and nose were all a mirror image of Aaron.

“His name’s Jack.”

“How old is he?”

“Nine.”

I smiled at him before looking back down to unlock his phone and put my information into the Contacts app. When I was done, I turned it off and handed it back to him. “There. Now you can text me at 6AM every time you know you’re not going to be here.”

“And what about… other than 6AM?” He was biting his lip again. I always knew that he was flirting with me when he would bite his lip like that. He was the professional profiler, yet he couldn’t have been more obvious. One would think that he knew how to hide his tells better than that, but he really seemed to suck at it. “Can I call you tonight, maybe?”

“For what?”

He hadn’t anticipated that I would nudge him back with a question. “I—” He didn’t know what to say. I giggled. “Is it too late to take my rule back so that I can say sorry for being too forward?”

“Yeah. It is. Sometimes it’s okay to be forward.” I stood from the bench, giving him the idea that it was time to go. He stood, too, taking my lead because he seemed like a lost puppy that needed to be told what to do. “I get off work at seven. You can call me for whatever it is you have on your mind any time after that.” I jumped on my toes to warm myself up, also testing to see just how long he could keep his eyes on mine and not one any other part of me that was a little more… distracting. “I’ll race you to the parking lot.”

“What happens if you win?”

“Who said there needs to be prizes?”

“The new rule I just made,” he said like it was a tease.

I squinted at him. “You can’t just make rules up for your benefit, Aaron.”

“Well, if you win, Y/N, I’ll stop making up random rules.”

“And if you win?”

I saw his answer coming from a mile away, but I still felt myself smiling when he said, “I take you out for dinner after our call tonight.”

“Deal.”

Aaron wasn’t prepared at all yet, but that didn’t stop me from beginning my dash down the path. Though I was inevitably going to let him win, I still had to put up somewhat of a fight to make his win believable. Aaron seemed to notice immediately. Before I could make it very far, he was already speeding past me, intent on winning so  that he could take me to dinner. Dummy. I wasn’t trying very hard to win. He didn’t seem to notice, though,even as we reached the parking lot where he claimed his victory. He slowed to a stop. As I caught up, he turned around and smiled.

“You’re late,” he teased me.

I rolled my eyes. “Pick me up at eight.” I immediately started making my way towards my car, which gave Aaron the chance to break his rule so that he could stare at me for a little longer than he was supposed to. “And don’t be late!” I called back to him.

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

criminal minds family: @peggy1999​ @gorgeousdarkangel​  @alex--awesome--22​ @oceaneblu​ @brithedemonspawn​ @absolutemarveltrash​ @bshelley322​

[firaknight]

idk if ur still doing the writing requests but uhh maybe a kirfluff love confession?

I absolutely am!!!!!!! Here you go anon!!

Alternative title: These puffs gay and one of them has no idea what gay means while the other gets gay panic.

~~~{+}~~~

It was a noticeably chilly night in Dreamland. Despite it being the middle of summer, the chill of the night was stronger than ever. The sky was clear and empty, stars painted across the darkness. Soaring under the sky was the Warpstar, leaving sparkling trails of stardust in its wake. The Warpstar itself had taken on a slightly different form, resembling a large pillow rather than a star built for transportation.

Sitting atop the Warpstar were Kirby and Prince Fluff, nestled together beneath a thick blanket. Their bodies sunk into the center of the Warpstar, like sitting on a particularly squishy pillow. It was warm, the kind of warmth that was just comfortable enough—not too hot, not too cold, just perfect.

The night air was crisp, the sweet summer breeze gently blowing. Fluff noticeably shuddered at the breeze, colder than usual. Kirby huddled a bit closer, oblivious to the blush that slowly grew on Fluffs cheeks. The prince stared into the starry night sky, his mind wandering, his expression twisted in deep thought. Kirby noticed the sudden shift and turned, gently nudging him, and in a quiet voice asked...

“Whats wrong, poyo?”

“Hm? Ah, it’s nothing! Just... lost in thought.” Fluff hoped that simple answer would deter the pink puff. To his dismay, it only seemed to make Kirby more intrigued.

“It’s not nothing! You look upset.” Kirby scooted a little closer. He took note of how warm Fluffs cheeks were. Maybe he was sick? Maybe that’s why he wasn’t feeling good.

“Really, Kirby, I’m fine. I’m just thinking.” Kirby gently placed a paw on Fluffs cheek, feeling said cheek grow progressively warmer and turn a brighter shade of red.

“Thinking about what?” Fluff bit the inside of his cheek. He knew this conversation wouldn’t end well...

“Love.”

“Love? What kind of love, poyo?” That question caught him off guard.

“What do you mean “what kind of love?” Isn’t there only one?” Kirby shook his head, smiling.

“There’s lots of kinds, poyo! There’s platonic love, one-sided love, puppy dog love which I don’t really understand, romantic love, really really romantic love—Meta Knight and Dedede don’t like talking to me about that one for some reason—poyo, and familial love! I’m probably forgetting a bunch, but there’s a lot, poyo!!” Fluff thought over the responses, staring down at the Warpstar.

“Wait, hold on— really really romantic love? What’s that and why won’t your dads explain it to you?” Kirby stared blankly. Even he was a little confused on that one.

“Uh, I don’t really know, poyo! Dedede changes the subject before I can ask and Meta Knight tells me I’m not old enough yet. He says that in a couple years or so I’ll be old enough to understand what he’ll tell me, poyo.”

“Guess it’s really personal, huh?” Fluff mentally patted himself on the back for changing the subject. Maybe this time Kirby wouldn’t pry for more information.

“No, I don’t think it is. He says it’s got something to do with puffball puberty, which I haven’t hit, poyo.”

“Oh, ok.” The two sat in silence after that, but it wasn’t a pleasant silence. It was the kind of silence that made you want to talk, even if there was nothing to be said.

Maybe he’s done-

“Back to the original subject; what kind of love are you thinking about, poyo?”

Yod yammit.

“Romantic love. There, happy?” Fluff tried to stop himself from sounding too blunt. He didn’t want to talk about this, but Kirby wouldn’t let up, even if he said he wanted to change the subject.

“Romantic love for who? I promise I won’t tell anyone, poyo!” Fluff furrowed his brows. He was going to dodge these questions for as long as he could.

“A friend.”

“Oooo!!!! Which friend, poyo!! There’s so many!!” Fluff was mentally cornered. He couldn’t say “a close friend” because that would narrow it down to maybe 3 people, of which Kirby could easily deduce who he had feelings for. He also couldn’t just repeat “a friend” because Kirby, while naive, isn’t stupid, and would narrow it down to those few close friends almost immediately. He couldn’t stay silent, because Kirby would think he struck a nerve or something and would most likely never bring up the topic ever again, which, while helpful in this situation, wouldn’t be in the future. He bit the inside of his cheek again and decided to take a risk. A calculated risk in the form of a puzzle, but a risk nonetheless.

“A pink friend.” Kirby tilted his head in confusion.

“Pink? That’s weirdly specific, poyo.”

“Mhmm.”

“Pink, huh... hmmm...” There was an unbearably long amount of silence between the two. Fluff couldn’t tell if Kirby was lost in thought or spaced out, and he really didn’t want to ask. He decided to throw in the towel, realizing this was getting nowhere.

“Y’know what, nevermind. Forget I-“

“It’s me, isn’t it.” Fluff felt his cheeks get hot.

“H-how did you-“

“Well, it’s not like you were super vague about that hint!” Fluff mentally hit himself for that one.

“...”

“Well, I’ve got a confession for you, poyo.” Fluff ran over the options in his head, all of which were bad. Kirby was probably going to say he didn’t love him back like that, and would prefer to stay friends.

Just get over the fact that he doesn’t like you back. He’s Kirby, he probably hasn’t had a romantic thought in his-

“I love you back. In a romantic way.”

Fluff was speechless. Completely taken off guard and a little shaken by the response.

“Y-you’re joking, right?”

“No? Why would I be, poyo?”

“I...”

“To tell the truth, I’ve been too cowardly to mention it. I-I mean, you’re a prince, poyo! I’m just a kid with superpowers, I guess. I always felt like I was waaaaaayyy out of your league and that, if I mentioned that I liked you, you’d shrug it off like it was nothing, poyo.” He paused for a moment, thinking.

“You were always so friendly with me, even when I was just some random stranger who got thrown into your world by accident. I-if I’m being super honest, I’ve had a crush on you since we made it to Treat Land all the way back when we first met, poyo.” The realization that, maybe, just maybe, Kirby was trying to flirt with him all those years ago made Fluff put his face in his paws.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner...”

“It’s not your fault! I’m not super great at showing romantic love, poyo. I’ve only ever felt that kind of love once or twice before I met you, and I had no idea how to respond to it other than my usual acts of love!” Kirby gave him a smile, that adorable smile he gave everyone.

“S-so... uh... d-does that make us... b-boyfriends?” Fluff couldn’t figure out why saying those words made him unbelievably nervous.

“I think so!”

“W-what do b-boyfriends do...?” Kirby went silent, thinking on it.

“Well, Meta Knight and Dedede are gay, and they kiss each other on the lips a bunch.” Kirby could see Fluffs face go from blue to almost entirely red.

“U-u-uh... I-I don’t think I’m ready for that...” Kirby gave Fluff a small pat, smiling.

“We don’t have to then! What about an alternative?”

“L-like what...?”

“Nuzzling! I do it a lot with friends and it’s my way of saying “hello” and “I love you” in a platonic way, but we can make it romantic!” Fluff thought about it and decided that nuzzling was probably a good start.

“S-sure! B-but you’re going to have to demonstrate that. W-we don’t do that back in Patchland, I think.”

“Fine by me! Now sit still!” Kirby peppily scooted closer, pressed one of his cheeks to Fluff and nuzzled him. Fluff swore he could cook something on his face with how hot it’d gotten, yet at the same time, he loved this. Every second of it, while it made him more and more of a blushing mess, was wonderful to him. He decided to return the gesture, squishing his cheek against Kirbys and nuzzling back. Almost immediately he heard the low rumble of a purr. His face turned maxim tomato red upon hearing it. He’s never heard Kirby purr before, and good lord was it adorable.

“Y-you can purr???”

“Mhmm! All puffballs can, I think!”

“...I think it’s adorable...”

“Awww, Fluff!!!” Kirby nuzzled him a little harder, giggling.

“Well, my dear boyfriend, would you like to watch the stars with me?” Kirby giggled at Fluffs sudden flirtatious tone.

“I’d be happy to.” The two smiled, resting against each other, staring up at the night sky. Maybe it was just Fluff, but with Kirby around, the sky looked more beautiful that night than ever.

[your-local-vamp]

I disappeared off of the face of the earth for a while, but I’m back ya’ll!! I need to get used to the whole writing and then posting it thing haha. Anyway! I’ve had this idea for a really long time, but was very much procrastinating on writing it. Whoops. But here it is! It’s honestly mostly focused on the whole conflict within the vampire’s mind. I like to show different sides of them. My last one was straight up a stalker, but this one is a liiiiiiitle different, you’ll see :)! I need to shut up before I spoil the entire thing out of excitement lol. Oh and also! I finally took it upon myself to research how I can write better, make it easier to read and stuff. So if there are some errors or if anyone has advice for me, please do leave a comment! Also also, I have a habit to listen to badass vibe songs while writing/reading, so if you’re interested in some recommendations, hit me up! Okay that’s really it. Have fun reading!

Again, this story contains some explicit themes (blood, character death, overall just being angsty af) so make sure to check the tags before reading!

—————

Running From Death

I once again find myself drinking in the bar located a few blocks from my apartment. That intoxicated feeling I get after a few glasses is amazing to me. It’s pleasant to feel good for a change.

Being here also allows me to converse with the humans. Which is… Interesting to say the least. Their different personalities, lifestyles, stories. I happen to eavesdrop into conversations from time to time, which results in me hearing the most outrageous stories sometimes. May they be true or not, they interest me.

I try not to attract too much attention to myself, but I fail in doing so most of the time. Blame it on my charismatic vampire looks, I guess. Humans often strike conversations with me, but I’m not one to complain. I like talking to them when I get the opportunity.

The bell attached to the front door rings. A woman enters the bar. “Oh god, it’s her again,” someone in one of the booths behind me sighs. Hmm, must be a regular. I come here embarrassingly often, enough to call myself a regular as well, but I haven’t seen her before. She’s very handsome looking.

My hand covered with a leather glove tightens around the whiskey glass.

“Control yourself, please. You’ve practiced this many times before.”

It repeats in my head over and over again. Unfortunate things usually happen when I’m drunk. It saddens me, because I wish to not hurt anyone. I was a human once too. And I want to remember the memories from back then. Try to do ‘human’ things. But it’s hard, especially with-

“Hey, how are ya doing?” A voice interrupts my intrusive thoughts.

I look up and see the handsome woman sitting on a stool next to me. Her voice is lively and confident. But it’s probably just the liquor talking.

“Just thinking.”

“Abouuuuut?”

Oh god. She’s totally wasted. I now notice that she can barely even sit up straight without falling over. I can’t help but smile at her actions though, it’s almost endearing in a way.

“Just contemplating life, really.”

“I came here to do the exact same thing!” the woman says.

“How so?” I ask, now completely interested in her story.

“Ugh, where do I even start? My shitty boss fired me today. And you know what the most fucked up part about it all is? The fact that I’ve been working there for years! I did so much for his company, but he decides to just fire me, because ‘he’s gotta cut some people down’. So, I came here to drink my sorrows away. Well, I may have already visited two other bars, so I’m kinda far gone already haha.” The woman keeps on rambling, without actually making eye contact with whom she’s talking to. But I happen to listen to every single word.

“Why did he have to cut people off?” I question the woman.

“Pfshh, I don’t even know. Not enough money, I guess. He could’ve fired literally anyone else, but-“ she interrupts her own sentence, while her eyes make contact with the bartender, “-Hey! Can I have uhhhh. Whatever he has?” she finishes, while she absentmindedly points at my own drink.

She seems to have forgotten what she was talking about before, she’s just staring at the bartender until her drink is ready.

“And what’s your excuse for being here?” she asks, while taking a sip of her whiskey.

“Just taking a break from drinking blood and killing people.”

Well, that’s what I should’ve said if I really wanted to be honest. But being honest isn’t my reality. Lying has become my forte over the many years I have been a vampire. I don’t exist in the eyes of humans. And it should stay that way.

“Just taking a break from life.”

Yeah, that should do it.

“I come over here to share my entire life story, and all you’ve got for me is that? Damn.”

Or not.

“My life is really not that interesting,” I quickly add, trying not to blow my cover.

She takes an observing look at me. I have never felt so uncomfortable in my entire existence. She gives me the feeling like she can look right through my lies. “Hahaha, I’m just messin’ with ya. I don’t like to pry into people’s lives like that anyway,” the woman smiles.

Phew, I barely got away with that one. I return a signature smile to her. The one that makes everyone all the more invested in me, it seems.

*a few hours later*

The handsome stranger and I have been talking for hours. I lost track of time a while ago. Talking, or rather listening to her, reminds me of my human days. I used to help my elder neighbors with chores around the house, but ended up listening to them for hours and hours. I knew that when I had finished the chores, there would be a nice hot cup of tea and cookies waiting for me. The elder couple loved to share their stories with me. I know now that most of them were of pure fantasy, but at that time they were something I would so eagerly wait for to hear.

This woman gives me that feeling of nostalgia. The excitement of finally hearing the story I have longed for. It’s odd, since I have only met her a few hours ago. But somehow I feel like I’ve known her for a really long time.

“Nghn, my head hurts…” She snaps me out of my thoughts. “Woah there, don’t fall off that stool now,” I say, while carefully taking a step towards her. “C-Can you take me home?”

I look at her with disbelief.

Did she really just ask me to walk her home?

“U-Uh, I can call a cab for you? Or ask one of your friends to come pick you up maybe? I’m sure that-“

“Please.”

She looks at me with eager eyes. Her intention is really for me to take her home. If only she knew what I really am. I sigh. “Let me go to the toilet first, then I’ll walk you home.” I finally surrender to the human.

The entire way to the toilet I ask myself what I’m getting myself into. I shouldn’t be doing this, I know that all too well. But I can’t just keep hiding my true feelings all the time. I want to live amongst humans. I know that we can coexist. As long as I control myself, everything will be fine.

I sigh, take my gloves off and use the toilet. My head is suddenly throbbing like hell. I can feel that my body is trying to fight the urge to kill every single soul in this bar. Everything spins.

Shit.

“Hey, you ready or not? I feel like puking!” I hear the woman urgently knocking on the door. “Y-Yeah, I’ll be out in a sec!” I shout back.

I quickly finish and go back to the bar. “Let’s go,” we hurriedly exit the bar. She does so, because she needs to get home asap. And I do so, because of obvious reasons.

I can feel that I’m starting to lose control. It was a mistake drinking this much. I’m usually okay with drinking a few glasses, but this woman has a certain effect on me. And it’s not a positive one. Not while I’m drunk, at least.

The woman is currently walking behind me, laughing at her own jokes. All I want right now is to drop her off as fast as I can.

“Ah, shit!” I hear a loud thud.

I look back and see that she is now sitting on the cold concrete.

“What happened?” I ask, clearly concerned.

The woman shakes her head. “I’m so clumsy, I literally just stumbled over my own feet haha.”

God, we’re never going to get anywhere like this. “Oh nooo! My new pants! Ugh, this stuff always happens to me.”

I take a quick look at her leg and notice that the fabric is ripped open. She took a great fall apparently, otherwise that wouldn’t have happened.

“Damn, I’m bleeding too.”

That’s all she had to say to make my eyes turn red and making my fangs expose themselves. I quickly turn around, hoping that she didn’t notice my weird behavior already.

“Are you okay…?” she asks, proving my thoughts wrong. I disregard her question and return it with my own.

“Is it bad?”

I don’t know why I’m asking her that. No matter of how bad it is, the mere smell of her blood is driving me insane. All I can think about is that right at this moment.

“Uhm, no I think that I’m okay.” I can hear that she’s getting up and has started to walk towards me.

“Please, don’t come any closer.” I say this with a serious tone, hoping that she’d cease to move instantly.

“What’s wrong? It’s not even that bad.”

Fuck fuck fuck.

I can’t hold the urge back anymore. I never want to hurt humans, but I also can’t forget of who I have become. I’m a vampire. To stay alive, I need blood. Alcohol has terrible effects on me.

It’s like drinking water with salt in it. You’re drinking, but it worsens your thirst because of the salt. Alcohol only enhances my thirst for blood. I’m learning the consequences of that now.

The woman has come even closer to me. I turn around, only to see a reached out hand with blood on it. I try to fight the dark side of me with everything I have. That side of me gives in, eventually. I resist the urge and grab her wrist, only to warn her to stop.

However, this action suffers a great consequence. The woman looks at me. The white of her eyes turn dark red.

Wait… I look at my hand, having a firm hold on her wrist.

“My gloves!” is all I can utter at this moment.

I have forgotten my gloves in the toilet area. How can I be so stupid… I’m unable to touch any living being with my bare hands. If I do so, it dies. Everything I touch turns into dust. It’s a curse I have carried with me ever since I turned. It has barely posed as a problem the last few years. But I… I touched her without gloves on.

“W-Wait. No. I’m sorry, please!” I beg for my actions to reverse themselves. But what happened cannot be undone.

The woman’s eyebrows furrow and her eyes look back into mine, filled with betrayal. “H-How cou-ld y-ou,” she chokes on her own blood. She is in immense pain, I can tell. I let go of her hand, terrible guilt now washing over me.

She takes a look at her shaking hand, which gets covered with popping veins inch by inch. The sounds coming from her are agonizing. She stumbles backwards, now nearing her end. Tears roll down my cheek, as I carry her.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know my gloves were…” I’m unable to finish my sentence, as my non beating heart breaks seeing her mouth all covered in blood clots.

It’s ironic, really. I was barely able to resist the smell of her blood before, but now even though I’m covered with it, I don’t seem to mind.

Her body shivers uncontrollably, until it stops moving at all. I hold her limp body, watching my tears fall on her veiny cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I keep repeating it, somewhere having a wishful thought that I could go back before all of this happened.

But her body stays unmoving. I scream and I scream, all of my human feelings washing over me now. This shouldn’t have happened. My ignorance allowed this to take place. And I will never forgive myself for it.

I hear sounds of a crowd nearing by. In total panic, I let go of her body and hide in a nearby alleyway. I crouch and hold my hands over my own ears, trying to ignore the screams that are coming from the spot where I just killed a human. The tears are now streaming down, my thoughts racing. What have I done? I should’ve never went to that bar in the first place.

Fuck, I need to get out of here before they find me. I try to leave the guilt there and run from myself as fast as I can. I am a monster. And no matter how hard I cling on to the little humanity I’ve got left, I will always remain one.

[skullrock]

the partners, chapter nine - Steve x Reader

chapter nine - hand in glove 

series summary: you and Steve are police apprentices at Hawkins Police Station in the fall of 1986. you get along famously, but there’s something Steve is hiding, and there is an unknown evil lurking in Hawkins. [friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff]

chapter summary: You and Steve attempt to escape the base, which goes a bit easier - and a bit worse - than imagined. 

warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of blood, punching, etc

word count: 4.1k

a/n: here’s the Spotify playlist that goes with the series, and you can catch up here. we have FANART NOW folks and I have literally not stopped crying over it!! pls go give Andy some love <3 please lmk your thoughts on this chapter! we are almost done bois! love u! also - phrases in italics = memories! 

===

As if would turn out, sneaking around a secret Russian base with a concussion was not very easy.

You were taken out almost immediately just by the lights out in the Interrogation Hub. Steve kept watch as you bent over and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to find an angle that didn’t make your ribs ache. His hand stayed on your back the entire time, rubbing it in attempt to comfort you.

“I know it’s not fun,” he says.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you whisper, but Steve gently guides you to start walking. He knows if you don’t keep going, you’re not going to make it. And he’d like to take you on a date after all of this.

“We gotta find … walkie… first,” you remind, and Steve nods.

“I have the plan, just relax.”

“Sometimes I forget you’re not totally helpless.”

“You’re on thin ice, Y/N.”

The halls are as deserted as they were when you arrived, much to your relief. It was easy to keep walking, but not easy to know where you were going. It felt like you and Steve were walking in constant circles, and Steve’s anxiety rose each time they walked into another stark white hallway. The sound of voices down the hall forced you both to take refuge in a random room, Steve’s fists raised to fight in case anyone was inside. But it was bare – and full of everything you needed.

On the far wall was a control board, which was in front of a huge wall of screens. You could look and see all of the security cameras on them. This would be helpful if it weren’t for the fact that there were easily 75 screens, and each room looked exactly the same. In the middle of the room was a long table, and there sat your knife, walkie, and gun.

“This seems too easy,” Steve mumbles, fists lowering.

“Maybe the author is taking it easy on us,” you mutter, leaning heavily into him. Your head spins and hurts, your chest aches when you breathe. You don’t remember ever being so miserable, and you want nothing more than to break down and cry. And sleep. Thankfully, the adrenaline keeps your ass in gear, spurring you to keep going.

“God, you’re really concussed,” Steve says. He leads you slowly to a chair at the table and you slowly sit, reveling in the feeling of being grounded. Steve picks up the walkie and hesitantly turns it on.

“Uh, this is –“

He doesn’t even finish before a cacophony of voices scream from the box, making you groan loudly. Steve hisses and turns the volume down before growling, “One at a time! Over!”

“We thought you guys died,” you hear Mike say. “We thought you guys were dead! Over!”

“Steve, are you okay?” Robin asks. “Where’s Y/N?”

You reach up and pry the walkie from Steve’s hands. “This is Juliet. Have you called Owens?”

“Yeah, like, two hours ago,” you hear Lucas say. “Joyce is losing her shit.”

“Guys, please don’t forget to say over,” you hear Mike groan somewhere in the background.

“Is he on his way?” You ask. “We could really use the help.”

“Mom went to meet them at the station, we had to fill her in,” Will says.

“We’re here with her,” Dustin says. “He should be here any minute!”

Steve snatches the walkie from you. “We don’t have time to waste. We don’t know how to get out of here, and Y/N isn’t doing so hot.”

“It’s Juliet,” you say weakly. Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and looks at you like you’re an idiot – but there’s still some love in his eyes, too.

“Look, if Mike wasn’t so fucking sure that we should use code names, then I wouldn’t –“

“We don’t know how to get out,” Steve continues into the radio. “We’re in those tunnels that the Demodogs were travelling through.”

“The ones from last season?!” Max asks.

“Yes, those –“

A song of voices rings out again, this time sounding confused and shocked. You slip away as Steve attempts to explain everything quickly. You head over to the opposite side of the room, away from the screens, and find a series of desks. The desks have things like pencils and protractors on them, and you squint. One desk has what looks like a blueprint on it. Stepping forward, you grab the paper, revealing another set of plans underneath. They’re maps.

“Found something,” you say weakly, and Steve strides over. You hand him one of the more legible plans – architecture and design is not your forte, nor is it his. It’s staggering, the number of tunnels, the number of hubs, all running underneath Hawkins. There were miles and miles of them, and your stomach dropped. These tunnels had been fully functioning as a Russian base for more than a year, and the people put in office to protect you allowed it.

But another realization hits you after that, sending your stomach to your toes: If you’re not close to the exit, you won’t make it.

The rooms are written out in Russian, but you can get a sense of where you are, and you can tell where you had come from. The interrogation hub was clearly marked out, as it had about a dozen rooms within it. You had only gone maybe three hubs and hallways from it, and Steve points out a closet marked with a camera – that’s probably where you were. The exit is on the very far end of the tunnels, where the bar is on the other side of town. You were about ten hubs away from it.

“Closer than we thought,” Steve mumbles, and you scrunch your nose.

“Ten hubs is going to take like, forty five minutes to clear. And we are….” You gesture to yourself and then to him.

“Yeah, it’ll suck, but we can do it,” he says. “I’ve been through worse.”

“Congrats.”

“You get so mouthy when you’re concussed, you know that?”

“I get mouthy when I am about to die, Steve, thanks.”

Steve rolls his eyes and lifts the walkie-talkie back to his mouth. “We’ve got a map. We’re kind of close to the exit through the bar. We’re going to go for it and keep you updated. Over.”

You grab the walkie from him weakly. “Make sure they know we’re down here, yeah? Don’t want to get mowed down by bullets.”

“Got it. Standing by,” Dustin says.

“Going off walkie, talk soon, over.”

Steve takes the walkie back, which is good, because every word that comes out of your mouth makes your head spin and stomach lurch. You grab the gun and knife.

“Woah, hey,” he says, gently grabbing your wrist. “Don’t think you can shoot that in your state.”

“My gun,” you whisper. “Keeping it.”

Steve knows realistically he probably couldn’t shoot a gun right now. He’s keeping cool and positive on the outside, but he’s screaming bloody murder on the inside. He’s terrified to lose you. He knows you’re not doing well; he can see the miserable look behind your eyes, how you wince with each step, how labored your breathing is from the pain. He has no idea how you’re going to make it, other than through sheer willpower - which he knows you possess. Steve also feels like his heart is ricocheting through his body. Every look at you reminds him of things he should have said or did. Every look reminds him of how much he loves you, how much he fucked up.

Yeah, he probably couldn’t shoot a gun right now. Neither could you. But someone should have one. He makes a mental note of where it is on you, tucked into your waistband and sitting on your waist, in case he needs to use it on your behalf.

You carefully put the knife into your garter again and give a thumbs up. Steve’s hand grips the map and he clips the walkie to his uniform before sighing heavily and leading you into the hallway.

You’re met immediately by five people in uniforms similar to Steve’s. You both freeze, eyes wide. Steve’s about to grab your gun but the men simply nod and continue. Steve breathes out a sigh of relief and he takes your hands behind your back to create the impression that he’s taking you somewhere.

“They’re morons,” Steve says to you. “Idiots.”

You make it through two hubs carefully and without incident, but each step is starting to feel like a death march for you. You try to act strong so that Steve doesn’t freak, but you’re almost positive you’re about to collapse.

You enter the third hub. Steve lifts the walkie. “This is – us – we are heading into the third hub right n-“

He’s cut off by the lights turning red and an alarm blaring. You begin to drop to the floor at the noise but Steve grabs you around the waist, holding you steady. “Shit.”

“What’s going on?” Robin asks through the radio.

“Is Owen’s here?” Steve asks. “Or –“

“They know we’re missing,” you answer for him. “They’re looking for us.”

Steve throws his head back, and if he had a free hand, he would run it aggressively through his hair. He straightens you with his arm still around your waist and lifts the walkie back up. “We’ve got company!”

“He should be here any minute!” Robin stresses, and you can hear the panic in her voice. “Hide, or –“

“Yeah, got it, Rob,” he says harshly into the radio. “Stand by.”

Steve clips the radio to himself and uses both hands to steady you, still gripping the map. He turns you to look at him. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen him look so serious.

“I know you don’t think you have it in you, but you do, okay?” he says sternly. “We have to get out of here. I’ll help you, just –“

“I can’t,” you whisper, emotions rolling through you heavily. Your eyes well up with tears. “Please, just go –“

“No,” he says, gripping onto your shoulders. “I’m not leaving here without you, understand? You’re coming with me. You’re my partner, remember? We don’t leave each other behind.”

You groan and squeeze your eyes shut to stop the tears. “If we live through this, I’m going to kill you.”

He quirks a smile and quickly says, “I think you mean kiss,” before guiding you towards the next hallway.

The bad news – the hallway is stocked full of Russians in uniforms who are looking for you both.

The good news – there are so many of them that they cannot tell that you and Steve are, in fact, you and Steve.

The next bad news – you and Steve are split up almost immediately.

One guard shouts at Steve and grabs you from him – he must assume you’re another prisoner. The guard escorts you roughly down the hallway and you look back at Steve, eyes wide, matching his. He tries to shout after the man who has you, but the other shouting and chaos in the hallway drowns him out. You were expecting to get shot and killed, but this is somehow way worse.

Steve tries to push through the crowd, but he is physically unable; it’s a small hallway, after all. The panic rises in him and he tries to calm himself down, tries to watch where you’re being taken, but it’s so god damn dim and red and he can’t differentiate between anyone. Suddenly, he’s being pushed with the rest in the direction you both just came from, as you head the other way.

Luckily for you, you still have the gun. And although you are tripping over yourself, even though the feeling of the guard’s fingers digging into your bruised skin hurts, you can still remember how to use it. The guard takes you into an empty hallway and heads for one of the rooms off of it, letting go of you briefly to unlock it with his card. You move quickly, grabbing the gun from your waistband and lifting it.

This one puts up a fight, much unlike the young man you encountered before. A scuttle ensues as he grabs your forearms, attempting to throw you to the ground. You plant your feet though, and the sheer adrenaline helps you rip your arm from his grip and slam the pistol down onto his head. He drops and you lean against the wall, catching your breath.

If you didn’t feel like you were going to die before, you definitely feel it now.  

You give yourself a moment to catch your breath and push off of the wall. You can slightly remember the path you had taken to get here, and you attempt to retrace your steps. You know there’s no point in trying to find Steve. Not only can he hold himself – probably – but there’s no way in hell you could take care of yourself andfind him. You walk aimlessly, using the wall for support, stopping every so often to steady yourself. You’re thankful for the dim red lights, even if they flash. It’s better than the stark white you were working with.

You’re also thankful that the guards are somewhere else, because the empty hallways help you navigate quicker than you would otherwise.

Stepping gingerly, you continue your path, simply hoping something familiar comes up or, by some miracle, Steve finds you. Your heart hurts that you didn’t get to tell him one last time that you love him. Fear grips you – what if he dies without knowing? But he probably does know, and he’s probably very smug about it, and the thought of that dumb, smug smile helps you continue to put one foot in front of the other.

You enter a new hallway. Stopping momentarily to catch your breath and rest, you lean against the wall. Your eyes close and you want nothing more than to just sleep. Just a quick nap. Just a –

Someone grabs you roughly and throws you to the floor before you can finish your thought. Your head slams against the tile and you see stars, nothing but stars against a black background. Your ears ring and you weakly reach up to protect yourself, but you’re lifted and slammed against the wall.

“Steve?” you slur stupidly, remembering what happened the last time you both found each other.

The laugh that answers confirms that this is not Steve – it’s Edwards.

“Got split up?” he asks, and he throws you against the wall again, making you cry out.

“A bit,” you reply weakly. You try to knee him, but your leg only lifts about two inches before it falls back down.

Edwards grabs your jaw and jerks it so that you look at him – or, well, face him. You couldn’t open your eyes from the pain.

“You kids have been a pain in my ass since you first started,” he says, and a punch to the stomach sends you careening backwards. You black out for just a moment and he throws you to the floor.

You’re pretty okay with your fate at this point. It hurts, you don’t have Steve, Steve could be dead – this is okay, you think. You’re at peace with it. You just hope it comes quick. You curl into the fetal position, wincing at the pain in your stomach and ribs, and wait for the fatal blow or bullet to come.

“Only wish your boyfriend could be here to watch,” he says, and you hear the gun cock.

He’s not my boyfriend, you think. Not yet.

“Any last words?”

Typical, you think. You open your mouth to respond, but someone responds for you.

“Go to hell.”

Steve’s fist makes contact with Edwards’ nose, a sickening crunch ringing through the air. In shock, Edwards drops his gun, before swinging at Steve. Steve dodges it and throws another fist, which collides with Edwards’ jaw. Edwards manages to grab Steve and throw him down, but Steve pulls him down, too. They struggle with each other, fists being thrown every which way, and you hear the contact from your position on the floor. You are impressed with Steve’s good timing, impressed with his sick-ass comeback, impressed with his punches.

But here’s the thing – you know Steve’s track record. You also know now that Edwards is a sick fucking sociopath with a few tricks up his sleeve. You need to help Steve or you’re both dead.

You pick yourself up off the floor with all the energy you have left and grab the pistol from your waistband.

“It’s simple, really,” Edwards said. “First, make sure safety is off.”

You click the safety off.

“Make sure your feet are planted firmly. Good position is key.”

You plant your feet, one slightly in front of the other.

“Have good posture. Keep your shoulders back and chin up. Don’t take your eyes off of the target.”

You roll your shoulders back and straighten as best as you can, despite the protests from your ribcage. You force your eyes open wide, focusing on Edwards, who is still scuttling with Steve. He’s a moving target, and you’re not sure if you’re going to hit Steve or him, but you still line the gun up with Edwards’ figure.

“Be ready for the recoil – it’ll hurt if you’re not prepped,” Edwards said, making sure to straighten your arms as you focused on the target. “Keep your arms straight as an arrow.”

You straighten your arms, gun held out in front of you, trained on Edwards’ figure. Steve shoves Edwards off of him and he flies backwards, giving you a bit of separation. You train the gun and your eyes on him.

“Take a deep breath,” Edwards had instructed. “And then shoot.”

You take a deep breath. Edwards flies back towards Steve and you force yourself to keep your eyes open as you shoot.

The shot rings through the air.

At first, Steve thinks he’s the one who’s been hit, and he gasps, eyes squeezed shut. He waits for the pain, but it never comes. He slowly opens his eyes to find Edwards on the floor, shot in the shoulder. He’s alive – and fine – but stunned into silence. Steve’s brows furrow, confusion surging through him, until he hears the gun hit the tile, you dropping right after it.

Steve runs for you, holding you tightly against his chest. You just saved his life, twice in one night. The appreciation, the adoration, the horror, the love all travels through his veins at once, and tears run down his face without Steve even realizing.

You are simply spent – there’s no way you’re going to keep going after this.

“You okay?” you whisper.

Steve is, miraculously, fine. None of Edwards’ punches landed, and he got Edwards pretty good, too. He laughs softly in disbelief. “Never been better,” he says dryly. “You?”

Your eyes meet his and the look in them tells him what you need to say. You can’t keep going. You have to stay back. You have to wait for Owens.

But Steve knows that can’t happen. If you’re left alone, you’ll fall asleep, and honestly, who knows what will happen after that? It’s not an option to leave you behind – it never was.

Steve quickly scrambles to get the map out of his pocket. He unfolds it and points. “Look, we’re so close, Y/N, so close. The exit is right there – we can make it, come on!”

He attempts to lift you, but you cry out, so he slowly lowers you back down. Edwards groans from behind you and Steve turns to him, snapping, “I’ll shoot you if you so much as twitch.”

Steve looks back to you, his eyes searching yours. You think he looks so handsome down here in the red lighting. Your hand reaches to his face and you cup it again. “Go ahead.”

“No.” Steve licks his lips and gently grabs your shoulders. “You didn’t owe me a damn thing, and you came for me, and you stayed for me. I will never be able to return that favor, but I can try, right now. I’m not leaving you. You’re not dying down here.”

“Steve,” you mumble.

“Y/N, you have to get up,” he pleads, voice cracking. “I only got to love you for a few hours, and I – I want to spend the rest of my life doing that. But I can’t do that when you’re dead, okay? Or – I guess I could, it would just be really sad –“

“Steve,” you repeat.

“I’m going to take you on the best dates,” he continues. “I’m going to take you everywhere you have ever wanted to go. I will take you to see the National Parks, I’ll take you to that stupid candy themed amusement park in Oklahoma. You always wanted to go to it, right? I’ll take you to the Empire State Building, I’ll take you to Hollywood, I don’t care. I’ll cook for you, I’ll bake you danishes every single day for the rest of your life –“

“I don’t like danishes.”

He laughs sadly and cups your face. “I know, I know, but you haven’t tried one of mine yet, remember? I’ll cookfor you, I’ll take you on picnics, just – please, please, get up. Please let me love you for the time we have left.”

As one of your coworkers had said before, Only love makes you that crazy – and that damn stupid. This apparently applies to near-death experiences as well, because you are able to pull yourself to your feet. The thought of loving you was enough to get you through the last few hubs and hallways. Steve made sure to kick Edwards on the way out, threatening him once more. He won’t die down there – he’ll die after rotting in prison, and that’s a better fate.

Steve carries most of your weight, one of your arms draped over his broad shoulders as he uses his free hand to hold the map. Every time you’d slow down or falter, Steve would promise you something else to keep you moving.

“They’re making a sequel to Back to the Future, and I’ll take you to every viewing.”

“I’ll buy a polaroid and take nice pictures of you every single day.” He pauses. “Well, try to, I don’t know much about photography.”

“I’ll buy you the coffee and pastries every Monday.”

Each promise sends a bit more energy through you. It’s not so much that you want these things to happen to badly that it keeps you going. It’s that Steve gives such a shit that he’d do these things with you. It’s that Steve loves you, and you love him, and he was right – a couple hours of love isn’t enough for you. You want more. You want the cuddles, the kisses, the fights, the sleepovers. You want it all – and that’s what keeps you going.

Steve’s talking into the walkie at certain intervals, keeping the gang updated on what’s going on. You block these intermissions out, instead focusing on how your shoes look on the tile. Before you know it, you’re pushed into an elevator, the same one you rode when you came for Steve. Your vision starts to falter now, and you hear Steve talking, but you can’t make it out.

“Almost there, we’re almost there,” he comforts. “Just a few more minutes.”

The bar is, at this point, deserted and closed down. Steve’s thankful of the absence of bodies as he exits the elevator, you gripping onto him for your life.

“Dustin, Rob, we’re out,” he breathes into the radio. “We’re –“

You decide to clock out right here. You made it – that’s all you could do. You made it out from the underground, and now you’re officially done. You give in to the comfort of unconsciousness and fall to the ground, Steve unable to catch you from how fast you moved.

Dates be damned. You’re out.

Steve drops beside you, his fingers immediately going to your wrist to check your pulse. It’s weak and slow, and he starts to lightly pat your face. “Y/N, come on, don’t do this, wake up!”

When you don’t stir, Steve goes into freak-out mode. He grabs the radio and begs for Robin, Mike, anyone to call an ambulance. His fingers don’t leave your wrist and he doesn’t leave your side for even a second. In only a few minutes, Owens and his troops appear, pushing past Steve and you on the ground and heading straight to the elevators. Joyce is with Owens, and she runs to Steve, kneeling and immediately wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her mother reflexes kicking in. “Are – are you hurt?”

“She needs an ambulance,” Steve cries, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Please, she needs to get to a hospital, I don’t know how much time –“

Robin and Dustin appear now, stress and worry gripping their features. They both lunge for Steve, who is now caught in a group-hug, while he holds your hand tightly. Two men with a stretcher appear next, lifting you off the ground, and Steve hugs everyone back for a split moment before running off to join you in the ambulance. He knows he shouldn’t, he knows there are questions he needs to answer, but his first priority is you, his partner, and he’s not leaving your side.

The medics ask him questions about his own state, and he gives one-word answers and shrugs. He’s fine, physically, but he’s pretty sure he will take up Owen’s standing offer for therapy after all of this. Steve doesn’t leave your side even as you arrive at the hospital, running alongside your stretcher.

A woman appears beside him, holding a clipboard. “Relation to the patient?”

Steve’s brows furrow and he quickly answers, “Relation? I – she’s my partner.”

You wake up momentarily just to hear that, and you let out an “aww” before slipping back under. Steve is stopped in front of two double doors, left with the promise that he could see you once they check your vitals and make sure you’re stabilized. He slides down the wall and sits on the cool linoleum floor, still in his authentic Russian uniform. The silence in the hall is deafening and startling for him.

He wishes he could hear your voice.

===

taglist: @harrington-ofhawkins @wolfish-willow @gothackedalready @m-blasterrr @sourapplebaby @harringtown @sassisaluxury @comedy-witch @peanutem @mochminnie @willowrose99 @whimsicalwoodlands @anerroroccurrrrred​ @marvels-gurl @willowrose99 @andyl394​ @ssanjuniperoo @davnwillcome @darth-el​

[deltastorm101]

So, I tried to calculate Control...

... and its Epic Games deal, with the help of my certified smooth brain™ and probably incorrect sources. I started this last night hella tired and with a headache, I have finished it up today hella tired and with a headache, and this is what I produced: bullshit! :D But hey, at least double checked bullshit that’s open for discussion and contribution and expansion. Also, I probably won’t list the sources because a) I’m lazy and b) I didn’t have to dig thaaat deep down to find all this so if you really wanna know you could probably hit google with it as well. Anyhow here we go lol So, the initial thought which got all of this rolling was the 2020-wrap-up-post Remedy linked on their twitter, and Epic’s linked publishing announcement in it: studios Remedy, Playdead and GenDesign will release their next next-gen games with Epic. Now, we all know Remedy are working on some sort of Alan Wake-ish thing as we speak (right? right?? god I hope so), which meanssss our boy will most likely be an Epic exclusive. Which makes me kinda sad because, well. I’m deep in Steam’s ass. Hell, I waited for Control for a full year before I played it because they can pry the Steam version from my cold dead hands. So I asked myself... was it worth it for them? How much money did they throw at Remedy (and 505 Games) to have them play along? Would they have reached more people from the get-go if they had released it on Steam right away? Did the individual programmer, designer, writer, artist, person behind it profit from this at all? (Also, like, about the rights and copyright thing,,,,, you’d think they could have learned from Alan Wake and its IP belonging to Microsoft and so not really being able to do anything more with it because they don’t ‘own’ it and shit) buuut anyway that’s not the point of this post, now it’s time to do some MATH BABEY

Ok, let’s start with some things we know. Facts. Figures. Data. Turns out my initial question, how much money was involved, could be answered by doing one (1) google search: according to Wikipedia, Epic gave Remedy and 505 Games €9.49mio. The total budget for the game was €26.9mio over the course of 3 years of development. We know that as of December 2020, over 2mio copies of the game were sold, with November 2020 being the best-selling month ever since its initial release in August 2019. This is where question 1) comes into play: how many of those 2 million copies were sold in 2019 and how many in 2020? Stay tuned, I think I found out.

We know that Remedy gets to keep 45% of the revenue, which, I assumed, means that 505 keeps the remaining 55% (probably a lot more going on there but shhh). We know that Control’s sales cooked up €17.84mio in 2019 (so months September – December), €17.7mio of those in the first month alone (O.O). Side note: because it came out at the very end of August, I’ll ignore that month and declare September the first sales month.

We know that 60% of sales in 2019 were digital ones (aka Epic Store, mostly), 40% physical ones (consoles PS4 and XB1), while in 2020, only 10% of sales were physical and a whopping 90% digital; which is people on Epic who wanted to get their hands on the first DLC and – you guessed it – the Steam release of the Ultimate Edition in August 2020.

Which begs question 2): what’s bigger, 60% of 2019 sales because ‘ooh shiny new game’, or 90% of 2020 sales because ‘yay steam release’? The answer may look obvious, but you have to take into account the dropping price, which I also researched for your pleasure and enjoyment.

For this I used a German website called idealo.de, which focuses on looking for the best deals for basically anything you can buy on the internet, and it also gives you diagrams that describe at which point in time the product was at which exact price. This is what it gave me: - release price: €60 - December 2019: €41 (PS4)/€44 (XB1) - mid-2020: €30 - Ultimate Edition release: €30 - December 2020: €14 (PS4)/€18 (XB1)/€30 (Ultimate Editions) At this point I was like “lol hold on i need chocolate for this cuz i’ll be here for some time *sweating*”

To continue this mess™, I see more questions: 3) How many employees does Remedy have, which positions do they work in and what are their salaries? 4) How many employees does 505 have, which positions and salaries do they have? 5) What’s the total revenue that Control has generated so far?

And also some more stuff like, are my numbers accurate, am I even grasping these concepts correctly, are there even more people involved or am I just trying to explain complete crap (yes) but let’s just ignore all of that shall we. At that point I went “oh shit what have i gotten myself into, this screen does not get my point across, i need pen and paper” and you know shit is gonna go DOWN when I do math on paper.

My paper math birthed the following calculation:

Following this up, we can calculate the end-of-2019 sales, if we set the price for September and October to €60, for November and December to approx. €45:

Now, you might notice that one of those numbers is big and the other is HUGE. Why might that be? Well...

- Covid19: everyone stayed at home and needed video games to play - More sale months of the year, naturally - dropping price: why get it for €60 when you can get it for 20 - Ultimate Edition: why buy it in June when you get more content in August aaaand... - it comes out on Steam.

With this in mind, let’s see what questions we can answer: 1) 661,110 copies in 2019; 1,338,889 copies in 2020 2) 60% digital sales in 2019 means 396,666 Epic copies; 90% digital sales in 2020 means 1,205,000 copies – most of it from Steam? Some of it? A good chunk? The bigger chunk? There’s no way of really knowing for sure but... you could read this into it. I definitely am. 3) Google told me Remedy had a little over 250 employees at the end of 2019... 4) ... and 505 has less than 100. I found no good sources for this, I think linkedin said 37, someone else said 50. I’ll just use the 50 figure, idk. No idea man. and for 5) I’ll contradict my point that the Steam release is what knocked the sales out of the park and assume that the number of sold copies stayed the same across all 12 months of 2020, which gives us this:

Ok and now we’re getting into the most dangerous of danger zones because I have no idea how companies or capitalism work, so for educated people™, the remaining calculations might read like a toddler wrote them; I apologize profusely and hereby present last night’s brain vomit:

As stated earlier, development took 3 years, but everyone wanted to get paid in 2020 as well so let’s use 4 years to find out the salaries, which is 48 months. Let’s assume the utopian idea that every employee on the line here gets the exact same amount of money (LOL ikr but shhhh, let’s live out our dirtiest equality fantasies for a second ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)). Which would mean...

And now without the Epic Deal™:

Quod erat demonstrandum. Remedy has been selling their souls to Epic for €350 a month since 2017. (I don’t mean this as maliciously as I’m making it sound, don’t worry xD)

OKAY SO, O B V I O U S L Y, I have not the slightest idea what on earth I’m talking about so read this like you’d read a good fanfiction. We don’t know the different salaries across the different positions (and genders HAH), we don’t know if other parties were involved, I’ve completely ignored the sum that Epic themselves get, I have ignored taxes, I don’t know if my numbers are accurate (they’re definitely not I mean 505 must have more employees than 50), if I made mistakes (yes), and also somewhere along the way I forgot to use the €26.9mio budget figure because, uuh, I have no idea where to use it, what it means, where did it come from, where did it go, cotton eye joe - but oh well, I’m not starting over, take it or leave it.

So... I can now officially say I have written hot steamy economics fic xD Man I put waaay too much time into this but damn was it fun. Good three-hour-deep-dive (two of them spent munching on chocolate half-asleep listening to psytrance to keep my brain twitchy). Real-life-theorizing. Fuck capitalism. Don’t do drugs. Pet a cat. Wear your mask. Call your grandparents.

If there’s typos in this I’m sorry but also I’m not, I can’t be bothered to proofread again lol. Goodnight imma catch up on the sleep I lost. Gotta love full moons

[savedbystyle]

the man (t.s.)

pairing: tony stark x reader

summary: You’re furious of the double standards between you and Tony Stark

warnings: some curse words, nothing much its just frustration no angst, secret dating

a/n: hi again! i really hope this does well because lately the interaction with my posts have been going down since ‘i forgot that you existed’ but this is my first tony fic! i really hope you guys like it and PLEASE comment if u like it and want to be tagged:) i also dont really touch on her actual job but just mention that shes a ceo so please keep in mind this is more about double standards not her job! 

(gif credit to creator!)

i would be complex i would be cool they'd say I played the field before i found someone to commit to

“Y/n!” “Y/n, look here!” “Is it true you broke up with Justin Hammer?” You blocked your face as bursts of light showered your figure. You tried avoiding the paparazzi as you made your way to your car. “Is it true you dumped Hammer for Tony Stark?” “Why are you always moving on so fast from your ex boyfriends?” 

You successfully made your way into the car and your driver quickly started driving to your penthouse in New York. You were rubbing your head when you decided to call your childhood best friend James Rhodes. “Rhode pick up” you muttered to yourself. 

“Hey y/n” “Rhodey I just came out of Per Se and the paps bombarded me, they know about Hammer” “Y/n, darling, it’s fine it was bound to get out at some point. I think you should go home and get some rest Marla (your publicist) will deal with it” “Yeah you’re right” “When am I not?” You laughed at his sassy remark “Bye James, love you” “Night y/n/n, love you” You ended the call and rubbed your temple, annoyed at the circumstances. 

and that would be okay for me to do every conquest I had made would make me more of a boss to you

You scrolled through instagram whilst sitting on your couch, waiting for Marla to get to your house. You stumbled on a video of Tony Stark. You watched it and were confused “Im a genius, playboy, billionaire, and philanthropist. I can get anyone I want and get whomever I want” 

You were angry, not at Tony but the fact that the paparazzi demeaned you for moving on too fast when in reality you only ever had two public boyfriends with a year gap in between them. But when Tony Stark does it, it’s powerful and seen as a sign of winning? 

You were waken from your thoughts by the knock on your door signaling that Marla was here. You opened the door to your friend who looked exhausted. “I’ve been up all night containing this mess the paps started. Everyone knows that you and Hammer broke up, and he even had something to say. Y/n, this is bad” 

You took her phone and watched the video on the screen of your ex boyfriend “Me and y/n broke up earlier this month, it disgusts me that she moved on so fast, I mean come on! That’s not her character. That’s mine and Tony’s! Y/n, stay in your lane darling” 

You were shocked at the false allegation and the fact that your ex attacked you for ‘moving on too fast’. “I need to speak up or do something about this Marla! What is this double standards for us, because i’m a women i’m not able to get as many deals as Stark and everything I do is scrutinized! I need you to schedule a press conference” “Alright y/n but if things go bad then,” “I know Y/l/n Tech will crash and burn but thats a risk i’ll take Marla. This is ridiculous” 

i'd be a fearless leader i'd be an alpha type when everyone believes ya what's that like?

“James, if I was a man i’d be a fearless leader and the alpha type. I have always been attacked and multiple times been taken down because i don’t know what it feels like when everyone believes you, whats that like James? Really? I don’t know simply for the fact that i’m a women” “You’re holding the press conference right? You tell them this exactly Y/n, don’t hold back. It hurts me too that you don’t get enough credit for being the CEO of one of the most influential tech company in the world” 

You sighed taking a bite of your hagen daz ice cream anticipating the conference tomorrow where you decided you were finally going to give the public a piece of your mind “I better sleep Rhodes, i’ll catch up with you later” “Bye y/n/n” You hung up the phone, with a pit in your stomach. 

i'm so sick of running as fast as I can wondering if I'd get there quicker if I was a man and I'm so sick of them coming at me again 'cause if I was a man then I'd be the man i'd be the man i'd be the man

You saw the mass amount of press waiting for you inside the room and adjusted your suit before walking on the stage. “Wait y/n” Marla stopped you and showed you a video of Tony Stark commenting on you, “What do you think about Y/n’s recent allegations?” “Well I think none of you pricks should be inserting yourself into her business. So what if she’s dating someone? Why can’t she? Me and Hammer can but not her? Go do something better with your lives, please” You watched as the video ended, appreciating your competitor commenting on you. You felt a little better knowing you had the Tony Stark on your side. 

“I’m here today to address the several rumors going around. First and for most, I am in fact not in a relationship with anyone but that shouldn’t matter in the first place. Please explain to me why I can’t be in a relationship or go on dates with someone after i’ve been broken up with? Second, I’m so sick of running as fast as I can simply to keep up with men because I get less opportunities and jobs because i’m a woman, and I truly wonder if i’d get there quicker if I was a man. We all know that if I was a man, then i’d be the man.

they'd say I hustled put in the work they wouldn't shake their heads and question how much of this I deserve

I run one of the most influential and highest grossing tech companies in the world and I that is what I want to be focussed on! Not the double standard and constant prying into my private life which will forever be private unless both parties come together and agree to talk about it. I hustled and put in the work, and I don’t need any more men shaking their heads and questioning how much of this power I deserve because I know I deserve it. So please, treat us as equals to men and have the same respect that you give men to women” 

You finished with a big sigh, and looked up and asked the press who were in shock “There will be no questions, I said what I needed to say” You walked off the stage feeling the power surging around you as you hugged Marla “That was brilliant Y/n, i’m so proud of you!” “Thanks Marl, I actually need to go somewhere before I go back home so you can go” Marla smiled and nodded before heading out as you walked towards your car, “Go to Stark Towers. There’s someone I need to meet” 

i'm so sick of running as fast as I can wondering if I'd get there quicker if I was a man and I'm so sick of them coming at me again 'cause if I was a man then I'd be the man i'd be the man i'd be the man

You got off the elevator and walked in the direction of Tony’s r&d lab. “Hi Tony” You said smiling at the man in front of you before setting down your bag and keys, going to sit next to the man. “Hi y/n/n, I was watching it live. You were amazing out there” You got out of the embrace and looked lovingly into your lovers eyes “Thank you for what you said Tones, it gave me what I needed. I love you so much” Tony smiled at you pulling you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you, “Always darling, cause if you were a man then you’d be the man” 

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

I hope you guys enjoyed this! I wrote this in an hour with the prompt in my mind for a couple days. I really hope it resonated with some of you, because all of you are bad b!tches!!! For all my females out there, this one is for us! We are just as powerful as men and right now we don’t need anyone telling us were not. 

[elsaclack]

Em!! I just read you can hear it in the silence and oh my God it's probably one of my favourite fics of all time!! Which it's not surprising considering that I truly love you writing but it's so good!! I don't speak English so this may sound weird but the way they test each other in each repeat like little by little getting closer... Part of me was like give me a thousand repeats of that lol /1

and the actual heartbreak I experienced when Amy balks after their date I truly felt it so hard and then they falling in love and how Jake is always waiting for her... I love that in every universe (and fic) he has always carried a torch for her but never pushes her. And him being so surprised and nervous when she actually asks him out. I don't know I'll send you this and I'll keep remembering things I loved about it /2

I don't know I'll send you this and I'll keep remembering things I loved about it. You covered so well already but if you ever revisit that fic again it would be great to read Jake's POV since the night everything started, personally I'm a sucker for the pining and Jake's mind and I obviously believe you get his voice right. I'm way past the word limit and probably past normal asks etiquette or something lol so again I'll just say I truly loved the fic. Will be rereading later 💛. /3

FHALDSFKAHSDFLKJ okay i am SEVERAL days late responding to this but these made me SO HAPPY i can’t begin to tell u,,,,HFALDKSFASDFL THANK U!!!!

also!!!! u KNOW i gotta shout out @capnperaltiago for coming up with the original idea that sparked that fic!!!!!!! mel’s basically a goddess walking among us can u believe

so i have thought about going back and doing jake’s pov sort of like what i did with on my heart like a tattoo, but i’ve realized that in you can hear it in the silence, jake’s pov is mostly him very patiently waiting for amy to get out of her head and figure things out lmao. so it’s like him buying coffee every morning and mostly goofing around on his computer while being acutely aware every time amy tries to furtively watch him across their desks

BUT

i did have his pov of that date scene kind of planned out in my head and i may or may not have written it below the cut bc ur such an angel,,,,,,,,,,,

It’s the fact that she’s pressed up on the balls of her feet, her arm slung so firmly round the back of his neck he’s almost positive he’ll have a crick in his neck tomorrow (if he ever makes it to tomorrow), and the muffled noises buzzing against his lips that all lend themselves to his staunch belief that he is, in fact, dead and gone to heaven.  There’s no other explanation, he thinks, for the searing heat of her throat beneath the razor’s edge of his teeth or the electricity crackling from the tips of her fingers as she rakes them through his hair; no other explanation for the way her spine arches eagerly as his palms slowly, experimentally drag their way up the natural curve of her waist.  He has died and gone to heaven, officially, because he’s clumsily kicking his front door closed so that he can make out with Amy Santiago away from the prying eyes of his nosy neighbors.

Jake’s halfway through the mental image of dotty Mrs. Carmichael’s scandalized expression if she were to walk past them when Amy’s body suddenly stiffens - it’s the only warning he has before she hisses “shit” in his ear and recoils her head so quickly it bounces off the wall behind her.

(When he managed to back her into said wall is a mystery all its own.)

“Oh, god, Amy -” the alcohol still flowing pleasantly through his system makes him feel slow, sluggish; he reaches up to touch the place her head hit the wall, steadying himself with a grip on her bicep. “What’s wrong?  What happened?”

She’s looking up at him with an unfamiliar expression, something that makes the pit of his stomach stir and churn in a wholly unpleasant way, kiss-swollen lips parted and chest heaving in a way that makes him think she might be struggling to breathe properly.  “I’m - I can’t -” she gasps.

Like a bucket of ice water over his head, dread bursts through his system all at once.  It hadn’t occurred to him, in the haze of kamikaze and longing in the back of that cab, that she wouldn’t want him.  It hadn’t occurred to him to ask.

He tears himself away from her at once, stumbling backwards until his body collides with the wall opposite her.  "Oh, my god, Amy,” he chokes, doing his best to wipe the feeling of her body beneath his hands by rooting his fists in his hair and tugging none too gently. “I’m - I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I just - you’re, you’re so pretty and - I’m a little d-drunk, I didn’t mean to - god -”

She’s shaking her head violently before he’s finished speaking, eyes shining with unshed tears, and he’s never wanted to be swallowed whole by the ground more than in this moment. “No, no, no, that’s not what I - you didn’t do anything wrong, Jake, you didn’t do anything wrong at all!”

The words sink in slowly; tentatively, he lets his hands fall back to his sides.  “Okay,” he says slowly, “so...so what just happened? ‘Cause I thought - I mean, it seemed like it - things were going...like, really well -”

She presses her hands over her cheeks, now flaming red, and the tears seem to be defying gravity where they’re clinging to her lower lashes.  “It was,” she mumbles - her voice high and warbling, the way he’s only heard once before, seconds before a break down, and he cannot possibly fathom why because he’s her soulmate and they should be celebrating - “I’m sorry, I’m - I need to go - “

Those words - we’re soulmates! - stick in his throat as she tears out of his apartment, escaping in nothing more than a strangled half-shout as she disappears around the corner.  He’s halfway through the motions of chasing her to the elevator when he stops himself.

You’ve gotta let her come to you, Charles’ voice echoes in his head.  She has to work this out on her own.

Well, I royally screwed that up, he thinks back miserably.

[witharsenicsauce]

Chosen Stories From the War #18: If U Seek Amy

It seemed to Kon-Mai like she had spent her life here, in the ship’s infirmary.

In a way, she had been born—reborn—here, awoken to darkness, with new possibilities surrounding her. Her brothers, too. They had all been born here.

And now Colonel Zhang was born anew here. Or at least, he would be.

Kon-Mai stood over him, peering over his body curiously. His skin had returned to a more normal tone, his face slightly flush from the warmth of the room. His knuckles and joints did seem to be a bit chafed, but that was superficial and would likely pass. Tygan, though incredibly miffed at her brother for his...relative carelessness, had managed to work with what he was given, and Zhang was likely to come out of this with all his insides where they were supposed to be. That was thankful. He’d need them.

She wondered how old he was. From what she knew, Zhang had appeared to ADVENT already an old man, but there was no way a frail old timer could survive what he had. Unless…

Something must have been very special about him. It would explain why ADVENT kept him so secret, even from their own Chosen.

Kon-Mai pondered the thought. Come to think of it, there was so much she did not know. Some things she had never known. The Elders never told her, and she never questioned. Yet some thoughts seemed to echo in her mind, like imprints of old memories, but without her chip, that was all they were. Imprints. A few lines of code here, a mountain range there, the walls of a black building, a clone...

Zhang’s body jolted beside her, and she felt him scoot away, or at least try to while hooked up. She looked up to meet his golden eyes, awake and glaring at her in terror.

Kon-Mai bowed her head and knelt beside him, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible, but he still seemed to startle at her presence. She knew he would, but it still hurt to see him panic at the sight of her.

“Colonel Shaojie Zhang.” She said in that raspy, inhuman voice of hers. “I am Sergent Kon-Mai Mordenna. I am…” She hesitated. What was she to XCOM? Was she still a Chosen? Was she a soldier? She finally settled on “I am an agent of XCOM. The Commander instructed me to-”

“You.” He choked out through his oxygen mask.

She startled. “You recognize me?”

“Where am I?” He demanded, beginning to sit up, hissing as the stitches on his abdomen pulled with the movement.

“You’re in XCOM’s flying base, the Aven-” Kon-Mai broke off as Zhang began to tug at the wires, and she grabbed his arms to stop him. “No, Colonel Zhang, you mustn’t do that! You will injure yourself further!”

“Are you truly of XCOM?” He hissed. “Let me go, I need to see the Commander. It is urgent.”

“I am, I assure you! You can tell me, and I shall report to the Commander.” Kon-Mai said.

“No.” He insisted. “Her ears only. I need to see her.”

“She cannot be seen at the moment. And YOU cannot leave-” Kon-Mai did not get a chance to finish.

Zhang threw out his hands in a shove, and a wave of psionic force pushed Kon-Mai away. She flew backward, slamming against the railing of another bed and flipping over, the metal frame landing on top of her. She tried to roll over, and heard her own voice scream out with the pain of doing so. 

Zhang was getting up from his bed, slowly, and grabbed at his IV drip, perhaps intending to pull it out before he decided, smartly, to simply bring it with him. Kon-Mai kicked the bed frame off of her and scurried to her feet, rushing to block the exit. Zhang tried to hit her again, but she was ready and ducked under his blast. It still knocked into her shoulder though, and she stumbled, which gave him the opportunity to grab a nearby tray and attempt to hit her with it. 

Kon-Mai raised her arm, blocking his blow from hitting her in the head, but he swiped his foot across her leg. She tried to roll with the motion, but her back cried out in pain and she slipped back to the ground, hitting with a thud just as footsteps could be heard from outside in the hall, running towards them at breakneck speed.

“What the hell is going on?!” Bradford cried, and Kon-Mai felt a much stronger pulse than anything Zhang had put forward. Someone reached down and scooped her into their arms, and she looked up at her big brother as he stared down in horror at her condition.

“Dhar-Mon, I am fine.” She assured him, but her voice was weaker than she expected. “The Colonel simply...caught me off guard.”

“How DARE you strike my sister!” Dhar-Mon turned and bellowed at Zhang, who was currently focused on Bradford. In fact, he didn’t even look up until Dhar-Mon growled like an angry dog, and even then, Zhang did not seem intimidated.

“I don’t have time for this.” Zhang snapped. “Bradford, I need to speak with you and Senuna.”

“Hold the fucking phone.” Bradford snapped. “First of all, hello Zhang, nice to see you too. Second of all, you just ASSAULTED one of my soldiers, and finally, get your ass back in bed! That’s an order!”

While Kon-Mai simply chuckled at this, Zhang looked absolutely flabbergasted by Bradford’s display of authority, to the point that he seemed completely frozen and speechless.

“Back in bed.” Bradford said again. “Then we’ll talk. And the Commander is busy.”

“I need her to hear this.” Zhang growled. “Believe me, Bradford. It’s of great importance.”

“Well then, I’ll just go grab her out of the fucking shower. I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.” Bradford growled. “No. It can wait. Ass. Bed. Now.”

Too bewildered to argue, Zhang complied, getting back into bed in a half-sitting position.

“Brother. I am alright.” Kon-Mai assured Dhar-Mon, who was still holding her. “You may release me…”

“I could hear you scream from my quarters, Sister.” He replied. “And it was so painful I could feel your injury in my own bones. I will not let you down until I know you are well.”

“Oh? And when will you know that for certain?” She chuckled and leaned against his chest.

“Central.” Dhar-Mon stood at attention. “Permission to take my sister to her room.

“Granted.” Bradford chuckled. “There’s ice packs in the bar, if you need any.”

As they left the room, Kon-Mai glanced over Dhar-Mon’s shoulder. Zhang was staring at them intently, looking like he wanted to say something. But  alas, he remained silent.

.

.

The garage door peeled open slowly, and the cool night air hit Gur-Rai full force. He took a deep breath, pulling his hood closer around him. “You smell that, Lily? That smells like adventure!”

“Right?” Shen crossed her arms. “I’ve always been a night owl. That’s the one thing I do appreciate about the city centers: they got rid of so much light pollution.” She pointed up. “Look at all those stars!”

He chuckled. “If you think that’s impressive, wait till you see the planets that orbit them.”

Shen’s face lit up. “Seriously?”

“Oh yes.” He smirked, wheeling the bike out onto the open grass. “You believe in aliens, don’t you?”

“Yeah yeah, smart ass.” She chuckled and took the other handlebar, helping him push it to a semi-recognizable road. “These old roads are so...haunting, under the starlight.”

“Did you ever see Uruguay before it looked like this?” Gur-Rai asked. “When it was actually inhabited?”

“Nope. I saw Mexico once though!” Shen chirped.

“Your father’s work, I assume?”

“Kinda, but not really. It was for the Commander’s wedding-” She broke off, her face going pale.

“The Commander’s what now?” Gur-Rai’s bald brows shot up.

Shen kept her mouth shut, only smiling at him before turning her gaze back to the bike.

“You said her wedding?” He leaned forward. “She had a wedding, Lily?”

“Yep.” Shen pressed her lips into a thin line.

“No, Lily, don’t leave me hanging like that!” Gur-Rai leaned over the bike. “The Commander is married?!”

“Uh...it’s complicated.” Shen coughed.

“Well, I’ll say! Who did she marry?”

Shen scoffed “I don’t remember his name, Gur-Rai. I was six!”

“Well, you have to remember something! One doesn’t just forget the COMMANDER of XCOM getting MARRIED!”

“Look, I remember taking a lot of pictures and not being able to breathe in the dress my mom made me wear!” She cried. “I sure as hell don’t remember her husband’s name.”

“But it was a man?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Hm.” Gur-Rai pursed his lips. “I always assume she played the other team...well, she really is full of surprises then.”

“She never brings him up.” Shen said. “And, seeing as he’s not here?” Shen raised an eyebrow and waited for him to make the connection.

“Isn't that a love story for the ages!” Gur-Rai sighed wistfully. “Doomed lovers separated by war, torn apart by duty to their cause and an evil like the worlds has never known! Will fate ever smile down on them? Will they ever be-”

“Hey, cut it out.” Shen snapped. “If you’re trying to squeeze more info out of me, I already said I don’t remember. And have you seen the Commander when she gets upset? I wouldn’t ask her about it, Gur-Rai, so just drop it.”

“Oh but Lily, the drama!”

“No, seriously.” She said, her face pleading. “I don’t want to hurt her like that. She’s been through so much already.”

Gur-Rai’s smile dropped. “I won’t, Lily. If it’s that serious…”

“Yeah...good.” She sighed. “I’m...sorry. I kinda snapped at you there.”

“No, no, I should apologize.” He patted her back. “I’m sorry, Lily. I shouldn't be prying into things like that.”

“Oh shut up, you drama queen.” Shen smirked. “Let’s get this thing out on the track, ok?”

.

.

Kon-Mai pouted as her brother carried her down the hall toward her room. “I can walk perfectly fine, Dhar-Mon.”

“I will take no chances with your health.” Dhar-Mon insisted, his loud voice booming in the empty hallway.

Kon-Mai rolled her eyes. “He did not hit me that hard.” She chuckled. “The bed did most of the work.”

“The impact could have broken your back!” Dhar-Mon asserted. “No, it is better you do not try to walk on an aggravated injury!”

“Would you do this with Gur-Rai?” She asked. “Is it because I am so young?”

“Of course I would do this for him!” He scoffed. “And you two are both incredibly young. As your eldest brother, it is my job to protect you!”

Kon-Mai fell silent at that. “Your job?”

“Of course.” He said calmly. “If it were Gur-Rai in this predicament, I would bear his scrawny little body to bed as well.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, but something about it sat ill with her. It felt strange to be curled in her big brother’s arms like a child. Strange, but not exactly bad.

She pressed her face into his shoulder as he opened the door to her room. “Rest here, Sister.” He said as he laid her gently on her large bed, stopping her as she went to rise from it. “Would you like anything? Some water perhaps?”

“Well, if you are going to insist I bind myself to this bed, then yes, I would welcome some water.” She chuckled, as he took the glass already at her beside and went to fill it at the sink. She turned onto her side, her back still aching but the pain subsiding slowly as the fresh injuries faded into bruises. She had to admit, her throat was a tad sore.

“Take this, you insolent child~” Her brother mumbled, chuckling, as he came back to her. Instead of just leaving it, he put a hand to her back and directed her to sit up, handing her the water and ensuring she drank.

“Why do we still drink?” She said as she handed the now half-empty glass back to her brother. “We do not need food, why water?”

“Psionic energy can compensate for many things.” Dhar-Mon took the glass and left it beside her on the table. “But it cannot compensate for moisture. And the Elders could not eliminate that need completely.”

“They could not do many things, under examination.” Kon-Mai chuckled. 

Dhar-Mon sighed, taking a minute to formulate whatever he wanted to say next. He would open his mouth, then close it again and shake his head.

“You are right, Sister.” He finally said. “They couldn’t deliver upon half of what they promised us.”

She reached out and rubbed his arm. “Do not try and justify their actions to yourself. The Elders are incapable of feeling the love you held for them.”

“I try.” He admitted. “But I find the more I try to accept this evil as fact, the angrier I become. Sometimes, it feels even worse to accept that they are morally deprived. It is easier to think I did something wrong.”

Kon-Mai followed his silence with her own, only reaching out to take his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “I know.” She whispered. “I know the feeling of it. It hurts me, as well, Brother.”

“Please, let us not dwell on this.” He stood up. “Do you need anything else?”

“Hand me some of the fabric over there, and my pins.” She smiled. “If I am now bedbound, I’m going to get to work on making you those shirts.”

“And Gur-Rai his trousers.”

“Ah, yes. I need to get his measurements…” She sighed.

.

.

Senuna threw on her blue cardigan, buttoning the front few buttons just as the door slid open. Bradford wheeled Shaojie Zhang inside, toting his IV drip behind him. The old man looked like he was on death’s door still, but upon seeing Senuna, his face lit up.

“Sunny.” He whispered. “It really is you.”

“Chilong!” She vaulted over her desk and sprinted up to him, kneeling down and reaching out for his hands, as though she were afraid to touch him.

“Come now, is that any way to greet an old friend?” He held his arms open, and she smiled and dove into his grasp, leaning into his hug.

“It’s been so long.” She whispered. “There’s so much I have to tell you.”

“And there is much I must tell you.” Zhang pulled away. “Commander. You will want to sit down for this.”

She furrowed her brow, moving back to her desk as Bradford pushed Zhang in front of it. Jane, ever watchful, sat off to the side on one of her white leather couches, her hands in her lap. Bradford moved to the Commander’s side, reaching for a discarded mug of coffee that had long gone cold.

As soon as everyone was settled, Zhang spoke. “Moira Vahlen is alive.”

Senuna gasped. Bradford dropped his cup of coffee, shattering it on the floor. Even Jane’s stony face twisted into a look of shock and horror. Zhang maintained eye contact with the Commander the whole time, the lines across his face making him look almost angry.

Senuna began to tremble, her lip quivering. “...Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He nodded. “I heard she was passing through Triad territory.”

“Stop stop stop.” Bradford raised a hand. “Triad is still operating? Under ADVENT?”

“That is what I heard.” Zhang said. “They’re operating...WITH ADVENT.”

“Christ.” Jane sighed. “That’s what we need right now.”

“If Vahlen was in Triad territory, then…” Bradford closed his eyes, and they could practically smell the gears turning in his head.

“She might not be there on behalf of ADVENT!” Senuna cried. “She might be on the run from them. Or was escaping capture. And it’s the first lead we have.”

“It’s been 25 years.” Jane said. “How did you even get this info, Zhang? I thought they had you locked up.” She glared at him suspiciously.

He sighed. “I understand your concerns. Rest assured I had no love affair with ADVENT.” He growled. “But with the torture of my mind...my powers grew. I heard things.”

“Oh?” Jane’s look did not soften.

“Yes.” Zhang met her gaze. “While my body rotted and festered, my mind grew sharp. Soon enough, Nuwa’s little birds heard my message. And they got you to come to me.”

Senuna was silent, seemingly pondering all of this. “...So the Triad...is loyal to ADVENT?”

Zhang looked up. “No...ADVENT and the Triad work hand in hand.”

“Why?” Senuna raised a brow. “ADVENT is in charge of the world. They don’t need the mafia.”

“They are technically in charge, but their hold on China was never strong.” Zhang admitted. “Triad operatives have made ADVENT’s takeover much...smoother in the past 25 years. Their agents work as members of ADVENT. They hold jobs as governors. They administer finance. And from what I heard, they are beginning to grow dissatisfied.”

Senuna smiled, her teeth glinting in the light. “Then this is our perfect opportunity. The stars have aligned, it’s time for XCOM to get down and dirty.” She stood up. “When you have recovered, Zhang, how would you feel about making contact with the Triad again?”

“I don’t know how welcoming they will be.” He admitted. “But for you, Sunny, I am willing to try.”

“Thank you.” She stepped around her desk again her desk and embraced him in a gentle but firm hug. “I missed you, Chilong.”

“And I you, Sunny.” He patted her back gently with the arm not hooked up to the IV.

.

.

Dhar-Mon had actually hoped his sister would request that he stay with her for a bit. Talking to her was always so much fun, she had a brilliant mind, and her presence was calming. In fact it was perhaps one of the only things that did calm him since his...resignation. He would much rather have spent the afternoon helping her with her projects.

But instead, he was stuck here. In the radio room. Looking at maps.

This assignment had actually been Bradford’s idea. He’d assumed that since Dhar-Mon had set up his stronghold in the most famous church this side of Christendom, he was at least competent in strategy and geography. And, truth be told, Dhar-Mon did KNOW it, he just...found it mind-numbingly boring.

So he sighed, and sat back in the chair that was way too small for him, and stared over the map. He was supposed to scan each area for resistance contacts, or havens trying to get in touch with XCOM. That was coming up empty most places he looked. If they were out there, they were being quiet.

The day felt like it was dragging on, minutes blending into hours. Dhar-Mon leaned back in his chair, blowing a strand of hair away from his face, looking for something that captured his attention. He could find faces in the stucco on the ceiling; he’d done that back at the church when he couldn’t sleep and it was always a good use of his time. But this ceiling was made of metal grates, and there were no faces to find.

As Dhar-Mon leaned back even further, his heart leapt into his chest, and he felt a rush of air as the chair tipped over backward. He waved his arms around, trying desperately to grab something, and something he did indeed grab. Unfortunately, it lifted off the table with him, and he fell backwards onto the floor with a crash.

Dhar-Mon lay there for a moment, rubbing the soreness from his head, but really it was his pride that was hurt more than anything. He grumbled a few words in Etheric that he would have flayed Gur-Rai for saying, and slowly got to his feet, realizing that the object that caused his fall was still in his hand.

He looked down, then lifted it to his face for a closer look. It was a large, brown rectangular box, with black mesh on one side and several dials on the front. On the top was a large power button.

“Curious contraption.” Dhar-Mon set it on the table and stood the chair upright once again, sitting down carefully and making sure not to lean back this time. He stared at the map again for a moment, before his eyes wandered back to the strange machine on the table behind him.

It was dusty and cold, utterly lifeless. Gur-Rai would probably have a field day with it. Gur-Rai would probably know what it WAS for that matter. But Gur-Rai always got to have fun with electronics, and Dhar-Mon had found this one, therefore he should be the one to play with it. It was only fair.

Dhar-Mon grabbed it again and set it on his lap, staring at it. He turned it over, saw nothing, and then set it upright again and pressed the power button.

“HELLO LOVELY LISTENERS, THIS IS YOUR DIVINE DJ-”

The loudness of the noise coming from the machine frightened Dhar-Mon so badly, he flung the box across the room. It landed with a loud thud and skipped a bit, but the extreme clamor continued. He huddled in the chair, staring at it for what felt like an hour.

“AND I’M HERE BRINGING YOU ALL THE BIGGEST HITS FROM BEFORE THIS DAMNED DECADE!” The sound was far too loud, but now that he wasn’t startled, Dhar-Mon was more intrigued by this strange noise maker. He got up and slowly slunk over to it, reading through each of the buttons as he got closer. He tried turning one, and the noise turned to static for a moment but it did not get any less loud. The one right next to it, however, brought the volume to an acceptable level.

“Anybody remember the early 2000’s?” The DJ said, his voice now at a level Dhar-Mon could listen to without cringing. “I was just a little kid back then, but man oh man, those were some good times. Stealing my sister’s rubber bracelets, diaries with voiced passwords, we thought that was the future.” The DJ chuckled with nostalgia as Dhar-Mon set the box down on the table again.

“Well here’s a classic from all the way back in 2009! My momma used to play this on the radio all the time...heh, she never caught the double meaning. Here’s Britney Spears in “If U Seek Amy.”

The music started off slow, with a high pitched woman’s voice singing the tune, but Dhar-Mon startled once again as the beat suddenly dropped. It was a pounding, rhythmic melody, and he almost turned the volume back down until she started singing again.

Oh baby, baby, have you seen Amy tonight? Is she in the bathroom, is she smokin' up outside? Oh baby, baby, does she take a piece of lime For the drink that I'mma buy her, do you know just what she likes?

At first, Dhar-Mon bristled. This was the kind of music Gur-Rai would listen to, and he took anything that boy recommended with several grains of salt. But he found, as the melody continued, the beat was rather catchy, and the music, combined with the woman’s amazing singing talent, was beginning to loosen his trepidation.

Love me, hate me Say what you want about me But all of the boys and all of the girls Are begging to “If U Seek Amy”

It definitely did not help him pay attention to his task at hand, in fact the music drew his attention away, but with almost no resistance on his part, Dhar-Mon let his mind wander with the beat of the song.

Love me, hate me But can't you see what I see? All of the boys and all of the girls Are begging to F-U-C-K Me

.

.

Malinalli hated days when it wasn’t busy, especially if those days came right after a mission. It meant that something had gone terribly wrong.

She’d helped with Zhang’s clean-up, but the surgery itself Tygan shooed her out of the room for, and he’d been assigned a different recovery nurse. Everyone was talking about this enigmatic new stranger who the Commander put so much stake in, and all the medics wanted to be the one to oversee his care. But his room was locked up tight, save for a few officers. She’d seen Kon-Mai go in there earlier though. Maybe the Shrinemaiden could sneak her in~

The area she was supervising was pretty much empty, save for the occasional soldier coming down for Tylenol or because they found a tick on them or because their tongue was green after they’d eaten three lime popsicles. Malinalli sighed at the empty room as she ran her fingers through the supply cabinet one more time. Some things never changed, from bootcamp trainee to Avenger medic.

She pulled her hair out from it’s bun, rubbing her sore scalp as her natural curls flowed free. As important as it was to ensure the cotton balls were sorted on merit of fluffiness, she figured a fifteen minute break wouldn’t end any lives.

She turned on her heels and began down the hall, her steps a bit off kilter as she closed her eyes and yawned. Maybe she’d get a nap after her shift. But she had promised Dhar-Mon they’d practice more today…

Dhar-Mon. She’d never miss out on a session with him. A flush of warmth came to her cheeks. Of all the girls to get so lucky-

And she cut that thought right there! Dhar-Mon was a friend, and had pretty much just been introduced to life outside a cult. She’d never push something like romance on him, not like that.

Malinalli took a deep breath and straightened her back, shoving those thoughts down. Dhar-Mon was her friend. A very, very good friend, whom she trusted. He was her friend.

As she reached the women’s barracks, she stopped, her ears picking up a faint, almost silent noise.

Of crying.

Malinalli steeled herself. This sometimes happened after a particularly hard mission, and she knew the last one had seen a casualty. Soldiers close to one another would sometimes snap from the pressure.

But as Malinalli rounded the corner, she did not expect to see- “Vicky?”

Her fellow medic sat in a puddle of her own sorrow, her nose and eyes beet red from, presumably, hours of crying. Her usually neat little buns were hanging loose by her neck, and she hadn’t even taken off her uniform, still from that fateful mission.

At the sound of Malinalli’s voice, Vicky lifted her head, staring up at her with melancholic brown eyes. Malinalli almost staggered at the sight of this usually cold, bitchy nurse with an ego the size of Earth, now crumpled on the floor.

She thought of asking Vicky what had happened, but something told her the death of Shamil Naumov had something to do with it. Instead of saying anything, she sat beside her colleague, offering her some comfort even though they had never been close. Malinalli reached out, not quite touching her, but offering her a hand.

“If you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

“It’s not fair!” The floodgates opened again, and Vicky began to bawl. “It’s not fair! I tried so hard, Molly!”

“I know.” Malinalli put a tentative hand on her back. “It’s not your fault.”

“Tell that…” She hiccuped. “Tell that to the Commander!”

“The Commander? Vicky, what happened?”

Vicky began to sob harder, to the point that Malinalli couldn’t understand a word she was saying.

“Vicky, hey, take a deep breath.” She patted her back. “Please, you’re gonna make yourself sick crying like that.”

“She’s making me go! I don’t wanna go!” Vicky said, continuing to wail.

Malinalli furrowed her brow. “Making you go...where?”

“Off the ship! She said...she fired me, Molly!”

Malinalli gasped, a numb feeling of shock settling over her bones. The Commander fired Vicky? “Why?”

“Because I…” Vicky’s sobs were turning to sniffles. “I was trying to save Shammy…”

“Are you kidding?” Malinalli scoffed. “That...that’s…” She clenched her fists and took a deep breath. “That isn’t right.”

“She said because of me Zhang…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. The tears began again. “Molly...Shammy was like...he was all I had…”

“I...I know.” Malinalli squeezed her shoulder. “Shamil was an amazing person, and he wouldn’t stand for you being treated this way…” She stood up. “Wait here for me.”

Vicky looked up at her. “What are you going to do?”

Malinalli pondered that for a moment. “Either to get you your job back, or to get kicked off the Avenger myself.”

.

.

Shen let out an ear splitting scream as Gur-Rai’s bike flew over a bump in the path. He revved the engine and leaned forward, the wheels gliding back onto the dirt like it was butter.

“THIS IS AWESOME!” Shen dug her nails into his jacket, and Gur-Rai laughed.

“Just you wait, Lily!” He chuckled as he sped up, the wind whipping past his face and a smile on his lips.

“WHERE ARE WE GOING?!” Shen screamed in his ear as he headed straight for a large, conspicuous pile of dirt off the side of the road.

“Hang on!” He called back to her, and floored the pedal. He had no idea how fast he was going, but this was the most excitement he’d felt since XCOM had come knocking on his door.

“GUR-RAI!” Shen screeched and buried her head in his shoulder. “NONONO!”

At the last second, he pulled up, the front wheel lifting from the ground and colliding with the dirt pile. The bike zoomed to the top and flew into the air, Shen screaming the entire time, and Gur-Rai let out a whoop and a holler as they came back down with a thunk.

“Stop! Stop for a second!” Shen pulled on his jacket. As she wished, Gur-Rai pulled over, and Shen sprang off the seat and sprinted into the weeds, stopping only as she bent over and hurled into the grass.

“Oh, stars.” He put the kickstand down and jogged over to her, brushing her short hair out of her face as she continued blowing chunks. “I’m sorry. Never doing THAT again, that’s for sure.” He patted her back. “I’m sorry, Lily.”

She coughed, spat, and waved nonchalantly. “That...was so fun!”

Gur-Rai blinked. “...You just made your insides your outsides.”

“Yeah. I mean it was fucking terrifying.” Shen shrugged. “But that was the most fun I’ve had in AGES!.”

Gur-Rai chuckled. “And this is why I hang with you, Lily.”

“Thanks, same to you.” She caught his hand in a tight shake and pointed to the grassy area not covered in her puke. “Mind if we sit for a bit? My legs are wobbly.”

“Of course.” He plopped down in a shorter patch, and Shen laid down beside him on her back. There was a brief moment of comfortable silence between the two.

“Man, I really do love the stars out here.” Shen sighed. “Now if only humanity didn’t have to be enslaved to get this clear a sky.”

“One of these days I’m taking you up in a spaceship.” He said. “You’d LOVE the stars you see up there.”

She looked over to him. “You’ve been in spaceships?”

“Oh yes. A few times.” He laid back beside her. “Not often, we could teleport back then, but I got to go up in a couple scout ships.” Shen was silent for a moment, and he took the opportunity to interject. “What about you, Lily?”

“Have I...been in a spaceship?”

“No.” He chuckled. “I mean, what about you, Lily? What brought you here? What made you want to save the world?”

She hesitated. “Well like I said, before, Dad worked for XCOM...and I guess I wanted to be near his memory.”

“But you’re not your father, Lily.” He looked her over.

She fell very quiet. “...No...sometimes I worry about that.”

“About what?”

“That I don’t measure up.” Shen answered so quietly he could barely hear her. “Sometimes...I dunno. It’s stupid.”

“No, no.” Gur-Rai turned over on his side, facing her. “Sometimes what?”

Shen hesitated. “Sometimes, I still feel like a dumb teenager who just wandered in here. Like I don’t actually belong…” She sat up and threw her arms around her legs. “Like, my dad had a doctorate in Engineering and Artificial Intelligence. I’m just some kid who puts parts together, and makes things run good.”

“Oh hang on now.” Gur-Rai sat up and grabbed her shoulder. “The FAMOUS Lily Shen is not just some dumb kid slamming parts together.”

“I feel like it, sometimes.” She whimpered. “I feel like everyone else is so important and I just...don’t belong. My dad should be here.”

“Your dad was a brilliant man, I will not deny. But YOU are just as brilliant, Lily, if not MORE!” He jumped to his feet. “Look at that bike!”

“Yeah…?”

“You built that bike!”

“WE built that bike.”

“Yes but you knew EXACTLY how to make it run smoothly. If that was all me? It would have exploded the first bump it hit!” He sat down again. “Whatever. Here’s my point: you do your job better than anyone else on this ship, Lily. Fuck the doctorate, doesn’t mean shit anyway, at least not in ADVENTLAND.”

She looked up at him with shiny eyes. “...You serious?”

“Lily. Some of what you built rivals ADVENT tech.” He clapped. “That...that’s INSANE. You gave THE ELDERS a run for their money. You are flipping incredible as an engineer, and I’m so happy I’m on your team now because you could kick my ass without lifting a finger.”

She chuckled. “Well, yeah, THAT’S true.” She winked. “Although I bet I could get in a few good hits myself.”

“Well then I challenge you to a duel. Later.” He grabbed her hands and hauled her to her feet. “Look here, I call you Dr. Shen not because of a piece of paper, but because what you’ve done makes you a certified genius.”

Shen rubbed the back of her head and kicked the ground. “...Thanks...Gur-Rai.”

“Anytime, Lily.” He winked.

“No, I mean it.” She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his torso, squeezing him in a tight hug.

“I never assumed you didn’t.” He chuckled and patted her back. “Hey. Why don’t you drive us home?”

She scoffed. “Me, drive? Are you kidding?”

“Of course not. Go on, Doctor.” He grinned.

She punched him in the arm and sauntered over to the bike. “If we crash, it’s your fault.”

“Always is, Lily, it always is.”

.

.

Malinalli sucked in a breath as she stood outside the Commander’s room. It was always so nerve-wracking going in there. Even though the Commander was only ever sweet and kind to her, she was also very high strung. One wrong word and she might blow up in your face.

But she had to do this.

She reached for the door and knocked. After a bit of clunking on on the other side, it slid open and Bradford stood there. “Oh, hello Molly.”

“Um…” She stammered. “Is the Commander busy?”

“She’s finishing up meeting with Zhang right now.” He said. “But I can tell her-”

“Is that Malinalli?!” The Commander called from inside, and Bradford sighed.

“Yes.”

“Tell her to come in! Molly, come in!” Senuna called. Malinalli heard the Commander say something else, addressing Zhang, but the words were muffled.

“She is on the ship? That’s dangerous, Sunny.” Another voice whispered, deep and accented, and somehow familiar? That must have been Zhang.

Malinalli stepped inside and saluted Commander Senuna, who giggled and returned it. The medic gazed around the room, and her eyes fell on the old man sitting in the chair, still in his hospital gown, still connected to the IV drip.

“Colonel Zhang.” She saluted him. “It’s...nice to finally meet you. I’m Malinalli...Zúñiga…” She watched in confusion as he seemed to say her last name under his breath. Had she imagined that?

Zhang bowed awkwardly around what Malinalli was sure was a sore wound. “Hello Malinalli, it’s an honor to meet you as well...Senuna has told me so much about you.”

Malinalli smiled in confusion. “Oh...that’s wonderful.” She glanced up in bewilderment at the Commander, who smiled with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“What did you need, sweetie?” Senuna asked.

“Um…” Now came the hard part. Malinalli swallowed and took a deep breath. “Madam, I’m here to discuss Vicky’s termination. I don’t think it was right.”

The tension in the room grew cold and stiff, and Bradford slunk back to Senuna’s side, seeking to prepare himself for the explosion that was brewing.

Senuna’s green eyes turned cold. “Oh?”

Malinalli was shaking like a leaf, but she forced her voice out. “I understand she performed...poorly-”

“Poorly is an understatement.” Senuna snapped. “She completely disregarded her duty as a soldier. Ask Colonel Zhang. HE was the one she was meant to save.”

Malinalli looked to Zhang. His eyes were plastered onto her, watching her every move. She felt like she was on the verge of shattering.

“Madam...she was scared.” Malinalli whispered. “Sometimes...the best of us break. It happens in battle. I’ve seen good, strong soldiers lose their cool in the stress of combat. Even I’ve done it before.”

“You never left a soldier to die, Molly.”

“I don’t know about that...” Malinalli met Senuna’s eyes, turquoise meeting aquamarine. “People have died under my care before...I’ve frozen up, sometimes when I couldn’t afford to. Maybe some of them I couldn’t save, but some...if I’d just had my wits about me, maybe they’d still be here.”

Senuna seemed to ponder that. “That being said, this was not just a soldier. This was Zhang. Vicky understood how important he was to retrieve alive.”

“I know. And I’m not saying she shouldn’t be punished. She should.” Malinalli held her hands out in a pleading motion. “But...please Madam, give her another chance.”

“And if she fails again? If she freezes in the field? If she lets another soldier DIE?” Senuna snapped, and Malinalli swore her eyes were glowing.

“Then I’ll take responsibility and you can demote me as you see fit!” This part made Malinalli scream internally, but it was a gamble she had to take. The Commander had to know she was serious. “If you truly decide to terminate Vicky’s employment with XCOM, I won’t question you. But...I think she’s capable, Madam. She just needs a second chance.” She glanced over to Zhang, and noticed a slight smile on his face.

Senuna sat in utter quiet for a moment, and Malinalli feared the worst.

Then she took a breath and spoke. “You make a good point, little one.” She shrugged. “And really, we can’t afford to lose any good medics…” She tapped her glittery nails on the desk. “Fine, I’ll reinstate her employment, but she will be demoted to Squaddie, and I’ll need her to go through at least 100 hours of training before she sees combat again.” She laced her fingers together. “And maybe a written apology for her behavior. I don’t know. I’ll think on that~”

Malinalli physically sighed, letting out the breath she’d been holding. “Thank you! Thank you so much, Madam! Thank you, thank you!”

Senuna smiled. “Oh Malinalli, anything for you sweetheart.” She pressed a button on her intercom. “Would Victoria Immanuel please report to the Commander’s Quarters? The Commander needs to speak to her.”

Malinalli saluted Senuna and turned to leave, glancing one last time at Zhang. His golden eyes still following her, he nodded slightly, the smile on his face growing into a knowing smirk.

The door closed behind her.

.

.

“That was ‘I Gotta Feelin’” by the Black Eyed Peas! Always were a favorite of mine.”

Dhar-Mon hadn’t even realized he’s been staring at the same spot on the map for 15 minutes straight. He was lost in the songs. The music was captivating, his mind would go miles a minute with the beat of each one. It felt like he was reading a book, but each word had orchestral accompaniment.

He reached over and turned up the volume just as the DJ began to speak again. “Now for our next song: if you were alive before 2015, you’ll know this voice. Maybe not the song, but hell, you’ll know the singer. This is ‘Porcelain’ by the woman who needs no introduction!”

Dhar-Mon listened closely, the beats beginning soft, the tune syncing to the squeaking of chains. Then he heard her voice.

Hold your horses Hold, hold the border Don't come closer Don't, don't let go of me

It sounded so incredibly familiar, but in any case, it was beautiful. Her words carried with them such emotion, it nearly crippled him.

I'm like porcelain When you're with me All, all I know is

Just about a million ways to harm you All the things I shouldn't say Are the things that, when I want to make you happy Only comes out of me

This one didn’t feel like the others. The beat drew up again and became faster, but something about the music was agonizing and melancholic and so, so sad. Whoever this woman was was hurting when she wrote this, when she sang this.

We have got the power of destruction You can always let it fall But when we try to work on something solid It is too goddamn hard

He took a breath and knew he should probably turn this off. He’d been sitting here for too long anyway, he had to get back to work. But he could not bring himself to move his hand, to reach for the power button to turn off the machine.

Why did this song make him think on Malinalli’s face?

The song trailed off and ended just as he reached for the button, and Dhar-Mon froze as the DJ spoke again.

“That was ‘Porcelain’ by the lady, the lovely, the legend, Senuna.”

.

.

.

.

.

(After that last chapter, some things needed to be sorted out. I’d say it all turned out better. At least I hope it did!

I REALLY need to thank @pgirl1986 for helping me with Zhang’s characterization. She was the one who inspired me to add him with how she wrote him! Thank you for all the help! d=(´▽｀)=b

Songs used are “If U Seek Amy” by Britney Spears and “Porcelain” by Skott.)

Archive: chosenstories.tumblr.com/

[currentlyreadingmanga]

Toilet-bound Hanako-kun Chapter 13: The 4pm Bookstacks (Part 3)

Previously: we met the fifth mystery of the school, Tsuchigomori, and poor Yashiro and Kou had quite the embarrassing time sharing some of their secrets. We also learned about the possible threat of a traitor among the mysteries and about Hanako’s drastic plan that consists of destroying the yorishiros before any of them have the chance of go on a rampage like it happened with Yako. After some funny moments and some adorable bonding time with our main trio, Tsugochimori agreed to guide them to his yorishiro. Oh! And Tsuchigomori seems like a huge grumpy tease and I already kinda love him. So yeah......

Now onto the next chapter!

Ahhh it’s nice to be back. Not only I was too busy studying but I’m also dealing with a cold at the moment, so I’m really glad that I get to take this weekend off to rest. So what better way to do it than this? I’m so excited!

There’s a lot going on here. I’m not sure who the figure kneeling on the ground could be. (EDIT: Hello, this is future me after reading this chapter and also chapter 14, and: Would this be Tsuchigomori? since everything else here hints at the conversation he had with Hanako in the memory we saw. Also and I could be reaching with this the fact that he’s in this position, kneeling before Hanako who is holding the lunar rock and what I assume to be his own book seems significant. Because I often associate a kneeling position with two main emotions: devotion and defeat. And here I think it could be trying to convey the latter. Like, Tsuchigomori knew that Hanako was clearly going through a lot but didn’t do anything about it because his book said that he would turn up fine, that this child would have a secure and happy future despite it all. But then he died, way too soon, when he still was just a child. And now here he remains at the school, as the seventh mystery, Hanako-san. And idk despite this grumpy attitude Tsuchigomori tries to maintain, he seemed to be obviously distraught by what happened; like, it wouldn’t be weird to me if he felt some degree of guilt because he didn’t try to help more)

Besides that, there seem to be newspaper clippings? also bandages and possibly rubbing alcohol? also tweezers? Quite a few items that one can find in a first aid kit, if that’s the case. 

And then there’s the main focus of the image: Hanako holding a rock of some sort and,... his own book? maybe? that’s my best since it seems to be black. ...........wait, could we possibly find out more about him this chapter??? ohhhhhhh now I’m even more excited. But yeah, there’s also a rope (?) tied to his pinky finger. Could that be a reference to the red string of fate? That’s the only thing that comes to mind. God, I have so many questions and this is barely the first page, I need to move on or we’ll be here forever.

But yeah, we’re right where we left off last time and Tsuchigomori is leading them to his yorishiro.

Update: Still hot

Kou and Hanako are pumped to get this done but oh! it seems like Tsuchigomori is only gonna let Yashiro go with him since she’s the one that will destroy the yorishiro. Also, he calls her “kannagi girl” and: “a medium or shaman, usually female, who acts as a medium between humans and the spirits or gods, helping to communicate between the two and to calm any supernatural or spiritual upset”. That’s interesting. Is that just a general term that is used to refer to humans who have this ability? Yashiro has it because she’s Hanako’s assistant and because of the bond they share, right? Or would there be another reason for it? Like, could she have had this ability even if she didn’t have this connection with Hanako? Because she was still able to see him the first time she went to the bathroom...but I guess she still wasn’t able to touch him there, so maybe she wouldn’t have been able to touch a yorishiro either if they hadn’t been linked together.

Well, Hanako says it just means that she’s his assistant, so I guess we can leave it at that.

Kou is not happy at all with the idea of letting Yashiro go alone with Tsuchigomori (can’t say I really blame him, I mean, even if I don’t think he’s a bad guy, they just learned he’s a supernatural being just a few minutes (?) ago). The man in question just asks Hanako if he can’t trust him to not do anything to Yashiro and Hanako ends up agreeing to let her go but

That’s a warning if I’ve ever seen one. Like, “you better take good care of her or else”, you know? That’s the feeling it gives me.

But yeah, Yashiro ends up going alone with Tsuchigomori. Am I worried about her? I mean, yeah, a bit. Again, he doesn’t give me bad vibes and I don’t think he will try anything, but Yashiro tends to find herself in risky situations way too often so the possibility is always there.

The place looks like a cave of some sort and it seems to be filled with gemstones and ohhh now I understand their presence in that one colour page a couple of chapters ago.

Her sense of self-preservation really is almost non-existent, huh? Yashiro, sweetie, please be careful, please, I beg of y o  u

Oh! They keep walking and he asks her about how Hanako and her are getting along and

First: I love my babies so much, their friendship warms my heart. There’s no denying that Hanako is a little shit sometimes (a lot of the time) but he really has been mostly kind to Yashiro since they’ve met.

Second: not only this man is a big tease, but he’s also a softie on the inside, isn’t he? Like, I kinda got that feeling last chapter when he looked so shocked about Hanako’s expression and when he gave Yashiro and Kou head pats, and this just seems like more evidence. From the way he slowly asked the question and how he didn’t look at her while asking, to his surprise stare and his awkward head scratch when she answered, everything screams “I care about these children but I refuse to show it because I have an image to upkeep gdi”. Please tell me he’s gonna be the reluctant father figure, it would be amazing

It sure looks that way, Yashiro, and I’m so here for it.

She asks him if what’s written in the books can be changed because she doesn’t want to have her heart broken by some douche in the future awwww baby. But that’s a very good question, I hadn’t really thought about it. Tsuchigomori says it is “fundamentally impossible to alter the future”. Huh. Okay, that’s interesting. So, even if you were to read your own book, you still wouldn’t be able to change what’s written there? Like, even if you tried to change things, the outcome would still be the same no matter what? 

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh that’s a cool mechanic. By raising the stakes so high, it gives us a better understanding of how some of the rules of this world work. But it also brings up more questions: like, how does he know that he will be erased if he changes the future? is there a higher entity that oversees these kinds of matters? Hanako had mentioned that he had made a deal with “God” so that his sins would be forgiven, after all.

.................you can’t say that and don’t tell us how this person changed their future! Especially when you’ve emphasized how rare it is! C’mon, now I wanna now!! also what he said to Yashiro is really sweet awww i can see behind your grumpy facade, you can’t fool me

Anyway, they’ve arrived at their destination and wow there are so many big gemstones on top of books! Now I really want to see this room animated. It looks really pretty~ 

Like Yashiro, I thought that one of those was his yorishiro but nope, we were wrong and thinking about it I guess it makes sense since it would be kinda weird to have it so obviously displayed; like, this room is hidden already but it’s understandable that he would hide it even within the room itself.

omfg Yashiro please that’s rude! 

But also! “are ones with the strongest feelings connected to them” + that soft look and that slight smile!! There’s obviously a very important story behind it (again, like we saw with Yako and her scissors) and we’ll learn about it, right? We saw Yako’s memories of Misaki when Yashiro destroyed the yorishiro, so something similar should happen when she destroys this rock-.....wait.......

Okay so I went back to look at the first page of this chapter and

Is that the same rock?? What does that mean?? Is it just for artistic reasons or is it connected? Did Hanako give Tsuchigomori that rock? Is that why he was acting worried about our little ghost boy before? But if that’s the case, when would have this happen? And why would he have such strong feelings connected to it? Are we gonna find out? omg adjshfda

Ohhhhhhhh he says that the one who gifted him that rock was the guy that changed his future! And he mentions that he still doesn’t know why the future changed. And that’s very curious, like, if it is as hard as he mentioned, then it would be nearly impossible, right? But also if that rock is related to Hanako does that mean that he’s the one that changed his future?? how??? please?? I need answ e r  s

...................excuse me, what??? um, I have questions, the main one being: how?? 

He says that he got the rock the day after the moon landing and honestly? the timing of that is impressive, considering he says that this guy wasn’t an astronaut 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is that my ghost child I see??? Oh my god did they meet when Hanako was still alive???? Are we getting his back story so soon??? Okay, I need to. calm tf down and keep reading so I’ll find out ahhhh

Don’t you dare keep me in the dark after dropping a bomb like that, Tsuchigomori! You may be hot and charming but I’ll hunt you down for the answers I need, mister

Ahhhhhhhhhh okay, so she took the seal off, so that should destroy the yorishiro and the boundary, right?

!!!!!!!!!

So we are getting to see the memories connected to the object like with Yako! And there it says the date: 1969-7-22

Oh boy, oh man, here we go

There’s the school!

!!!!!!!!!

∑(;°Д°) !!!!!!!!!! THERE HE IS!!! WHY IS HE SO HURT OH MY GOD WHAT

jfc he’s covered with bruises and cuts. Who would do something like this??? God, that’s horrible and Tsuchigomori says it’s a daily thing? Is it a bad case of bullying? Where are his parents? Because those are not injures he would be able to hide, there are too many and in very obvious places. Hell, all the possibilities running through my head just get worse and worse. Like, it could be that his parents are dead, or that his parents know and don’t care, or even that his parents are the ones behind it and just. god, that would honestly be heartbreaking

He looks so sad and small here. Just an innocent child ffs who would do this to him??

This has been going on for more than a year???? Does no one care about the state this child is in except for Tsuchigomori??? I- okay, deep breaths, I need to calm down and keep reading

(So. Amane Yugi. So we’ve finally got his real name, huh? Is the translation here last name+first name or did the change the order to first name+last name?)

Sorry, it’s just that. I’m so used to seeing Hanako being goofy and silly that seeing him look so defeated and broken here just makes my heart hurt.

Tsuchigomori says that he wants Hanako, or, well, Amane, to talk to him about who is doing this to him because he’s worried who wouldn’t be and Amane says that it isn’t a problem but no, no, baby, it is, no one should even think about hurting you in such a way! And Tsuchigomori says just that: “just what kind of reason could justify hurting someone this bad?” 

........................... I honestly feel like crying right now. It really is looking like someone close to him is the one behind this and it’s just fucking horrible someone please stop this train of feels I want to get out (ಥ﹏ಥ)

You know, I have heard that this series gets angstier as the chapters go on but I really. really didn’t expect to get this emotional oh boy

(EDIT: I’ve already read and taken notes for chapter 14 but I’m really tired, so I’ll edit it and upload it tomorrow since I also have to crop the images)

[mochixjimin]

Fade to Black (M)

Kim Namjoon |BTS| smut

Word Count: 6.8K

Warnings: exhibitionism, bodily fluid play, major dom/sub themes, fellatio, fingering, language, derogatory names, degredation, choking, just a lot of stuff, practice safe sex kiddos. -pls 18+ only-

The music on the radio seeped through your ears as you bounced giddily in the car seat, "Joonie, where are we going?"

He went to lightly pat your thigh before placing his hand back on the wheel, "Now baby, if I told where we're going, it wouldn’t be a surprise now, would it? I gave you plenty of hints leading up to this."

"No you did not! What kind of hint is "You can eat here?" Namjoon please tell me," you continued to whine, "C'mon, I'll make it worth your while." You wiggled your eyes under the cloth and blindly went to reach where you thought his hand was when he chuckled and tangled yours in his, "Look, that’s a great hint! All you have to do is sit back and let me guide you to the destination. I think that blindfold looks good on you."

"Joonie, I love you with all my heart, but it itches, and you are as navigationally correct as a broken compass. Can I just take it off and keep my eyes closed? I pinky promise I won't peek!"

"Nuh uh, that is a satin blindfold! It felt nice when I-"

You turned your cloth covered head in what you believed to be his direction, "When you what? Did you use this on yourself you freak! How amazing, so domjoon is real. Nice, the internet knows right."

He laughed and joked, "Of course, I have to make sure it was comfy for my girl… but you said you didn’t read that stuff!"

"I don’t… I mean at least not when you all aren't out on tour… Don’t judge me! A girl gets lonely without her boyfriend and you just have to make do with what you have available!" You defended as the car began to slow down and make a series of turns and stops.

"Well, I guess we will discuss that later… We're here!" He responded, unbuckling his seatbelt to get out and open your door.

Once Namjoon got you out the car and carefully walked you to the "surprise location," you beamed as if you would bounce into a new time zone, "Are we here!? Please tell me we're here, I hope we're here!"

"Yes babe, just a few more steps." He affirmed, placing his hands on your shoulders to guide you before stopping to give a drawn out countdown when you hastily added, "Four, three, two, one!"

You undid the blindfold and Namjoon threw a "Ta-da!" but the smile on your face fell short, "You dragged me across town to watch a movie? Joonie, are you serious?"

"You don’t like it?" He said, voice lowering in disappointment, "I thought it would be cute if we had a movie date, but at home is boring, this way you can run around and do that weird thing where you get up and pace because the main character did something dumb."

"Um, because if the killer is right there, why not just run? Literally, I would not be friends with such dumb people, it's always the smart people that die first! But no, I love it! I just thought it would be something crazy like a blimp ride or petting a lion?" You started to say loudly, but hushed down to a whisper as you remembered where you were.

He laughed loudly when you shushed him, "We are in a movie theater! What if someone was trying to watch the previews!?"

"Oh ____, I rented out the entire theater for us, and I had to make a deal with Jackson so he could spin it to his manager, but we'll have to watch three now playing movies, so I made sure they were all of the ones you wanted to watch. Also, you're afraid of heights, why would I ever put a dangerous creature near you, and surprise! I bought you a huge blanket so we can cuddle up as well."

You smiled widely and turned to give him a kiss and tight hug, "Oh Namjoon, you're too sweet! I love you so much, what are we watching?"

"I love you too. Well, I thought we'd start with a thriller to get your blood racing then finish the night out with a sappy romance movie; but not Titanic, I know how much you despise that movie."

You grumbled and muttered, "She didn't have to throw the diamond back in the ocean…" But you swooned and went to hug him once more before he led you to the recliner chairs towards the back. He grabbed the blanket and placed over the two of you then slid over your favorite candy when you were all settled in and comfortable, he motioned a gesture and the first movie began to play onscreen.

About an hour into the movie fest, you felt Namjoon's hand lay idle on your thigh. Usually, this wouldn’t bother you, but when it began to trail slowly up to the edge of your skirt, you found it harder and harder to watch the picture onscreen. "Um, Joonie? What are you doing?"

Without turning his head and stopping to massage your thigh he added,  "Just trying to give my girl the ultimate surprise, did you really think this would just be it?"

"N-Namjoon, what is that supposed to mean?" You asked as his fingers rubbed at the black material of your skirt to answer you, "I am fairly certain that a month ago, you told me in a drunken stupor that you always wanted to have sex in a movie theater, no?"

You balked and turned comically in his direction, "Ohhh… fuck. I didn’t mean any of that! You can't take what I say to heart, especially drunk! I'm also pretty sure that night Taehyung said he wanted to kiss Yoongi, does that make them secret lovers!?"

He didn’t budge and began to slowly dip his hand under your skirt, "Well it isn't a secret anymore, babe. But, maybe so, they have been spending quite a bit of time together, don’t you agree?"

"O-okay… well that’s not the point! They aren't together and we aren't fucking in this movie theater! What if someone comes in here?!" You lowered your voice as you continued to grow in unease as his hand went fully under the black material, "Babe, there's no need to whisper. We are here alone, no one will come in unless I call my buddy in the projection room. C'mon, I know you're ovulating, don't you think a reward is in order for being so good and restrained?"

You sat back, bit the corner of your lip, and tugged on it teetering between the fact that you could possibly get caught or not caring who might walk in and just letting him touch you. "Motherfucker, he did this on purpose." you thought. No wonder he would tiptoe around you, teasing you at every opportunity he could: letting a touch linger too long, a kiss heating up cut randomly, and hearing him touch himself when you were ten steps from him should have been a big hint.

He could sense you putting two and two together to whisper in your ear, "So princess, what do you say, want sir to make you feel good?"

You felt a tingle shoot up your spine at the name he only used in the bedroom before you nodded and grumbled, "We better not get fucking caught or I will end you. I think that Jin would make a good leader, don’t you?"

He kept his steely gaze over you before responding, "Princess. You want to be good or will I have to make you scream in this theater?"

"N-no, I'm sorry…" You whispered, but you felt a sharp tug at your hair making you wince, "Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir, I'll be good…" At that Namjoon loosened his grip, kissed your neck, and let out a low laugh, "Good girl, just relax."

He smiled inward, put his hand between your legs, and spread them as he inched closer to your center. His mouth went back to your ear, "How wet are you, babe? I know you missed my cock these last few weeks, I bet you're dripping."

"Uh, just a little… this movie is really cool though, I've never seen it before." All you could do was clear your throat and tried to avoid truly answering with your eyes only looking forward, " I like the flowers… the art direction is different."

"Princess, that's an advertisement for floral arrangements." He chuckled and placed his thumb directly on your clit over your soaked panties as you shut your eyes closed and curtly responded, "Mhm- it is?"

Namjoon smugly laughed again before saying, "Yeah, but it must be hard to watch the rest since your eyes are screwed shut. I only have my thumb on you, how will it feel when I slide your panties off and slide my cock into you?"

You whined, "Namjoon, please."

He dug his thumb painfully into your core, "Please who? That's not it kitten."

"Sir, please. I need you," you urged louder, almost begging him. "Please make your kitten feel good, I need your fingers."

"Only that? You don’t want this?" He aired, taking your hand and placing it over his crotch, "Can you feel how good thinking about being in that sweet cunt of yours makes me? You can't understand how hard it is to not just fuck you right now?"

"Then why don’t you?" you spat and ground your core into his hand, but he pulled away at your rushing him to angrily huff, "Namjoon! God, please fuck me, why are you teasing me?"

Just as he was about to answer, you two heard a random voice, "Well Hajoon, I swear this is the right theater? Look, there's a couple right there, let's ask them."

Your eyes bulged, and you scrambled to remove the hand he took to place on his crotch, trying to pry his strong hand from between your thighs, "Namjoon, please! They're coming over here!!"

Namjoon, not phased at all, scrunched the blanket in a manner to cover the laps of you two as the older couple approached and slipped his hand beneath the cotton material of your ruined panties, "…Yes, mam?"

"Oh my, I am sorry to interrupt your date young lady, but is this theater six?" The older woman asked, she looked no more than sixty years old and her husband the same, your breath hitched hoping that Namjoon wouldn't make a game out of this, "U-um, yes mam!" You hastily said, disregarding Namjoon for a second, until he pinched your clit, making you squeak but brought the attention his way so the older woman wouldn't question you more, "Why, it is quite alright. My girlfriend here is just worked up because she's been wanting to see this movie for a while. It's lovely to see that you two still go on dates and to action movies too? That's pretty cool."

The older woman began to soften at him, and the older man added, "You are so right young man! You remind me of myself in my youth, our first date was a film and ice cream, so we decided to come out and live like the kids do."

Namjoon chuckled and flashed them a dimpled smile on the surface while he slid his fingers up and down your center, "Nothing like making memories! New or old, we can look back on these days and reminisce about our sweethearts to revel in the ways they touched us."

You glared at him, reading between the lines of his words, but shifted uncomfortably and flashed the best forced 'I'm totally not about to get fucked in a theater' smile you could. You were about to verbally agree with him when Namjoon placed his thumb back over your clit and slid into you as he harshly massaged circles into your heat causing you to weirdly add, "Y-yeah, nothing like love! I hope you enjoy the movie!"

The older woman thanked Namjoon as she guided her husband back down the stairs and closer to the front. When he thought they were out of earshot the older man spoke, "Hyesun, that girl was being weird, at least she's pretty." You heard his backhanded compliment and scowled, "If she put a hand on your dick around people you'd act weird too, bitch."

"Ah, ah kitten. Don't disrespect your elders and you know I feel when you curse at me like a child." He scolded, but still rubbing you, "Now, back to what we were doing. What did you want?"

"N-Sir, I'm sorry. There are people here…" You tried to defend, slightly waning in your strength. Usually Namjoon wasn't this cruel when playing outside of the bedroom, the most he'd done in your three year relationship is buy one of those remote controlled vibrators, it was something you enjoyed, and to have your more reserved qualities breaking with him was something you loved about him. But to drag it to a theater, especially with these people in here, was on a higher level that made you secretly want to let them know how Namjoon could make you cum regardless of the situation.

"And? Are you afraid that those lovely older people will know how much of whiny, little slut you are?" Namjoon casually aired and sped up his touch making you gasp, "Fuck, are you close?"

You gritted your teeth and kept nodding no, but he asked again and again, "Princess, are you lying? You know you'd have to ask if you wanted to cum right?" He slowed down, his new pace making you bubble with annoyance and the disobedience hurled words his way before you could catch yourself, "No, I said I wasn't fucking lying. Can you let me cum now?"

He just made a 'tsk' sound and abruptly removed his fingers, before you knew it the hand that was on you was in your mouth, "Look at you," Namjoon scolded, but kept his grip on your tongue flat, "such a greedy bitch. I thought the time I spent not touching you would make you appreciate this, but you're acting just like a stupid brat. Suck."

You muffled a 'mmhm' before licking and sucking your essence off his fingers, the act itself making you gush. When he removed his fingers, he rubbed them over lips and gripped your chin to look in his eyes, "My needy bitch, look at you. I wonder what that couple would think if they saw how much of a whore you are, demanding to orgasm in a theater," he laughed and quickly flicked his eyes down to the one other couple to note that they were too distracted with the loud explosions on the screen to even be bothered, "if you want to cum, you'll really have to earn it now."

"Yes sir… I'm sorry sir." You could feel tears beading up at your eyes, you weren't a crier, but when Namjoon acted this way it frustrated you. He and anybody else for that matter let you have whatever you wanted, that's why he gave you the name Princess, but when he decided to that the princess shouldn't have her way all the time, he made you beg and it annoyed you, but his telling you no changed something inside you. It was followed by a long "session" of teaching you obedience, but you still had your slip-ups, and the current situation was one of them.

"Does the princess remember what do when she acts like a selfish bitch?" He coldly stated, you crumpled inward and slowly nodded as you removed the blanket from you and your shaky legs got up from the chair to stand in front of Namjoon. "Well, what are you waiting for? Turn around."

You let out an unsteady breath and slid the skirt up around your waist to pull down the soaked material covering your center, you hissed when the cool air of the theater hit you. The sound must have been louder than you thought, because the older woman sat forward and you quickly ducked down to pick your panties up from around your ankles. Namjoon smiled and waved at her, you assumed that she smiled back and as you went to get back up a strong hand pushed your shoulder causing your knees to painfully hit the ground, "Ah, what the Namjoon, fu-" you attempted to air, but Namjoon swiped the panties from your hands and shoved them into your mouth, "I can't spank you, I'll let you have a free pass this time, but my cock needs some relief, don’t you think so?"

"Mmhm yeth sir" you garbled as the panties obstructed your speaking. "Mm, good girl, I'll have to adjust your punishment, for now, take your top off now." He said making you smile at the first nice name, but you rushed to strip the striped crop top off your body to reveal the lacy bra you had on, "Ah, so you planned to be a bitch tonight I see."

You frowned and went to say no, but the balled up material failed you, "It's fine sweet girl, I know you'll take whatever I'll give you, is that correct?" Namjoon told you as he went to pluck the fabric from your lips, put it somewhere else, then dig around in his pocket to reveal the lacy, black collar that had an engraved 'Kitten' on the metal tag and the satin cloth he used earlier as your blindfold, "Don't think I could forget your collar pet. Now turn around for Sir."

Namjoon watched as you quietly shuffled in the other direction, knees painfully digging at the cold concrete below you. You normally wore a daytime collar with a cursive 'Princess' etched in pretty rose gold letters, and it was subtle enough to appear to be a regular necklace from a loving boyfriend, but this collar held in his hands was more intricate, had the word 'Sir's Pet' on the tag, and allowed for him to be more rough with you when need be.

Once the collars were switched around, he pulled you backwards, bending you towards his knees, "We will try this one more time. Will you swallow my cock down if it's presented to that whore mouth of yours?" You nodded and added, "Yes sir, I promise." He allowed you to twist back around as you placed your hands in your lap and you waited with your mouth open for his dick, "Fuck. Seeing you be so good is too much pet, does your mouth feel dry?"

You were about to answer when you opted to nod 'yes' instead, in actuality, your spit was pooling and dribbling out of your mouth, but not being able to rewet your tongue felt uncomfortable. Namjoon took the hand not holding the silk material to grip your chin once more and dipped his mouth down as if he would kiss you, your eyes fluttered closed due to him being so close to you in hopes that he would place a kiss on you, but he just laughed. You opened your eyes and tilted your head sideways to look at him quizzically when he responded, "Did you really think I would kiss those filthy, cock sucking lips of yours?"

If his hand weren't so tightly connected to your chin, you would have frowned in sadness, but before you knew how to react, he spits into your open mouth, then took his thumb to rub it in mixing his saliva with yours. He then harshly let go of you to reach down between your legs to swipe at the ground under your heat, "Your cunt is such a mess, when they have to clean after we leave Jackson will wonder what this is, I should make you lick it up and directly apologize to him for being so dirty."

Your eyes bared at him, silently begging for him not to be so cruel. "Well, alright pet. Do you want Sir's cock now?"

You sat up on your haunches excitedly, almost bouncing as he placed his hand at the zipper of his pants, "You ready?" He smugly said knowing the answer while undoing the zipper and gripping his length, "Aish, my dick is gonna feel so good sliding in that whore mouth. If those damn old people weren't here, I could make you scream, but you'll just have to work on keeping quiet pet."

With your mouth still open, you nodded and found odd gratefulness to the rude, older couple for being there. When Namjoon finally pulled out his length, you clamped your lips together to let out a very audible whimper, and Namjoon looked down to see if it was loud enough to alert the only other people in the theater, but they continued to watch as a car exploded on the screen, "So much for quiet pet. Have you missed my cock that much?"

You eagerly nodded and he went to place a hand on your head petting and slowly urging you closer to him, "Open wide." He took his length and rubbed it over your lips and tongue then hissed lowly as he slid into your mouth, "Mmhm, fuck." He unconsciously gripped your hair harder, bucked up in your mouth, and hit the back your throat roughly causing you to choke and tear up. You were a little out of touch since he hadn't kept up with your needs and training over the last few weeks, but he loved the watery, wide-eyed look you flashed him before swallowing his length like a good girl. He had no choice but to opt for keeping his pleasure to low grunts and smirks in ecstasy from your ministrations, but it didn't stop the fire in your center and him allowing you to drip, "My beautiful princess. You're good at taking cock well, did you know that? Sir loves when you can behave, fuck. When I get you home, your reward will be so fun to give you."

He bucked forward unexpectedly and caught you off guard due to being lost in his praise, so you accidentally pressed against him trying to pull away for a moment to catch your breath, but he yanked your head back causing you to whimper. Namjoon then had one hand tangled in your curls and the other tightly wrapped around your neck to harshly grit in your ear, "Did I say you could touch me pet?"

"I-I'm sorry-" You attempted to apologize before he rudely cut you off, "No Sir, I didn't ask." He looked to you to repeat his words the best you could under his grip, he released his hold on your throat to go back to the satin material in his pocket, "I was trying to be nice, but you're testing my patience Pet." He took your hands and shoved them behind your back, twisting them in an uncomfortable position before tying an intricate knot binding them together, "It seems as though the time you've spent without my cock has made you grow to be an incorrigible slut. Maybe that couple will understand if I fuck you open right here and now."

"Please Sir no, I'm sorry! I really am!!" You quietly sobbed, tears now falling down your face but he just laughed, "Crying isn't gonna make me lessen your punishment pet." He hooked his hand under your arm to yank you up and spin you towards the screen, "You can have cock pet, is that not what you wanted?"

"S-sir, that couple will see…" You sniffled but he harshly pulled you back onto his lap making you gasp loudly when you felt his hard and wet length on your ass. The older woman laughed at the front and you blanched, you wondered if she saw and caught on to what you and Namjoon were doing. You scrambled, but forgot that your arms were bound behind you with the blindfold and she spoke up since it was only you two and them there, "I know! I thought she was dead too!!"

Namjoon laughed, and your nerves were shot to hell: your makeup was smudged and runny, your hair looked as if you slept in for three months, and your clothes were a crinkled mess; the way you left this afternoon is drastically different from how Namjoon has you looking currently. "You can't keep quiet, and it seems like you enjoy fucking up right after I give you such praise for being good. As if you are still trying to be that bratty girl I met two years ago. Such a shame."

You could do nothing more but sob more and throat too strained to let out anything but intelligible phrases, "B-but, I sai-said I was sorry."

"And how many times should I forgive you for being the brattiest bitch I've ever met in my life? I let you slide too many times pet but don't worry, I'm sure that you can make cum still." He coldly stated and pulled your mouth open again to take your ruined panties from earlier to shove them back into your mouth, "Fuck. Seeing you like this is my favorite, but I need you to keep an eye out for the lovely couple down there pet."

He felt you try to turn your head in his hand, but he chuckled again, "No pet. You can ride my cock and make sure they aren't looking, that old man might have been rude, but he might have fun staring at your breasts again." You kept trying to break from his grip to beg him to just wait for your punishment, but he was stronger than you and used his free hand to slide his length into as the hand on your chin tightly covered your mouth to further mask the violent moan/sob falling from your lips.

Once he felt that you adjusted to him inside you, he removed the hand from your mouth to pull your bra down and fully expose you, "Fuck. You like being stripped and fucked in front of people pet?" You nodded your head side to side vehemently but he placed his hand around your neck to pull you into the crook of his neck, "Why are you still lying? Your cunt is getting wetter, do you like being fucked wide open or not?"

You couldn't speak, so you looked over to him and sheepishly nodded up and down. He smiled from what you observe and added, "See, that's my girl, do you see how good it is to be honest with Sir? Things can always go well if you can just obey me. Do you want to move on my cock?"

You nodded and made an animal like sound signaling that you were ready to behave for Namjoon, "Hm, good girl."

He released the grip on your neck to allow you to find an angle so that you could situate your feet and bounce on him properly, once you slid up and back down on him, your bodily noises were carelessly leaving your lips. Namjoon hissed and gripped your hip tight, "Fuck baby, keep doing that, and I'll fill you up soon."

Once you heard that, a fire lit inside you and you tried your best to ride him as well as hit your g-spot so that you both could fall over the edge, your breast bounced as Namjoon roughly massaged the other in his free hand, "God, you are the best pet. Your pussy is molded to fit my cock perfectly, Sir is fuck you so well for the next few days, just you wait."

You loudly moaned, not caring about the movie or the older couple at the bottom the of the theater, they could go to hell for all you cared. Your muffled sobs came back in a brutal onslaught as Namjoon slowed you down and stopped, "I know you're close. Do you want to cum?"

You leaned back into him & yelled through the fabric in your mouth, "Yeth, pleabe!!" Namjoon probably smirked and pet your hair before revealing, "Okay, only if you can make some noise" and with that he pulled your panties from your mouth and slammed you back down on him. "Ah, sir please no!" You whispered, but he acted as if he couldn’t hear you and slowly lifted your hips, letting his dick slip from you, "I can play all night pet, but you have an option: do this and cum or disobey me and I won't touch you for two months."

Tears pooled at your eyes and if your arms weren't bound so tightly, you would have screamed and slapped at his chest, "That's not fair sir! I've done everything I'm supposed to, I want to cum!" Without missing a beat at your tantrum, Namjoon simply stated, "Then show that man down there that this is how you enjoy a movie."

He quickly slipped backed into you before your brain could register what was happening, "Uh, fuck. Sir, please." You kept whimpering and begging, but he wouldn't budge, "Nope. I can cum right now, but I want you to cum as well." He lifted you up and pulled you down forcefully, making you choke up, "Sir…"

Namjoon did for what seemed like forever, your eyes were screwed shut and your face was a mess of tears, makeup, pre-cum, and his spit, "C'mon pet, this must be killing you, almost getting there and being a bitch is taking that delicious orgasm from you. I'm dangling the carrot, just bite it baby."

Your legs were burning, and your body acted as if it only kept up this long due to how close Namjoon brought you to the edge before plucking you away from the cliff, "Okay Sir." Namjoon's posture stiffened, making you fall backward as your pleasure surged through you strongly, "Please let me cum Sir, fuck those old people, I bet they've done crazy stuff too."

Namjoon smiled and sat you up before fucking into you roughly making your mouth stream curses and coax breathy whimpers from you, "Princess?"

"Yes, Sir?" You happily responded at the cute name, “May I cum now?"

He drummed your thigh and whispered into your ear, "Open your eyes and then when I say to cum, cum." You peeled your eyes open, the stark contrast of the bright screen from your squeezing them shut trying to hold in your orgasm, your eyes looked all over the place until your eyes looked, "N-nam-Sir! That man is… he's staring at us!"

Namjoon laughed and placed his hand between your legs to massage your clit, "I know. He's been watching you for a while, now cum." Like clockwork, your mouth let out a strangled gasp, and continued to cry as your orgasm ripped through you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, you're so tight. I'm gonna cum pet, do you want Sir to fill you up with cum?"

"Yes sir, please!!" He obliged and stilled underneath you to pump you full of cum, "Fuck, I hope it doesn't drip out your cunt. I really haven't fucked you in a while." You two were too blissed out to notice that the older male at the base of the theater had his mouth hung open and a hand over what you assumed was his crotch to alleviate the arousal you two brought him.

As the last scene played and credits began to roll, you attempted to stand, but you wobbled and sat back down. Once he undid the makeshift ties on your wrists, you tied it in a way that it made your hair look less mussed, Namjoon laughed, then went to grab a few wet wipes from your purse to make it look like the movie made you cry and not like you just got fucked at a theater in front of a stranger, "Namjoon I look too fucked up. No one will believe the movie did this to me."

He ignored you and touched up a few more spots on your face before collecting your soiled panties and wrinkled top so you could at least walk out with only one less item of clothing on, "Nah, you look good. I bet that old man is going to have a great night now." You blushed and went to smack his bicep, "Shut up!! I'm never talking about this again, where was his wife!? She like disappeared for ten minutes… Oh God, we can never come here again! They're gonna think we're sex freaks!"

"I mean, that is accurate for people that fuck in a movie theater don't you think." Namjoon had such a vastly different duality, you wondered why you were as cool as he was, "…Well, yeah. But let's just go! I don't want to see his face, I'm just gonna duck out."

When you two walked out of the theater, you saw the woman minus her better half (gladly), "Oh, you two! Hi, how did you like the movie, dear did it make you cry?"

You choked up and Namjoon spoke up for you, "Aha, yes. My girl is a crier, I'm just glad she wasn't too loud for you." The older woman just smiled and carried on with the conversation like she really heard nothing and Namjoon's veiled statement made you blush, "Oh, darling! There is no need to be shy, I thought I heard a few sobs, but then these moans came out of nowhere… I swear that movie was not supposed to have a sex scene! These movies nowadays are so filthy."

You moved entirely behind Namjoon to hide your face and meekly spoke from behind him, "I-I know, we thought it was PG-13, but who knows…" Your boyfriend finding the humor in all, placed you back in front of him to put both arms around you as the two of you faced this woman, "Well, um, Ms. Hyesun was it?"

"Oh, yes son, Song Hyesun! I guess we should introduce each other, you two are Namjoon and ____ right?" She perked up and you both nodded. "So Ms. Song where did your lovely husband go? We noticed that you weren't in there for the last ten or so minutes?" Namjoon slyly asked, obviously not drawing attention to himself as he was just a nice, young man asking a simple question, but your insides were doing backflips.

"Hmm, well when I heard the first moan, I walked right out and tried to find an usher, but I believe that young man thought I was senile and told me that entire room was rented out. Can you believe the audacity of him to tell me that there were no sex scenes in that movie and I must have went to the wrong room? I know what I heard in theater six, some of these youths…" She explained and inwardly you sighed and thought, "Thank you Jackson for being the world's worst cinema attendant."

Namjoon continued to indulge her, coyly enjoying that she tried to make a fuss of you two with no support, "So I'm guessing your husband is giving that attendant a stern chat?" Hyesun laughed and rubbed his arm for an uncomfortably long time, just long enough to make you think these people were the real sex freaks and try to find adults in their mid-20's to have sex or something. "Ahem, yes mam. My boyfriend and I were wondering that as well. I hope he isn't too harsh on the poor boy." You voiced, emphasizing that you and Namjoon were together, making the cougar retract her claws from your oblivious boyfriend.

"Well, yes." She curtly added, moving to put her arms crossed over her chest as if annoyed with you before continuing, "He told me to leave and find the attendant, but then he stepped out and called me to get him this special popcorn, so I must have missed the ending. It's okay, he'll fill me in I'm sure." You turned to look at Namjoon and he just smirked, "Oh, Ms. Song, there he is now!"

The older man walked over looking directly at the floor and his wife in no way casual, "Oh no, sweetie! What happened to your pants? Don't tell me that the attendant got nasty with you."

He cleared his throat and mumbled something, but you were curious as to what she meant, and your wandering eye caught up with what Hyesun was talking about. He had a faint, but very noticeable spot on his pants, right where his di-, "Oh so, your wife tells us you enjoyed the movie. But If I had known there would have been a sex scene, I would have suggested you visit another film." Namjoon smugly added and Ms. Song crooned, but her husband just muttered again, leaving Namjoon to cockily keep pushing, "You know, I'm sorry for the crude talk Ms. Song, but the scene was just beautiful. The cinematography of the young woman fighting submission so passionately really spoke to her character. Although, in the end her needs were in the hands of this man that enjoys control, and the way she played into the roles so well definitely deserves some credit. Her rewards for that performance must be something great, I can believe that."

You were blushing again and your lips were fastened between your teeth trying not to beam in a way that would give away the truth behind that statement that you did a good job and he was proud of you, "Yes. The scene was probably difficult for the actress, but she held her own. It was a little fuss when that guy was secretly watching them though, what a shame…" It was your turn to have fun, the older man's face reddened more and his wife listened, fascinated in what you had to say, "Oh my! Someone was watching them in such an intimate embrace? How did that go over for you two? I know my husband was on the phone with me, so he must not have seen it, but we're older, how would you two feel if that was really you?"

"Oh, it would be so creepy and gross, who wants an old pervert watching them?" You aired, making the man look back to the ground but Namjoon, always the contrarian, prodded further, "Yeah, it would be a bit unnerving to see someone quietly getting off on lovemaking, but they were in public baby, how did they not expect for someone to watch? I bet they got their rocks off seeing her break down her strong role to that of a submissive pet. I guess it shows that strong, female leads still want to have fun and play the game. She was bored being the leader all the time and having someone watching her display this hidden side of her aroused her more and you could really tell; it's like she wasn't acting and needed that in her life."

The woman was just delighted at his words and finally spoke, "Wow, what a great concept when you two reason it like that. I guess I was wrong about the movie and I should go apologize to the attendant, maybe even give him a tip. I am turning into a bitter, old lady after all." Her husband quickly reassured her, "No! I mean, my love, it's alright. They described it well enough, we won't have to see it again! It was nice meeting you two, have a lovely rest of your night."

You fanned the flames one last time as they were walking away, "Bye sir! I hope you and your wife have an interesting evening as well!" Namjoon held you tighter, laughed loudly, and then kissed you on your forehead, "You are perfect. I love you, Princess."

"Yeah, yeah, I love you too. Now let's go before we're on the local news. My legs feel sticky…"

A/N: don’t ask for a part two or updates, lemme know what you think!