#but the 2nd i was like NOW HOLD ON A SECOND MISSY

[mishasminion360]

Request- Marcus M. returns home, battered, bloody, bruised and badly beaten up and his 2nd wife takes care of him. The next morning, Marcus wakes up after having a nightmare(Non-descriptive) of losing his 2nd wife, Missy and Missy's younger half sister and his 2nd wife comforts him.

🥺🥺🥺 It would be my pleasure to write something so angsty!

In Dreams

Marcus Moreno x fem!reader

Warnings: Allusions to violence; blood and injuries; nightmares and PTSD; angst; fluff; hurt/comfort.

Summary: After the Heroics finally defeat their most challenging longtime enemy, fears still linger for Marcus.

A/N: Thank you @lovelypastel2532 for the request! You know angst is my jam 🥺 And yes. I did steal the name of Missy’s little half sister from “Encanto”. Don’t judge me 😂

From time to time Marcus finds himself wondering what it would be like to have a normal job. The non-world saving kind. The kind where you sit in a little cubicle tippity tapping away at a keyboard all day, ponder who keeps stealing your yogurt from the break room fridge, and suffer through three hour meetings that could have just been an email.

He contemplated all that today while taking a few punches to the face from HQ’s uninvited guest. The biggest bad the team’s ever faced decided to pay a visit and things got a bit rough. More than a bit. The villain was subdued—hopefully for good this time—and Marcus is a little worse for wear now because of it. Still too young to retire, but also too old for this crap.

He practically drags himself through the front door this evening; bloody, bruised, and a little bit broken.

“Jesus, Marcus,” you say, already rushing to his side with the first aid kit. “At least tell me the other guy looks worse.”

You always manage to make him laugh, even when it hurts to do so.

“The girls aren’t around, are they? I don’t want Missy and Mirabel to see me like this.”

“The coast is clear, hot shot,” you tell him. “Now, let’s get you bandaged up like a mummy before they do decide to make their presence known.”

He gives you a quick peck on the lips before trudging through the kitchen.

“Shower first.”

***

The heat of the pounding water uncoils his tightly wound muscles. He scrubs carefully at each bleeding nick, cut, and scrape, trying to remove the evidence of the day’s events.

He grins when he hears the shower door glide open and closed and feels your gentle touch run along his shoulders.

“And just what can I do for you?”

You’re familiar with that sly tone.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” you snort. “I’m here to help you relax and nothing more.”

He moans in bliss as your hands knead the aching muscle in his back. The sensation of your skillful fingers massaging their way through his wet curls and across his scalp nearly brings tears to his eyes. He shudders at the warmth of your lips pressed to the taught skin between his shoulder blades.

Marcus shuts the water off and turns to you with gratitude on his tongue, but you silence him with a finger to his lips.

“You can thank me later,” you wink, slipping out of the shower to grab towels.

“Oh, now whose mind is in the gutter?”

***

He eats dinner like a man starved. He helps Missy with her math homework. He reads a bedtime story to Mira before tucking her in for the night. Then he all but collapses into bed beside you.

Sleep takes a hold of Marcus quickly, securing him firmly in its clutches. The darkness behind his closed eyelids all but consumes him, and he surrenders willingly.

***

You’re not certain which wakes you up first: the heat, the movement, the noise or the pain. Your eyes fly open in the dark as you find your senses overwhelmed all at once.

The heat is from Marcus’s proximity. He’s wrapped his body around yours, clinging tightly like Saran Wrap or a second skin. The motions shaking the bed are the product of his violent trembling.

The pain is from the iron clad grip he has on you. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hip with bruising force; his nails bite into the skin of your back.

And the noises, the pitiful, vaguely animalistic whines are the heartbreaking sounds of a man held captive by a horrific nightmare.

“Marcus?”

“….back….”

“Marcus, honey.”

“Give them….back….”

“Marcus, wake up.”

“You give them back to me!!”

“Marcus!”

His eyes snap open and his desperate cries dissolve into breathless pants. He unwinds himself from around you as he tries to make sense of what’s just transpired.

You grip cup his face and try to get him to focus on you, to acknowledge your presence.

“Talk to me, baby. Marcus, are you okay?”

He looks at you as if you are the dream.

“Your here?”

“Yes, Marcus. Right here.”

“W-where are the girls?”

He leaps out of bed and nearly stumbles trying to get to the bedroom door. You almost take a spill yourself chasing him.

“Where are they? Where are Missy and Mirabel? Where are my babies?!

“Marcus, shh! They’re fine. They’re in their beds fast asleep.”

“No, no! They’re—“

“They. Are. Fine.”

He sags against the wall in the hallway having been only seconds away from waking his sleeping daughters. He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes and takes a few deep, calming breaths.

“Marcus, you were having a nightmare,” you assure him. “What did you see in that head of yours?”

He slides all the way to the floor and you follow him down.

“I thought he took you,” Marcus recalls.

“Who, honey?”

“The guy we….we locked up today. I dreamt that he broke free and he took you and the girls.”

His voice starts to shake.

“I couldn’t find you anywhere. He took you somewhere far away and I couldn’t—“

Your hands fly to his cheeks and your lips crash into his. You feel his breaths against your mouth as they begin to steady.

“I’m right here,” you guarantee. “All of us are here with you. Because of you. Because you fought so hard to keep us all safe. And you won.”

You settle yourself against the wall beside him and pull his head gently down to rest atop your chest, and you run soothing fingers through his hair as you feel his body relax in your arms once again.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” he mumbles. “Let’s get you back to bed, sweetheart.”

You simply shush him and don’t move an inch.

“Just stay put, Marcus. Let someone protect you for a change.”

@grimeylady @rav3n-pascal22 @mamacitapascal @insomniamama1 @pedrosbisch @emmaispunk @mandolydian @lv7867 @reonlouw @hawaiianmelodies @pascalsky @pascalpanic @heythere-mel @healingstardust @pastel-0-princess @pedropascal207-deactivated20211 @delorena @pedropasxal @caesaryoulater @just-fics-i-read @kiizhikehn-cedar @hellovanessax @fangirling-alert @pedrocentric @fromthedeskoftheraven @feralhotmess @axshadows @mandapascal @dragon-scales88 @spacepastel-blog @anaaaispunk @spideysimpossiblegirl @pbeatriz-blog @hauntedmama @mswarriorbabe80 @horton-hears-a-honk @alberta-sunrise @wild-at-heart-kept-in-cage @a-trial-run-on-paper @oonajaeadira @foli-vora @dhadiirah @felicisimor @practicalghost @luz-introvertida @amneris21 @hb8301 @tanzthompson @bison-writes

[patchwork-panda]

“I won’t tell a soul” (BSD Nakahara Chuuya x Reader #3. Complete!)

“Title: “I won’t tell anybody”/“誰にも言わない”  Genre: Romance Rating: PG-13 for alcohol usage and mild violence/language and a kiss scene. /////>w<;; Reader-insert is written as femme and 20+ Plot: You meet Chuuya at a wine bar and over time, you become close. Your regular meetings become something you both enjoy so when Chuuya stops visiting for several weeks, you begin to worry... When you meet again, you learn the truth... But do you care? Mini Fic is written in 2nd person. title is reference to new Utada Hikaru single                 

CW: street harassment, physical violence

AKA Chuuya saves reader and you get a kiss/get together :3

AO3 link for full fic: HERE

Part 1 Here Part 2 Here                                        

It’s well past last call when you leave. 

You ended up staying until past closing and, perhaps out of a feeling of guilt, the mustachioed bartender decided not to kick you out.

Because his “feeling” had been wrong.

Chuuya hadn’t come.

The bartender had offered to call you a cab but you adamantly refused. You wanted a nice long walk in the cool night air, which would hopefully clear your senses a little. You don’t want to go to bed tonight thinking about Chuuya or you might just wake up crying.

Because this was the last night.

No more.

You needed to move on.

As you leave the bar, you see a group of men, a bunch of hoodlums by the look of it, gathered near the alleyway to your far right. One or two of them give you an appraising look (you wish your skirt were longer but you make no move to tug it down) and to your disgust, another whispers something into the ear of yet another of their companions, who suddenly leers at you.

Ugh.

You keep your eyes trained on the road ahead of you as you walk past them, hoping to get away with nothing more than a wolf whistle but alas, it is not to be. One of them, a man with a scar over his eye, calls out to you.

“Hey, hey you! Lady!”

You roll your eyes and ignore him. You hated running into creeps like this in the daytime as it was. Nighttime is so much worse.

Not to be deterred, he runs after you and stops and slows once he’s caught up.

“Haven’t we seen you before?” he asks, looking you up and down. You suddenly regret wearing heels. You don’t answer but he acts as if you have.

“Yeah, I remember you. You’re here at that bar every Friday, aren’t you? Always sitting there at the counter with that short fellow, the one with the fancy hat and the jacket draped over his shoulders. Chuuya-san, you called him, right?”

You keep walking and scowl when Chuuya’s name crosses his lips. Scum like this shouldn’t have the right to talk about Chuuya like that, much less exist in the same world as him. And how dare this man call Chuuya short when he wasn’t more than a few centimeters taller than either of you.

“Hey, Missy.”

He grabs your shoulder. His tone is suddenly menacing.

“I’m talking to you here.”

“Let go of me!” you snap, tearing your shoulder away.

You turn to walk in the opposite direction but his companions are blocking the way back. In fact, they’re blocking every possible escape route you have. You spin around in a circle, only to come face to face with the man who insists on speaking with you. He smiles and you curse.

“Shit...”

He raises his scarred eyebrow. He looks amused.

“There’s no need for language like that, Missy,” he says, his tone every bit as patronizing as it is threatening. “We just want to talk to you. You see, we’re looking for ‘Chuuya-san.’ Been looking for him, in fact, for a long, long time now and we’re hoping that you can maybe help us find him. You see, we owe him a favor...”

“Well, you’re talking to the wrong person,” you spit acidly, “I haven’t seen him for several months now and even if I wanted to help you find him--which I don’t--”

You voice cracks and you swallow heavily. You hate that you’ve become so upset but that’s what the mere mention of Chuuya’s name did to you tonight. You were really hoping the bartender was right and you were absolutely crushed when he wasn’t.

“I don’t even have his phone number.”

You throw your hands up into the air, as if to indicate that you’d given up. 

“So why don’t you just let me go home and we’ll forget that this whole conversation ever happened?”

The man looks at you. Stunned. Then he starts laughing.

As one, his crew starts laughing at you as well and you feel your cheeks flush in sudden rage and embarrassment.

“Look at that, she just ordered me around, didn’t she?” the man chortles, turning to his companions as if he’d just told a very funny joke. “A real spitfire, aren’t you? And a looker to boot! No wonder he spends so much time with you.”

He snaps his fingers and at once, two of his men come forward and seize you by the arms. You try to fight them off but their arms are twice as thick as yours and you’re still a little tipsy from the wine.

“Why don’t you come with us, little Missy? We’d like to have a chat with you.”

“Hey!” you snap, “Get your hands off me!”

“See, your friend, Chuuya-san,” the man says, a note of humor sneaking into his voice as he copies the way you say Chuuya’s name. “He and that pesky Port Mafia he works for... have been making things difficult for us smaller gangs in Yokohama.”

His eyes narrow.

“Unnecessarily so.”

They start dragging you away. Your efforts to fight back seem meaningless. Panic rises in your throat. You should’ve taken the bartender’s offer of hailing a cab.

“Hey! Hey!!”

You struggle and fight harder but it’s no use.

“And our boss gets the feeling they’re going to be a lot more willing to negotiate with us,” the man continues, following you as you’re pulled backwards by the arms. “If we have a proper bargaining chip.”

His lip curls into that disgusting leer.

“Especially that midget. Can’t wait to see his face after he sees you missing a few fingers.”

You stiffen. Your eyes narrow.

“You asshole...” you growl.

You shoot him a piercing glare.

How dare he talk about Chuuya--your Chuuya--like that. 

“Keep Chuuya’s name out of your fucking mouth,” you spit, “you piece of shit--”

He silences you with a slap across the face and you stumble. The men behind you keep holding you up. Your cheek stings.

“Stupid bitch.”

He laughs and the men laugh with him.

“We’ll see how brave you are after we cut you up.”

As you continue to struggle, they drag you into the alley.

Tears of helpless rage fill your eyes. This was stupid. You were stupid. You should’ve just stayed away like your coworker said.

Now these assholes were going to take you away, do who-knew-what to you, and because of your own foolishness, you would never get to see Chuuya again.

You bite your lip.

Chuuya...

You’re trying not to cry.

Help me...

Just then, a harsh voice cuts through the night. It’s quiet but it rings with authority.

And barely suppressed rage.

“Let go of her.”

You stop struggling immediately. You’d know that voice anywhere.

As one, you and the men gripping you by the arms turn to look down the alleyway, where you see a lone figure standing there at the very end of the street. He is a black shape outlined against the backdrop of the downtown streets, his dark clothes bathed in the harsh blue and red glow of signs made of neon lights. His face is in shadow, but...

The lone figure wears a fancy black hat and a jacket draped over both shoulders.

Chuuya.

“Chuuya-san...!”

Your breath hitches in your throat.

You want to say more. You want to call out to him, loud enough for him to actually hear but for some reason you cannot. Something’s wrong with him tonight. His very presence is unnerving and without knowing why, you begin to tremble.

“Well, look who’s here,” the man with the scar crows.

He takes a knife out of his pocket.

“Nakahara Chuuya. We’ve been looking for you. Come with us. Our boss needs to have a little talk with you. And if you don’t...”

He holds the knife at your throat. You hold your breath as it presses against your flesh.

“The Missy here gets it.”

Chuuya steps forward and out of the shadows and at once, you know why you’re suddenly afraid. You feel the men holding your arms falter.

There’s an odd red glow around Chuuya, around his entire outline. As he steps forward, his long black jacket begins to lift off his shoulders in an unseen wind, billowing around him like a cape. You think you hear something like a dull roar echoing throughout the alleyway and when Chuuya looks up, his gaze is fierce. His eyes burn like twin blue flames in the night.

This isn’t the same Chuuya who’d flirted with you at the bar.

This man is something else.

He continues towards you.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Chuuya snarls, his teeth bared.

When his foot hits the pavement, it cracks underfoot. Rubble rises into the air all around him, glowing red like the aura around Chuuya’s body.

“Get.”

Another step forward. The pavement breaks yet again. It’s as if Chuuya’s weight has increased threefold when he took that second step towards you.

“Your.”

The roaring sound grows louder. More rubble rises into the air.

“Filthy.”

Chuuya’s footsteps grow heavier. He’s now leaving craters in his wake. You don’t understand how it’s happening but the rubble is now orbiting around his body like the rings of a planet.

“Hands.”

The men loosen their hold on you but they haven’t let go. Chuuya sees this and his eyes seem to glow more fiercely in the dark. He looks utterly terrifying.

“Off.”

Chuuya grabs a handful of the rubble around him and draws his hand back. He steps into a pool of dim red light and his body looks like it’s bathed in blood.

“My woman.”

He takes out a stone, flips it into the air like a coin and flicks it with his thumb.

You don’t even see it move.

There’s just a brief whistling sound and a crack.

The arm of the scarred man--the arm holding a knife to your throat--explodes in a shower of blood. Some of it splatters the front of your dress. You’re so shocked, you don’t even scream.

The man next to you, however, does.

He lets out a howl of pain, clutching his ruined arm and dropping to the his knees, his knife clattering uselessly to the ground in front of you. He’s crying and screaming about his arm, blood gushing from the stump of his elbow and into the street. The puddle inches towards your shoes.

The men holding you drop your arms and tear off into the night--the entire crew goes running back towards the street, leaving you in the middle of the alleyway between them and Chuuya.

Chuuya’s bright blue eyes narrow and he repeats his earlier movement, flicking several more stones towards the men in the alleyway with deadly precision. One by one, the men drop to the ground, their screams cut short. The last one is quicker on his feet than his companions and is just about to round the corner when Chuuya crouches down and leaps into the air.

You watch in awe, turning to follow his movements as he soars over you, gracefully arcing through the sky, his body suddenly as light as a feather. The stones follow him, continuing to orbit around him in a ring like a miniature belt of asteroids. With one flick of his wrist, several rocket towards the man who’s almost made it into the street. You turn your face away as you hear the dull, wet squelching of the stones tearing through his body, splattering his organs on the nearby buildings and sidewalk.

The man next to you is still crying and clutching his arm. He rushes past you, desperate to escape.

You can’t see Chuuya, but you know where he is.

You start towards his location but within moments, he’s in the sky again. You whirl around to see him several paces behind you, standing before the man whose arm he destroyed.

He grabs the man by the throat and slams him against the wall. Cracks appear in the drywall behind his body. Miraculously, he doesn’t pass out.

“You tell your boss,” Chuuya hisses, his tone low and menacing, “that if you try this shit again, I’ll send what’s left of his cronies back to him in a fucking bento box.”

He slams the man against the wall again.

“If you’ve got business with me or with the Port Mafia, then it stays with us. You got that?”

The man nods, tears streaming down his face.

Chuuya lets go of him at last and he crumples to the ground in a heap.

Scowling, Chuuya turns to you at last, the glow in his blue eyes suddenly fading as the red-tinted aura around him dissipates. Behind him, the scarred man scrambles to his feet and scampers off into the night.

“Chuuya--” you start but he is in no mood to let you finish.

“You,” Chuuya growls, stalking forward. “What were you doing out here so late at night? Are you an idiot? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

You’re stunned. After all this time, he’s angry?

“I came looking for you,” you protest, equally bewildered and hurt by the sheer anger in his voice. “I haven’t seen you in so long and--and you never gave me a single way to find you--Chuuya, I--”

“Why would you do that?!” he roars, slamming his fist against the wall.

No crater appears, but the drywall cracks.

Chuuya grits his teeth. He seems to have difficulty looking at you. He drops his gaze and the brim of his hat falls over his eyes, obscuring his face. Bits of drywall crumble down around his gloved hand. His fist is shaking.

“Why would you try to find me?” he asks, his voice hushed.

He’s asking you this? Why is he asking you this?

“Because...”

Your hands clench into fists when Chuuya does not not look up.

Fuck.

You bite your lip, hard, so that you don’t cry.

After all this time, he won’t even look at you? After everything you’ve been through? After all this??

“You really don’t get it?” you ask quietly, holding back those hot, bitter tears.

Chuuya doesn’t answer. Still doesn’t look up.

Why won’t he look at you?

It makes you angry. Angrier than you’ve been in years. You want to scream.

“You want to know why I came looking for you?” you ask bitterly.

Chuuya inclines his head slightly, which you take to be a nod. Pissed, you take a step towards him.

“It’s because I missed you, you fucking dumbass!”

Chuuya twitches violently.

He looks up, a mixture of shock and wonder clearly visible in the depths of his deep blue eyes. He looks mesmerized by you.

He’s not moving so you take another step towards him, suddenly feeling like you’re approaching a skittish alley cat. You hold out your hands when you speak.

“Don’t you understand, Chuuya-san? I wanted to see you. I wanted to see you so bad.”

You don’t care that he just maimed or even killed several people in front of you, that he has power beyond imagining and could turn his Gift on you if he so wished. He killed those men to save you.

To you, he was still Chuuya-san.

He was your Chuuya.

“I came looking for you... because you never even said goodbye. I didn’t have your phone number, or address. I don’t even know where you work or what your last name is. Chuuya, I had no way of contacting you.”

“That was the whole point,” Chuuya interrupts but you talk over him.

“So when I heard you might be here tonight,” you say, loud enough that he has to stop talking. “I had to come. I had to, you understand?”

Chuuya falls silent. His expression is contemplative, with an undercurrent of pain. His deep blue eyes are fully focused on you.

It was the same face he made the night he left the bar all those months ago.

“Chuuya-san...”

You swallow, ready to ask the question you’re afraid to hear the answer to.

“Didn’t you want to see me, too?”

But Chuuya doesn’t answer. Hot pinpricks sting your eyes. Shit. You’re going to cry.

“I see,” you say stiffly.

You gather your jacket more tightly about your body, preparing to leave.

“Sorry to have bothered you.”

You’re about to turn around and go when you see Chuuya’s fist tightening. With a start, you see his jaw tensing up. He’s gritting his teeth too. But he still doesn’t speak. You sigh.

“Goodbye,” you whisper. “Chuuya--”

“Wait.”

Chuuya rushes forward and before you can finish speaking, he’s gathered you in his arms in a fierce hug. His grip on you is so tight that you can hardly breathe.

“I did,” he whispers.

His voice is so small you can barely hear it.

“I wanted to see you too.”

“Chuuya-san...”

“The barkeep told me everything,” he growls. “He told me that you’ve been coming here almost every Friday night at our usual time. That you’ve been looking for me.”

He rests his chin on your shoulder and you reach up to comfort him. You gently pat his back.

“And waiting.”

“Chuuya-san.”

You swallow thickly.

“Tell me the truth. Why didn’t you want me looking for you? Are you...?”

You feel his arms around you tensing. He knows what you’re about to ask.

“Are you really with the Port Mafia?”

For a long, heavy moment, Chuuya doesn’t answer. But when he does, his voice sounds slightly hoarse.

“I am.”

As he speaks, you can feel his grip around you tightening, his arms wrapping more securely around your shoulders and waist, as if letting go of you would mean letting go of you for good.

“Chuuya-san...” 

Your fingers slowly curl into fists against his chest and the expensive fabric of his jacket wrinkles beneath your touch.

“My full name is Nakahara Chuuya,” he whispers against your hair. “And I’m not just any member of the Port Mafia. I’m one of the executives.”

Involuntarily, you stiffen and the instant he feels your fingers twitch against his chest, Chuuya groans.

“I knew this would happen. I knew it would. Fuck.”

His arms loosen and unfold from around you. He’s pulling away.

But before he can, you reach out.

“Wait, Chuuya! Don’t go!”

You grab fistfuls of his jacket and pull on it to stop him from leaving. You bury your face in his shoulder and he stops short. You feel his sharp intake of breath.

“Please,” you whisper. “Don’t leave again.”

“H-hey...”

Chuuya’s voice is flustered and unsteady. But he doesn’t move away.

“I kept thinking about it, you know...” you mumble, closing your eyes as you feel Chuuya’s black-gloved hand smoothing down your hair.

“About the way you look when you’re sitting there at the bar with me. The way you laugh when we talk. The way you look at me when we’re together. You were wonderful. Chuuya-san... You’re not a bad person, I know you’re not.”

“But I’m not a good guy,” Chuuya insists.

He drops his hand. Now he’s just standing there as you continue to cling to him. You lift your head and look right into his eyes, which widen in sudden surprise.

“I don’t care whether Chuuya-san is a good guy or a bad guy!” you exclaim. “All I know is... I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as your smile.”

Chuuya stiffens. You can barely feel him breathing.

“You...” he starts, and the emotion in his voice is enough to bring tears to your eyes. “You really think that?”

You nod vigorously.

“Yes. Yes, I do. I think about you all the time... Chuuya.”

I care about you...

He wraps his arms around you and, wordlessly, you do the same. For a moment, you just stand there together, locked in a silent embrace in the middle of this dark, bloodstained alleyway. You nestle your face against the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like the subtle musk and spice of an expensive cologne, like roses and gun smoke and something more, something uniquely Chuuya...

Finally he speaks.

“I can’t leave the Port Mafia, you know,” he says in an undertone, his fingers stroking through your hair.

“I know.”

In response, you hold him tighter. There’s a subtle wrenching in your gut, but you won’t let go.

“I’m not asking you to. It’s fine.”

“This isn’t going to be the last time this happens,” Chuuya protests, “You could get hurt.”

“I said it’s okay,” you insist. “Just...”

You swallow with some difficulty. You know what you’re asking and you know how selfish it is... but you can’t let go of him.

“Just let me stay by your side.”

You press yourself further into him. His body is warm, still humming with some kind of energy, but beneath that well-fitted vest, you can feel his heart beating against yours.

“Please.”

Time passes. You stay like this for what feels like hours but you aren’t willing to let go. Neither, it seems, is Chuuya. Finally, he sighs.

“I knew you were special from the moment I laid eyes on you,” he says, a hint of a chuckle in his voice. You can feel the low rumble of his silent laughter travel through his compact frame and despite your worry, you feel better.

“I just didn’t realize,” Chuuya murmurs, “that ‘special’ meant ‘crazy.’“

“If I’m crazy,” you laugh, “then it’s only because I’ve gone crazy for you.”

The words are out of your mouth before you even realize what you’ve said and upon hearing you, Chuuya lets out a bark of a laugh.

“You,” he cackles, “you really are something, you know that?”

His laughter fading, Chuuya loosens his hold on you. He lets you pull back just enough so that he can see your face but not enough that you can move out of his arms--not that you want to. Even in the dim lighting in this dingy alleyway, Chuuya looks so beautiful up close. His deep blue eyes gleam brightly as they stare into yours and without thinking about it, you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips.

And then Chuuya smiles. Really smiles.

His grin is toothy and somewhat lopsided with obvious delight, and yet, his expression still doesn’t lose any of that cool, self-assured energy you’ve come to associate with Chuuya and only Chuuya.

You smile back. Your body grows warm.

Yes. This is the smile you wanted to see. The smile you’d missed so much for the last few months that it nearly killed you to think that you might not see it again. But right now, Chuuya’s smile is different. Good different.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him looking quite so happy before.

“Chuuya...”

Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around his shoulders as one of his hands slides down to your waist. Chuuya places two black-gloved fingers beneath your chin and tilts your face towards his.

“Makes sense that you would be something special,” he whispers, his breath warm against your lips. “You are mine, after all.”

You close your eyes and the distance between you disappears. Chuuya’s lips are soft and sweet as they move against yours and you feel your breath hitch in your throat as his tongue ghosts over your upper lip. He feels so good and you cling to him as he deepens the kiss, pressing your body to his so tightly, you half wonder if you might be crushed by his strength.

But you like it.

You like the feel of his arms around your body, the way he grips you so tightly that his fingers dimple your flesh, the way he tastes--no wine could ever be as intoxicating as the man called Nakahara Chuuya...

When you come up for air at last, you’re both breathless.

”Wow,” Chuuya breathes, sounding just as dazed as you feel, “You’re... You’re a really good kisser...”

“So are you,” is all you manage to gasp before he dives back in for more.

As the moon rises high in the sky above you, you part at last, flushed and giddy and dizzy with joy. Chuuya takes your hand and leads you out of the alleyway, back to the bar you thought was closed.

He raps on the door with one black-gloved hand, the other tightly gripping yours, and turns back to shoot you that signature cocky grin when that same mustachioed bartender opens the door at last.

“I think it’s time we call you that cab,” Chuuya laughs as he pulls you inside the warmth of the empty room. “But I’ll meet you here again tomorrow, okay? Same time as usual.”

You nod. You’re smiling so hard it almost hurts but you’re just so happy...!

“It’s a date,” you say, to which Chuuya’s grin grows only wider. “So don’t go blowing me off this time.”

Laughing, he tugs you back towards him and presses another kiss to your lips, his grin returning as soon as he pulls away. His blue eyes shine like a bright, cloudless sky.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers, holding you close. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[chrisswearicho]

My AO3 account BTW guys and links to my stories! They're all Doctor Who fics.

1) My Past Come Home. My Future Lead The Way

Summary: “Right.” Rory finally seemed to react, shaking his head a little as his hands flailed for effect, “right sorry. So I’ve gone to sleep, got woken up by the TARDIS going crazy and now we’re in a future TARDIS with a future Doctor who’s also a woman? I’m getting this right?”

Characters:  13th Doctor, 11th Doctor, 12th Doctor, 10th Doctor, 9th Doctor, 8th Doctor, 7th Doctor, 6th Doctor, 5th Doctor, 4th Doctor, 3rd Doctor, 2nd Doctor, 1st Doctor, Yasmin Khan, Ryan Sinclair, Graham O'brien, Bill Potts, Nardole, River Song, Amy Pond, Rory Williams, Donna Noble, Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, Lucie Miller, Ace, Peri Brown, Tegan Jovanka, Vislor Turlough, Sarah Jane Smith, Jo Grant, Jamie McCrimmin, Zoe Heriot, Ian Chesterton, Barbara Wright, Susan Foreman, The Master(Dhawan), The Master (Gomez) /Missy.

Chapters: 26/26

2) A Change of Mind

Summary: “What would your little friends think if they knew?”

“Who cares?” she scoffed with a roll of her eyes, “dropped them off at home. Good riddance as far as I’m concerned. This is between me and you. They were the Doctor’s ‘little friends’, not mine.”

“Who’re you then? If you’re not the Doctor.”

“Dunno yet,” she shrugged, seemingly pleased, however, that he was finally accepting that she wasn’t quite the Doctor, “I haven’t decided. You know,” she huffed out a heavy breath, “you’re wasting so much good running away time by asking all these questions. Maybe by the time I’ve caught you, you know, if you run away right now, I’ll have decided. Come on.”

><><><><

An alternate ending to my story 'My Past Come Home. My Future Lead The Way'. This will probably not make much sense if you haven't read that first if i'm honest. It's the alt ending where 13 becomes the Valeyard!

Characters: 13th Doctor(Valeyard), The Master(Dhawan), Yasmin Khan, Ryan Sinclair & Graham O’Brien.

Chapters: 2/2

3) Fear

Summary: “You think that I was some hard done by hero, like the Doctor?” the Not Doctor’s tone was taunting as she smirked at him, “You think they wiped my memory because of something they’d done?” she laughed suddenly, throwing her head back as though that was the most hilarious thing she’d ever heard. The Master’s hearts dropped to his stomach; he’d already put this much together but having it confirmed made him swallow nervously.

“So… why was your mind wiped?”

“Well, they couldn’t kill me. There’s no limit on my ability to regenerate. They couldn’t keep me trapped. No prison could hold me. But then they figured out a way to stop me. Ingenious actually, I will give them that. They simply caught me long enough to erase me, or they thought they had.”

Characters: 13th Doctor (Valeyard), the Master (Dhawan), Yasmin Khan, Ryan Sinclair, Graham O’Brien, River Song.

Sequel to A Change of Mind

4) Escape

Summary: “I know you said eyebrows Bill, but that’s just ridiculous!” The Doctor in the bowtie smirked as they all came to a stop across from one another, glancing from his future self to Bill who just rolled her eyes with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

“They were making up for lost time. Better to have too much than none at all.” The Eyebrows Doctor deadpanned and raised an impressive eyebrow of his own to his past self.

“Ugh!” the Doctor in the bowtie jerked back in clear offence, hand flying to his own eyebrows for a moment as his face scrunched up in annoyance to his future self, words stumbling around in his mouth as he tried to come up with a retort. “Shut up,”

Characters: 13th Doctor, 12th Doctor, 11th Doctor, 10th Doctor, Rose Tyler, Amy Pond, Rory Williams, Bill Potts, Yasmin Khan, Ryan Sinclair & Graham O'brien.

Chapters: 14/14

Part 1 of a series that will continued next week anyway 😂

5) Search

Summary: “Time Lord society was, as I was taught, created by three people. Rassilon, the great engineer, The Omega, the mind behind Gallifrey’s scientific advancements and-” she cut herself off suddenly, realisation dawning on her face and her entire body seemed to jolt with the force of the realisation that occurred to her, “Oh!”

“Doctor? What is-” Yaz started but she was quickly cut off by the Doctor who flapped her hands at her desperately.

“Yaz! I love you but shut up a minute. Let me think.” The human obediently fell quiet and they all watched as the Doctor began to pace suddenly, her eyes still wide before she dropped onto the steps leading further into the TARDIS, the realisation giving away to shock as she mumbled out her next words, “I’m the Other.”

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

SEQUEL TO ESCAPE.

Now armed with the information that she knew Rassilon and Omega, back in the times of the Great Vampires, and even before, the Doctor knows what she must do. She needs to find Rassilon. She needs to find Omega. She needs to find out who she was and all it is that she forgot.

Characters: 13th Doctor, Yasmin Khan, Ryan Sinclair, Graham O’Brien, Rassilon, Omega.

Chapters: 10/?

6) This Is Where It Gets Complicated...

Summary: “Doctor!” He called out again, garnering a few looks from passers-by but he ignored them for now and began moving back the way they’d came, hoping to find either her or at least his grandson and Yaz if his initial search yielded no results, “Doctor?!”

“Oh hello! Hi? What is it?” Graham blinked, head turning at a male voice coming from his left and his frantic push through the crowds came to a stop as he looked at him, puzzled as to why he’d responded. The man was young looking, had dark hair that flopped over his face and looked as though he’d just stopped running his hands through it. He was dressed like someone three times his age in a tweed jacket and bowtie, but he pulled it off well enough, Graham supposed.

“Oh, sorry mate no. Not you, I’m looking for a friend of mine, they keep wandering off. The Doctor.” Graham didn’t stay still for longer than he needed to, waving the young man off as kindly as he could as he started walking again. He missed the slight grin that appeared on the guy’s face, but he definitely realised it when the man was suddenly at his side, helping him move through the crowds.

Characters: 13th Doctor, 11th Doctor, Yasmin Khan, Ryan Sinclair & Graham O'brien.

Chapters: 3/3 complete

7) Start Of Time

Summary:The Doctor falls from the TARDIS into Sheffield. But not in the 21st Century. Back in the 1970s where UNIT haven't been expecting their scientific adviser back after he regenerated and had his exile lifted. So who's this strange woman that's shown up talking about the TARDIS and searching for a Doctor?

An AU of The Woman Who Fell To Earth where the 13th Doctor gets tossed out in the 1970s and finds UNIT rather than her fam.

Characters: 13th Doctor, Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge Stewart, Mike Yates, John Benton.

Chapters: 4/?

8) The Chain

Summary: “Who am I?” he exclaimed indignantly, hands flying about everywhere as he spoke, his head turning to his two companions as if to look to them for back up in the indignation and then he spun back, “I’m the Doctor. So, who is it? Which one of you said that you were me?” They stared for another few seconds, all not knowing what to do before Graham reached out a hand and hit his fist twice against the large metal piping that ran up the side of the room and up through the ceiling above. It gave off loud metal clangs and he called upwards, his voice hesitant.

“Uh, Doc?” there was a thump and a curse from up above, the Doctor no doubt dropping something and her voice rang through, echoing through the metal chamber up above that she’d had to crawl into the look into the problem.

“What is it? I’m a bit busy.” The man in the bowtie paused suddenly, glancing upwards at the hole in the roof where the metal grating cover had at one point been sat. Now just a hole into masses of wiring and ventilation and mechanical shafts.

Characters: 13th Doctor, 11th Doctor, Amy Pond, Rory Williams, Yasmin Khan, Ryan Sinclair & Graham O'brien.

Chapters: 1/?

9) It Means The World

Summary: Then she realised the heavy silence that had followed her question. She found it strange, her conversation with Jo so far had been light hearted in nature so it was a big shift for it to suddenly feel like this. She looked away from the book shelf she’d been perusing through and back to Jo who was staring at her with sad, pity filled, eyes. The Doctor felt her hearts drop to her stomach and dread spread throughout her body at that expression. She knew it far too well.

“Doctor...” Jo started, her tone gentle, but the Doctor cut her off with a shake of her head.

“No.” The word came out whispered and Jo’s face only scrunched up further in guilt and pity.

Characters: 13th Doctor, Jo Grant, Yasmin Khan, Ryan Sinclair & Graham O'brien. Sarah Jane Smith (mentioned)

Chapters: 2/2 complete

10) 3rd Best Enemy

Summary: “Who is your greatest enemy?”

“The Daleks.” The words fell from her mouth before she could stop them and for a moment the room fell silent. The Fam all took clear obvious steps back as the Master whirled around to face her, his victorious grin giving way to clear offence. They were trapped in a truth field, not exactly like she could’ve lied to him if she’d tried. She did feel bad though, just a tiny bit, his ego might not be able to take this. She took a few steps to the left so she was between him and her friends and waited for him to splutter out a response finally.

Characters: 13th Doctor & The Master(Dhawan)

Complete

11) Can't Let Go

Summary: “I’m sorry I keep dragging you into my messes.” Jack’s gaze snaps back over to her, confused at her words, and even more confused at how she looks down at her feet. Her expression ashamed. She’s sat on the floor of this cell, one knee held against her chest by her arm, the other leg spread out in front of her. He frowns. He wonders for a second how the Doctor hasn’t figured out yet that he would follow her anywhere. Always has. Always will. He casts one last quick glance out the bars of the cell into the beautiful emptiness of space before he turns and moves until he can drop down next to her. Close enough that his arm almost brushes her shoulder but not enough to actually be touching.

Characters: 13th Doctor & Jack Harkness

Complete

12) Welcome Home

Summary:Instead of that though he reached for her face with one hand while the other slid around her comparatively smaller waist so he could tug her closer to him until her body was pressed up against the hard line of his body and his mouth was almost instantly on hers before she could even utter a greeting. She really should’ve seen this coming. She let him have this one, hands resting on his upper arms, as long as he didn’t push his luck. They hadn’t seen each other in a long while.

Eventually there was a loud, obvious, cough from across the console and they pulled apart, both turning to look at her Fam who were all staring at the pair with varying degrees of embarrassment or confusion.

Characters: 13th Doctor, Jack Harkness, Yasmin Khan, Ryan Sinclair & Graham O'brien.

Complete

13) Threatening to Stab? Not That Bad

Summary: “Threatening to stab someone isn’t actually stabbing them. There’s a difference.”

Characters: 12th Doctor, The Master(Gomez) / Missy & Nardole.

Complete

[thecozywhaleshark]

King of Hearts (pt. 1)

A/n: ok big oof big oof big oof I’ve just started this series and get ready folks it’s gonna be a real long one and a real steamy one and i’m excited to continue it

Word Count: 3962

Warnings: Escort Jin. A little smut (fingering). Swearing. It will only get worse from here. This is the tame part.

Summary: You are a famous writer who can’t exactly show up to an event alone... so you hire an escort... his name is Jin 

Staring anxiously at the phone before you, you tapped your fingers on your desk and tried to decide.

This was not the greatest idea you’d ever had. But it couldn’t be that bad, right? You’re not that pathetic … right? This is a thing people do… right?  And nobody would ever know… right?

You sigh and bury your face in your hands.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid book party. Stupid publisher’s meeting. Stupid erotica writer with no stupid date.

Of course, you could always show up alone, but that would spark questions.

A wonderful writer like you with no date? What a shame. So pretty too. How are you getting your inspiration? Are you between boyfriends? Do you have many one night stands?

Questions you didn’t want to deal with. How do you tell your sponsors and publishers and everyone who worked on making your books boom that you haven’t been on a date in over three years? Haven’t had sex in just as long? That your sex life was so dry even the desert probably pitied you?

You stared at the website open in front of you and moved your hand over your cell phone. It’s just one night. And for totally innocent reasons. You typed in the number, put it on speaker, and waited.

The phone clicked and a friendly woman’s voice purred through the speaker:

“Heart Escort Services, this is Cindy, how may I help you today?”

You swallowed. Of course her voice sounded like sex. Just like her trade.

Quiet, you don’t know anything about her. Don’t judge. You’re the one calling the line.

“Hello? Is anyone there? I swear to god Jeremy if this is you I’m going to report you to security because you can’t keep calling to listen to my voice and jerk off you mother-”

“Um, hello.” You stammer, and the lady on the other end goes quiet for a moment.

“Oh! I’m so sorry about that. Thank you for calling Heart Escort Services, how can I help you?”

You fiddle with the string of your hoodie and bite your lip. “Do you have male escorts?”

“We sure do! Do you have any specifics?”

You laugh nervously. “Someone handsome?”

She laughs lightly. “Honey, all our men are handsome. We are a highly sought after escort service. Not just anyone can be an escort.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.” You can feel yourself blushing furiously even though you knew it was just a phone call. You bury your face in your hands.

Lord God please, smite me from above.

Honestly, you didn’t care who your date was. You could always tell your publisher at the next event that it ended up being a short term fling.

“Um, do you have anyone available on March 23? I just need someone to um… escort… me to an event? It’s from 7-10pm.”

You cringe. Did I really just say ‘escort me to an event’ to an escort service? Smooth.

Cindy hums on the other end of the phone and you hear flipping – probably some sort of planner for the escort’s events.

“Alright, we have three men available on the day you requested at the time. Would you like me to give you their names and descriptions?”

You don’t want to choose. You just want a date. “Um… no… I’m not too picky.”

Cindy chortles. “That’s a first. No really, honey I’m going to need more than that. You’re paying for the service right? Then it’s okay to be picky.”

Oh, well when she puts it like that…

“Uh, what or sorry, which? Of the three is the most sociable? It’s a really social night and I need them to be able to hold their own in a room full of strangers if that’s okay? And um, younger? I’m only 24…”

You hear more clicking and humming from Cindy as she decides. “Okay, hun. I have a 26-year-old Korean man named Jin. He’s honestly one of the more talkative escorts that we have. I’m sure he would do great at your event. Just so you know, if you want him the entire night it will cost extra..”

“No!” you almost shout, then quickly backpedal. “I mean, no. No, sorry I don’t want him for the entire night. Just 7-10.”

“Alright, 7-10 it is then. Where should he meet you?”

You thought for a second. You were going to need to walk in with him. The event was at the Cedar Valley Hotel ballroom on 2nd.

“Can he meet me at Christine’s Coffeehouse and Café on 2nd Street?” It was down the street from the hotel, at the end of the block. They could walk up and in together.

You heard some more typing and pencil scribbling before Cindy spoke again. “Jin will meet you at Christine’s Coffeehouse and Café on 2nd on March 23 at 6:45 pm. He will be wearing a black suit and a red tie. Please remember that we only take cash, and you will pay him for his time.” You nod and quickly scramble over your desk for a sticky note and pen.

Jin. Black suit. Red tie. Christine’s. 6:45pm.

Cindy tells you his charge and you write it under the time with a note to make a trip to the bank, surprised at how high it is.

Of course he is dummy. He’s an escort. This place is high rank.

High, but not unreasonable you reasoned. You had the cash. He must be really good at what he does. But so were you.

“Thanks, Cindy. Anything else I should know?”

She laughs again on the other end of the line. “You should really have considered taking him for the night. You, missy, are missing out.”

You find yourself blushing furiously again and hang up. Pushing your hands through your hair and letting out a long breath.

You’re really doing this. You just hired an escort. You laughed to yourself and got out of your chair. If only your mother could see you now. Wouldn’t she be so proud?

You walk over to your closet and begin to flip through it. Black suit. Red tie. Black suit. Red Tie. What did you have that matched that?

 ~ three weeks later ~

 You stepped out of your taxi and fidgeted with your dress, pulling the hem down. You hadn’t realized how much it had shrunk when you decided to risk throwing it into the washer instead of taking it to the dry cleaners, and now your originally knee-length black pencil dress came down only to mid-thigh. You checked yourself out in the reflective glass of the café.

Simply cut black pencil dress – classy with just a little bit of décolletage and leg on display.

3 1/2-inch heels – as high as you can go without falling while you walk.

Simple crystal earrings.

Loose low bun with just the right amount of face-framing.

Black and silver beaded clutch.

You walked into the café and headed to the bathroom.

Makeup on point. Just touch of the red lipstick – red to match his tie – and you’re good.

You step out of the bathroom, putting your lipstick in your purse and sit down at one of the tables by the window, glancing at the time.

6:37 pm. You’re early.

You sip a glass of water nervously, trying hard not to bite your fingernails.

Please be here. Please don’t be late. Please be at least cute.

You swirled the condensation left from your glass on the table with the tip of your finger and looked at your phone again.

6:39pm.

God, those three minutes seemed like an eternity.

At 6:45pm on the dot, the door of the café dings open and a tall, handsome man strides in. He has purpose in every step, and you can’t stop yourself from staring as he glances around the room, sees you, and turns on his heel coming your way, dropping into the seat opposite of you.

Damn. He’s hot. Like really hot. Stupid handsome hot in a suit and tie. Nobody looks that good in a suit. And shoulders. SHOULDERS. How the fuck –

“Are you y/n?” he asks casually, crossing his legs and looking at you with one eyebrow quirked.

“How-how did you know?” you stutter, nervously tucking your hair behind your ear.

He leans forward and gives you a grin. “We’re the two best-dressed people in this establishment.”

You look around you and laugh. You definitely were. Two people in formalwear in a place that suggests jeans and sweaters.

“I guess the formal dress would give it away.” You smile at him and he grins back, putting you more at ease.

Stupid handsome guy has a nice smile. Of course he does. Shut up, y/n.

“I’m Jin.” He holds out his hand. 

You shake it, trying to give him a warm smile and not look creepy or freaked out. “Y/n, but I see you already know that.” 

“I hear we’re going to an event? What kind of event?”

You fold your hands in front of you to stop them from fidgeting. “I will tell you, but you can’t laugh.”

He leans forward even more, resting his face in his palm. “Ooo, this sounds interesting.”

“I’m serious.” You try to pull a serious face and he sits up and folds his hands in front of him too.

“Serious.”

You nod. “Okay. So this event, it’s a publisher’s dinner. Fancy thing. I’m an author, and it’s important. Help’s me keep in contact with my sponsors and donors and team who made my publishing’s possible.”

“What kind of books do you write?” he looks genuinely interested. You hesitate and decide to tell him a half-truth.

“Uh- romance. Romance novels. Real cheesy stuff.”

He nods and you can see him trying to hide his smile. You give him a side-eye. “Shut up.”

He works his jaw and takes a deep breath. Trying to hold his laughter. “I’m not laughing.”

“Yeah, but you want to. I can see it.”

He smiles then, a big one this time. “Hey wait you’re the one who just referred to her own works as, and I quote, ‘real cheesy stuff.’” He makes air quotes with his fingers and you laugh.

“That’s because it is!”

“If you think it’s cheesy, why do you write it?”

You look back down at the table with a smile and swirl the water on your table in a squiggly line. “Because people like cheese, it sells well.”

He laughs. “I bet.”

“So anyway, I can’t exactly show up to this meeting alone. Everyone thinks that I get my ideas from experience… when I do not.” You blush and look down again.

“Because you use your brain.” Says Jin and you look up, surprised at his answer.

This is the first person to know what I mean without teasing me about my lack of a sex life...

“Exactly! Nobody wants to understand that I’m using my own brain and imagination and information that I researched and read instead of personal experience.” You roll your eyes and give him a big smile and he chuckles.

“Because people are idiots and want to think they know everything,” he replies and you nod in confirmation.

He gives you an easy smile. “So a publisher’s party for a cheesy romance novelist who just wants them to stay out of her personal life. Sounds fun.” He stands and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

You softly place your hand in the crook of his arm. “Well now, don’t I feel fancy.”

He laughs and puts his hand over yours. “If we are playing a fake couple, we better start acting like one, dearest.”

You find yourself turning red again. Damn it easily blushing face stop it. “Of course… honey.”

He grins at you. “That’s the spirit!”  

Together you walk down the street and into the hotel lobby. The desk clerk gestures you on towards the ballroom and you easily are able to find it. Taking a deep breath you place your hand on the door and look at Jin.

“You ready?” He asks, and you nod.

“Let’s do this.”

“You forgot my pet name, pumpkin.”

You roll your eyes and open the door, giving him a sugary sweet smile over your shoulder. “Sorry, babe. Now come along dear, I simply must introduce you to my publisher.”

He grins and wraps his arm around your waist, and you can only pray you can pull this off.

~

You had been at the party for over an hour now, and Jin had been great. Really great. He introduced himself as your boyfriend, and he had been making it really fun as you played pretend. Currently, you were talking to a group of your publishers and sponsors, and Jin was winning them all over with his quick smile, easy charm, bad dad jokes, and of course, his good looks. The conversation had drifted from small talk to your books quickly, and you hated it. You hated when the attention turned back on you, and you hoped nothing too revealing would be said that outed your real writing to Jin.

“And the entirety of chapter 57?! Whoo! I tried some of that out with my husband, and I have no idea how Emilia did it! We only did one of the things mentioned you know, and I’ve never been more exhausted in my life!” chimes in Julia, your publisher, fanning herself with her hand.

“Emilia?” whispers Jin, leaning down to get to your ear. “The main character in one of my books, baby,” you whisper back and Jin nods, straightening up.

“Ah yes, Emilia.” He says louder. “I love her.” You bite back your grin as your publisher coos over him.

“Of course you do, who wouldn’t?! You’re such a supportive boyfriend for reading all your books!”

So far, so good. We’re safe.

“Y/n, you do write some of the best erotica I’ve ever read in my life. Where do you learn it all?” asks Marilyn, one of your sponsors, patting your arm gently.

Shit. I jinxed it. So much for hoping nobody brings it up.

Jin chokes on his drink and tries to hide it with a cough, grabbing your arm gently. “Sorry, ladies, gentlemen,” he nods at your publishing team. “I think I’m having a coughing fit. Y/n, sweetie, would you mind stepping out to get some air with me?”

You rub his back in mock sympathy. “Sure, darling. Are you okay?”  

“I just think I need some air, peanut.”

You can’t help your smirk as you show him to the balcony. As soon as you get through the glass doors and they close behind you, Jin doubles over laughing. “You write erotica?! You??”

You cross your arms over your chest. “Hey! That’s mean.”

He leans against the balcony rail and tries to steady himself. “Wait wait wait… sorry, but the lady who writes best-selling erotica… hired an escort?! Oh, my god.”

You sigh and lean against the railing. “Are you done?”

He gasps for air and wipes tears out of the corner of his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine. I’m good.” He straightens his tux and takes a deep breath. “I’m a professional.”

You roll your eyes. “You sure act like one.”

He smiles at you, but it’s not mean. “You’re easy to be around. This is a fun job. Normally I have to work with a lot more stiff old people.” He makes a face and you laugh.

You both stand in the cold air in silence for a few moments and he takes off his jacket, placing it around your shoulders.

You try to ignore the shiver that does down your spine when his fingers brush your bare arms and look down at it and pick up part of it with your fingers, trying to act like it’s no big deal.

“What is this? Special treatment? I didn’t know I got the deluxe deal! Oh me oh my!”

He scoffs. “I may be an escort, but I’m a gentleman.”

You nod. “Very gentlemanly.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m so glad you noticed.”

You smile. “Are you sure you won’t be cold?”

He gives you a soft smile. “What? Oh, I’m fine. I’m very warm actually. Steamy. Especially now that I know a little of Julia’s sex life.”

You laugh. “I wish conversations got better than that, but unfortunately, when you write about sex, that’s all anyone ever wants to talk about.”

He nods. “I understand that. When you’re an escort, that’s all everyone wants to talk about too.”

“Wait.. isn’t it your job to talk sex?” you giggle and he nudges you with his elbow. “Usually there’s not that much talking” he winks and you laugh.

“Okay dude, TMI.”

“TMI?! You’re the one who writes erotica! Descriptively!” he cries and you laugh again as he shakes his head.

You are both silent for a few moments before he speaks again. “Okay, but, really, what happens in Chapter 57?”

You feel your lips quirk up in a smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He looks at you incredulously. “You’re going to leave me hanging?”

“Yes, you just laughed at the fact that I write erotica!”

“I was surprised!” He defends, placing his hand over his heart. “You told me you wrote cheesy romance. I feel betrayed.”

You laugh and shove him with your shoulder. “It is a cheesy romance novel…. That just happens to have a lot of smut.”

“I told you about my sex life!” he accuses and crosses his arms, pouting. “I want to know about Chapter 57.”

God, he’s cute when he pouts.

You shrug off his jacket and hand it back to him as you walk away, smirking over your shoulder.

“Then you can buy it online or at a bookstore. It’s called Wildcard. I’ve heard it’s quite popular.” You open the door and gesture him to move. “Now come on, I think you’ve recovered from your choking hazard and I have more people I have to talk to.”

He puts his jacket back on and follows you back out into the decorated ballroom, mumbling about being left on a cliffhanger and what the frick was Chapter 57 and how you’re so mean to him, really princess, you can’t give your favorite escort a brief rundown?

You ignore him and link your arm through his again as you wade back into the room, getting called over almost immediately by your editor, who wants you to meet some more people.

~

At the end of the night, you take him to a secluded hallway in the hotel and pull the money out of your purse, watching him count it as you rub your arm nervously.

“Hey,” you say, and he looks up, raising an eyebrow. “I just, wanted to say, thanks… for saving my ass in there… you really did me a solid by being my date tonight.” You laugh and look away, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Well… you did hire me…” he trails off, tucking the cash into his coat pocket.

You blush. “I know, but still… thanks. I had a lot more fun than I thought I would.”

You flick your eyes to his briefly and he looks around the hall before striding forward and cupping the back of your neck, kissing you.

You gasp in surprise and he easily slips his tongue in. You find yourself clutching at the lapels of his coat as he deepens the kiss, his other hand sliding up the side of your thigh, under your dress.

You pull back and look at him wide-eyed as he slides his hand up towards your panties. “Jin?”

He smirks and continues to slide his hand slowly up. “You overpaid. I thought you didn’t want me all night?”

You feel your cheeks redden, but your gaze can’t leave his face. “I-I just tipped you.”

He licked his lips and pressed them back to yours before kissing his way down your jaw. “I think you wanted a little…taste, baby” he whispered huskily as he nips at your neck.

I should turn away. I should push him off. It was just a tip… but OH what did he just do to my neck?? god, do it again..

You moan softly as he works his way down your neck and cups you through your panties. Your heart pounds against your chest as you choose to ignore your logical mind and do something you’ve never done before…

Oh, what the hell.

…just let it happen.

You spread your legs a little further for him and moan in his ear as he begins to rub you through your panties.

“So wet for me? Already? And here I thought you just hired me as pretty eye candy,” he grins against your neck as you grab his hair, tugging his mouth back to yours, desperate for something, anything.

He slides his fingers under the side of your panties and you bite his lip when he teases his fingers up and down your folds, sliding against your slick.

“Ooo, you’re a feisty one, I see,” he smirks and nips your mouth right back, sliding his fingers slowly against you.

You had never been this turned on in your life, despite having past boyfriends who had tried and a few hookups… but none of them had ever felt this good. Had made you feel this good.

“Jin,” you moan, bucking your hips into his hand. “More.”

“As you wish ma ’lady” he nips harshly at your neck and you yelp, but he quickly lavishes over it with his tongue, soothing as his finger drags your slick to your clitoris and he begins to circle it slowly.

The back of your head hits the hallway wall, exposing more of your neck to Jin’s lips as you have to bite your own hand to stifle your moans when he slips a finger inside you.

He moans against your neck and pulls away from it with a pop, resting his forehead against your own.

“God, y/n, you’re so tight,” he whispers, pumping his finger in and out of you and then adding a second.

You buck your hips against his hand and he beings to curl his fingers up, grazing your sweet spot so deliciously as he begins to make out with you again to soften your moans.

He works you like this for a little while and you start keening, panting his name into his mouth while your hands clutch at his hair and shoulders to keep your balance standing up.

It’s all so much, too much, for someone who hasn’t been touched like this in years, and you find yourself burying your face into his chest when he presses his thumb to your clit with just the right amount of pressure and you come hard over his fingers, moaning his name.

He works you through your orgasm and as you come down you blush red again, realizing that you just let an escort, that you paid for, get you off in a back hotel hallway.

You hide in his shirt a few moments longer, trying to breathe until he gently pushes you off his chest and slides his fingers out from your underwear. You pull back, your hands still on his shoulders and he smirks seductively as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks, making you blush harder.

He then shoves that hand in his pocket and backs away from you, giving you a two-fingered salute with his other hand.

“See you around, y/n. That was fun.”

He winks and turns, strolling out of the hotel doors, leaving you open-mouthed, panting, and wondering why that had been the best orgasm you’d ever had.

~~

Part 2 

[thatjusthappned]

Going Up?

“Shawn Mendes is trapped in an elevator with what some would say is a crazed fan. Reports say she followed him in to get sometime alone. It’s been a total of 3 hours they’ve been stuck in the elevator. A hotel representative says they’re doing everything to get them out safely.” A News lady reports

                                              (in the elevator)

“Do you have a 7?” Shawn asks as we play go fish for the fifth time since we decided that talking about our lives was getting boring. “Go fish.” I say with a smirk, Shawn shakes his head as he blows air out his mouth which fills his cheeks. “I think you’re cheating and I don’t play with cheaters.” He picks up another card “Have you ever thought that you just suck at go fish?” Shawn glares at me “Do you have a 4?” Shawn sighs and throws the card at me “So cheating.” He mumbles under his breath. “What was that?” I asked with a laugh “Nothing, all I have to say is that you just so happen to have a deck of card in your bag and you’ve won every game we’ve played. Just sounds a little fishy, that’s all.” He says leaning back against the elevator wall. “Sounds like you just suck to me.” I said laughing hard holding the cards to my chest “It’s a game for 5 year old’s! How can I be bad at it.” Shawn says trying to sound mad, but fails with the smile that plays on his face. 

“ Hey Shawn and Y/N.” The Hotel manger says over the speaker “Sup?” We both respond looking up at the speaker. “So we’re still working on getting you guys out. For some reason we can’t get the elevator to move. Quite strange honestly, but soon we’ll be able to fix this don’t worry.” We nod “If there is an emergency you know what to do.” The manger says then disconnects from us. 

I look back over at Shawn he’s looking at his cards as his phone sits next to him and a text tone goes off that I’ve learned is his moms. Shawn checks it “My mom wants to know how you’re doing.” he looks at me “I’m good, let her know that I’m winning.”  he shacks his head a little and types something to her “I think we should do something else.” I say putting my cards down. Shawn gives me a weird look “It’s just not fun when I’m always winning.” I say leaning on the wall behind me, placing my arms behind my head for some kind of support and comfort. “What should be do now then?” Shawn asks, I shrug “You pick.” I close my eyes getting as comfortable as I possibly could. “I’m just gonna start asking you questions now.” I hum to indicate that was fine. 

“How old were you when you had you’re first kiss?” I opened my eyes then close them “10 years old, 6th grade, it was a zap.” he makes a noise “What is a ‘zap’?” Shawn asks “It was something kids in my school used to do. Someone writes something on the inside of your palm. Like a dare, you can’t look look at it, you can’t wash it off, and if you do look at it you have to do it.” I explain “I see, sound interesting. Do you wanna do a zap on each other?” Shawn asks, making me open my eyes then sit up crossing my legs again. “Um I’ll have to see if I have something to write with.” I say bring my bag closer to me “If you have cards in you bag and not a pen. Then that is just weird.” He mocks with sassy in his voice. I smile pulling out a marker and a pen. “Pick one.” I hold them out and he takes the marker. 

I pick the cards up and put them way. “So how are we doing this?” He asks moving closer to me. I also move closer, we’re both sitting crisscrossed with our knees together “Um.” I think to myself then looked up at him to answer but get distracted looking into his eyes. Now clearly this man is beautiful, but being this close it just a lot to take in. I was a fan of course but I always reminded myself that he’s human also and he deserves to be treated like one. It’s just that he’s an amazing human, which just so happened to make my crush on him that much worse than before he had no idea who I was. “Well, um. Give me your hand, I’ll write on it then you can write on mine.” He gives me his hand. Which is heavy and was some where in the middle of soft but manly. “Now look away.” I say looking him in the eyes again. “Right.” He turns his head. 

I think about what to write but nothing comes to mind. then something dose. So I write it. I blow on the ink to make sure it’s dry before closing his hand. “Okay now don’t look at it.” I say as he looks back at me. I let go of his heavy hand it’s like i was letting go of a five pound weight. “Which hand is not you dominant hand?” I hold it up he gently takes it. I’m scared to look away. “Turn you head little missy.” I do but he hasn’t started writing on my hand yet. It’s making me nervous, and want to peek. So I do. “Hey! That’s cheating.” Shawn says loudly then he turns his whole body around.Taking my arm with him and because of my arm length, my body and face gets pulled into his back. I let out a small moan of pain “Shit, sorry!” he says looking over his shoulder at me “You’re okay, just write.” I say back. I’m sitting very close to him, so close that I’m trying not to lean on him. He’s just taking too long and I’m getting tired. So I find myself leaning my head on his shoulder. “How did you come up with something? This is hard.” Shawn says “Just put anything you want.” I laugh “OH! I know.” He says “I’m gonna wipe your hand off on my chest it’s gotten sweaty.” he says as  he takes my hand by the wrist and places a finger on the back of my hand to keep it in place.

I swallow the spit that’s suddenly built up in my mouth. Then I feel the markers tip on my palm and I’m trying to figure out what he’s writing. Which doesn’t work, dammit I used to me so good at that. Shawn blows on my hand to make the ink dry, then closes my hand for me like I did for him. He turns to me and lets go of my hand slowly. I look up from our hands to him. He’s already looking at me with a smile. Not in a creepy way but a sweet way, this causes me to blush and move my body back to my “side’ of the elevator. He still has the smile on his face as he moves back also. “So what’s you’re favorite song that no body knows about.” He asks and I pull out my phone and place the hand with the zap on the cold floor so I don’t look at it. “This is.” I said starting to play it.

                              (4 hours, and 30 minutes later)

we’ve been trapped in the elevator for 8 hours, I’m basically falling asleep and I’m hungry and Shawn is also. “Hey so we’ve know how to get you out. Unfortunately It’s not the safest, but it’s kinda the only option at this point, but luckily you guys are only stuck in between the 2nd and 3rd floors it won’t be a far drop and you’ll be completely safe for the most part.” The manger says scaring me “FOR THE MOST PART? What the fuck do you mean?” I yell standing up yelling at the speaker “Hey Y/N calm down it’s okay.” Shawn says standing behind me placing his hands on my shoulders. Which does calm me down and I let out a loud sigh. I still have an annoyed look on my face. “What is this option?” Shawn asks his hand beginning to rub my arms to keep me calm I’m guessing. “Well we found out the cord to the elevator has somehow jammed and broke a little bit. We can’t pull you guys up throw the roof of it because it’s more than likely to brake. So we need to cut the cable so you guys can fall down and then we can get you out of there.” Wow i’m gonna die. I let my head fall back which hits Shawn’s chest. “Okay what do we have to do?” Shawn says still looking at the speaker. One of his hands smooths down my hair and I let him. I pick my head up and he’s now moved both hands to my hair now. “You guys need to lay down on the floor stay as still as possible. If you guess remain close you’ll be okay. So just cuddle up. We’re ready to cut the cord as soon as you guys are ready.” I begin to breath heavy and I turn to Shawn. 

“This can’t be the only way.” I’m freaking out he places his hands on my head to look at him. I look him in the eyes and he waits until my breathing isn’t as heavy as before. “We can do this. You’re going to be okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Trust me.” I nodded at his words. “okay now lets lay down and you lay facing me and i’ll pull you close to me. Then we’ll be out in no time.” I nod. He lets me go and we both lay on our sides facing each other. Shawn pulls me closer like he said he would my face in his chest breathing in his smell. which is also calming. Hell everything about this boy is calming. “Are you ready?” He asks after a minute. I nod closing my eyes tight “We’re ready.” Shawn says loud. “See you soon.” Says the manger, Then in what seems like a matter of seconds we’re falling. 

——————————————————————

So let me know if I should do a second part to this, would love to do one. 

[renegadewangs]

Ace Mindhunter - 2nd Interview

Characters: Simon Blackquill, Athena Cykes, Shi-Long Lang, and a rogues gallery of AA villains. Fandom: Ace Attorney Pairings: N/A. Warnings/rating: 16+, I would say. Talk of heavy themes such as death and abuse, plus cursing. Spoilers for every AA game up to Spirit of Justice, AAI2 included. Gratuitous amounts of headcanon for antagonists. Summary: Simon Blackquill is roped into a Behavioral Analysis project along with Athena Cykes. They must sit down with convicted murderers for interviews, in hopes of finding out just what drove them to their convoluted crimes.

2nd Interview Roger

Date: June 9th 2028 Time: 2:21 PM Location: Interview Room. Another day, another interview. Much as Simon had protested, Athena had stood her ground. She wished to be a part of this project and now that she'd drawn the answers out of Vasquez where Simon had failed, there was no way to argue. If there were ever an early interview which would have her lose her nerve, today's subject would be the one to do it. They'd gone from one TV producer to another, this one a familiar face to Athena. He'd been tossed into prison quite recently, on the 28th of April, four months after Simon had left it. This inmate had not killed out of self-defense. It had been premeditated, vindictive and as convoluted as things tended to get around L.A. these days. The perfect subject for a closer examination. They had been kept waiting for over twenty minutes already when at last a guard entered the room from the inmate's side. “The Ratings Rajah will see you now,” the guard said, acting as if he were announcing the entry of royalty. “This should be good,” Simon heard Athena mutter under her breath. Despite never having been one to regard the muck produced by Take-2 TV, the man who walked into the room was exactly the sort Simon would picture to be behind it all. Greasy hair, a smug grin, a raised eyebrow, sunglasses even within a dark room... He was as different from Vasquez as could be. While his beady eyes flicked to Athena for an instant, he seemed unbothered to be faced with one of the defense attorneys who'd caused his downfall. After sitting down, he leaned his chair back and put his feet up on the table. “Hang loose, babies! Let's make this quick, yeah? I'm a busy man,” Retinz said. “Are you really?” Athena asked in turn, glaring at him. “Is that your first question? Eesh. This is why I don't leave interviews to amateurs. Need me to take charge instead?” Retinz reached for the list of prepared questions, but Simon slid it out of his reach and instead gestured to the tape recorder. “Before any of that, do you mind if we record this?” “Mind if I do?” Retinz pulled a camcorder out of his sleeve and directed it at Simon's face, grinning. “Sorry,” said the guard, who'd remained by the door. “He's not allowed to have things like that, but he keeps hiding them somehow. We just can't figure out where he's keeping it all.” “Magician's secret, I suppose,” Athena grumbled. “Ever heard of enunciation?” Retinz asked her. “Better speak up, unless you want your audience to deal with subtitles.” “You'd best put that camera away before I remove your hand with it. There will be no more coin tricks for you when you're without fingers,” Simon said. Retinz promptly made his camcorder disappear again. “So what's this interview all about? Are you writing an article about how right I was? Have you come to apologize for slandering my good name?” “Ugh...” Athena looked almost nauseous. She pulled herself together again with impressive speed, though. “We're here on behalf of Interpol's Behavioral Analysis Unit. We'll be asking you about your family history, antecedent behavior and thought patterns surrounding the crime you have committed. Our goal is to compile several psychological profiles and, ultimately, use them to create a statistical analysis which will not include your name. What you discuss with us is subject to Interpol's confidentiality clause and cannot be used against you in your applications for parole.” “So this is... What, a science project for school?” Retinz asked. “Interpol,” Athena snapped at him. “Potato, tomato.” Athena puffed up her cheeks with indignation. Simon decided that he would allow her to take the lead again for now, as this experience would either toughen her hide or break her determination to go through with the project. “We'd like to talk about where you were born and raised.” Athena opened her folder to glimpse down at Retinz's profile. “It says here you lived in Wichita until you were sixteen years old?” Retinz made a very loud noise, similar to a game show's buzzer. “Kansas? No, no, what kinda mook do you take me for? Haven't you watched any of my shows? Born and raised in Brooklyn!” “There's no government record of you ever living in Brooklyn.” “Who cares about records? Didn't I just tell you? It's all explained in my shows.” “... So you're lying to your audience,” Athena concluded, pursing her lips together. Retinz waved a dismissive hand at her. “Talk about greenhorns... Don't you know nobody cares about the truth? They get enough of that from their own lives. People watch TV so the flashy, mindblowing fiction can distract them from all that.” “That sounds rather like a magician's misdirection,” Simon pointed out. “It's a producer's bread and butter. Besides, anyone can do a bit of trickery on TV. All it takes is clever editing, a green screen here and there, some hapless acting... It's all easy gimmicks.” Retinz glanced towards the far wall, his gaze hardening. “... A magician's deception takes hard work and passion. Only a filthy criminal could have that sort of talent.” “A criminal such as yourself?” Athena asked him. “What are you saaaying? You'd better wash your mouth out with soap right now, Missy!” Retinz proclaimed, raising both hands in a defensive manner. “Are you kidding me right now?! I was there when it all went down in the courtroom, remember? We exposed you as a killer!” “You sure that was me? Maybe I had a twin, like those cute magician girls.” Athena looked ready to boil over. As for Simon, he saw an opportunity and took it. “Hold on. Only a moment ago, you stated that only a filthy criminal could have the talent necessary to be a magician. Yet now you refer to cute magicians?” “Those wannabes weren't real magicians. No talent. Zilch,” Retinz stated. “That's why they were piggybacking off Little Miss Wright, see.” “Right, speaking of your grudge against Trucy Wright-” Athena began, only to be interrupted. “Grudge? What gruuudge?” “The one that landed you in here!” “Don't know what you're talking about. I've got better things to do than project resentment onto little girls. Makes for a great TV show, though! Exactly the sort of fiction people are searching for in their mundane lives! Maybe you're not a lost cause after all.” “Oh, uh...” Retinz pulled a phone out of his pocket and promptly began typing, muttering to himself. “Defense attorneys make for great script writers. They sure can spin some interesting delusions, LOL! Smiley face... Hashtag Wright Anything Losers... Aaand post!” Simon glanced at the guard, who took a single step towards Retinz. There was no point, though, as the phone had already vanished by the time the second step was taken. Simon wondered just how many followers Retinz still had on social media and made a note to find out. A live feed directly from prison and the support it might gain could add to their research. “That's slander...” Athena huffed. “Talk to me about slander when you're stuck in death row for a murder you didn't do, yeah?” Athena leaned back in her chair, lost as could be. Simon didn't blame her. This sort of denial would usually only be found on the witness stand. To have it continue even after conviction... Well, it made for an interesting sub-category within their study, to say the least. “So tell me, Mr. Greasy Producer,” Simon began, “why are you in here?” “I was framed by the competition, obviously. Take-3 TV hates my guts. Might've even teamed up with Trucy Wright- you know. The real killer.” Athena made a move as if she were about to tear Retinz's head off, so Simon held her back with one hand. Even as he did so, he watched their subject's reactions very closely. “So all those testimonies of what people have seen and heard in the courtroom during the Wright trial... Those were all fabricated?” “Oh, you bet. I'd tell you to ask the girl sitting right next to you, but she's good buddies with Trucy. She won't take my side, believe you me.” “I see that you've requested an appeal of your case several times.” “And I will keep asking until I get it.” “This is pointless,” Athena said quite abruptly, slamming the folder shut and rising to her feet. “We're not going to get anything out of him. Let's just go.” For all of four seconds, Simon assumed her claims to be a bluff. Some trick to get Retinz talking. That was thrown into question when she left the room and didn't return. Indeed, this interview had broken her determination, just as he'd wished. Why, then, did it leave him feeling defeated? “Excuse me. We will continue this interview tomorrow.” Simon got up from his chair as well, stopping the recording process. Retreat was indeed the best strategy for now. Retinz grinned up at him, looking every bit the victor. “Hey, bring some good coffee next time, will you? None of that machine sludge they try to poison me with in here. I need a hit of a brand name, like Bunny's Caffé or Starbills.” “... Duly noted.” ------- Date: June 9th 2028 Time: 2:31 PM Location: Detention Center. Athena was storming through the detention center and towards the prison's exit so fast, Simon would have trouble keeping up if he were a lesser man. He caught up to her just before she reached the door and while he used very little force, he grabbed her arm all the same. “Hold it.” “I'm not going back in there,” Athena insisted, whirling round to face him. “Let's just tell Lang it's a waste of time. Because it is. How are we supposed to ask him about his childhood if he's just going to lie about it? And how will we find out anything about his thoughts during the murder if he keeps insisting he didn't do it?” “The denial is, in itself, something worth investigating. Where does it stem from? How does it sustain itself within his mind? Are you not curious?” “I... Maybe. Or maybe he's just acting like that to piss us off. A skeevy guy like him would know all about acting, right?” Athena glanced down towards the ground, then back up at Simon, as if hoping for his confirmation. “The only way to be certain is to continue the interview. I've told him that we will return tomorrow and we had best plot out a strategy before then.” Athena grinned and pumped a fist. “Oooh, so you're on board with me helping you out after all?” “... I believe that the daughter of Metis Cykes would not be defeated by a mere hustler of a magician. You must stand tall and if that means you would walk into a room with a killer willingly, I will stand by your side.” “Aww, that's sweet. Thanks, Simon.” Athena nudged his upper arm. “The two of us together, we'll crack this guy. Or just his ribs. Either one.” They retreated into a corner of the detention center's waiting area, where several couches and coffee tables were gathered. Simon made sure to look so very gloomy and ill-tempered, no one would come within twenty feet of them while they discussed more sensitive matters. “So how do we get him to say something that isn't nonsense?” Athena asked. “Perhaps we can begin by asking him about the victim. He knew that unfortunate wannabe magician long before the murder. Perhaps something worthwhile will spill out.” “Oh, I'm sure he'll offer his sincere condolences and make sure we've recorded it. And then he'll try to use it as evidence if he ever gets an appeal,” Athena huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “We all know he did it! Who does he think he's fooling?” Simon mulled it over for a moment. Seven years in prison had left his views on psychology rusty, and he believed it best that Lang never find out about that, or else he'd risk losing his chance to meet with the Phantom. For now, he had to focus and get those old gears grinding again. “I don't believe his words to be hot air. Not entirely, anyway. Indeed, everyone knows he committed the crime, so there is only one person left to fool.” “Who would that be?” “Himself, of course. He shows signs of emotional detachment, not only towards the crime but towards his past. Furthermore, while his mind associates accomplished magicians with criminals, recall his reactions when accused of being either one.” “... He deflected.” “Precisely. Perhaps we should not be speaking to Roger Retinz, the Ratings Rajah. Instead, we ought to find a way to converse with Mr. Reus.” ------- Date: June 10th 2028 Time: 2:18 PM Location: Interview Room. Once again, they'd been kept waiting for almost twenty minutes when at last Retinz walked in with a casual stride. Once again, he tilted his chair back and allowed his feet to rest on the table. His eyes moved towards a cup on the table. “... Bunny's Caffé?” “Indeed. You failed to specify what sort of coffee you wanted. I've decided that you are a double espresso man and if you don't like it, you will not be a coffee man at all,” Simon said, smirking. “Double espresso is exactly on the nose. Thanks, man. At least someone here has good manners.” Retinz made sure to shoot a filthy look towards Athena, then he took the espresso and drained it without so much as a second thought. Simon wondered vaguely whether he had built up an immunity to caffeine over the years or whether he'd just given himself a sleepless night. “We'd like to try, once again, to go over this list of questions with you. It is imperative that we gain better insight into your history and motives.” “Why? Your little pet project is about killers, right? You've got the wrong person. I'd suggest you pay Trucy Wright a visit instead.” While Athena's fingers tensed, she said nothing. Simon drew a steadying breath of his own before continuing. “First of all, it's imperative that we establish something else. That is, are you the magician known as Mr. Reus?” “Whaaat?” Retinz went from faux surprise to a dismissive attitude so fast, it could've given him vertigo. “Don't you know anything? Manov Mistree was Mr. Reus. He's dead now.” “Then, I will rephrase the question. Were you, at any given point in time, Mr. Reus?” Retinz clammed up immediately. There was no acting, no snide comebacks, nothing. What did happen was that the man reached for his right arm, where a scar was meant to be. Ready to deal the final blow, Simon pulled a handful of change from his pocket and placed it in front of Retinz. “What is...?” the man asked. He moved into some sort of stiff disdain. “You think I'm so down on my luck that I need your charity? Don't be ridiculous.” “A few coin tricks, if you please. As I was unable to play the part of audience during the Wright trial, I've heard no more than tales.” “If you want to see your coins disappear, just give them to a hobo. Or Little Miss Trucy.” “Quite right, anyone can make coins disappear. Only the Great Mr. Reus possesses the skill to perform the finest coin tricks in the world. Tricks of legend.” For a few seconds, Retinz seemed almost hesitant. Then something changed at the drop of a hat- or a facade. His gaze hardened and just like that, he was a whole other person. He took several coins in hand, clenched his fist, then they were gone. He stretched out all his fingers to show off his empty palm. Next, he held up his other hand, where the coins were spread out quite neatly between his fingers. “... Now, check behind your right ear.” Simon frowned, did as he was told and found another coin there, kept in place by his untidy hair. “How's that for a magic trick? I could have a coin appear anywhere on your body if I wanted to, but there's certain lines I don't dare cross. You don't seem the type who would laugh about it.” “Mr. Reus, I presume?” “The one and only. We accept no more imitations or substitutes.” Athena's jaw must've dropped at some point, for Simon looked her way just in time to see that she was closing her mouth again. “Oh... Well. All right, then.” “I would like to ask, once more, for your truthful participation. Are you prepared to answer our questions?” Reus clenched his hand together and tilted it, so that he could flick a coin into the air with his thumb. He caught it quite deftly. “Ask away.” “You were born and raised in Wichita, where you lived until you were sixteen years old, is that correct or isn't it?” “Bingo.” “Tell us about your parents.” “They were poor. Dirt poor. We lived in a run-down little shack. Pops was unemployed and drunk, mom was packing groceries at the deli.” “Did you have any siblings?” “Nope, it was just me. Probably for the best, because three was already a crowd in that hovel of a house.” “You didn't get along with your parents?” “Nope.” While Athena was attempting to stay out of the conversation, her pen was scritching against the paper. Simon didn't want to ask his next question in front of her, but knew that he had no choice. Regardless, he would be a hypocrite for assuming that she wouldn't be strong enough to handle this sort of thing. He'd already made his decision when he stopped Athena from leaving the detention center only a day ago. A deep breath, then he posed the query. “Did they abuse you?” “Sounds like this interview's turning into a dumpsterfire. Don't get too close, or you might get burned,” Reus proclaimed. He stopped flipping his coin and held it in the palm of his fist. When next he opened his hand, there were several inches of flames. The glow of the miniature fire was so bright that the lenses of Reus's sunglasses became obscured. The guard, who had once again been standing ready by the door, appeared both unnerved and unwilling to act. So much for the strong arm of the law. “Whoah, whoah! Take it easy, Jafar!” Athena called at him. It seemed as if Reus needed just a bit more incentive to speak. One more gimmick to open up to them. Simon reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a deck of cards. It was placed before the magician, drawing his attention without further ado. “Go on. Take them,” Simon urged. “I assure you, it's a complete deck.” A pause, then the flame in Reus's palm disappeared. He began to shuffle the cards in the most expert manner Simon had ever seen, even going so far as to shoot the deck from one hand into the other and back again. The whole ordeal turned into something of a blur. Finally, Reus held the deck face-down looked him square in the eye. “Name a card off the top of your head.” “... The Ace of Spades,” Simon said. Reus lifted the top card off the deck and placed it face-up on the table. It was the Ace of Spades. “Now you, Missy,” he told Athena. “Uuuhh... The Five of Hearts?” Reus lifted the next card off the deck and that one, too, was exactly as foretold. Athena smacked a hand down on the table. “Wait, no! I changed my mind! I want the Four of Diamonds!” Reus took the Five of Hearts with his free hand, spun it around on his fingertip, then placed it back down. It was now no longer the Five of Hearts, it was the Four of Diamonds. “It is done.” “Maaaaan... That's impossible.” Athena said, and Simon didn't need her special ability to hear the envy in her voice. Reus slid the two cards back into the deck, then began to shuffle again. He looked quite content as he did so, perhaps even comfortable. He was in his element, which was exactly as Simon had planned it. “My Pops,” Reus began, placing down the King of Clubs for them as if it were a tarot card, “was King of the castle. He was the one who would lay down the law and he would punish accordingly. That law depended on his mood. On a bad day, he'd knock the stuffing outta me just for breathing too loudly.” Simon was forced to consider the possibility that this was yet another 'fiction' tailored to a certain audience. Without a doubt, this sort of story held fitting notes to those attempting to compose the melody of a psychological profile. Still, the look on Reus's face gave the whole thing credibility. It was grim and real. “What did your mother say about that?” “Mom... was his devoted Queen.” Reus laid the Queen of Hearts out next to the King, then placed a Joker neatly below the two of them. “She had no problems with the hierarchy because the law didn't apply to her. She kept saying Pops had it rough because he was having such a hard time finding a job, and if he took it out on me it was my own fault. Somehow, everything was always my fault. Somehow, I was the failure.” “That sounds like a tense atmosphere for a child.” “No kidding. Pops said he didn't want me around, so I didn't stick around. I was outside the house more often than inside, hiding and practicing magic tricks.” Reus slipped the Joker back into the deck of cards first, shuffled, then snatched up remaining two to complete the collection again. With that, he went right back to absentminded shuffling. “What exactly about magic was it that drew your attention?” Athena asked, now a bit more sympathetic and willing to tend to business than before. “A magician could do anything and overcome anything. No limits. Being sawed in half was no problem, being tied up with chains and stuck in a dunk tank was no problem, being trapped in a cage and then run through with swords was no problem... They could make a yacht disappear, they could teleport across the stage, they could read your mind... When I was a kid, I thought magicians were the most powerful beings in the world.” Simon tapped his pen against the paper, thinking it over. “And they could never be hurt, correct?” The cards Reus had been holding sprang into the air and scattered all over. He recoiled, once again reaching for his scarred arm as if he'd just been burned in that very specific spot. “W-Well... Only the very best, obviously.” “So when you were sixteen, you left your home and attempted to make a name for yourself as Mr. Reus.” “Right. Naive youngster that I was, I had my sights set on the Gramarye Troupe.” Reus returned to flipping a coin as he spoke, each time catching it with such a nimble motion of the fingers that it didn't land so much as transition straight into its next jump. “By the time I was twenty, they'd already welcomed me into their midst. Bunch of miserable traitors that they were...! I gave several years of my life to them- gave them everything I had to give and they dropped me like I was nothing! My burning passion was nothing but a sad little smoulder in their eyes!” “... I've heard tales that Magnifi cast you out after a single mishap and none of the other Gramaryes stuck up for you.” “That's saying it lightly. Magnifi humiliated me and soured the name of the Great Mr. Reus for years to come. Anyone who believes Troupe Gramarye was a family is dead wrong. Every single one of the old man's students was fighting for their own reputation and I didn't see it until that incident opened my eyes. That's when I learned you can't trust anyone in this world- least of all magicians.” “And yet... You did not exact any sort of revenge until many years later. Not until Trucy Wright announced her plans of a Gramarye revival. What prompted you to act at that time, when you had been living a perfectly content life away from magic for almost thirteen years already?” “Magnifi and his accomplices got their due without my interference. A year after I was dismissed, Thalassa pulled a vanishing act of her own- some say she got hurt while practicing a magic act, just as I did, so Magnifi made his failure of a daughter disappear. A few years later, the old man croaked, Zak took the fall for his murder and Valant was effectively castrated. I thought the Gramarye name was dead and buried, so I made peace with it. That is, until she appeared.” “Trucy Wright?” Simon frowned and sat back in his chair. “Even if she wanted to revive the Gramarye name, she had nothing to do with your disgrace. She was only a young lass at the time.” Reus slammed his hand down on the table quite suddenly and while the fire in his hand had long gone out, it was still in his eyes. “She has the Gramarye blood and she flaunted the name! Trucy in Gramarye Land, indeed! What a joke! She even wanted to drag Mr. Reus into that disaster of a publicity stunt! Over my dead body!” “At that point, you were no longer Mr. Reus,” Athena said with a bit of a scoff. “It was Manov Mistree's decision to make, and so... It was over his dead body. You made sure of that.” “Don't you sit there and judge me, missy! A pipsqueak like you could never understand this all-consuming fire; this need for revenge. Trucy Wright is doomed to be every bit the criminal her parents and grandpappy were. If she isn't already, she will be some day, you mark my words!” While Athena might've huffed at Reus's attitude even further, something held her back. It was the emotion, perhaps, to the man's words. Widget was alternating between blue and red around her neck. “Do you believe,” Simon began, “that the sins of the parents carry into their children? That blood ties limit a person's potential by tying them down?” “Absolutely.” “Then, what of your own parents? Do you believe they set you on a path you could no longer stray from?” “... Ayep. I reckon they did.” “Have they come to see you after you gained a name for yourself? The Ratings Rajah was a big deal, after all.” “Oh, they hunted me down, all right.” A mean smirk appeared on Reus's face, implying he was delighted by the memory rather than horrified. “They came right up to my penthouse, packed bags by their side, asking for money and a place to stay.” “What did you say to them?” Reus took the empty espresso cup and held it between both hands, then pressed his palms together. While Simon had definitely seen the cup crumple under all that pressure, the remains had vanished when Reus pulled his hands apart again. So long as there was magic in this world, who would have need for a trash can? “Nothing. I laughed and slammed the door shut in their faces. What goes around, comes around, right?” he stated with no end to his amusement. With that, Simon considered the interview an official success; they'd learned quite a bit about what had driven Roger Retinz to premeditated murder. All it had cost him was a handful of change and a deck of cards. Applying that knowledge in practice was a whole other matter, but at the very least, they could present results to Lang. Athena must not have been quite satisfied yet, for she looked through the papers and chose another angle of attack. “If you don't mind, I'd like to go back to the topic of Manov Mistree for a bit,” she stated. “As I understand it, he was a big fan of the original Mr. Reus and you happened to learn of that by chance. Instead of ignoring that bit of your past, you revealed yourself to him and made him your apprentice. Why was that?” “Why indeed?” Reus asked, and while it might've been taken as sarcastic, the furrowing of his brow suggested that he was wondering in earnest. He went back to flipping his coin again. “... Maybe I was feeling vindictive. Maybe I wanted Mr. Reus to have one last bit of glory and I didn't care who I had to corrupt in order to get it.” “You believe that you corrupted Mr. Mistree?” “Of course. Such a bright-eyed, optimistic, gullible guy... Not the brightest bulb in the shop, but he was determined to learn. He could've been anything else, really, but he wanted to be a magician so badly. If he hadn't dreamed those foolish dreams, he wouldn't have met such a sticky end.” “And only a criminal could have a knack for deceiving people the way a magician does, hm?” Athena mused aloud. “So what was your relationship with Mr. Mistree like? Did you encourage him to follow his dreams or did you warn him about what it took to be the real deal?” “Oh, I did everything Magnifi refused to do for me. I gave him pats on the back and complimented his progress; the whole good mentor shebang. He ate it up. Never seen anyone more thirsty for approval and boy did he get it.” Simon's gaze flickered towards Athena, then back to Reus. “Did you take advantage of Mistree's adoration?” “You're gonna have to be more specific, pal.” “Did you engage in acts of a sexual nature with him?” “A guy like me, who's constantly surrounded by bikini babes in the studio? You've got some guts, asking me a question like that.” “Yet, you fail to answer.” Reus flicked several coins through the fingers of his left hand. Athena squeaked out of nowhere and hopped up from her chair. The Five of Hearts was pulled out of her boot and impressive as the trick had been, neither herself nor Simon was amused. They both made that clear through their furious expressions, which were all but ignored. “... I did at first,” Reus ultimately admitted, now flipping a coin along the back of his hand from finger to finger. When he caught sight of the look on Athena's face, he tutted. “Don't you worry, I didn't do anything he wasn't into. He was the one taking charge, not me. Took him out to dinner and everything, too. Burger Barn.” “Seriously? All that money, and you take the guy you're sleeping with to Burger Barn?” Athena's disgust reached a whole new low. As for Simon, he was of the opinion that Retinz's cheap nature was the least of his crimes. “Yeah, that really should've tipped him off, shouldn't it? Good old Manny, he was so blinded by the person he thought I was, he couldn't see the trash inside. Lots of expectation for me to live up to. How could I crush his hopes? But after a while, he became more Reus than Manov. That's when I stopped getting my kicks.” Simon's eyes narrowed into a glare. “That turn of events was your own doing. By actively encouraging Mistree's dreams and teaching him your ways, you shaped him into Mr. Reus. Then, when he was close to becoming just like you; a supposed criminal... You could justify butchering him with a clear conscience. He ceased to be a person and instead became a means to an end.” “Seems like it. I created a monster, by which I mean myself, and then I fed that monster to the flames of my revenge in hopes the fire would consume the last shreds of Magnifi's legacy. Fucking tragic.” “If you agree that the mindset is tragic, do you regret what you've done?” Reus stood quite suddenly and threw a card across the room as if it were a ninja star. The corner of it pierced the wall and so, the card remained there. Athena looked impressed. Simon thought the showmanship was quite unnecessary, but then, perhaps it was one of the few outlets Reus still had left. The disgraced magician placed both hands on the table and leaned forward, speaking his next words in a vicious whisper. “I'd kill Manov a hundred times over if it meant I had a chance to be rid of my thirst for revenge. I would need to kill him a hundred times over, because that's what it means to be a fuck-up. … How's that for a psychological profile, Dr. Freud?” To Be Continued

[guideaus]

like after these exact two moments the movie felt like it changed both times