#got lost in my head while writing lab reports and i forgot about the time

[opia-jpg]

third week of cat october !!

[kiyosamu]

remember.

----♡----

pairing: rintaro suna x female reader.

genre: yandere, dark, light romance. // one shot, 4k words.

synopsis: abusive relationships can seem impossible to leave. when you open up to a classmate, your life takes a dramatic turn in the best and worst ways imaginable.

content warnings: assault, domestic abuse (not from suna), descriptions of violence, yandere themes.

----♡----

“hey, kid.” suna’s voice caught your attention as you passed by him in the university corridor. he was quiet, only speaking loud enough for you to hear right as you were walking by.

“hey, rintaro.” you stopped for a moment, refusing to look up at the tall man towering over you.

“i haven’t seen you in a while. everything okay?” he leaned against the wall and clutched a textbook to his chest. “you haven’t even been to class. kinda been missing my project partner.”

“you got my work though, right?” you asked him, partially covering your face with your hair. “i emailed it to you.”

“i did.”

“okay… good.” you cleared your throat, awkwardly shuffling and offering a suspiciously sudden goodbye.

“hey, wait-" suna grabbed your wrist to keep you from leaving. the small amount of pressure more than enough on your deep bruise to make you wince.

suna noticed your pained expression and immediately let go, stepping back.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to hurt you. i just wanted to ask you if-“

“it’s okay!” you interrupted, knowing you’d already spoken to him for too long. you needed to get out of there before anyone noticed. “you didn’t hurt me. sorry, i have to go. bye!”

your behaviour was erratic. your speech was rushed; forced and strained with every word as you tried your best to appear normal.

unfortunately it was much harder to pretend everything was okay than you’d originally thought it’d be.

you quickly turned and headed down the hallway to drop off the assignments to your other professor. the last one you’d have to see for the day before heading home. you were almost there. so close you might not even run into him.

you’d hoped, anyway.

----♡----

after seeing your professor, you walked out into the fresh evening air. the cold stinging your cheeks and the wind pushing your hair out of your face.

your cheeks burned from the freezing air, but it was your black eye was that hurt the most.

“i’m sorry, i just lost my temper.” his words echoed in your head, “you shouldn’t have pissed me off.”

you nodded, essentially agreeing with him. it’s true, if he didn’t get mad, he wouldn’t have hit you. and why was he mad? because of something you did. so really, it was your own fault.

you were the one apologizing to him that night. doing anything you could to make it up to him. all of this with a deep purple bruise forming on your face.

when he finally left your dorm and went back to his, you were mentally exhausted. you fell asleep and woke up right before your second class of the day.

he had started forcing you to miss classes, to do everything at home and only go in to submit your work. this was for two reasons.

the first, you could spend more time with him due to your schedules. if yours was freed then you’d have more time together.

the second was to stop you from talking to other men. completely.

...and then he found out suna was your lab partner.

“i don’t want you working with him.”

“i have to. the professor is the one who chooses.”

“then work from home and submit the stuff online. that guy is a manipulator. he’s dangerous and will take advantage of you. i just know it.”

you’d never gotten that type of vibe from suna, but you obeyed your boyfriend because you didn’t want to know what would happen if you didn’t.

secretly, though, you missed class. you missed working with him. laughing, getting to know each other. he’d become a good friend over the past year and since you had the same majors, you two shared quite a few classes.

he was calm. funny and quiet, but definitely not timid. his energy made him come off tough, but not scary. if anything, he made you feel… safe.

just for those few hours you had together.

and whenever class would end, you found yourself missing that feeling.

----♡----

“i have to go to class tomorrow.” you said, refusing to make eye contact with your boyfriend who’d invited himself over to your dorm.

just like he does every. single. night.

“why? you gonna go talk to that suna guy?” he approached you, giving you a terrifying smile that you know wasn’t coming from a place of happiness.

“yuji… please.” your words were barely a whisper when you felt his fingers wrap around your throat. “my professor told me i need to start going. my grades are falling behind.”

his fingers tapped rhythmically against your skin. dancing skillfully as he toyed with the idea of choking you. you held your breath, expecting the worst.

“you should try harder.” he growled, digging his fingertips into your neck and you clenched your eyes closed. “get your grades back up so you don’t have to spend any more time with that guy.”

“okay, okay!” you grabbed onto his wrist and his eyes widened. “i will! i’ll get my grades up so i don’t need to see him anymore.”

“good girl.” he smiled, the evil expression he’d previously worn had melted away into a false image of a kind man. “always listening so well for me.”

yuji leaned in and kissed you. you kissed back, barely, but just enough for him to be satisfied and leave you alone.

“time for me to go.” he sighed as he heard the dorm advisor do a final walk through to knock on the doors and let the students know it was time for guests to leave.

“see you tomorrow?” he asked, tilting your chin up to look at him.

“sure…” you whispered. you trembled under his touch and wanted nothing more than for him to leave your sight.

“good. it’s a date.” he said happily and gave you another kiss, practically skipping down the hallway back to his own room.

you shut and locked your door, desperately wishing that was the last time you’d ever have to see him.

----♡----

“well, well, well.” suna cooed as you took your seat next to him. “as i live and breathe, i never thought i’d see the day. you finally made it to class.”

you nodded and pulled out your books.

“had to. my grades are slipping.” you sighed, looking around at the science classroom. “what are we doing today?”

“lab day.” suna said as he nudged an instruction sheet towards you. “should we put on our coats and get to it?”

“okay...”

you started to have an internal panic attack. your wrists were as bruised as the black eye you were hiding behind your hair.

suna stepped away to get your lab coats.

this would all be visible, and you didn’t want suna (or anyone) to see any of it.

you nervously approached your professor and she looked up at you with a disinterested stare.

“ma’am, i need to be excused from class today.”

“absolutely not.” she scoffed, “unless you want to fail my class, which i know you can’t afford to do, you’ll stay and do your lab.”

you opened your mouth to reply but she kept speaking.

“go put up your hair, roll up your sleeves and get your lab coat on. you should be thankful you have such a competent partner.” she crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair, “actually, i think the two of you should spend some time together. he’s my top student and you definitely need some tutoring.”

“i don’t think that’s necessary-“

“mr. suna, come up here please.”

suna walked up with a confused look, unsure as to why he was being brought in to the conversation.

“something i can help with?” he asked.

“yes,” the professor smiled, “i’d like the two of you to do tutoring sessions a minimum of twice a week, an hour each time. could you do that?”

“oh, sure. i don’t mind.” he smiled, “was that all? we should get to our assignment.”

you felt backed in to a wall. of course you were okay with this, you enjoyed spending time with suna.

unfortunately, you were terrified of the repercussions.

even worse, there was nothing you could do about it.

when you got back to your table, you put your hair up and silently thought of a plan. keep your head down, don’t make eye contact. maybe he wouldn’t notice.

you rolled up your sleeves and put on your white coat. it was barely long enough to hit your wrists, but did a decent job of hiding the bruises.

the first half of the lab went well. suna explained things in a way that made it easy to comprehend and you were genuinely enjoying yourself.

until you completely forgot.

you began to pour the green liquid into the tube. suna was writing his lab report when he looked up and noticed your mistake.

“oh, hey,” he stood up, putting his hand over yours to tilt the container back up. “you need to pour it slower, like this.”

when it started to pour just as he’d wanted, he let go and you found yourself missing the brief comfort of his touch.

“good job! you did it.” suna smiled and you looked up at him with an excited expression. finally. finally you were getting something right.

when the two of you made eye contact, his smile immediately dropped into a look of concern.

“what happened to your eye?”

“oh,” you stepped back, covering it with your hand. “i fell.”

suna carefully held onto your wrist and you winced in pain. his intentions were to move your hand away from your eye, but he took immediate notice of your reaction and pushed your sleeve down.

the bruises in the shape of fingerprints stained your skin a deep purple.

“what about here?” he stepped closer. you tried to read his expression but he looked completely emotionless.

“from the same fall, i’m just clumsy.”

“and your neck?”

suna pushed back your lab coat to see the same fingerprint bruises scattered around your neck.

you were suddenly thankful you’d chosen the table in the far back end of the classroom. nobody was ever watching.

“yeah.” you said, practically a whisper. “i’m just really clumsy.”

suna leaned down and looked into your eyes.

“why don’t i believe you?”

“five more minutes!” the professor called, interrupting your intense conversation and the two of you snapped back into action.

you finished your lab report and quickly packed up your stuff before rushing out the classroom door.

suna followed closely behind.

“it’s your boyfriend, isn’t it?”

you stopped dead in your tracks and turned around to look at him. suna’s expression was no longer emotionless. he was angry.

“okay,” you sighed, grabbing his wrist to pull him to a secluded space outside. the two of you sat down under a large tree, away from everyone else.

“yuji gets upset with me and… hurts me… sometimes.” you choked out. “i haven’t told anyone because i’m scared of what he’ll do to me. i haven’t left him because i’m scared of him. i’m stuck.”

you hadn’t said these words out loud to anyone, ever, and the way they were flowing so freely had you crying before you were even aware of it.

“please don’t tell anyo-“

“i’ll take care of it.”

you looked up at him. suna looked completely calm, his voice smooth and gaze held on you.

“what do you mean?”

suna stood up and ran his hands through his hair.

“i mean i’ll take care of it.” he smiled, “see you tomorrow afternoon for tutoring?”

“wait, suna-“

“later!” he gave you a passive wave before walking back towards the university building.

----♡----

that evening you waited for yuji to come by your dorm, but he never did.

you waited for him to call you, but he didn’t.

you worried about what suna had meant. maybe he was going to talk to him, maybe even threaten him. you’d hoped he wouldn’t do that, but you really didn’t know what he was capable of.

surely the rumours about him couldn’t be true. an honour's chemistry major being involved in a more sinister, underground group that nobody even knew if it was real or made up?

he was too nice. there was no way.

----♡----

after class you headed back to your dorm to get ready for your evening. suna had asked you to meet him under the same tree from the day before. around 7pm.

you debated on calling yuji, but ultimately decided against it. maybe he’d come to his senses. maybe he was remorseful, and just wanted to move on. to leave you alone and pretend your relationship never happened.

that was what you wished for the most.

----♡----

you stepped out into the cold evening air. the wind blowing softly and brushing the hair out of your face.

you clutched your books to your chest and took a short cut through the back fields separating the dorms from the main university campus.

you checked your phone, you were early. suna would be there in about 15 minutes.

you reached down to grab your phone when it was immediately snatched from your hands.

“you did this, didn’t you?” a familiar voice snapped at you. you glanced up to see yuji, sporting a similar black eye and a bandaged cut on his cheek.

“i- no, of course not!”

he rolled his eyes at your reply, clearly not willing to listen to a word you were saying. yuji grabbed your wrists, forcing you to drop your books and pushed you against the back wall of the university.

“you did. tell me right now. everything you said. who you said it to. and why.” the look in his eyes was horrifying. scarier than any other look he’s given you before.

this made it seem like his previous bouts of anger were nothing but minor inconveniences.

“i didn’t-“

yuji pulled back, immediately hitting your chin with a hard punch that knocked your head back into the concrete wall.

“try again.”

your vision was hazy. mind blurring memories together and you couldn’t even form a proper sentence.

you felt a warm, wet sensation cascading down the back of your neck and were immediately soothed by the feeling. the warmth was comfortable, even though you didn’t know what it was from.

yuji’s hand wrapped around your throat and he pressed his forehead to yours. his fingers dug roughly into your windpipe, causing you to choke out the remaining air in your lungs. you felt yourself get sleepy, closing your eyes and letting darkness overtake you as your body went limp.

----♡----

“hey, wake up.”

snapping fingers in your face had you looking around curiously. you couldn’t focus on your surroundings. it was unclear who was with you, unclear what was happening around you, and unclear why you were there.

the sounds of multiple men. grunting, panting. speaking quietly between deep breaths and harsh exertion.

what were they doing?

“hey.” the fingers snapped in front of your face again.

“what…” was all you could manage to say. your body felt heavy. weak. you were just so tired. all you wanted to do was fall asleep. you submitted to the exhaustion, closing your eyes again.

“don’t go to sleep.” a soothing voice lifted the back of your neck, pressing something soft against your head. “stay awake and listen to me.”

“ya like beatin’ up girls, huh?”

whack

“wanna put a girl half your size in the hospital, for what? to feel like more of a man?”

whack

“a real man would never hit a woman.”

whack

“a real man would beat the shit out of losers who do hit women, right ‘tsum?”

“right. maybe we’ll even put him in the hospital.”

whack

whack

“oh, he’s gonna be there once we’re done.”

you finally recognized the last voice. it was suna.

he spoke again, his voice raspy and dark but still audible from where you were.

“i hope to fucking god you didn’t hurt her so badly that she’s knocked out…” suna trailed off and let out a small chuckle. “because there’s nothing i want more than for her to hear you cry like a little bitch when this blade goes right…”

the sound of yuji’s sudden scream was immediately muffled by what you were sure was the hand of the other man.

“…through you.”

your eyes widened and you were starting to understand what was happening.

all you could feel around you was danger.

you started to hyperventilate. panic was taking over.

“focus on me. come on, we need to get out of here.”

“who…” your head started to hurt now. badly.

“my name is osamu.” he bent down and cradled you in his arms, bringing you close to his chest and picking you up bridal style. “hold on to me if you can.”

“i’m scared…” you whispered.

“i know.” he murmured, carrying you away from the scene and back through the field. “i’ll keep you safe. we need to go to the hospital.”

“what about…”

“the only thing you need to worry about is stayin’ awake right now, okay? it’ll all be okay.” osamu’s voice was soothing. his body was warm and his strong arms supported your body in a way that made you never want to leave his hold.

you gave him a weak nod. even if you wanted to get away, you couldn’t. so you decided to trust in this man and hope for the best.

----♡----

“hey, sweetheart.” the calm voice of a nurse slowly woke you up. “you’re finally awake.”

“where…” you choked out, your throat was dry and you could barely make out where you were. it was all so… confusing.

“you’re in the hospital.” she said as she stood on her tiptoes to change the fluids on your iv pole. “you were assaulted. your injuries aren’t good but you’ll make a full recovery.”

the nurse leaned back down and held onto your hand. “you have a real knight in shining armour, you know. your boyfriend hasn’t left your side since you were admitted. he’s going to be so happy when he finds out you woke up.”

boyfriend?

your heart started to race at the thought of yuji coming in. you looked around, preparing for the worst when you heard footsteps enter the room.

“hey, sleepyhead.”

“speak of the devil.” the nurse smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. “i’ll let you two have some privacy. please press the call button if you need anything, i’ll come back and check on you soon.”

the footsteps grew closer and you heard the squeak of a chair being pulled up next to your bed. you opened your eyes to see suna giving you a compassionate smile.

“rintaro?” you whispered, “what are you doing here?”

“making sure you’re okay.” he crossed his arms, “been here since you were admitted.”

you tried your hardest to remember even coming to the hospital, but you just couldn’t. everything was gone after your head hit that wall.

“what… happened?” you asked, your eyes pleading for him to be honest.

“someone attacked you and your boyfriend.” suna leaned in, “do you not remember anything?”

“i remember yuji being upset with me…” you blinked, your mind working as hard as it could to remember something of importance. “my head hit the wall and it’s kind of fuzzy after that.”

“i see.” suna nodded.

“wait, how did you know i was in here?”

“some people mentioned an attack on campus. i got worried when you were late for our study session, and when your phone rang and you didn’t answer i felt like something was up.” he shrugged, taking a moment to think of his next words. “i called the hospital and asked if you were here, and then came right over when they confirmed it.”

“oh. okay…” you went to scratch an itch on your scalp and were met with searing pain at the slightest bit of pressure. “ow!”

“careful.” he smiled, taking your hand away from your head. “it’s gonna be sore for a while.”

“yeah…” you trailed off, trying to make sense of the situation. “what happened to yuji?”

“why do you care?”

“huh?” you glanced at suna who’s expression had turned sour.

“why do you care about what happened to him? he could've killed you.”

“i just wanted to know if he…” your voice was shaky and you tried to compose yourself. “if there was a possibility of him coming after me again.”

“not a single chance.” suna leaned over the railing of the hospital bed and took your hand. “besides, even if there was, i won’t let anything happen to you.”

----♡----

you’d found out yuji had suffered from severe injuries almost taking his life. he was beaten, stabbed, and his spinal cord suffered so much damage he was permanently paralyzed from the waist down.

while you were relieved the abuse would be over, you constantly wondered who had assaulted him.

you remembered telling suna and him saying he’d take care of it, surely that wasn’t him, right? there was no way suna could do something like that.

----♡----

months went by while you recovered from your injuries. you’d been discharged from the hospital after 3 weeks, and suna had stuck by your side every day.

“i’m happy to say you’ve essentially made a full recovery.” the doctor smiled, shaking your hand. “i’m so proud of your progress. you’re truly a walking miracle.”

“what about my memory?” you asked, “when will i remember what happened?”

“oh, you might not ever remember. you hit your head hard and from what we gather, you were unconscious.” the doctor stood up, clutching his clip board before walking out. “it’s probably for the best that you don’t remember what happened. you should focus on moving on, now. take care.”

----♡----

“well, should we celebrate?” suna asked as you walked out of the hospital together. you stopped, causing him to turn and look down at you. “what’s up?”

“i just wanted to say thank you…” you said, feeling your face getting hot. “i don’t think i could’ve done this without you.”

“you could’ve. you’re the strongest person i’ve ever met.” he leaned down, brushing the hair out of your face. the same hair that used to cover the deep bruises, now showing your true complexion. “and the most beautiful.”

you felt your heart flutter at his sudden compliment. suna’s hands found your waist and you instinctively draped your arms over his shoulders.

“you really mean that?” you asked, looking into his eyes.

“of course i do.” he smiled, leaning in to give you the long awaited kiss the two of you had been dying for. his lips were soft and you melted into his arms. he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. “beautiful in every possible way.”

you felt tears well up as you were being complimented. the sweetest, kindest, most handsome man touching you so delicately and speaking to you with nothing but respect.

you'd completely fallen in love with him, and it was everything you ever could’ve asked for.

----♡----

a few weeks after the two of you made it official, your honeymoon phase was in full force. you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. you were experiencing your first true relationship that made you feel loved and you cherished at every moment.

one evening, you decided to go to suna’s dorm to surprise him.

knock knock

“rintaro?” you called out, opening the door to let yourself in. “are you home?”

“in here, baby.” he replied from the kitchen. he was sharing an apartment style dorm with two other men, but you hadn’t met them yet. they weren’t ever there when you were.

“we finally get to meet your girl, huh?” one of them cooed as you walked in. he had dyed blonde hair and smirked at you as you walked by. “damn, she’s a looker, huh ‘samu?”

samu… why did that sound familiar?

“don’t be such a pig.” the other boy replied. you realized they were twins when he stood up and walked over to you. he smiled, holding out his hand. “nice to meet ya, i’m osamu.”

osamu.

no.

“my name is osamu…”

it couldn’t be.

“…hold on to me if you can.”

no, no, no.

the memories of the night of the assault came flooding back to you.

it only took a moment to realize...

...it wasn’t a random assault at all.

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

Note: this was a commission I got from a supporter on ko-fi. I hope that you’ll read it with the same enjoyment I had while writing it. If you want to commission or support me check the pinned post or the hyperlink, you’ll find all the details there. If you have questions, my DM is open 🤗. Also, your comments are always welcomed.

Promt: Wesker forgets about the reader’s birthday.

Pairing: Wesker x F!Reader

Word count: 2K

Type: fluff.

Wesker placed the samples with care on the table, starting his day as usual. He’s been spending his last few years, stuck in the lab researching all over again in order to achieve the wanted results. Since Uroborus is a high importance plan, he’s very meticulous about his schedule, respecting every minute precisely. Not a minute early, not a minute late. The only thing that he tries to put outside his schedule is you because he doesn’t like limiting the time he spends with his sweetheart. He cares so much about you that over the years he sees you as his equal, so he plans to inject you with the progenitor virus, a weaker strand because he can’t risk killing you. Because of this, he wants to do it on a special day, but the many opportunities that arrived didn’t fit in his schedule. The greatest gift he ever received was the power he got after breaking the confines of humanity, so he wants you to experience the same joy. Wesker kept thinking about it but he would get distracted by his work, so his present would always be in the planning stage. He doesn’t want to do it suddenly, he wants to introduce the idea slowly to you because he respects your boundaries.

Once you earned his respect, Wesker can be a very carrying partner, human even. He knows every little detail about his sweetheart, from her birthday to what she last ate. It can seem creepy when you put it like this, but this is nothing more than a lover who deeply cares about his partner and seeks to make her happy. Wesker is not the greatest at showing it though because of his work life. He has little to no time to show his affection. He still shows you that he is there for you, but not as much as he wants, making him more frustrated. Sometimes when he comes home from work he is so tired he barely sees you, let alone talk with you. He either collapses on the couch or bed and falls asleep as you talk with him because he is just too exhausted to carry the conversation. This doesn’t sit right with him because he gives all of his attention and energy to his work and doesn’t have any left for the only person that matters to him, making him wonder if it’s all worth it.

The relationship didn’t have a great start, since you expected Albert to be with you at least 8 hours a day but you’re lucky if you catch him once a week. He’s not the type to express himself and constantly expects others to read his mind, so you two would end up fighting. You have mistaken the lack of presence as rudeness and indifference, basing your reasoning on all the rumors you heard until you realized they were all stupid. Wesker proved to be the contrary, talking so nicely to you and not belittling you at all even if you piss him off. The amount of respect this man offered you even from the beginning is astonishing. He was so transparent with you and with all he does and he had so much patience until you understood. He was just a working man with probably burnout syndrome, so you took the responsibility to take care of him.

His phone buzzed since he started his work. Calls, messages, idiots without brains, as he calls them, needed help doing their job. When he had enough he picked up his phone and started to scroll down through notifications. Some of these people make him curse like a sailor, especially the one who texted him the most. As useful as Excella is in helping with his projects, as annoying she can be. Hundreds of messages and calls, some related to work some not. A particular question caught his attention.

“Do you think y/n would like this?” A picture of a purse was attached. Excella can’t stand you for obvious reasons, but out of respect for Albert, she tries to be friends with you. Still, why would Excella buy something for you out of the blue?

“Is something special today?” He thought.

The horrifying grimace when the realization hit cannot be described. Today is indeed a special day, your birthday. To be honest, he doesn’t care about birthdays. He despises them because they are a reminder of our mortality, but he knows how much you care about such occasions. Every year you got him something even if he insisted not to buy anything for him. Seeing you care and how much you enjoy receiving gifts he changed his mindset. Usually, he would give you something common, just as others would, but then he began to put more effort until there wasn’t anything material in this world to give. That’s how the progenitor virus gift arises in his head. However, he’s been so caught up with his research on Uroborus that he completely forgot to make the preparations. You don’t feel the days pass when you’re stuck in a lab all the time. He puts the phone aside, grabs his coat, and rushes out of the building ignoring the people that are trying to talk with him. If not the virus, he will have to find something common.

He’s not a fan of last minutes gifts but he has no choice. The guilt crushed him further as he remember he hasn’t talked with you all day. The ride to the jewels store felt like ages, even if it was relatively close. Luck was on his side since he found the store open.

None of the jewelry in front of him caught his attention because it wasn’t something he hopes of giving you. He already buried you in gold. You have the finest, unique, and expensive jewels in the world. He wouldn’t have been injected you in a lab of course. He wanted a special place for your rebirth. All of his ideas were put on paper, but probably got lost in the pile of reports. All he wanted was to see you smile on the most important day of your life, perhaps looking at him with the same eyes as his. He wanted to make you feel as you were the center of his universe, his queen, but he failed miserably. Maybe if he had gotten any outstanding results today he wouldn’t be so upset, but it was just another ordinary day. The lady tried talking with him but he was lost in his thoughts. Knowing it’s late and that you’re waiting for him, he bought a pearl necklace and left in hurry. On his way home he tried thinking of what to say, what excuse would be the best but he concluded that all of them were outdated.

Before opening the door, he hid the small package in the inner pocket of his coat. That lady was in hurry to close the store and didn't want to wrap the necklace if gift wrap. Wesker will remember that.

“I’m home!” He shouted once he entered. He may screw up, but he is not a man who runs away from conflict or a man who doesn’t own his mistakes.

“I thought you’d spend the night in your lab.” She said while giving him a peck on his cheek. “You need a vacation dear, you’ll be worn out before your time”

You were so carrying with him, so kind, but he couldn’t enjoy it. He didn’t deserve your kindness.

“There is something I need to tell you.”

“About?” You were starting to get worried. He left in hurry this morning and you didn’t hear anything from him all day. Excella told you briefly about him, but she talked more about the purse she bought for you which was more for her taste, not yours. Judging by his face you realized he had something on his mind, but you would never think it was because he forgot about your birthday. You expected him to talk about an outbreak rather than your forgotten birthday. To your surprise, he started apologizing.

“I was so caught up in my work I-“ he considers apologies a waste of time since we could do better things with our mortality and limited time, but for a reason, humans care about these.

“It’s alright my love.” You caress his face as a reassuring sign. “I understand.” You’re not upset at him. He genuinely cares about you and you can’t judge him, not after all the good things he has done for you. And besides, you know he doesn’t fully mean it, but you appreciate that he still does it for the sake of your feelings.

You began to caress his cheeks, to place small kisses all over his face. You see him rarely so you make sure to show him how much you love him as well. You hug him and he instantly hugged you back. After a while, you broke the hug and lead him to the couch so you can talk about each other’s day. He’s thankful you both moved on.

Eventually, you two got more comfortable. You let all your weight fall over his body as his strong arms were wrapped around your torso. His big hands were caressing your back while you found your peace in that small, almost suffocating, clasp. You almost fell asleep when a gentle squeeze woke you.

“I almost forgot.” He said, almost whispering, before handing you your gift. “It’s not what I had planned, but I hope you’ll find it enjoyable.”

Hazily, you took the small box Albert handled to you. It was a normal, jewelry box with the logo of the store on it. Inside there was a beautiful, shiny pearl necklace. Your delicate fingers touched the pearls with care, feeling their gritty texture and small bumps here and there. It weighs heavy in your hands. You fell in love instantly with the accessory. Seeing how happy you are, Albert offered to put it at your neck. Its elegance enhanced your natural beauty. It looks like it was made solely for you, like an extension of your body.

“I bet it was a lot.” You said with a somehow sorrow in your voice. You don’t want Albert to spend heavy money on you, because it’s his presence that you enjoy and value the most.

“Don’t worry about it, I like spending money on you.” And it was true, he loves dressing you in the most expensive clothing to flatter your body. You’re a goddess to him. Not to mention it strokes his ego to know that he’s able to provide such beautiful things to you. “At least this is what I can do.”

“And it’s perfect this way.” You can see him relax a little.

“I’ll make it up to you, I just need some time.” Time, mortality, death. Once again he was reminded of his plan that was supposed to fix humanity's greatest flaw, and his expression suddenly changed. That didn’t get past Y/N’s attention.

“Albert sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, some problems I need to solve.”

“Are they urgent?”

“Yes, very.”

“I’m sure they can wait until tomorrow.”

He scanned your body carefully. You weren’t getting any younger. Time left its mark on you. Not in an unpleasant way, but still noticeable.

“There something I need to tell you.” He said while sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you how you admire your new necklace. In the lights of the vanity mirror the pearls shine brighter, being more appealing than before making it impossible to take your eyes off them.

“What is it?” You said while gazing at your own reflection.

He choose his words carefully, but no matter how he put them, it could scare you. It’s not the time or the place. He doesn’t want to ruin your happiness. His actual surprise might not sit well with you, but it’s not your choice after all. If he considers it the best option for you he will do it regardless of your opinion. Still, this day came out better than he expected.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Tags: @xx-sectumsempra-xx @residentzero2028 @heisentitties (dm if you wanna be in the tag list)

[lucycola]

Hey could you do a Spock X reader where she knows nothing about Vulcans and like keeps accidentally doing taboo things e.g touching hands or touching his ears

I thoroughly enjoyed writing this! I accidentally made it gender neutral, because I forgot what pronouns, you used. I’m sorry! I hope you like it.

WARNINGS: Fluff, affection, ignorance of affection in Vulcan culture idk. Maybe Spock is slightly OOC but who cares. I took a little liberty of giving the reader a pinch of background.

To say you were oblivious was an understatement. You weren’t a complete idiot, or anything, just innocently scatterbrained. Perhaps that was the explanation why you didn’t flinch when every you were chastised for a mistake or given a strict order by your commanding officer. As a blue shirt, you fell under the command of the Enterprise’s first officer, and his reputation as a stony, unfeeling, authoritarian preceded him. You were never bothered by this. He was most terrifying, others noted, when Captain Kirk left him in charge when unable to take the chair. You were warned about him-to never cross him and always do exactly as he said. Spock was a hard-ass. He was handsome and perhaps at first you wondered, but it had been made clear to by others he wasn’t interested in anyone.

You had met more terrifying people. You had nine brothers and a strict, often unfair and bully of a father. Commander Spock was a piece of cake. It was in your nature to be gentle, welcoming, and comforting despite the constitution of your upbringing. It was your personality. You didn’t like to let people bring you down.

You were elated alone to be living your dream, anyway. You weren’t going to let the attitude of anyone around you affect your nature or happiness.

You obviously didn’t know anything about Vulcans either.

The first touch was accidental. It always is.

You never took the Vulcan to be clumsy, but on one occasion while discussing your current assignment in passing he dropped his holotape. You both reached  for it, and in a cliché manner brushed hands. While your boss pulled away, you did not and picked up the tape.

“Here ya go!” You cheerily patted the tape in his hand for good measure, “I’ll have that report in the morning like you’ve requested, sir.”

Bypassers gawked as you cheerily skipped away. Your commanding officer only quirked a brow and went on his way.

The next time was less on purpose and more out of your kindness as your commander internally lamented about his captain’s safety during an emergency situation. He had donned the chair and even while appearing composed and direct you had an eye for spotting worry in well kept men. In an brief moment you pressed your hand to his wrist and said softly, “He will be okay. You’ll make sure of it.”

He tensed under your touch and you removed your hand a smiled.

“Report to your station, Ensign,” he said in his usual tone, no hint of distaste or approval in his voice.

“Yes sir.”

The third time was even worse. Somehow you had been suckered to prompting Spock by Doctor McCoy into reporting to an impromptu physical. Confidentiality be damned, the Vulcan’s stress levels were unusually high and it was affecting his demeanor. You accidentally overheard the nurse and the doctor whispering something perhaps about pon farr happening again, but no it hadn’t been seven years yet. Whatever that was.

“I don’t think he’ll listen to me, but if you say it’s important, I’ll try.”

“You’re his favorite, so you’re my best bet.”

“Mister Spock doesn’t have favorites,” you laughed, “But I’ll do it anyway. Someone has to draw the shortest straw. I never mind it being me.”

“Thankyou, Ensign. And good luck.”

You skipped along to the your commander’s quarters. You had never been inside and only rarely had delivered your reports to him in person when requested. He couldn’t always come to you and that was understandable.

At the chime the door slid open and though it was subtle, your boss clearly wasn’t expecting you.

“Hello, Mister Spock,” you greeted, “Doctor McCoy-”

“I am aware of the doctor’s request. As it is not mandatory  I do not find it necessary to attend.”

It wasn’t like him to interrupt you. He was tense and though he stood perfectly erect like a statue there was a little shake in his right hand. Without thinking, you grasped it to still the quiver.

“Are you alright?”

Many would expect his to snatch it away, but he didn’t and stood there. If he was caught off guard, it wasn’t apparent. His expression was unmoving and his eye contact never wavered.

“I am fine, Ensign. Report back to your duties.”

“Doctor McCoy said it was important.”

“I am not here to entertain the doctor’s every illogical human whim.” He pulled his hand away, “There is no empirical evidence to suggest I am ill.”

“You’re shivering.” You put your hands on your hip and gave him the most mothering look you could muster.

“Multiple factors such as the natural low temperature of deep space can illicit such a reaction,” he retorted.

“It’s broiling in your cabin, Mister Spock. Only people with fevers do things like that.”

“Humans, Ensign. Humans,” he corrected, “I deduce you are not aware of Vulcan biology or customs.”

“Please don’t lie to me,” you requested softly, “How am I supposed to work efficiently under an ill commanding officer?”

The way you spoke nearly convinced him to do your bidding, but still he remained stubborn.

“I do not comprehend how that would deter your work efficiency.”

You grabbed his hand again, “I am going to worry myself to death if you really are ill and you’re just trying to act like you’re alright. That will keep me from working like I’m supposed to. Efficient crew needs an efficient captain.” You winked at him.

“But Captain Kirk-”

“It’s a metaphor, Mister Spock. Now please come so the doctor can stop paging me and I can work on my report concerning the Althenian plant’s healing properties and various uses from its sap.”

“I yield,” he said after a small beat and without releasing your hand, followed you to the medbay. More people inwardly gawked watching to drag him down the hall. His face was tense, albeit slightly amused.

After reaching your destination you waved him and the doctor off sweetly and made your way back to the lab. You heart wrapped around the thought of him being ill and you hid that worry ill. A little heat bloomed in your chest at his previous touch. You brushed it away. No, you told yourself.

The doctor was only a little surprised. His suspicions were confirmed.

“I had my doubts at first, Spock, but now I see it’s true.”

“Despite Vulcan’s telepathic abilities, I cannot automatically read your mind. Elaborate, Doctor.”

The doctor chucked, “That ensign is your favorite.”

“I do not understand.”

“Who else could have convinced you to come here to let me scan you? Probably not even Jim-”

“I am inclined to follow the captain’s every order.”

“You don’t let anyone touch you like that. Especially not for a long time. If I’m not mistaken you two were practically kiss-”

“That will be enough elaboration, doctor. Please proceed with your medical assessment, as I have much work to attend to.”

The doctor chuckled again. “It’s too bad I can’t tell with that one. They act like that towards everyone.”

“Everyone,” Spock repeated flatly although it was intended to be a question.

“Sweetest soul I’ve ever met. Lights up a room as soon as they enter it.”

“Indeed,” Spock nodded, familiar with the colloquialism.

The doctor’s eyebrows raised and he grinned, “I knew it.”

You of course were oblivious to all of this as you continued through your work, happy as a clam.

After some deliberation one of your coworkers decided to explain the delicacies of Vulcan culture after viewing a friendly hand grasp as a greeting between you and your commanding officer. You were elated to see his shivering had stopped and once again he tensed under the touch, but nodded his head at your greeting. You had blushed while doing so. It was sweet, but your coworker had to break it to you as they had before when warning you last time about him not being interested in anyone.

“Vulcans don’t like to be touched, you know,” they said to you, taking you aside.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re very sensitive to skin to skin contact. They guard themselves mostly, but hand touching is extremely taboo the way kissing in public or other sexual acts are.”

“You mean...” you blushed, “I’ve been--! I hope he’s not offended.”

“Normally he’s not afraid to explain things or clear up-“ you coworker coughed,”-unwanted affection. I’ve seen plenty girls get a talking down to.”

“What are you saying?”

“Perhaps he’s forcing himself to be polite.”

“Oh, I’ve got to apologize right away!”

You felt so stupid! How could you be so offensive to him or his culture? You should have read up on his customs before truly interacting with him. It would seem like a smart thing to do-but you were so lost to the world it was embarrassing.

You paused in front of his door for the first time in your life, afraid to speak to him.

The door open quickly and you stepped back, surprised. He had looked like he had been going to leave and you sheepishly smiled, “I’m sorry for interrupting you, sir. I need to speak to you.”

“Come inside.”

You blushed at the request, wringing your hands as you entered.

You turned to him and blurted, “I had no idea what I was doing, sir, I swear. Had I known that touching you was wrong I would stop. I’m so used to being touchy-feely on Earth I forgot that not everyone-”

“Ensign,” he said firmly.

“Yes?” you squeaked.

“Had those interactions provoked me I would have made it known. I should be the one offering an apology. I should have explained what such interactions mean on Vulcan before anyone else claimed the opportunity. I assume someone took the liberty of doing so.”

“Yessir. I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize.”

“Why not?’

“Because your actions did not provoke me, but precisely did the opposite.”

“What-what do you mean?” Your face was fully red and you obscured it with your hands. He let out a sound that was the closest Vulcan thing as a sigh and stepped closed to you.

He grasped your hands and lowered them from your face. His eyes were soft and the most vulnerable as you had every seen them.

He pressed his right hand that was shivering terribly to the side of your face. It stilled instantly.

“I am aware of your affection for me and I return the sentiment.”

You couldn’t find your voice and after a long moment of studying your features he leaned down to give you a kiss, warm and firm.

You gasped into his lips and pressed back.

He released you and you looked at him starry eyed.

“So it was true, what the doctor said, you said in a hushed tone.

Spock’s arms were around you gently, “Elaborate.”

“I am your favorite.”

“Affirmative.”

FIN

[internalsealpanic]

Stiff Peaks and Soggy Bottoms

mood board by: @knightfall05x​ (wuv you)

summary: You, Tim, and Kon try to bake. It ends well. 

A/n: Thanks to @littleredwing89​ and @multifandomgirl-us​ for proof reading. I was watching Kitchen Nightmares while writing this. I am surprised how fluffy this came out. You can blame my need for more poly and this piece by @symeona​. I have not shut up about this piece 50 years later (Hi Sym *waves*-Fish). I forgot to mention that reader is more or less gender neutral or I attempted.

warnings: Terrible cooking

masterlist

Kon yawns, scratching at his broad chest and running his hand through his tangle of curly black hair. He blinks one eye open successfully to the dim light flooding into the end of the hall likely coming in from the living room. The lights dance, glowing softly with faded color against the dark glossy wood of the floor. 

 Kon’s first sleep-addled thought is, Oh, Aliens. Ok, cool.

 It takes his brain a full minute to realize how much that doesn’t make sense. The apartment is dead silent, lacking the telltale whirring most spaceships give off when they’re hovering, the sounds of nervous fingers tapping against a stack of papers echoing in the mostly empty space. Kon strained his ears trying to focus on the other sounds flitting in the room. He can hear the steady calming beat of your heart come off rhythm, jumping a fraction of a beat faster. It wasn’t fast enough to say you were in danger. It was just fast enough to tell that you were extremely engaged in whatever was occupying your attention. Kon thinks it over. The last time he checked looking over papers- lab reports, especially- was the bane of your existence. He listens again. This time making out the voices coming from the TV. Kon wasn’t awake enough to understand what they were saying. 

 5:47 AM

 Kon groans trying his hardest not to laugh while he stares at his phone. You are an actual psychopath. Who wakes up at 5 AM? Villains that’s who. Did you even sleep? Why do you and Tim hate sleep so much? 

 Stepping into the living room as quietly as he can, he finds you huddled against the right side of the couch far away from the TV, your thick wool comforter draped over your head and shoulders making a fluffy tent. Strands of your messy bed head sticking out and swaying as you rock on your heels. Your stack of papers long since abandoned on the arm rest beside you. Kon can’t help but smile at how adorable you looked, still sleep rumpled and red-nosed from the cold. 

 Eyes glued to the TV, you pull up your knees to your chest revealing your fuzzy Red Robin socks. Kon frowns then makes a mental note to get you some Superboy socks later. You curl deeper into your comforter, easing and pressing into the armrest. All of your apprehension fading and relaxing as the rest of the world melted away. Kon smiles devilishly at your inattention. He tiptoes towards you which was entirely unnecessary because it didn’t matter that Kon was about as stealthy as a disco ball not when all of your attention was directed at the TV. 

 Kon launches himself at you too quickly for you to even react or comment or throw a pillow at him. You shriek as he lands on you, his muscular body squishing you into the couch. You wince hoping the neighbors didn’t hear. You’re not too worried about Tim waking up considering how tired he was. 

 “Morning, gorgeous.” Kon greets, winking and wrapping his arms around your waist. The audacity. You groan attempting to glare at him. He simply gives you a dopey smile. You have to blow out a raspberry to keep yourself from smiling back. You strain your lips into a flatline. The crow’s feet at the corners of your eyes betray you though. The corner of Kon’s mouth twitches, those big baby blues shining even in the dim light. He knows he’s won you over. 

 You’re too petty and sleep-deprived to give in. You roll your eyes at him, lips still wobbling and tingling from the effort of maintaining your unimpressed frown. Still, without resistance,  you shift the comforter and refold yourself to accommodate his intrusive form. Large arms wrap around your waist tighter as he lays his head in your stomach. How he finds this position comfortable for his neck is beyond you but you do appreciate the warmth. Kon’s smile widens as he looks up at you. It looks positively smug. Your nose scrunches up bracing for whatever Kon is about to say. 

 “Aw, baaabe, it looks good on you~” You look down at the oversized Superboy hoodie you’re wearing which was two times bigger than it needed to be as was standard of your hoodies.  You mutter a curse. Kon had been pestering you to wear it. It’s not that you didn’t want to. It’s just that you had a soft spot for the Impulse hoodie Bart got you a few years ago which meant it was your got-to-hoodie despite the fact that it was fraying.  It was in the wash so you decided to give this one a try and honestly, it is really fucking comfy and more importantly warm.  You huff at him, feeling your cheeks color. You glare at him, his dopey smile still plastered on his face. You make the executive decision to ignore him. 

 This decision does not last long. 

 About two minutes into your silent treatment, Kon whines and pouts weaponizing those baby blues. “Aw come on, gorgeous, you can’t stay mad at me forever.” He nuzzles into your stomach tickling your drawing a smile out of you. He grins at you and finally, you let yourself smile back fully. “Asshole.” You grumble.  He knows you can’t resist him when he’s being cute and calling you ‘gorgeous’. That is just plain cheating. Still, you relent. You wrap your arms loosely around his shoulders, running your hand gently through his dark hair allowing your fingers to tangle in his curls. The arms around you tighten a little pulling you closer to him. 

 Kon doesn’t need a reminder of how absolutely adorable you are but it is very much appreciated. Kon loves looking at you as the soft glowing colors flash across your face highlighting your features and softening them. In the dim light of the room and under the blankets, you press closer to him all the sharp edges of Gotham's alleys stripped away leaving you sleepy-eyed and very huggable. Between you and Tim, you were the one people pointed to when they thought Gothamite but that was the fun of it. He and Tim, they were the only ones who got to see this softer you. The you that you let get enraptured by hobbies and dumb little things. Kon held you close, relishing your presence. This was the version of you they got to keep for themselves and he wouldn't trade it for the world. 

 -------

 Tim shifts feeling either side of him vacant.  Tim rolls over, arms searching for either you or Kon as his mind catches up. The warm sunlight brushes over his skin as he rolls over once again, stirring him from his sleep. Tim blinks, eyes adjusting to the morning light. 

 9: 10 AM

 He groans, shifting up and burying his head under the pillows hoping to once again fall asleep. 

 “Oh no no no no!”

 “Shush! Don’t jinx it!”

 Tim’s eye cracks open.  He lifts his head a bit tilting it to find the bedroom door open, your voices filtering in like dust in a sunbeam, pleasant but ultimately not helpful. 

 “I can’t jinx a pre-recorded show, genius!” 

 Tim sighs. Sleep was, inevitably, lost at this point. Tim debates on whether to keep himself under the covers and finally be able to hog the thick blankets. Or he could, possibly, investigate the commotion happening in your shared living room and risk freezing. Sadly, he chose the latter. 

 Blearily, Tim searches the room for a shirt only to find one of Kon’s discarded on the floor. Well, it’s not the first time he’s borrowed one of Kon’s shirts. 

 Tim wasn’t surprised to find you out of bed. After all, the idea of sitting still ate you alive. You were always, always the happiest when you were in motion when your hands were working to make something like some part of you was constantly vying for the chance to be something instead of just being. Tim completely understood the feeling. 

 Kon had once accused you of being a workaholic when in truth at the moment you had been avoiding work by doing one of your side projects. He had also accused both of you of being sleep allergic which is probably true but at least, Tim’s drink (read: poison) of choice was tea and not a cocktail of monster energy drinks and misery. 

 It was odd to find Kon out of bed though.  Kon could laze around in bed for days if you let him, so his being up was worth investigating if only to make sure the apartment didn’t burn down.  

 “Look what you did!”

 “It’s prerecorded, jackass!”

 “You cursed him and gave him a soggy bottom”

 Tim can tell just how long you’ve been glued to the T.V. based on the way your vowels slant to mimic that of the hosts. Tim’s slightly chapped lips curl as he shakes his head at the way you and Kon cock your heads towards the T.V., attention completely captured by what seems to be a cooking show. You held your breaths, waiting for the judge to say something. Kon shifts up, leaning his head against your shoulder.  Your limbs were tangled loosely against each other. It was a rare, lazy sort of affection that never failed to make Tim smile. 

 “Ok, no. That’s just mean.” You huff into Kon’s hair, looking absolutely petulant and cute. Tim works to stop an ‘aaaaawww’ rising from the back of his throat lest you throw a pillow at his head. 

 “Babe, it’s Paul Hollywood. What were you expecting?”

 “Human decency. She worked hard on that.” You whine, genuinely looking upset. 

 Seeing, your reaction Kon relents burrowing himself closer to you for comfort. “True.”

 Tim turned his attention to the T.V.. What he found made his brow shoot up. 

 “Great British Bake Off?” Tim asks, sliding into your left side and placing his head on your shoulder. There is a reason you guys bought an L-shaped couch. Said reason was named Conner Kent who liked laying on top of people. Those people being either of you. Tim snuggles into your side, earning him a kiss on his nose.   His nose scrunches feeling itchy. He lets out a small sneeze into the back of his hand. You blanch at him while Kon snorts, throwing him a box of tissues from the coffee table. 

 “Mornin’, Space Case.” You mumble giving him another kiss, this time on the corner of his lip. Tim blushes,  his face brighter than the sunlight outside your window. Tim is, sadly, incurably adorable.  

 Kon smiles at both of you smugly for what neither of you has any clue. Not until you see what Tim is wearing and not until Tim sees what you’re wearing. You groan and Tim blows out a  breath through his nose while Kon presses his positively glowing smile into your hoodie. He’s not going to shut up about this anytime soon or ever. 

 “Do you two even know anything about baking?” Tim asks, crossing his arms over his chest and smoothly changing the subject. 

 You and Kon share a look. 

 “Nope”

 “Yes”

 “Microwaves and watching this show doesn’t count.”

 “Ooook, fine. I don’t. Buuuuuut considering none of us can-”

 “I can cook.” Tim defends, clipped. You roll your eyes dramatically. Kon smirks, also doubtful. You flicker your eyes to Kon to meet his and with the brief contact, you know you’re on the same page. 

 “Microwaves don’t count, Tim.” Kon shoots back, pulling himself off you so he can show Tim the full extent of his Cheshire smile. You can see Tim drawing his hackles up, so both of you, being the little shits you are, continue to goad him. 

 “You can cook in theory,” You drawl, letting the challenge embed itself into the syllables. Tim cuts you a look. You simply look at him innocently. Tim  knows  that you’re baiting him. He definitely knows this and yet…

 “Fine!”

 “Fine?” 

 “Fine. We’ll even make something from the show!”

 “Even chocolate eclairs?” Kon says a little too eagerly. You were just gonna say meringues but chocolate eclairs sound fantastic.

 Tim throws up his arms and exasperates. “Sure! Why not?”

 You and Kon share a dopey smile, smug and preening as you look at him. Tim groans, placing his head in his hands. He knew this would happen. He knew. You and Kon high five and make a little “yeah!” noise in celebration.

 This will not end well.   

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

 You twitch your lips staring down at Tim’s phone, deleting and retyping the message for the third time. You weren’t  sure  how to explain this without having Jason falling to the floor laughing. Your eyes stung from the smoke so you decided to just send him your third try. 

 Tim: Hey Jason, theoretically, say your oven caught on fire like via laser beam or something, do you just pour water on it?

 You wait a few minutes, watching the three dots indicating he was typing only for him to stop typing without replying. You make a small noise, which was thankfully lost to the bickering behind you when Jason’s phone number flashed on the screen. You’re always nervous about talking to Tim’s family. Tim had once assured you that you were overthinking it but still. To be fair, it was easier than dealing with Kon’s. Actually, no. No, it wasn’t. Both were intimidating but in very different ways. You do have to say that Jason, scary as he was, was easier to approach than say Bruce. 

 “Baby bird,” Jason says, the edge of a wheeze gripping his throat. Clearly, having just recovered from laughing his guts out. He breathes, hand slamming against what you suspect was either a kitchen countertop or a workbench or both knowing Jason. “Ok, ok, I’m good-” He clears his throat. “Kay, tell me what happened.”

 You flick your eyes toward the fire and your boys who were more or less still bickering, their voices tangling with the crackling of the flames. You’re mildly surprised that neither of them is on fire but you’re not holding your breath. They’ll probably be somehow combust in the next five minutes. You love them but they’re disasters.

 “We were trying to bake- shut up-” Jason does not snort any quieter. “And well, Tim thought-”

 “It was Kon’s idea!”

 “You let me!” Kon defends sounding utterly betrayed. 

 You groan and Jason snickers.  “What do we do?”

 “Have you tried apologizing to it?”

 “Jason, I’m being serious.”

 “So am I. Now, apologize.” You sigh exasperatedly. Waynes are assholes. 

 Tim raises a brow at you and you give him a shrug not really knowing what to tell him. “Apparently, we need to apologize to the oven.” You deadpan, immediately regretting even relaying it. How have you never decked Jason? It wasn’t fear. After all, you’ve decked Batman. Ok, in your defense lack thereof, that one was by accident or moreover reflexive. 

 “Hey Kon”

 “Both of you have to apologize too!”

 “First of all, I was in the bathroom getting towels when you two chucklefucks decided to use laser vision to preheat the oven.”

 You hear Jason fall out of his chair. Distantly, you hear someone calling Jason an idiot but you weren’t too familiar with the voice. You instantly thank yourself for not turning on the camera considering what state you three were in. Kon was covered in chocolate, your hair-as well as your poor phone- was caked in batter, and Tim? Tim was covered in everything but mostly flour which keeps making his nose twitch like a rabbit. Though, you wouldn’t be surprised if Kon’s already taken a few pictures. You yourself have taken a few.  

 “Ok but seriously what do we do?”

 You hear some rustling and a chair squeaking back into place. 

 “No…”

 “First off, did you close the oven?” Your eyes flicker to them. Placing Tim’s phone between your shoulder and ear, you mime the advice. Tim frowns skeptical but Kon kicks the oven closed anyway. 

“Ok, it’s closed now. Should we put water in it?”

 “NO. Have you never put out a kitchen fire before? How do you three eat?”

 “We live in the middle of downtown, what do you think?”

 Jason sighs disbelieving and finally sounding appropriately exasperated. You could see him running his hand over his face.  “Who let you three live together?” This made your lips twitch up. “I dunno. Kon and I just started mooching on Tim and then suddenly we each got a key to the apartment.” It was an oversimplification of events but there was a fire and you had to get at least one joke in. 

 “Do your neighbors have- Wait, don’t you have a Kryptonian clone with freeze breath?”

 You blink and slap your palm against your forehead. The other two seemed to get what you had just remembered and act appropriately with Tim looking defeated and Kon finding the situation hilarious. 

 “Thanks, Jay.” You mutter wanting the Earth to swallow you whole. Esme, your chubby rat, squeaked nuzzling against you as she wormed her way out of your hoodie. She may or may not have been the primary reason for the size of your hoodies. She smiles at the phone, wide-eyed and happy as if she could see Jason. You hear a soft laugh coming from Jason’s end. 

 “Is that Esme?” Your brow ticks up not quite sure how to answer. “Uh yeah.” You answer dumbly, giving Esme little scritches that she leaned into happily making all her little happy noises.     

 “Give her a cuddle for me.” You give Esme a kiss on her nose and she snuggles in reciprocation. Kon pouts face still full of chocolate, “Where’s mine?”

 “You’ll get one once our apartment isn’t about to burn down.”   

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

 Fresh out of the shower, you plop down next to Tim letting your wet hair flop onto his face and his fuzzy Wonder Girl sweatshirt. Tim huffs at you taking another bite out of the hot fresh-ly ordered stuffed crust pizza. The cheese was still gooey and molten. It made your stomach rumble like nobody’s business. You whine childishly trying to get Tim to hand you one. He looks at you, mouthful of pizza, and grabs one only to hand it to Kon. You gasp at him. You stretch your legs over their laps in protest only to retract them immediately after Kon pokes at your feet a couple of times tickling you. 

 You hide behind Tim, glaring at Kon and sticking your tongue out. Tim, the traitor, moves out of the way letting Kon’s long arms capture you. You shriek almost sounding like Esme as he pulls you in sitting you in his lap. You sigh in defeat as Kon places his chin on your head. You don’t even want to see the triumphant smirks on both their faces. 

 You grab a slice and through the mouthful of cheese and grease, you murmur “We really need to learn how to cook.” Tim hums in agreement, leaning against Kon, aka the cuddliest heater in the world. You lean back into Kon as another signature bake is brought up to the judges. You all watch with bated breaths as you wait for the results. 

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

 You marvel at the fresh ingredients laid before you and the posh man standing in your kitchen rolling up his sleeves. 

 “Hey, Duckie, are we in trouble?” Kon whispers from behind you. He’s got your back, he said. 

 “Kind of?” Tim bleats, his voice a little high. 

 You snort raising an eyebrow at him hiding your smile behind your hand. “Timmy, what does kind of mean?” 

 “I can hear you.” Alfred deadpans. You and Kon stiffen.  You’re pretty sure even Tim straightens up, probably out of habit. 

 “Do any of you know how to cook?” Alfred asks in the primmest sounding accent you’ve ever heard. 

 “Nope, we live downtown for a reason.” You snark reflexively. Tim glares at you and hisses silently.  You shrink and mutter an apology which Alfred takes graciously.

 “I am assuming you don’t then. Well, it’s lucky that I have a free afternoon.”

 Tim eyes him suspiciously. “What happened to B?”

 “Your father can take care of himself.”

 “You sure?”

You think you see Alfred smile at that. 

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

Thanks for reading!

tag list:  @batarella , @anothertimdrakestan , @lucy-roo , @multifandomgirl-us , @idkmanicantenglish ,@birdy-bat-writes ,  @boosyboo9206 , @americasmarauders , @l-inkage @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay , @wunderstell

[what-the--curtains]

In a Week

Part 2/4 - The Importance of Being Idle

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

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

Summary: Things get easier between you and Frankie as the storm outside rages on.

Authors notes: Hello! Sorry this took so long (I forgot I had a lab report due this week so I was busy panic writing 6000 words the patient few days!) anyways this is soft makes my heart happy 🥺 thank u for all the support in the story💕💕

Tw: Swearing, dead sibling mentioned (I think that’s all)

Work count: 4.9k

Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi

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

Day 2

You don’t know when,or how it happened, but sometime during the night you had found your way over to the heat being emitted from human furnace Frankie Morales. Your limbs were wrapped lazily around him, with your leg over his and your arm resting idly on his chest. You blink into the light emitting a dissatisfied grumble realizing you had woken up. You hear a sigh from above and with one eye still closed, you tilt your head up to see Frankie currently hyper focused on winning whatever game he was playing on his phone.

"You could have woken me up you know.” You say, detaching from him and rolling over onto your back rubbing your eyes. “How long have you been awake?" you ask, yawning.

"Few hours, you’re quite the sleeper, slept through all 4 alarms that went off." He responds, still fixated on his phone.

"Shit, sorry about that. My mother used to say I could sleep for England" you state, earning a soft chuckle from the man beside you. Even after years of working on hospital hours, waking up was always a struggle for you, no matter the time of day. After a few moments of contemplating whether you really had to move, you rip off the covers and scoot out of bed. Tearing open the curtains you let out a dissatisfied groan when you see a snowscape where the parking lot once was. You turn around arms crossed, eyes glazed over inadvertently boring into him. You hear him say something but it doesn't register.

“What?” you ask, shaking yourself from the trance and moving towards your over packed bag to retrieve clean clothes.

“Nothing.” he says, eyes back on his phone. You raise your eyebrows and head into the bathroom to get changed, emerging in sweats and a vintage band shirt that you’d tied at the waist.

"The clash? Nice." Frankie says, as he passes by you into the bathroom, closing the door.

"Ya London Calling" you respond sitting down on the bed and pulling on some socks, not fully listening to what he had said. "I’m going to ask the front desk if we can renew the room, doesn't look like we're going anywhere anytime soon. I can see if there's another one available if you don’t wanna share" You say, when you hear the doors lock click open, knowing he may still be mad at you for not pulling over sooner.

"I mean I don't mind sharing, unless you’d be more comfortable..." he starts, mouth hanging open downturned slightly, as he rinses his hands.

“I’m fine sharing, nice to have some company plus it's cheaper this way.” you say, grabbing the room key off the nightstand.

"Let me know how much it is, I'll pay half" he says, stretching out his back, cursing the mattress for being too soft.

"I feel like you should be paying more since you get the good half of the bed.” you offer, pointing your finger at him.

“I think they call that extortion,” he says, grinning “Oh, see if they have any food while you're down there I’m starving” he calls as you exit into the hallway and make your way downstairs.

“Hey, I was looking to re-book the room from last night” you say to the receptionist who you recognized from last night. Suppose she got stuck here as well, you wonder if she’d gotten any sleep.

“For how many more nights?” she asks.

“How long do you think this storm is going to last?” You ask.

“At least a few more days, but then the roads will have to be cleared, so maybe a week? We can book you in for two more nights then go from there though, no one else will be coming in”

“That’d be great,” you say, taking out your credit card. “What about food, is there any way we can get some stuff to make sandwiches or something?” you ask

“Well the culinary staff was trapped here by the storm, another reason why so many rooms were booked, so they’ll be able to have food sent up.” You nod, the hotel was upscale and you hated to think how expensive the food was going to be, but what choice did you have?

“It's past breakfast, but we may have some spare sandwiches leftover, let me just go check.” she offers, returning a few minutes later with a couple of boxes.

“Thank you so much!” you say taking the boxed up food from her.

“Anything else I can help you with?”

“Oh yes” you say, “booze, can I buy that here?”

“That, we have plenty of!” she smiles.

~~~~~

You re-enter the room with the boxed up breakfasts, a case of beer and two bottles of wine

“Here food” you say, sliding the boxes off the beer and onto the counter next to the fridge.“We missed breakfast, so it’s probably cold, and I booked the room for another two nights, but we can go from there” you say, reiterating the receptionist's words as you place the drinks in the fridge.

“Planning on sharing that or?” he laughs watching you strategically maneuver the booze into the fridge

“Hey, I get a week off work, I'm going to be drinking. Do I wish it was on a beach in sunny south Carolina? Yes, but this will have to do, and I hate drinking alone so congratulations you’ve just been conscripted” You say, as he empties out one of the breakfasts onto a plate placing it in the microwave for a few minutes.

“Here. Do you want this? You say peeling the sliced ham off your sandwich” waving it infront of his face.

“Not a fan of ham?” he asks, taking it and adding it into his own.

“Not a fan of meat in general, I’m a vegetarian”

“Course you are.” he laughs.

“Bold words coming from a guy wearing a baseball hat inside, in the middle of winter” you say, throwing a balled up napkin at his head.

“So what exactly do you do? Santi never said.” he asks, leaving you to question what Santiago had said about you.

“I’m a doctor, well almost a doctor one more year of residency, hopefully” you say, crossing your fingers.

“Shit, aren’t you kinda young to be a doctor?” he asks, looking you up and down with raised eyebrows.

“Older than I look, but thank you. How about you?”

“I was a pilot, me and Pope served together for a while, but I’m mainly just teaching now. How’d you two meet by the way? I’ve never seen you round base before, I’m sure I’d remember you hanging around” he says.

“He basically lived at my house growing up, well until he went into the military when I was in middle school. ”

“I thought you said you weren’t young” he laughs “So you didn't serve?”

“No, my brother did though, he was a few years older than Santi but they were inseparable.” you state, preparing yourself for the imminent conversation.

“Who?” Frankie asks, slightly offended that Pope had a secret best friend he never introduced to him.

“His name was Parker '' you say, hoping the past tense clues Frankie in.

“Ya I’ve met Parker! Good guy what branch is he in these days?” he says, not picking up on your word selection or how your mouth hangs slightly ajar or how your eyes have gone vacant.

“Was in” is all you say, you avert your gaze staring down at the floor “he passed five years ago in active duty”

“Shit, I’m sorry I…” he stumbles over his words trying to form a coherent sentence.

“Not your fault how were you supposed to know, besides I'm sure you’ve lost your fair share of people.” you say offering him a not very convincing, but reassuring smile. You let the awkwardness hang in the air, not wanting to speak first.

“What... kind of doctor are you?” he says, hoping to cut the tension he’d caused.

“Medical, diagnostics.” you say, exhaling as the easiness you felt around Franki came back.

“So like House?” He asks.

“Ya cane and all.” you laugh, his lopsided grin having returned to his face, as he leans in to grab your plate.

“Hey, I uh.. I need to make a phone call.” He says, washing the dishes in the sink.

“I'll make myself scarce, give you some privacy. Is it fine if I'm in the shower or did you want me to fully vacate the premise? I can go down to the gym for a bit.” you offer.

“Showers perfect.” He says, mentally questioning his word choice there. He waits to hear the water run before pulling out his phone and dialing his mother who was currently watching his daughter for what was only supposed to be a few days.

You let the water wash over you turning on some music to drown out the conversation Frankie was having, not wanting to pry on his personal life. You did find yourself wondering who he was calling just simple curiosity, nothing else. You had decided you liked Frankie despite the rocky start, the more time you spent with him the more you felt like you'd known him for years. You could see why he and Santiago got along so well they were two sides of the same coin, his calm nicely balancing out Santiago's rashness. Or should you call him Pope? What kind of nickname was that, and Santiago was anything but a saint. You made a mental note to ask Frankie for the origin stories later he may be more forthcoming about it than Santiago. Lathering your hair you close your eyes, allowing Frankie’s image to come to the forefront of your mind. He had an old beauty, a kind of beauty that was suited to a ruler of a long forgotten empire. You begin to feel the water run cold, had you really been in the shower that long? You turn off the tap and dry yourself off redonning your sweats and tying the Clash shirt into a crop. As you exit the bedroom you’re met at the door by Frankie who hands you a cup of coffee.

“Thanks” you say smiling up at him.

“Take it as an apology for being an ass yesterday, I was tired and shouldn’t have thrown a tantrum about it, you don’t control the weather”

“Well I guess I should apologize as well for not listening to you, especially considering you’re the one with training in navigating radars.”

The rest of the day is spent in relative silence breaking into conversation every once in a while about nothing in particular. You sit on the couch reading while he sits in the chair across from you book in hand as the news plays faintly in the background. The storm had been dubbed “snowmageddon” by the anchors, not particularly innovative but it got the point across, 20cm had fallen and another 30 was being predicted you groaned internally thinking about how long it was gonna take you to clear off your car. At least you'd have military help. Dinner comes and goes and he doesn't ask you many questions, unsurprising considering how the last conversion had turned out. Instead you tell him about the weirdest cases you’d ever seen come through the hospital and he tells you about the incidents that got him and Santi sent to the hospital.

“Alright I'm going to turn in” he says, as you look up from the rabbit hole you'd currently found yourself stuck in.

“Shit ya good call” you say closing your phone and rubbing your eyes. Once again he beats you to the bed, giving him a prime position to watch in amusement as you dig through your bag.

“Lost something? Seriously, how deep is that bag? What are you looking for?” he inquires.

“Normal pyjamas” you mutter, all concentration currently being used to find something appropriate to sleep in.

“What pray tell are normal pyjamas?” he asks, a confused look plastered across his face.

“Let's just say a certain king of sleepwear was packed for someone who was suppose to be at the wedding”

“Who?” he asks.

“Ah ha!” you cry victoriously, pulling out your day-to-day sleepwear. You exit the bathroom in the silk sleep set you’d gotten a few years back. Frankie’s eyes widen slightly when he sees you emerge, the pyjamas leaving little to the imagination. If those were your normal pyjamas he didn't want to think about what the other ones were. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable by coming off as a creep. Which he was already feeling like by ogling you as you bent over the sink spitting out your toothpaste. His eyes dart down to look at his hands as you walk around the bed to bed, only looking up once the covers are pulled up over you. He turns off the lamp and settles into the mattress, placing his hands on his chest and closing his eyes.

“Please for the love of god, stop moving” he mumbles after 15 minutes of patiently waiting for you to stop wriggling. Your eyes open as you shift again, completely aware of how annoying you must be to him.

“I know I'm sorry, I‘m just..” you move one more time, balling your fists up and slamming them into the mattress in frustration.

“Not comfy” he finishes for you, eyes opening staring up at the ceiling.

“Ya especially since someone took my side of the bed” you bemoan.

“Look, you’ve already slept wrapped around me once, so you can... do it again. If it’s the easiest way for you to sleep.” he says hoping the offer comes off as sincere, and not weird. You chew your lower lip for a second before accepting the fact that it was the only way you’d be able to sleep. He lifts his arms above his head allowing you to position yourself comfortably on top of him, before lowering them down. One hand on his stomach and the other wrapped around your shoulder.

“Don’t even think about trying...” you start, eyes batting sleepily up at him.

“I know you don’t know me well, but i'm not like that. It's not good or fun unless everyones fully and consensually on board.” With that you ease into him, trusting his words. Breathing deeply you drift off to sleep to the smell of clean laundry that you’d come to associate with Frankie.

Day 3

“Hey I'm going to the gym if you need to make a call or whatever” you say, pulling on your sneakers, feeling refreshed from the good sleeps you’d had the past two nights.

“Thanks,” he says, watching you leave before calling to check in on his daughter.

“Hey mom how is she? Good good ya, put her on would ya? Hey darling how are you! Yes I'm going to be home soon. Were just stuck in a big snow storm, did you see it? I wish you were here then we could build a snowman together! Yes just like Elsa and Anna. Yes we can watch them when I get home and absolutely I will try and save you a snowball. Alright, okay, I love you.” He says, a few minutes was more than he’d expected from the kid, toddlers aren’t known for their keen telecommunication skills after all.

“Hey mom, thanks again for watching her. This storm came outta nowhere. We're going to miss the wedding, I know they’re gonna be pissed. That’s not a swear Mom! No, I'm not alone. One of Santis friends she's a doctor. Yes, I mean I don’t know! Why does it matter? Look, I'm hanging up now. I am. No I won't be doing that I love you, I'll call later.” he hangs up shaking his head. Despite what everyone around him thought, the last thing on his mind was dating, his kid was his number one, scratch that, his only priority especially since her mother disappeared in the night. Leaving nothing but a note about having other reasons to live. Whatever the hell that meant. He hears the key unlock the door and watches as you re-enter, not stopping to make conversation, bee-lining straight for the shower. Knowing he’d have a good half hour to kill he dials his phone again.

“Hey Pope” he says, taking the opportunity to call his friend and deliver the bad news.

“Hey ‘Fish where the hell are you guys?” he shouts from the other end, evidently in a crowded room.

“Trapped by the storm, we're not gonna make it.”

“Shit Gen’s gonna lose it, and Stella if it wasn’t for her four sisters Y/N would be in the wedding party they were roommates for years.” He stresses.

“Damn, ya man i'm really sorry, she's in the shower, but I can pass the phone to her when she's out?” Frankie offers.

“No man, don't bother her. I'll text her in a bit. Hey you guys sharing a room?” he questions, the agenda behind it obvious.

“Wasn’t much of a choice, rooms were all booked up.”

“You're sleeping on the floor I hope” A protective tone taking over.

“You know my back’s bad Pope.” he explains calmly, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

“Catfish you better keep those hands to yourself, she's not one of your nightly conquests”

“Man I haven’t been like that since my kid came along” He chuckles, knowing full well that those days were long behind him.

“I'm a serious ‘Fish, she's too good for you, and she's in no place to be fucked over by another guy alright?”

“Look I know she'd never go for me Pope and I'm flattered you think she would. Glad i'm still handsome in your eyes.I’ll call you later” he laughs, ending the conversation on a lighter note.

“Hey” you say, pulling your Boston University sweater over your head, drying out your hair with a towel.

“Pope says hi” Frankie says, hanging up the phone

“What's the nickname mean?” you question, ready to get to the bottom of it.

“That's top secret information” he taunts, shaking the phone at you.

“Oh I'm sure I could figure out a way to get it out of you.” you smirk, raising your eyebrows

“Hey! I have military training!” he exclaims, offended at the insinuation.

“Militarys got nothing on me.” you retort, slapping him on the shoulder as you pass by.

“Well, if the plan is to ply me with alcohol, it may just work” he confesses.

“Perfect” you say, heading to the fridge opening up the wine bottle “let the games begin” you say tossing him a beer bottle watching as he uses a lighter to open it before bringing it to his lips.

“So tell me what does Pope mean?” you ask after a few hours of meaningless conversations and playing a drinking game that went along with the forensic files repeats you were watching. “Is it a dick thing” you whisper yell, causing Frankie to burst out laughing.

“Why? You wanna know what it looks like?” He asks forehead creased the trace of laughter still etched on his face.

“Ew No! but I am asking if it looks like a Pope?” you say trying to hide your amusement with a stern look.

“Which Pope?” Frankie asks in an equally serious tone, curious as to where you were going with this.

“Francis?” you ask.

“Nope” He answers after pausing for a moment.

“Fred?” You ask, now entrapped in a bizarre game of guess who, but in reference to what holy figure most resembled your friends penis.

“Was there a Pope named Fred?” He asks unsuccessfully, stifling a laugh.

“Probably? There were like three Popes at once at one point in time.”

“No his dick doesn't look like the Pope, now can we please stop talking about my best friend's penis!” he exclaims.

“Fine, but this isn’t over.” you say chewing your lip trying to think of other possible explanations when a phone ringing interrupts you thought.

“Shit, Sorry I have to take this,'' he says, pulling out his phone and walking to the next room, forgetting to close the door, leaving you to inadvertently eavesdrop on his conversation.

“Good night sweety I love you to the moon and back I'll be home soon.”

Your eyes go wide as you feel your stomach sink, of course he was married, he was too nice, too easy, something had to have been off. A ick comes over you at the thought of being unknowingly draped over a married man, and you suddenly begin questioning Frankies motives.

“Sorry about that. It's my daughter she uh, I didn’t say goodnight to her last night and she missed it” he says with a slight chuckle, pride evident on his face.

“How old is she?” you ask smiling at how he lit up at being asked about his kid.

“Three” he says, grabbing another beer and grunting slightly as he sits back on the floor next to you.

“Good age” You offer, shaking off the feeling of betrayal and disappointment that had come over you for a brief moment.

“Ya she's perfect” he beams.

“I bet, I mean I don’t know what your wife looks like, but if she's got your eyes watch out world.” You offer turning to face him only to see that his smile had faded, replaced instead by a somber hurt.

“Her mothers not in the picture” He says, clearing his throat and taking a long drink.

“Shit Frankie I'm sorry” you say quickly, feeling like a prize idiot for making assumptions about his character.

“Hey I brought up your dead brother, only seems fair you bring up my ex who abandoned us.” He says with a shrug. “Don’t, don’t look at me like that” He says, shaking his head and knitting his brows together tired of being looked at like he was broken. It was horrible when it happened. It was fucking shitty that she had left her daughter without a care, but now? Hell, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. Watching his daughter grow up was worth it.

“Fuck” you say, scrunching up your face “I hate when people do that to me.”

“You need another drink?” he offers, hoping to ease the sudden awkwardness into the room, one he was accustomed to after telling his dates about his kid, not that this was a date.

“Ya I need it to wash the taste of foot out of my mouth” you laugh, feeling worse than when your brother was inadvertently brought up.

“Seriously don't worry about it. Speaking of a palette cleanser you wanna watch a movie or something?” he says pouring the rest of the wine into your glass, before grabbing another drink out the fridge for himself.

“Ya but it's gotta be horror, the only thing i'm in the mood for.”

“Didn’t think bringing up my ex was that scary.” he laughs, handing you the glass.

“No, but talking about Santiago's penis was.” You deadpan, causing Frankie to snort out his drink. “What? Do all the girls say that about it? A real nightmare?” you continue, giggling as he coughs through a laugh. “Was it the inspiration for the creature from the black lagoon?” for some reason the stupid bit your doing causes Frankie to double over subsequently encouraging your own laughing fit. After the ache in your side subsides Frankie sits down on the couch next to you. Using his sleeve to wipe any spillage from his beard.

“Any preference?” you ask, leaning your head back against the couch. He shakes his head. “Alright, the Conjuring it is! I gotta pee first though, need anything before we start?” you ask, walking towards the washroom.

“Just you.” he calls out, as the door closes behind you. Fuck, why the hell did he say that. He shakes his head at how desperate it sounded. Jesus christ, he was embarrassing.

You were just tipsy enough that the bathroom's bright lights made you feel wobbly. You cross your arms as you pee, thinking about the words you’d just heard, about how he needed you. Well maybe that was a reach, but it was okay to pretend just for a night? In all honesty, even though this wasn't a date, it was definitely the best time you'd had with a guy… ever, something about him was just so easy. You flush the toilet and open the door washing your hands, hotels were so weird, why wasn't the sink in with the toilet? You felt like you needed to wipe the handle down after every use.

You flop back onto the couch next to him, closer than you’d been when you left, but leaving enough space between you. After a few jump scares that catch even the pilot off guard the two of you found yourself snuggled into each other. You knew the movie was getting to him, because the arm wrapped around your shoulder pulled you closer into his side whenever the ominous music began to play. He wouldn't say the movie was getting to him per say, it was just in his nature to protect others. Even if it was just a stpid movie he wanted to make sure you felt safe. After the movie ends you quickly separate from each other and clear up the glasses, leaving them to ‘soak’ overnight. Frankie gets to the bathroom first, again. Thirsty, you wander back out to the kitchen grabbing a glass and filling it with water jumping when you think you see a shadow move out the corner of your eye. It was strange, how you loved horror so much while watching it but the second it turned off, any sounds, or hat rack or shadow scared the living daylights out of you. At least this time there would be another person with you. After getting ready for bed you switch off the lights and make your way to the bed.

“What are you doing?” Frankie asks, watching you lift up the bedskirt peering under the bed. “Are you seriously checking under the bed right now?” He laughs, unable to get over how you, a medical professional was afraid of ghosts.

“Better safe than sorry!” you exclaim eyes wide as your head pops up.

“You can't believe in this shit can you?”

“Hey man you get sleep paralysis then tell me that shit isn’t plausible” you respond pointing a finger at him, before pushing yourself off your knees and up onto the bed.

You crawl under the covers and sit up parting your hair to braid it before going to bed.

“Can I ask you a weird favour” he asks, you panic slightly, fuck he was too good to be true, no way a guy was that sweet without an alterior motive.

“Yes, but proceed with extreme caution” you say.

“Can you teach me how to braid hair? I want to be able to do my daughter's hair but I’m pretty terrible at it. Her teacher once asked if she'd gotten caught in a bush on the way in.” Your heart jumps slightly, at the sincere revelation. How, how could one guy be this sweet, and thoughtful and not creepy?

“Of course I can show you.” you say and you proceed to give him a step by step tutorial, followed by a demonstration prior to actually letting him have at your hair so he can try and replicate the motions. Once he got the motion down you’d mistakenly tried to show him how to french-braid it down from the top.

“Be honest doc, how bad is it.” He says.

“Well, maybe we shouldn't have tried a french braid quite yet.” you say laughing feeling the matted mess currently on your head. You turn upon hearing him groan, watching as he leans back into the pillow bringing his hands up to hide his face.

“For someone who's a pilot i'm shocked you can't do this.” you say, hand reaching up to salvage your hair.

“Are you judging me?” he says, sitting back up when he sees you struggling to untangle the mess he’d made.

“Maybe a little.” Your breath hitches when you feel his hand grazed against yours. You drop it to the side upon contact allowing his fingers to work gently at removing the knots.

“Are pilots supposed to be good at braiding?” he asks.

“I just assumed if you could weave in and out of the sky you'd be good with your hands.” you laugh as he frees the last of your hair from the prison he'd made. He watches as you effortlessly put your hair back up into tidy braids.

“You make it look so easy,” he says.

“Well practice makes perfect, but look on the brightside, now you have a sure fire pick up line that'll work on all the MILFs youll be dating!” you exclaim turning back to smile at him.

“Malo '' he mutters, pushing your shoulder slightly as you giggle, dramatically falling back onto the bed and pulling the covers up over you. It doesn't take a moment before you're back around him, breathing silently, and fast asleep. He wasn’t far behind you, he never used to sleep well in hotels, or at all really, not after the mission, but something about this place made it easy. He's sure it's nothing to do with the idle hand on his chest or the rhythmic beating of the heart belonging to the person draped over him.

[btsmakesmehappy]

Sweet Scent | 2

Genre: Agent au. Colleague au. Mutual pining. Angst. Fluff. a little thriller.

Pairing: Agent!Jungkook x Forensic Doctor!reader

Word Count: 5,6k

Rating: 18+ (M)

Warning: Shy boy Jungkook. A lot of flirting and teasing. Mention of death (murder case). Threats using human organ (Not explicit)

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |  completed

Summary: Why does he always look so nervous in front of you? Is it because of your excessive flirting? But how come you don’t tease him when he looks so incredibly cute every time he blushes?

Series Masterlist: The Company

A/N: wew, It took me longer to write this. Thankyou @arizonapoppy​ for cheering me up and beta reading this story. and again: this writer doesn’t know how agents work.

Send me an ask if you want to be added in the taglist!

The smell of coffee sneaks into your nose, waking you up. You open your eyes slowly, stealing a glance at your watch on your wrist. 8.13 am.

Immediately you sit up on the mattress, stretching your body. You blink as you realize Jungkook is standing in front of the coffee machine with his back to you. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” you ask groggily, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. It’s so weird how your throat feels so dry when you only sleep for an hour.

Jungkook turns away from the machine and walks over to you, handing you a cup of hot coffee. “I did, fifteen minutes ago. But you didn’t even move a bit. You were literally sleeping like a log there.”

You hum as you drink the coffee. It’s weird how the coffee is perfectly to your taste, but that’s not important right now. “So what do you need again? I told you that I’ll call you as soon as I get the lab results, right? I swear, if you want that right now, I am gonna-”

“No. That’s not what I want right now.” He walks to your desk and sits on the chair, facing you. The nervousness can be seen in his doe eyes. “I think we also need to check the victim’s belongings again.”

You sigh and take a big gulp of coffee. “Fine, but let me finish checking the specimens first. I am afraid they will be damaged if I don’t work fast.”

The corners of Jungkook’s mouth perk up. “Thank you. That’s fine.”

You rise from the mattress and walk over to him, putting one of your hands on your hips. “You are asking this much and I only got a hamburger?” you pout.

Jungkook’s eyes wander anxiously, avoiding your eyes. He lets out an awkward laugh as he sips his coffee. “What do you want then? Pizza?”

“What about dinner? Preferably date-style?”

Your suggestion makes him choke in his coffee. A faint blush painted on his cheeks. “Wh-what?” his coffee drips from his chin to his shirt, leaving a trace of black liquid on the blue shirt. You are almost sure that it will leave a stain.

The panic he showed seems like a rejection to you and it somehow leaves a sting in your chest. You reach his shoulder and pat it lightly. “Just kidding; I am okay with that hamburger. And well, this is my job also.” You laugh awkwardly as you grab your lab coat. “So let’s get to work then.” You walk to the lab beside your office as you tie your hair into a bun.  

Jungkook watches your receding back as he takes a deep breath. Your scent is still lingering in the room, the scent of lavender mixed with something musky. Relaxing and intoxicating. He always wonders what makes you smell like that, how unique it is that he can notice it with just a small whiff. How your scent is so you.

The scent that makes his hands turn clammy. The scent that makes his heart beat faster. The scent that always takes his breath away.

Thankfully for him, you didn’t ask him any further. Never occurred in his mind to go on a date with you. Just the thought of him being with you in the same room has already bothered him so much, he can barely think. If only he would admit that deep down he wants to go on a date with you. And just like that, gratitude turns into regret.

You let out another sigh as you massage your sore neck. The smell of substances fills the lab, all mixed together, making you nauseous. And the lack of sleep doesn’t help either. “Do you remember anything from the crime scene? Anything could help.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “You can’t find anything?” he asks. Jungkook lets you work by yourself as he watches you from afar. Not because he wants to stay as far as possible from you and the conflicted feelings you give him, or because he’s already felt comfortable sitting at your desk, but he doesn’t understand any of it and he doesn’t want to disturb you. True to be told, he loves seeing you working.

You shake your head weakly. Maybe it is because of your lack of sleep, your brain is not functioning well. You silently regret your decision for doing this alone. This is literally going nowhere.

“Good morning, guys!” A man dressed in what seem to be plaid pajamas enters your lab suddenly. “Geez, Y/N! Could your face be anymore tired?” His smile plastered on his face, in contrast with your own face.

You roll your eyes. “Fuck off, Tae.” It’s one of Taehyung’s traits that you dislike, how his bubbly exterior just somehow gets on your nerves, especially in times like this. Not that you hate him. Hell no. He’s an amazing friend. He might be the first agent that you’ve become friends with, but only God knows why whenever you’re with him, you just feel tired after. You really think that he’s absorbing all of your energy into him.

He lays a brown bag on the table and gives you a light hug. “Cranky. Did Jungkook make you stay up late?” he says, winking to both of you.

Jungkook stutters as the blush creeps on his cheeks. “Wh-what. Well I sort of did…” You shoot Jungkook a glare to stop him from saying anything that would make Taehyung make fun of both of you, which makes him cough awkwardly. “But that’s not.. anyway, why are you here, Hyung?”

Taehyung chuckles. “I’m just dropping off some pieces of bread from my girlfriend. She wants to say thanks.”

“Woah, thank you so much, Hyung.” Jungkook’s eyes twinkle as he walks faster to the bag. “I don’t think she’ll return to the bakery this fast.”

“Hey, my girlfriend is a strong woman! Although I also hope that she takes a day off. Anyway, just share them with Y/N, okay?” Taehyung waves and walks to the door. “I’m going to drop this other bag of bread off for the others, and maybe help them too. I don’t think Jungkook would want me here.” Taehyung says as he smiles meaningfully to him and walks away.

“Hyung!” Jungkook whines, his face is reddened.

You giggle at Jungkook’s antics. “Why don’t you want him here, Kook?”

His eyes turn shaky with you looking directly into his face. “No reason.” He avoids your gaze again. He rummages through the brown bag and pulls out a piece of bread. “Just eat some if you want to.“

He bites his bread and slowly chews it. Today, he is eating a piece of cream-cheese and almond bread. It is his most favorite bread from the bakery, Palate Cleanser.

It is a bakery that Taehyung has been talking about for several weeks. Not only does it belong to his new girlfriend, it serves delicious bread. Sure, Jungkook has never been a picky-eater, but he loves it. So after Taehyung gave him a tester, he became a new loyal customer of that bakery. Well, the bakery is just a few blocks from the Company too, so it is rather convenient.

You are still working with that huge-ass machine that whirrs like a washer. He perches on one of the desks,  while he watches you from behind. And suddenly he smells something.

A smell that is familiar to him.

A smell that he noticed when he was in the crime scene.

"Do you smell this?”

You turn your head to him, confused. “Huh, what?”

He hops off the desk and walks around. “This smell. I smelled it in the crime scene. What is it?”

His statement perks your interest and you take a big breath. “I don’t smell anything.”

Jungkook takes a bigger sniff. “It’s there. Why can’t you smell it?”

“Well, sure that bread of yours is smellier than you think. I can only smell your bread.” You shrug as you turn again to face the machine.

“What?” Jungkook looks at the bread in his hand and takes a sniff at it. His eyes widen as he is realizing something. “This is it. This is what I smelled. Well, kinda.” He yells as he pushes his bread to you.

You raise one of your eyebrows as you hesitantly sniff his half-eaten bread. “This sour thingy?”

“What? No! It is the cream-cheese. What I meant is this bittery smell,” he picks some pieces from the bread and hands it to you after he smells it.

Your eyes widen as you see what is in Jungkook’s hand.

Almonds.

“Cyanide…” you whisper.

Jungkook tilts his head. “What?”

You walk quickly to the computer. “It must have been it. It just makes sense now.”

“Cyanide? Why can’t you smell it too?” Jungkook asks as he follows you from behind.

“There’s only a handful of people that can smell it. It is not specific, actually. Oh my God, I totally forgot about it.” You tap on the keyboards and hit the enter key. “Yes. It is cyanide poisoning.”

Jungkook looks at the screen, “so he was poisoned?”

You nod. “Yes. I need to check his toxicology report first. Will you tell Jin about it?”

“Got it. I’ll tell him and get a warrant to search the hall.” Jungkook walks quickly and grabs his phone from his pocket. He taps his phone to call and puts it on his ear. Jungkook stops in front of the door and turns back to face you. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You clear your throat. “Just go already!”

After Jungkook leaves, you still have the weird feeling that has accumulated in your chest from proximity to him. Just a mere sentence from his mouth is enough to leave your chest in turmoil. It took you just ten minutes to finally function normally again.

Well, you are lucky enough to find out the poison as soon as you did. If you had let the body lie in that room without any investigation, the evidence could have been lost. You wouldn’t have found the truth.

Still, after you know how he was killed, your work doesn’t get any easier. There’s no other trace of cyanide in the victim’s belongings.

It’s another roadblock.

That’s why you have been dialing Jungkook for the thirteenth time. And in the midst of your fourteenth call, you decide to end your call sooner. It’s no use calling him right now.

You close your laptop and gather all of your lab papers. After making sure that you have everything, you walk out to the door to find Jungkook. The sooner you finish this work, the sooner you’ll go home.

You hop into the elevator with much difficulty, given your full arms. Why didn’t you use a bag for all of your stuff? Your elbow hovers next to the “7” button, and after a moment you resolutely bump it.  Your mind wanders. Was this the right idea?

Well, why wouldn’t you?

This floor is for elite agents only. You have never stepped foot on this floor until now. It is not that you were curious, but you know that this mission, or rather this case, is an important one. If Jungkook wanted the report as soon as possible, then he should want it as soon as possible, right?

It’s your job.

It’s not because you want to see Jungkook.

It is not.

At the sound of the “ding,” you step out of the elevator. Which way to his desk? The floor is huge and there’s no map or anyone who can help you. It’s Sunday, after all. You close your eyes to sharpen your hearing, but you still can’t hear anything.

You sigh in defeat as you shuffle your armload of paper to reach into your coat pocket to find your phone. Your fingers have just grazed it when you are jostled by someone bumping into you from behind. You barely avoid spilling your report file and you turn around to face the one who has collided with you.

“Oops. Sssowry.” A skinny man with fair skin apologizes as he bows to you, slurring his speech. The fumes of his breath threaten to pickle you like one of your cadavers. His eyes are kinda reddish, too. Still, his walking posture is as you saw him in the past, ignoring the fact how he has turned this giddy.

“Min Yoongi?”

He raises his eyes to meet yours as he straightens back up. He squints, trying to remember your face. “Oh!” He beams. “You are the hot forensic doctor. What’re you doin’ here?”

Your cheeks feel hot as you hear the awkward nickname. Sure, you know that your appearance is above average, but that doesn’t mean that you deserve that name. You let out an awkward laugh. “I’m Y/N. I need to see Jungkook, he didn’t answer my call…”

Yoongi nods in understanding and points to a blue door with his thumb. “He must be at the meeting then. I’ll let him know, or you know what, just come along, I’m already late too.”

You raise one of your eyebrows, but still walk behind him closely. “Is it okay? I don’t want to disturb the meeting.”

“Nah. It is actually about your case too, so what’s the harm?” He knocks the door rhythmically and after hearing a permission he goes in. Yoongi’s eyes travel to the young man sitting in the corner. “Jungkook-ah. You got a visitor.”

Jungkook raises his eyebrow and sneaks a glance to the door. When he sees you, his eyes turn wide in panic. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” He stands up quickly and walks toward you.

You smile awkwardly. “I called you several times but I got no response so here I am.” In the silence, you finally look around. There are five other men sitting around the conference table looking back at you and Jungkook, intrigued. The tension in the room gets less serious than before as you look around the meeting. “Sorry, guys, for interrupting.”

A smaller man with plump lips sends you a mischievous smile as he nodges Taehyung’s elbow. His eyes turn into crescent. “Nonsense! Great to see you again, Y/N.”

“Hey, Jimin. Long time no see. Sorry, it won’t take long. I just need to hand off this report.” You set your case file on the meeting table and start searching for the report you mentioned before.

“You can join us, if you want. It will be helpful, too.” Jin, a wide-shouldered-man, the leader of this mission, speaks without looking up from the laptop in front of him.

“Yeah! Join us. It sucks to only see these brats all the time.” Jimin says as he indicates an empty chair.

You clear your throat awkwardly. “Sure, if you say so, but I think I’ll go grab my other stuff too from my office. I also think I left a machine running.” You take a few steps back as you laugh dryly. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, I’m coming with you too.” Jimin rises from his seat and follows you.

The meeting room turns silent as Jimin closes the door behind him, there is only the sound from the projector on the table.

Jungkook freezes, not knowing what to do. His eyes just stare at the spot where you stood before. This action somehow attracts the attention of the older agents as they all share knowing glances between them.

“You know, Kook. If you really like her, you should just say so,” Taehyung says as he smiles softly to Jungkook. He props his chin on his hand, studying Jungkook’s response.

Jungkook’s doe eyes widen and turn shaky with the sudden suggestion. His cheeks turn bright red. “Wha-what? No. I don’t like her. I mean, I don’t like her like that…”

“So it’s okay if Jimin likes her then?” Yoongi speaks up abruptly, making all of the other agents turn his head to him. The agents hide their smiles and then turn again to Jungkook who is looking more nervous than before, anticipating his answer.

Jungkook casts his head down, looking at the floor. He bites his lower lip harshly, trying to hold his lips from muttering a word that he’ll regret.

“What’ll you do, Kook?” Hoseok asks again, softly. This time it sounds like a reassurance rather than a question. The way Jungkook acts is a new thing for him. He’s never seen Jungkook like this and it needs no licensed therapist to see how whipped Jungkook is for the doctor. If only Jungkook himself knows it.

Just the time Jungkook is about to open his mouth, Jin slams his hand to the table. “Sure, maknae’s love story is very exciting, but we have a job, okay? Let’s resume our meeting.”

Taehyung snorts as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Party-pooper.”

Jin turns his head to Taehyung. “Yah. You have been a pain in my ass since you joined this mission. What do you want to do then?” he throws his hand in the air in frustration. Their conflict from the night before is still hot in his mind.

Yoongi pats Jin’s shoulder softly. “Just think of this as a break, Hyung. You’ve been working non-stop. I also suggest that we should just call it a day and get some sleep. We won’t get anything more if we force ourselves like this.”

“But, still…”

A sudden ring fills the room. Hoseok pulls his phone from his pocket and puts it on his ear. “Hey, Jimin. What’s up?” His eyes widen and his expression hardens as he listens to the rest of the call. “Okay, we’ll be there soon.” He says as he ends the call and puts the phone into his pocket. The other agents look at him quizzically.

“What happened?” Jin asks warily.

Hoseok sighs and says quietly, “Someone broke into Y/N’s office.”

You stand quietly in the elevator with Jimin still smiling weirdly beside you. “Why are you following me?”

“No reason. I’m just bored.” He hums. He’s not as bulky as Jungkook, and, compared to Jungkook, Jimin is like a thin child, even though Jimin is two years older than Jungkook. Well, you do recall that Jimin has just started his field mission just for a several weeks, and he worked as a handler before.

You snort. “Sure.”

Jimin turns his head to you with his hands clenching his chest. “What? You don’t believe me? I feel hurt!” he widens his eyes comically.

“Sure.” you say, rolling your eyes.

Jimin pouts and sighs in defeat. “Fine. I just need to put something inside Sehun’s drawer.” He pulls a black-leathery curled thing from his pocket and shows you. “I want to get my revenge.”

You laugh and to think that he brings it everyday to find a perfect opportunity is amusing to you. “And you think I won’t tell him that you put a fake snake in his drawer?”

“Y/N, don’t tell him, pleasee~” he whines cutely as both of you step out of the elevator. Sure, you know that he’s cute, whining like that, but Jungkook’s cuter for you.

Why the hell do I keep thinking of him?

“Just give me a reason not to tell him then.” you walk past him as he stands with a pout on his face.

He puts his hands under his chin, thinking deeply and suddenly he smiles knowingly. “I can tell you anything you’d want to know about Jungkook.”

It’s your turn to freeze on the spot. You turn your head slowly to meet Jimin’s eyes, giving him the widest smile you can give. “And why would I want that?”

Jimin shrugs and walks again to the office, still his smile doesn’t leave his face. He looks confident, overly confident. “I don’t know. I just thought that maybe you’d want it.”

You stomp ahead of him as you approach your office’s door. “Fine, I won’t tell Sehun about the snake.” You turn back and point your index finger at him. “Only because I know how Sehun hates snakes and his reaction is hilarious.” Your narrow your eyes as you continue. “Not because of Jungkook.” you whisper.

Jimin hides his smile. “Sure.”

You tap your card on the door and open it. Your eyes widen as you step inside your office. The sight inside your office makes you shiver immediately. Papers are scattered everywhere. The chair is thrown into the corner of the room. The glass cabinet’s shattered to pieces. “What the-” Color drains from your face as you proceed further, carefully stepping around the glass shards on the floor.

Jimin turns pale as he stands in front of the door, not knowing what to do. “Y/N, I think we shouldn’t enter for the time being. I’ll call the others first.” He grabs his phone and rapidly taps it. “Just don’t go any farther!”

His voice however doesn’t register, as your feet draw you closer to your desk. A burglar? What would a burglar want to steal in this office? There’s no expensive things in the office, well, except your coffee machine. But they didn’t need to trash this place in the first place, right?

At the sight of your desk, your knees weaken. Your eyes widen in fear and shock as you struggle to hold your body upright. Finally your legs give away, and you collapse to the floor. Your hands scrabble to regain any strength and hold your upper body from falling.

You breathe faster. You want to scream as loud as you can, but there is nothing left from your lips. Your hands tremble. You try hard to stop it by pushing them harder on the floor, pushing the glass shards right into your palms. The pain doesn’t make it to your mind right now, when what lies in front of you has every power to take your mind away.

Tears trickle from your eyes. Your vision turns blurry covered by your tears. As you blink them away, you also hope that the sight is gone too. But no matter how many times you blink, you still see the same thing.

And it is nauseating.

Pounding hurried footsteps in the hall outside your office finally helps you  regain some of your senses. You open your mouth slowly, trying your best to gather as much sound-air-or anything as you can as the breaths come too quickly to be of any use. “Help…” you whisper.

The other agents barge inside your office. Their faces have a mixture of expressions: mad-shock-confused-worry, and somehow you can see all of it on Jungkook’s face when he sees you slumped on the floor with bloodied hands. “Y/N?” Jungkook calls cautiously, trying to gain your attention.

“Kook…” you sob harder, which makes Jungkook immediately run to your side.

Jungkook holds your shoulders softly and studies your face, his eyebrows frown in worry. “Are you okay?”

Instead of answering him, you weakly lift up your arm to point to your desk. The agents all turn their heads to your desk, and terror overtakes their faces.

There’s a heart stabbed with a scalpel on your desk.

“What the..” Jin whispers.

Taehyung steps backward, hand to his face as he fights the urge to vomit. “Is that a fucking human heart?”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, he just pulls the blanket from your makeshift bed to wrap your wounds. Gently supporting your elbow, he helps you stand. He doesn’t leave your side, holding you close to him to prevent you from falling. He turns your face to his chest, away from your desk, while Yoongi examines the heart.

Insistent tears keep falling from your eyes, even though you try your hardest to hold them back. What the hell is that? What does that mean? Why on my desk? Why?

“Hey…” Jungkook whispers into your ear. “Don’t think of anything. Just take a deep breath. Count in for four, out for four, slowly.”

You follow his instructions, looking up from his chest, searching deep into his eyes. Those brown eyes don’t run away from you this time, instead they look back into yours softly, calming your nerves. Those eyes travel to other parts of your face as well, making sure you’re okay.

Jungkook tightens his hands into fists, trying to stop himself from brushing your tears away from your face. How he hates to see you crying; He’s never realized it until now. He hates it. He always sees you with a smile on your face, and it always makes his heart beat faster. And now? With tears falling from your tired but still beautiful eyes, his heart aches.

“…. It’s just my opinion.” Yoongi’s voice breaks through your reverie as you calmed down. You turn to the speakers, giving them both of your attention again.

“So it’s from a dead body?” Hoseok asks warily.

Jin runs his hand through his hair, “Alright, someone please take a look at the mortuary. Jungkook?”

Jungkook looks at your wet face once more, hesitant to leave your side. Finally he nods and moves his body away from you.  

“I’m coming with you…” you whisper as you grip his shoulder, forgetting that your hands are still covered in glass shards wrapped in the edge of a now-destroyed blanket.

Jungkook turns back to face you, glancing at your bloodied hands. It must have hurt. He holds your shoulder softly. “No. You should treat your wounds.”

“But…” I want to be with you.

“Jimin-hyung, please help Y/N?” Jungkook asks Jimin, ignoring your protest. Jimin stands by your side, slowly and gently gesturing you to follow him out of the door. You sigh in defeat as you follow Jimin, your eyes keep stealing glances to Jungkook.

Jungkook’s eyes are still lingering on your back when you walk away and his heart aches harder. I want to be with you too.

“What’ll you do, Kook?” Hoseok asks again. This time it sounds like a reassurance rather than a question.

“You know, Kook. If you really like her, you should just say so,” Taehyung says as he smiles softly to Jungkook. He props his chin on his hand, studying Jungkook’s response.

Does he like you?

Maybe.

Actually, he has never thought of this.

Feelings. They have never been programmed as part of his routine. He is an agent, a soldier. Feelings make him weak. Feeling is messy, messier than blood splattered on the wall when he bombarded a body with bullets. He once told himself not to trust his feelings. That’s why it was so hard for him to talk or be with you. His feelings are growing stronger after time and it’s suffocating him.

And the harder he denies his feelings, the stronger they get.

What is this feeling? Why is it so painful to see her like that?

No matter how many times he repeats his question in his mind, the answer is the same. It is the only rational reason for such an irrational topic.

He swallows the four-lettered-word that almost slipped from his lips and shakes his head to clear his mind.

He’s gonna investigate this case quickly. Just so he can see you. Just so he can look after you. And with that thought, he runs from your office.

You sit on the bed in the infirmary, gazing on the white wall. This room is supposed to smell like an antiseptic, just like a hospital, but instead it is just dusty. Everything is cleaned every single day, but it is just like there’s no one working here for a long time.

Jimin rummages in the cabinet beside you trying to find what he needs. After he finds the disinfection solution, tweezers, and some gauzes, he puts them on the metal tray and sets it on the bed.

Jimin reaches for your hand, opening the ruined blanket softly. You wince as the movement shoots another pain through your hand. “Sorry.” He purses his lips.

You shake your head weakly, tears threatening to fall. Why am I only feeling the pain now? “It’s okay.”

He looks at your both hands, examining them carefully. “There’s a lot of shards. It’s gonna be painful.”

You gulp. “I know.”

“We still don’t have a new doctor assigned here, so would you mind if I do it instead? You can tell me if I do it wrong.”

“Okay,” you answer.

He pours the disinfection solution over your hand. The pain starts accumulating as you bite your lips to stop yourself from screaming. He takes a pair of tweezers with his right hand and using his other hand to hold your wounded hand gently. Slowly, he begins to pick the shards from your hand.

After fifteen minutes working on the wounds, Jimin smiles in satisfaction and rises from his seat to get a bandage.

A knock on the door fills the room and Jungkook walks inside slowly and stops just before you. His eyes darted to yours immediately, looking worried. “How’s her wound, Hyung?”

Jimin returns with some rolls of bandages. “There’s a lot of wounds, but luckily they weren’t too deep.” Jimin begins to cover the cuts slowly.

“Whose is it?” you whisper to Jungkook. You’re not gonna lie that it’s been bothering you. To think that someone stole an organ from supposedly protected cadaver sends shivers to your spine.

Jungkook clears his throat and looks at your face hesitantly. “It’s from Baekho’s body. That body is ruined now.”

Your eyes glisten with new tears as your hands begin to tremble. The sight of a human heart stabbed on your desk filling your mind. You see organs everyday, it’s part of your job, you are used to seeing it. But it’s a different feeling when that organ was stabbed unknowingly to your desk. “What’s happening? Wa-Was that a threat?”

Jungkook hesitates, you can see it in his brown eyes. He sits beside you and reaches for your now-bandaged-hand and holds it gently, afraid of hurting you any further. “I’m sorry.”

His honeyed-voice, that you love, sounds as if he is in pain, and it somehow pains you even more. “That’s okay. I’m the one who agreed to it in the first place. And besides, I chose to work in this field, it’s only a matter of time that I get something like this, isn’t it?” you laugh dryly, but deep inside, you’re afraid. Well, how can’t you?

Jungkook’s hand tightens. “Still, I shouldn’t put you in any danger.” He sighs. “Which is why I’m gonna take you home after this.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“If they don’t want you to investigate about Baekho, then you shouldn’t do it.” He looks straight at you. “It’s for your safety.”

You turn your palm to meet his, holding him back. “Kook, I must finish it.”

“No. This is a dangerous case and it was stupid of me to ask your help. I don’t want you involved any further.” He closes his mouth for a moment, trying to mutter appropriate words. “I don’t want you to get hurt, Y/N.”

You shake your head profusely. “I don’t want to. I have to finish it. It’s my job.”

“Y/N…”

“See, I’m fine! It’s just a few cuts.” You desperately move your bandaged hand; you can still feel the pain shooting through your hands, but it’s not the point right now.

Jungkook holds your hand tighter and looks deep into your eyes. “I know, you’re not okay. Your hands are still trembling, Y/N. Please listen to me.”

You sigh. You know that Jungkook is stubborn, it won’t be easy to persuade him, but you know that he’s right. Maybe this case is too dangerous for you. “At least until I finish the report for today, please?”

He bites his lower lips, deep in his own thoughts. Jungkook lifts his hand to bring your bandaged hand to his lips, grazing your knuckles softly. “Are you sure?” His eyes never leave yours.

It takes your breath and your mind away, his hot breath against your skin and his brown eyes looking straight into yours. You can still feel his soft lips, hot on your skin when he puts your hand down, still holding it gently. Your heart thumps inside your chest and down to your wrist. Can he hear it? How does it feel so right with your hand in his? You nod. “I’m sure. I have you, right?”

“Yes.” Jungkook squeezes your hand gently one more time to reassure you. “You have me.”

A cough interrupts your interaction with Jungkook. “Well, this is awkward.” Jimin puts your other bandaged hand on your thigh as he rises to clean up the mess. “I’m just- I’m gonna take this call. Bye.” Jimin points at his phone, even though the screen is dark, and hurries out of the infirmary.

Heat rushes to your face; you forget that Jimin was still beside you. You look at Jungkook’s reddened face, completely sure that he also did the same. With that thought, the smiles slipped on your faces.

He releases your hands immediately and scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry, I ruined your blanket.”

You tilt your head in confusion. Then your eyes dart to the blanket on the floor.  “Ah… That’s fine. It was good first aid.”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

You nod and smile. “Sure, thanks Kook.”

“I-I also want to buy you dinner.” He clears his throat, his eyes travel to the wall in front of you. “Not in this building. I’ll take you to a proper restaurant.”

Your eyes widen with the sudden invitation. It’s weird but somehow it brings a smile to your face. Your smile turns into a wider one and you hide it by biting your lower lip. “I’d love that.”

Taglist: @kb-bangtanenthusiast​ @w0lfqu33n​ @gee-nee​ @jaienn​ @nctssidehoe​ @codeinebelle​ @kali-20 @mygalaxysupernova​ @jeoncookie-bts​ @kookunot​ @1-in-abillion​ @beingbeings​ @enchantingbrowneyedgirl​ @yiyi4657​ @jinsalpaca​  @giadalin​ @spring2787​

Taglist open!

[kate837]

I Love You

I completely recommend watching 2x14 Borrow or Rob, and the beginning of 2x15 Draw O Cesar Erase a Coward, before reading this fic. While this fic is AU it does have many similarities and minor details that it couldn't hurt to watch the episode first! Anyways enjoy!!!!!

#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:

Kurt had a day.

Not bad. Definitely not good. Just... A day.

A day he'll never forget actually. It was so full of ups and downs. From Shepherd plunging a knife into Sean's heart, to joking with Jane about whether or not he could handle Rich Dotcom. From shooting Rich to... Jane's date. That hurt. When Shepherd shoved a knife through Sean Clarke, Kurt's adrenaline spiked, he felt so alert for so long, he thought he would throw up. He got the same feeling from Jane. Except it was everytime she moved, spoke, brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, etc. Her admission of her date was too much. Kurt went straight home, got a damp rag, and laid down. Staring at the ceiling.

Though he did have to say, it still wasn't the worst part of his day. He felt bad. Witnessing first degree murder should automatically be the worst part of your day.

But when it comes to Rich.....

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

Kurt and Rich were sneaking through the secret underground tunnels of Jamison College, in order to get into the Deadalus gathering.

"This is interesting." Rich says, while coming to a stop.

"What?" Kurt replies shortly.

"Well this is the door, but the handle's different."

"Different how, Rich?!"

"Wel- well it's not there anymore?? Probably on account of all the hookers I snuck in it." Rich gestures to the handless door.

"Ok, so what's behind this door?" Kurt inquires, looking around.

"The closet. What are yo-"

"Stand back."

Kurt, with a running start, kicks the door in to find himself deep within the walls of a massive walk in closet.

"Aaaaa just how I remember it."

"SHHHHH!" Kurt puts his ear to the door, the one still on it's hinges, just in time to hear the gasps of attending guests and a soft female voice hushedly asking someone to notify security of the discrepancy.

"Shit."

"What?" Rich asks, genuinely confused.

"The guests are getting security to come check out 'the noise in the closet'."

"Oh. What are we gonna do Stubbles? I'm a sly guy but how do we explain that?"

"Oh God, why do you hate me?" Kurt says looking towards the ceiling.

"What? You're acting strange Stubbles, like weirder than normal. I mea-"

Rich was cut off by Kurt's large hands cupping both sides of his face, to kiss him. Without separating he backs Rich against a near wall, mimicking the earlier noise. Rich squirmed at first but expectedly went along with the unexpected.

"Come on Stubbles, you can at least use some tongue!"

"Shut. Up." Kurt snarls. "Actually. . . I need you to make some. . . noises." Kurt says while blushing furiously.

"Security is on their way." Tasha notifies through comms.

"Yeah you guys better get out of there." Reade warns.

"And say what? Oh hey haven't seen you in a while, please excuse my entering through a closet?!" Rich whisper-yells.

"Everyone shut up!" Kurt also whisper yells. "Now Rich I need you to moan a lot. Loudly."

"You could always make me Stubbles!"

"Rich!"

"Kurt what the hell are you doing?" Reade asks, growing increasingly concerned about his teammate's mental health.

"Rich just do it!"

"OOOOH! STUBBLES, YES!" Rich practically screams.

The party guests turn a side eye. But the security, like Kurt hoped, were turning away, figuring that the noise came from two enthusiastic partygoers. Or if the other patrons were anything like Rich maybe more.

Of course Weller didn't know that yet.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

"Ohhh. Now i get it, I can't believe this is working." Reade says, half laughing at the ridiculous noises coming out of his earpiece. "Hey Kurt it's work-"

"Will you shut up?!" Tasha butts in.

"What are you tal-"

"He doesn't know that they stood down yet." Tasha says wriggling her eyebrows. "Hey Kurt most of the security guards stood down but you still have a couple incoming. . . You might need to amp it up a bit!"

Her and Reade try and fail to stifle their laughter after Rich let's out a completely overexaggerated 'UNGH'!

"Come on Stubbles, they're not buying it, you're gonna have to join me if you wanna get out of here."

"Why me? God why me?" Kurt says again looking up.

Kurt let's out a loud and breathless 'Oh God' that completely undoes all of Tasha and Reade's composure. They are hysterical by now. They completely lost it when Rich and Kurt started harmonizing!

"Stop! Stop!" Tasha said. "I can't take it anymore." She pulls herself up from the floor of the van, where she fell from laughing so hard.

"Yeah guys, the security's gone. They're long gone." Reade adds, clutching his stomach.

"Yeah Rich so goo- wait what?!"

"Yeah you're clear." Tasha clarifies.

"You could have compromised this entire op!" Kurt says furiously.

"We all know that's not why you're mad Stubbles. And as the bible states-"

"I swear to God Rich, if you say another word I will shoot you."

"Another word."

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

Kurt flushed red just thinking about it. What was he going to put in his field report?!

He turned to lay on his side to take in the fresh scenery of the wall instead of the ceiling. After laying there for about two minutes, he finally got up to fix himself dinner.

While gathering ingredients, Kurt's mind inevitably wandered back to Jane's date. Everything about it tore at him. What she'd be wearing, what she'd eat, would she cover her tattoos, would she wear makeup. . . . . . . .

His thoughts were interrupted by a phone call.

It was Jane.

A million questions ran through his head. Why is she calling him? Shouldn't she still be out on her date?

He lunged for the phone but then. . . He stilled. Didn't move a muscle. He picked up his phone, turned it over, and resumed gathering ingredients.

Once the phone eventually stopped buzzing, Kurt's inner turmoil came to play.

'Why didn't you answer?! Jane could be in trouble!'

'Be rational Kurt. She's on a date, probably just calling to let you know that she'll complete her paperwork tomorrow, since she's busy.'

'Look, everyone knows you're in love with her, but you can't act like some overprotective boyfriend whenever she's around.'

Kurt shakes his head. He wasn't in love with Jane Doe. Was he?

'Of course you are! That's why you lunged for the phone as soon as you saw her name, but put it down when you realized she was still on a date.'

'No. If I was in love with her, I would have immediately answered.'

'No. You love her so much that you realized that if she's having fun, even with another man, you wouldn't want to ruin that. That's love.'

'What am I supposed to do? I can't love her from afar.'

'This may be selfish but what if I proposed the idea that Oliver is Sandstorm?'

'It could work. But why not just tell her how you feel?'

"Because I'm just not ready yet." Kurt voiced sadly.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

First thing the next morning, Kurt was walking up and down the hallways, over and over again. In order to 'accidentally' bump into Jane on her way to Patterson's lab.

After three consecutive minutes, Jane appeared. She was wearing this loose, pastel green shirt, that roughly covered all of her upper body tattoos as well as bringing out her eyes. She paired it with tight blue jeans, which she almost never wears, and a few silver rings on her right hand.

"Wow." Kurt whispered. What looked like any other outfit, looked stunning on her. He almost forgot to 'bump' into her.

"Jane!"

"Oh, hey!"

"You get Patterson's text yet?"

"Yeah, heading there now."

They walk in silence for a few heartbeats, until they turn into a secluded hallway.

"Jane wait." Kurt says while gently grabbing Jane's arm.

"Kurt, what is it?"

"After you told me last night, about your date. I started thinking. . ."

Jane subconsciously starts to hold her breath. Her expression wreaks of hope.

"Hey! Glad I found you two, Patterson's got something." Tasha pops in.

"Yeah." Kurt says releasing Jane.

Saved by the bell.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

The debrief, while no longer than usual, felt unbearably long. The charged energy from Kurt and Jane's previous conversation still radiated off of them.

While any hope of continuing it was completely shut down by the tattoo clues pointing to three different entities, causing the team to split up completely. Kurt with Roman, Jane with Tasha, and Patterson with Reade.

This was going to be a longgg day.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

The team finally reconvened at about 5pm. They had just finished the field reports. All three of them. It was exhausting.

Fortunately for Kurt his adrenaline spiked right back up about an hour later when Tasha, so graciously, reminded the group that they never filled out the field report for their Deadalus mission. Which caused Reade and Patterson to burst out into a fit of giggles.

"What's so funny?" Jane asked, looking to Kurt, smiling.

Kurt goes wide-eyed. She doesn't know.

This was going to be a long night.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

The team had just finished catching Jane up while writing the 'going to be extremely redacted' field report.

"Wait I'm still confused. If you just wanted Rich to moan, why did you kiss him?"

All eyes look to Kurt.

"We- well I was under the impression that security was going to be charging through the door at any second." He says glaring at the pair of agents who were strategically avoiding his gaze. "And when they did, if they saw us. . . you know-"

"We don't know, Weller!" Patterson howled.

Kurt glared.

"Yeah I kind of want to know how far you were willing to take it Assistant Director!" Reade joined in.

"We're done here." Kurt said as he walked out.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

Jane had just walked out of the locker room to be met head on with Kurt.

"Kurt, hey!" Jane says, surprised.

"Hey."

"Umm. . . I actually wanted to talk to you."

Kurt raises his eyebrows in obvious confusion, cueing Jane to continue.

"When we were. . . Uh you know- outside of P- Patterson's lab. You didn't finish." Jane stumbles through her words as a new wave of nervousness hits her with full force.

"Oh that." Kurt says, grabbing Jane's arm, mirroring his earlier gesture and leading her away from the locker room door.

"Jane, I was up all night and I couldn't stop thinking about it. We need to be careful. Sandstorm feels like it's everywhere."

"You think Oliver is Sandstorm?"

"Yes. . . No." Kurt shakes his head.

"Kurt you're not making any sense." Jane says studying him.

"I know. I know. I just- no I don't think he's Sandstorm."

"Then why did you-"

"I've been trying to come up with reasons of why you shouldn't date him for the better part of 13 hours."

"Kurt wha-"

"And I got nothing, because the only reason is that I love you."

Jane goes wide-eyed. It was as if all the air was sucked out of her.

"I love you Jane."

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

[ketsuyuki-hibana-typed]

I get it, Anon, I get it. All of the Pillars are alive. But, I'll be lying if I said I'm not mad at Muzan, but he's hot. And Muzan you is still a dick.

HEEE HEEE *MJ voices*

Overall, this is really fun to write!

Kibutsuji Muzan x Friendly!Reader (Domestic Taisho EraAU)

Let's say. Muzan didn't really care about the Pillars. He actually sickened by "Killing Muzan by Ubuyashiki: A Whole Plan" scenarios, but keep searching for Blue Spider Lily.

He didn't order his Upper and Lower Moons to kill the Pillars. Whatever, they could slay his minions, yadda yadda but he will not lay up his hand on the Pillars nor the Ubuyashikis.

The reason was simple.

You.

"Muzan, it's me!" Your cheerful voice was heard from the front door, he stopped everything he do and quickly rushed to you

"Good morning, (y/n)."

"Morning, Muzan!" You put your shoes on the shoe rack. "I will make breakfast, like always! What do you want, Muzan?"

"Everything you cook will be fine by me."

"Okay!"

He actually didn't need to eat that, but seeing you with your Demon Slayer uniform covered with apron every morning was really pleasant. Also your food is somehow great on his taste bud.

"Oh, thank you for the antidote! Shinobu-chan said that she wanted to know you, but since you said to not tell anyone, I came up with a reason!" You put rice on his bowl and gave it to him.

"And what kind of reason you give to that Shinobu?" He took that bowl and started to eat. Who the fuck is Shinobu, he thought.

"I said that I picked it somewhere on the ground!"

"That's the stupidest reason you could come out with. And she believed that?"

"I don't know, she just sighed and continued her works." Muzan chuckled. He usually stared at you eating, almost forgot his own food.

He remembered the first time he met you. He was hiding after he lose on his fight with Tanjirou and the Pillars at Ubiyashiki residence.

Muzan recognized you as one of the new Pillars and about to change his appearance but he was caught by you. He really thought he will be killed

But instead, you said, "Are you lost? Can I help you? You look pale."

Instead killing you on the spot for saying him 'pale, he's playing along with the role, told you that his name is Toshikuni Muzan and he's a doctor who had special disease that couldn't stand under the sun.

When he knew that you are new Pillar, he thought about taking advantage from you to gather information about Demon Slayers. He thought about turning you into demon, or abducting you from there.

But none of it was done.

Now, the whole plan is a mess. His intelligence and tactical thoughts are useless. He was simply enthralled by your own charm. He could read your mind, clearer than the sky. He never sense any animosity thorough your head. It's just cloud of full happiness and full of kind thought.

He fell, really hard, for you.

And you didn't realize because thanks to you, the demon races including Upper and Lower Moons were about to extinct because he didn't create them anymore. He simply ordered his only trusted demon and Upper Moons now, Kokushibou and Akaza, to searched Blue Spider Lily. The rest could fuck off.

And now, you became his 'personal assistant' including his lover.

After cleaning the plates, you headed out to headquarters to give daily reports.

"Where's my daily kiss?"

"Hm, what kiss?" You stood in front of the shoe rack, looking confused.

"Here." He pointed his cheek.

"But aren't that supposed to do by married couple?" You tilted your head.

"Aren't we going to be a married couple soon?"

"We are going to be?" You became more confused, it made Muzan infuriated but he hid it well. "Just once won't hurt, I guess."

You tip-toed and hold his shoulder, did a quick kiss on his cheek.

"Have a good day."

"Bye, see you on night!"

You didn't live with him because you still have sick dad and little sister at your home. He has offered you to stay at his house, along with your family but you refused since you didn't want to disturb his research.

When you don't have something to do on the headquarters or currently not training your students, you visited him again in the afternoon.

You usually asked him what he wanted to do, helping him or sometimes just sitting on his lab and reading some journals he made.

"How is your father? Did the medicine I made worked?" He asked while shaking his test tube slowly.

"Yes!" You jumped from your seat and ran towards his desk. "He felt so much better! Thanks to you, Muzan! I probably never find a kind doctor like you!"

"Well, that compliment seems super honest to me."

"Of course, I'm honest! Right! How should I pay you back?"

"Date with me, tonight."

"Whaaat?? Aren't we always dating at night? Well, except the day when I have mission."

"That's fine."

"If you insist, we'll go!"

He smiled again. You always succeeded on attempt to make him pleased, more than anyone else. It's just a simpel thing though, but he appreciated it.

After eat lunch, you took a seat on his sofa, doze off and take a nap there. Muzan joined you, sometimes he slept on your thighs, sometimes you slept on his shoulder when he reading his book.

"Muzan-sama, I came to-"

"Ssh." Muzan put his finger in front of his lips when he saw Akaza from the window.

"Ah." Akaza lowered his voice when he peeked up on Muzan's shoulder. "Miss (y/n) is here, I see. Excuse me."

He didn't want anyone to disturb your nap. Not after he saw your eye bags, plus scars here and there.

Well, should I ordered my remained demons to escape or don't attack her, he thought. He looked at you again. Wow, what an idiot expression.

"Mu... Zan... How about... Scaly... Skin..."

He wiped your drool, and smiled with the same idiot expression with you.

It really hits different when people were in love, indeed.

When night comes, your 'date' with him is started.

You will hold his hand and pulled him around on the way. The reason, again, is simple.

"I'm not really familiar around this city."

"Huh? Even though you live near here? No worries! I'll be your guide!" You showed him smug smile, and grabbed his hand.

If Douma was around, he probably laughed at you because he knew that Muzan could remember roads and places in the blink of eye.

But, no, he won't tell you the truth.

When you walked around, you usually bumped on your fellow Pillars.

"Tanjirou!!"

"(y/n)! How are you doing?" Tanjirou approached you with bright smile.

"I'm great!"

"Did you just go alone? I just got news from Kasugaigarasu about this place. There are demons, it's dangerous to walk around alone in this city."

"Huh, but I walked with Mu- I mean, Toshikuni-san, my- eh? Where did he go."

"Hm?"

"It- It's my acquaintance." You looked around like a chick lose its mother.

"I see. Anyway, please be careful."

"I will! Thank you, Tanjirou!"

After Tanjirou waved his hand, you looked for him. "Muzan! Muzan, where are you- whoa!" You almost slipped and someone caught your back in time.

"Careful there, lady."

"Muzan! Where have you been? I just meet one of the strongest Pillar, I wanted to introduce you to him."

"I didn't want to meddle with Pillars except you."

"Why is that?"

"By the way-" He put a red hairpin on your hair. You tapped your head, feeling something. "Perfect."

"Muuuu, you always bought me things when we're dating! The only things I ever gave to you were handmade omamori and knitted scarf. It's so unfair!" You light-hitting his chest, he just laughed while playfully fend your hand.

"That's the essential of dating." He patted your hair. "Let's go."

You're still grumpy but soon forget about that. Both of you continued your walk, from the square to a little bit quiet place.

"Oh, hi, grandpa!! How is your udon selling today?"

"Auntie, let me help you!"

"Girl, you look cute on that dress!"

Muzan rubbed his forehead. Are you really not knowing the concept of 'Minding your own business'?

"You're really friendly."

"These are the people who helped me!"

"Just a little help."

"It means a lot for me!"

"Hah, read the situations will you." He mumbled. He didn't really like her being so friendly towards other. It really pissed him off.

"Oh? Oh? Muzan, are you jealous?" You elbowed his ribs.

"Yes, so kiss me." He moved his face towards you. You hold his face down.

"Why is everything had to be resolve by kiss?! Muzan you-"

You suddenly stopped. The sense of demons lingered around your body.

"Muzan, back off." You unsheathed your hidden sword. "The demons are here. Tanjirou was right about the rumour."

You didn't waste your time. Not wanting the demons attacking first, you went to the direction where the demons were ready to kill you.

He just stood there while crossing his arms, smile proudly of his little baby slashing down numerous demons in no time.

Oh, what a poor demons, they probably wanted to report something to Muzan. But nah, he will just ask Akaza what happened

"Done! I'll give the reports thorough my crows later."

"What a reckless move." He wiped the blood on your cheek. "I see you're not hurt anywhere. Thank you for protecting me."

"Of course!"

"Let us continue our walk."

It's just both of you now, heading back to home.

"You see, Muzan. I might kill demon and all but..." You looked down and smiled vaguely. "I wonder what kind of life they had before they become demon. Is she a daughter? Future bride? A samurai? I don't know. But I always pray they will get a good life in the next reincarnation after I ended their life as a demon."

"Really? How thoughtful of you." He stopped and stood in front of his house.

"Yeah. So-" You looked at his eyes, grabbing his hand and clasped it gently. "I hope you could heal, I hope you could see the sun, feeling the warm dissipate into your body on our next life. I hope we could meet on our next life."

Again, he read your mind. Nothing. just pure thought about him being a complete healthy... Human. It's weird because he saw the human value inside you.

He didn't just fell for you, he was demolished by you to the ground.

Your sister sometimes told you to stay him at night because he seems lonely.

"Nee-chan, I will take care of father."

"But-"

"I'm a Demon Slayer too, count on me!"

"Well..."

"Toshikuni-san looks lonely in that big house, as his lover shouldn't you accompany him?"

Since there's no problem with it, sometimes you went to his house an sleep with him. When you do, he's really happy and always promised he didn't do anything weird towards you without your consent.

His bed was so big, unlike the futon on your house. After change into your bed robe, you likes to roll around without worry.

"You really like my bed?"

"Uh-hum." You put your cheek on his pillows. "It smelled like you."

"That's why I told you to move here." He positioned himself besides you. He tugged you into the blanket, kissed you on the forehead and brought you closer to his chest. He caressed your back until you fell asleep.

"Good night, Muzan."

"Good night, (y/n). Sweet dreams."

He didn't need sleep, he only need you to stay by his side.

Oh how he wish he went back to human again.

[viking-raider]

The Bat’s Sister *Fic Request*

Summary: You’re Bruce Wayne’s little sister, and after meeting at a Charity Gala, you and Clark Kent kept running into each other. So much so, that the pair of you fall in love, much to Bruce’s annoyance and attempts to stop it. But, both Clark and Bruce would do anything to keep you safe.

Pairing: Clark Kent/Reader

Word Count: 14,274

Rating: Superman/Batman AU, Fluff, Violence, overprotective superheros

Inspiration: Request by @jessevans​ (x)

Author’s Note: This is my first Clark Kent/DC story! I had a lot of fun writing it too!

Tag List: @jennylovelyheart, @peakygroupie, @jessevans​ @MITZWINCHESTER @rosie-loves-things​, @ohjules​, @mary-ann84​, @omgkatinka​, @hm-fck​, @the-freak-cassie-131​, @heelsamizayn​, @agniavateira, @cap-barnes, @romyr4​, @michelehansel, @katiebriggs004-blog​

Clark first met you at one of Bruce's Charity Galas. He was there to write an article on the event for the Daily Planet, when he noticed Bruce pull you aside into a corner as you entered the venue, handing you a glass of champagne. Clark let the rumble of the hundred plus people in the room around him fade away and honed in on the conversation between the two of you.

“You're late, y/n.” Bruce told you in a concerned voice, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I thought...”

“Bruce, just because someone is running late, doesn't always mean something happened to them.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at your older brother. “You know what the traffic from Metropolis is like at this hour trying to get into Gotham. Especially, when the great and mighty Bruce Wayne is throwing the gala of the century.”

“If you'd called me, I could have gotten you a helicopter in.”

“Dear God, Bruce.” You laughed, sipping your champagne.

“What's the point of being so rich, if you don't enjoy it?” Bruce teased you, grinning.

“Being rich is your thing, Ru.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “I am more than content on living in my flat in Central Metropolis, and doing my simple nine to five job.”

“A flat the our inheritance pays for, and a nine to five that's at Wayne Biotech.” Bruce rolled his eyes back.

“I pay my own bills,” You defended yourself. “Our inheritance only pays for the rent and whatnot. As for Biotech, I enjoy it, helping the world invent and discover new vaccines and medical treatments. You know as well as I do, I can't sit around a multi-million dollar mansion, while servants take care of literally every whim and fantasy I may or may not have. I'd lose my mind.” You sighed, setting your glass down on the table behind you. “It's not like I can run around the city in a rubber suit.”

Bruce narrowed his eyes at you, you'd been the first person he told about being Batman. “You're the only family I have left, y/n. I don't want to lose you, like we lost our parents.” He told you, taking your hand in his. “You know, that's the main reason I do, what I do at night.”

“I know it is, Bruce.” You told him, resting your hand on his cheek. “But, I can take care of myself as well, you know.”

“Mr. Wayne.” Clark beamed, stepping up to you and your brother. “Ma'am.” He smiled, sweetly at you.

“Mr. Kent.” Bruce replied, turning to the reporter. “How can I help you?”

You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at your brother, seeing his shoulders tense as he looked up at Clark, giving you the odd feeling that the two knew each other.

“I'm well.” Clark replied, his smile smug, but familiar. “It's an amazing party you have going on here.” He said, gesturing around to the rest of the room, like he was reminding him that there was more than just the three of you in the room. “Can I get a statement about it?” He asked, pulling out a pen and small notepad.

Bruce opened his mouth to say something, but something else caught his attention and he patted Clark on the shoulder. “You know what, I forgot to check on something downstairs. But, I'm sure my sister, y/n, here would gladly give you a statement about it. It was her idea to throw this gala to raise money for a wonderful cause.” He grinned at you, chuckling seeing the utter look of horror in your face as he walked away.

“Oh, I hate him.” You sighed, picking your glass back up and downing it.

“Would you like that to be your official statement?” Clark asked, grinning amused.

“I wish.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “But, no. Of course not.”

“So, tell me, what it is that the gala is about?” He asked, poising himself to write down your answer.

“Um,” You glanced around the room, hugely uncomfortable about being in the spot light, you never liked being the center of attention.

Clark watched and listened to your heart beat become erratic with panic and tucked his pen back into his front pocket and his notebook in his back pocket. He turned around as a waiter walked behind him and picked up two glasses of wine, holding one out to you. “How about we go somewhere quieter, that way you're more comfortable answering any questions?” He suggested, your fingers brushing as you took the glass from him.

You took a deep breath and a gulp of the wine. “Sure.” You nodded, looking around and then motioned for him to follow you out of the main room of the event and down the hall to one of the empty offices. “Ask your questions, Mr. Kent.” You told him, sitting down across from him.

“Right.” He smiled at you, pulling out his pen and pad again, setting it on the desk next to him. “You're Bruce Wayne's sister?”

“Little sister, yes.” You nodded, turning your wine glass between your hands. “I was two, when our parents were killed.”

“How old was Bruce?” Clark asked, scribbling in his pad.

“Sixteen.” You replied, shifting in your seat, neither you or Bruce liked talking about the death of your parents.

“I'm guessing, he took care of you, after that?” He inquired, tilting his head at you and pushing his glasses back up his nose.

“Sorta.” You shrugged, taking another gulp of wine. “Between him, our butler, Alfred, and nannies. All rather lonely, really. But, you have to make the best out of what life gives you.”

“And being a Wayne, that's pretty much everything you want, since your family as huge chunk of the world's wealth.” Clark chuckled, smiling at you, but his smile faded see you didn't find it funny. “I'm sorry, that...what is this gala about?” he asked, shaking his head and changing the subject.

“The Gala is to raise awareness about the hunger crisis in third world countries.” You explained to him. “Wayne Industries started a food supply market in the 1910's, that helps feed low income families and homeless in Metropolis and Gotham.” You continued, crossing your ankles.

“What made you want to throw the Gala for it?” Clark asked, intrigued.

“I spent a year in Africa helping try and treat a disease outbreak, then helped develop a vaccine for it with my position in the Wayne Biotech labs. While I was there, I noticed how so many villages struggle to keep themselves fed, and figured that Wayne Industries had more than enough money to help, as would many of the other rich socialites over here. But, rich people don't generally like donating money, unless they get to dress up and mingle with other rich people.” You chuckled, finishing off the rest of your wine. “and yeah, you can put that down as my official statement.” You added, seeing Clark's eyebrow raise as he finished writing down what you said.

“That'll make for some scandal.” He giggled, setting his pen down. “A rich woman calling out other rich people.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just because you're rich, doesn't mean you get to think you're above everyone else in the world. Besides, I'm not into being rich. It doesn't really give me what I want out of life.”

“And what do you want out of life, Ms. Wayne?” He asked you, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his chair.

“Something quiet and simple.” You sighed, looking out the open windows to the bright and dark night of Gotham. “I've lived in the city for ninety percent of my life, and I've never felt more one with the world, than when I'm somewhere quiet, where I can look up and see the stars, and not the lights of a million buildings, airplanes and satellite dishes.”

“Why don't you move out somewhere in the country?” Clark asked, he could relate to how you felt, he'd been a small town boy, and coming to Metropolis the first time was overwhelming, especially with his Kryptonian powers.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Bruce got me a house out in the country for my birthday a couple years back, but I don't get to spend too much time there. I'm the head Biochemist at Biotech, so I work a lot and when I'm not working a lot, I'm traveling for other Wayne industry responsibilities.”

“You're quite the busy young lady.” He complimented, taking a sip of his forgotten wine.

“Indeed, I am.” You smiled at him. “Tell me, how do you and Bruce know each other?”

“What makes you think we know each other?” Clark asked, smoothly. “We've met at several events I was writing a article on for the Daily Planet.”

“I know my brother, Mr. Kent.” You told him, smirking and crossing your arms. “I know, when my brother is acquainted with a reporter, and when he knows someone.”

“Well, I guess when you run into someone as often as he and I do,” He told you, acting cool. “You just start becoming very familiar with each other.” He explained, dancing around the fact, he and your brother had met each other two years before, and ended up leveling most of Metropolis and Gotham, as Superman and Batman. “I end up attending nearly all of your brother's events for Wayne Industries.” He added, pressing his lips together.

“Hm.” You hummed, knowing he was hiding something. “Fair enough, I suppose.”

There was a knock on the office door and one of Bruce's assistants stuck her head into the room. “The silent auction is starting, Ms. Wayne.” She informed you, looking between you and Clark.

“Thank you, Felicia.” You told her, standing up and smoothing your dress down. “Mr. Kent, it was a pleasure to meet you, and thank you for the interview.” You said, extending your hand to him.

“The pleasure was all mine, Ms. Wayne.” He told you, standing up and shaking your hand, gently. He moved out of your way and held the door open for you, smiling sweetly as you nodded your head to him, and walked out.

Clark ran down the street, in a complete rush to get his latest article into Perry White before his deadline. All he needed was to have Perry chewing him out again for being late, and holding up the printer. But, he couldn't help the detour to rescue people from a major apartment fire. He turned the corner and collided straight into someone, knocking them over and his glasses off.

“Oh, gosh!” He exclaimed, shifting the strap of his shoulder bag. “I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention.”

“That's quite alright, Mr. Kent.” You told him, picking up your bag and grabbing his black framed glasses off the sidewalk.

Clark blinked several times, looking down at you. “Ms. Wayne.” He grinned, helping you up. “Are you all right?” He asked, looking you over.

“Other than feeling like, I ran into a bull made out of a brick wall?” You chuckled, holding out his glasses to him. “The only injury is to my pride.” You assured him, readjusting your jacket and backpack.

“Well,” He sighed, biting his lip. “Is there anything I can do, to ease that for you?” He asked, tilting his head at you.

“Not unless you can get me across town in,” You glanced down at your watch, and groaned. “an hour.” You sighed, your shoulders dropping. “I'm running late for my flight to Jordan.”

“I could get you to Jordan in less than an hour.” Clark commented, licking his lips.

Laughter bubbled out of you at his comment, your hand resting on his upper arm. “If only.” You giggled, looking up at him.

He raised his eyebrows at you, pressing his lips together to keep himself from making another comment. “I should let you get to your flight, I'm sorry about being a brick bull.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“No harm, no foul.” You assured him, going on tiptoe and giving him a hug, surprising him into hugging you back.

“Tell your brother, I said hello.” He called after you, as you rushed into awaiting car.

“I will!” You called, slipping into the car and your driver closed the door.

Clark watched your car pull away and disappear in the traffic, running his hand through his hair again and then turning on his heels and continued to rush down the street and into the Daily Planet. He managed to get his article in on time, but he ended up spending the rest of the day thinking about your body hugged around his. By the time he clocked out and started his walk back home, Clark had already settled it in his mind that he was going to try and get his hands on your phone number and ask you out to dinner, for an interview, of course. Perry had asked him to do a follow up on the Wayne Charity Gala he'd attend the month and a half before, so it was the perfect reason to ask you out. He just needed to find out when you'd be back from your trip.

“Yes, Hello,” Clark said, when someone from Wayne Industry Headquarters finally answered the phone. “I'm Clark Kent, a reporter for the Daily Planet in Metropolis. I did an interview with Ms. Y/n Wayne, and I need to schedule a follow up interview with her.”

“Ms. Wayne is out of the country, at the moment, Mr. Kent.” the Secretary informed him.

“I am aware of that.” He said, running his hand through his hair as he paced his small flat. “Can you tell me when she'll be back, and how to contact her when she returns?”

“Um...” The Secretary groaned, typing quickly on her computer and shaking her head. “Ms. Wayne is due back into Gotham in two weeks. If you'd like, Mr. Kent, I can pass on a message to her assistant, Felicia, and have her call you when Ms. Wayne returns.”

“I would appreciate that, thank you.” Clark replied, it wasn't exactly the answer he wanted, but it was better than her telling him to fuck off and hanging up on him. Clark wasn't off the phone with the woman when his phone rang again, with a private number. “Clark Kent?” He answered, pathetically hoping it was you.

“Why are you asking about my sister, Superboy?” Bruce asked, leaning back in his chair as he sat in his office.

“Bruce.” Clark smiled, tightly, dropping onto his couch.

“Answer the question, Clark.”

“I was asked to do a follow up interview with her, after the one I did with her at the Gala. Where you ditched her, to go play Batman.” Clark told him, giving into the older man's protective banter. “How did you know I called about her?”

“Clark, y/n is the only blood family I have left in this universe.” Bruce told him, rotating in his chair to look out over Gotham. “I know, if someone three countries away, breaths in her direction. I especially know if someone is inquiring after her in my own company, or any company.”

“Don't you worry about smothering her?” Clark asked, pulling his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“She knows, I do it, for her own good.” Bruce growled, squeezing his phone a bit tighter.

“I'm not going to do anything to your sister, Bruce.” Clark sighed, picking up on the edge in his voice. “I just need a follow interview with her.”

“Then, why didn't you call me?”

“People don't usually call the owner of a company to ask for an interview with one of their employees. They usually call the front desk and ask for one to be scheduled.” Clark countered, dropping his head back.

“Y/n isn't one of my employees, she's my sister, and I'm her guardian.”

“She's a grown woman, Wayne.” Clark shook his head. “She doesn't need you acting like her father, or her personal Batman. She needs you to be her brother, and let her live her own life.”

“Coming from the alien, that's an only child.” Bruce snapped, hanging up on him.

Clark dropped his phone on the couch beside him and sighed, heavily, scrubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. He got up, stripping his clothes off as he made his way into the bathroom and cranking the hot water tap all the way on and stepped into the spray, groaning as the hot water soaked into his skin and muscles. He leaned on his arms against the shower wall, letting the water rain over his head, and watched as it swirled down the drain.

“Just an only alien child,” he groaned, tilting his head back to let the water hit his face. “That might be in love.”You were on the jet on the way back from Jordan, when Felicia sat down across from you. You cocked an eyebrow at her, knowing by the look on her face, she had news to tell you.

“We had a request come into headquarters for you.” She told you, scrolling through her phone.

“Oh?” You sighed, you really weren't in the mood for people requesting you. You just wanted to get home and sleep for a week. “What do they want?”

“An interview.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I don't do interviews, everyone knows that.”

“Well, it was an ask for a follow up, to one you've already done.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, then it dawned on you. “Clark Kent.” You nodded, it made sense now.

“Do you want me to contact him, and tell him, you'll be denying his request?” She asked, glancing up at you from her phone.

“No.” You sighed, rubbing your eyes. “I'll do the follow up, just make it a point to tell him, I'm not answering an personal questions.” You told her, getting up and going to the back of the jet, to lay down.

Felicia called Clark as soon as the jet landed back in Metropolis. “Mr. Kent, I'm Felicia Davis.” She introduced herself.

“How can I help you, Ms. Davis?” Clark replied, pressing his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he sat at his desk in the Daily Planet.

“I'm Ms. Wayne's assistant.” She explained, sliding into the car beside you. “I'm calling in answer to your request for a follow up interview with her, about the Charity Gala.”

“Oh, yes, right!” Clark grinned, ear to ear. “Is there a good time for Ms. Wayne to meet me? I was thinking over dinner, if that's alright with her.”

“Ms. Wayne just arrived home from two weeks in Jordan, and is rather exhausted.” Felicia told him, opening a personal planner she carried around for you. “So, she'll need a couple of days to recover from her work trip.”

“Of course.”

“How does Saturday night sound to you, Mr. Kent?” She asked, tapping the date with her finger and looking at you, to confirm you're all right with it as well. “Excellent. Ms. Wayne will meet you at 7 pm, Saturday night. Do you need us to make the arrangements?”

“No, no.” Clark shook his head, like she could see him as he rummaged around his desk for a sticky note to write on. “I can make a reservation at a restaurant in down town Metropolis, and then send you the details.” he told her, finding what he was looking for.

“Very well, you can contact me with this phone number.” Felicia told him, penning it into the planner.

“Thank you, Ms. Davis.” Clark said, leaning back in his chair, with relief.

“You're welcome, and have a good day, Mr. Kent.” She replied, hanging up with him. “He'll be making a reservation for dinner this Saturday at 7pm. He'll call me with the name of the restaurant.”

“Strange for a man to pick the restaurant, we usually do.” You chuckled, glancing out the window.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Bruce had caught wind of you going to dinner with Clark, and in his typical fashion as your overprotective brother, he completely blew it out of proportions. You both spent that Friday in his office at Wayne Industries arguing about it, and most of the morning and afternoon Saturday doing the same.

“Oh, for the love of Superman, Ru!” You snapped as you stood in your closet, trying to pick out a pair of shoes to go with your outfit.

“Don't say that name!” Bruce barked over the speaker of your phone.

“What name?” You quipped, picking up a pair of black flats. “Ru or Superman?”

“Superman.” Bruce sighed, he'd stopped trying to prevent you from calling him, Ru, decades ago.

“Good Lord, Bruce.” You rolled your eyes, slipping your shoes on. “You still feel threatened by Superman? Ye ol' Batman's jealous.” You teased him, knowing it get under his skin.

“I'm not threatened or jealous of him, y/n.” He told you, rolling his eyes. “Not like that anymore, at least.”

“Then, enlighten your dear sister, and tell me how you are threatened and jealous of him?” You kept teasing him, checking yourself out in the mirror.

“It's complicated.”

“Well, uncomplicate it.” You pressed, going to your jewelry box for a pair of earrings.

“There's not enough time to do that, your date is in twenty minutes.”

“It's not a date, Ru!” You snapped, turning to look at your phone. “It's business. Business, you got me stuck in, when you left me at the Gala with Clark, so you could go play rescuer.”

“Don't remind me.” He groaned, still feeling the deep bruise on his side.

“All right, I'm going.” You told him, picking your phone up off the bed.

“Call me, if anything happens.” Bruce told you, quickly. “Or if you need an alibi to call it short.”

“I will, bro.” You told him, going out the front door. “And, Bruce, don't fucking stalk me. You, Alfred or anyone else, for that matter.” You warned him, hanging up before he could protest. “Off we go, Hector.” You said, as your driver opened the car door for you.

Clark stood out front the restaurant waiting for you to arrive, and smiled brightly, seeing your car pull up and your driver open the door for you. He offered you his arm as you got out of the car. “How was your trip to Jordan?” He asked, leading you inside.

“It was very good, thanks.” You told him, smiling softly. “How's work going for you?” You asked as the waiter showed the pair of you to your table.

“It's never a dull moment for a reporter, especially in this world.” He teased, pulling your chair out for you, then moving to his. “Your assistant, Felicia, made it clear I wasn't supposed to ask you any personal questions.” He said, setting his pen and notepad on the table by his menu.

“Well, if you do, they're to be off the record.” You explained, picking up your menu and browsing the selection of food and wine.

“Of course.” Clark nodded, following your lead. “What was your business in Jordan about?” He asked, looking at you over his menu.

“It was a Biotechnology convention.” You explained, turning the menu page. “Biochemists and the like gather every few years to discuss their research, breakthroughs and such with each other. Swap what info we can to help each other out, typical boring Scientist mambo jumbo.” You chuckled, looking over your menu at him.

“What made you become a Scientist?” He asked, picking what he wanted and setting his menu aside, but didn't bother with his notebook.

You shrugged, setting your menu down. “I enjoy helping people. I'm no Superhero, so I help in the ways and places I can.”

“You don't need to have super powers, to be a Superhero.” Clark said, looking at you, softly.

“That's possibly true.” You nodded, agreeing with him.

The waiter came over and took your dinner and drink orders, and you and Clark chatted away through two glasses of wine and most of your food, before you really realized that Clark hadn't written a single line in his notepad.

“Isn't this an interview, Mr. Kent?” You asked him, as dessert was set in front of you.

“You can call me, Clark.” He smiled at you, picking up his spoon to dig into his ice cream.

“Clark,” You grinned, taking a bite of your chocolate lava cake. “aren't you supposed to be interviewing me?” You repeated your question, smirking at him, impishly.

“I am supposed to be interviewing you, Ms. Wayne.” He nodded.

“Y/n.” You told him, staring at him across the table. “You can call me, y/n.”

Clark blushed and took another bite of his ice cream. “Admittedly, y/n, this is an interview with a motive.”

“Typical reporters.” You teased him, rolling your eyes playfully.

“My Boss, Mr White, asked me to do a follow up interview on your Charity Gala, but I really just wanted to ask you out to dinner..”

“So, you used the interview as an excuse.” You chuckled, nodding your head and amused that Bruce was mostly right.

“I am sorry.” He told you, abashed.

“That's quite all right, Clark.” You assured him, you really didn't mind at all. “But, won't you get in trouble with your boss for not doing the interview?”

“Yes, probably.” Clark nodded, worried at that prospect, he'd been on thin ice with Perry for several months.

“Well, how about we finish our desserts, and we take the actual interview on a walk around the park?” You suggested, setting your attention back on your cake, hoping to hide your blush.

“I rather like that idea.” Clark said, seeing your blush, easily, and blushing a bit, himself.

Clark paid the bill and you both left the restaurant, stopping long enough for you to tell Hector the change in plans. You took Clark's offered arm, resting your hand in the nook of his elbow as you strolled through the gates of the local park. The sound of late night birds, other pedestrians and the gurgling of the various fountain filled the cool night air, making it feel like You and Clark were blanketed in another world altogether. Clark took out his notebook and pen, and started funneling out all the questions he had to ask you for the interview and you answered them with a calm ease. It took no time for you and Clark to knock out the interview, and get to spend the rest of the time making several rounds around the park, oblivious of time and space. You were laughing at a joke Clark had made about himself being a small town, country boy, when you suddenly felt the cords of his muscles under your hand turn into steel, cutting off your laugh and glancing up at him.

“Clark?” You frowned at him, as he pulled you both to a stop and he looked around the dimly lit darkness around you, his head tilting slight side to side as he scanned around. “What is it?” You whispered, looking around with him.

“Stay calm.” He told you, softly, taking your hand from his forearm and carefully pulling you behind him, as three guys came out of the dark treeline, beside the sidewalk. “Evening, gentlemen.” He greeted them, every muscle in his body tensing, making Clark come off even bigger than he already was.

“Jesus Christ.” You panted, pressing one hand to your stomach and resting the other one on Clark's hip as you peeked around his arm.

“Hand over the jewelry and cash, and you and your sweetheart over there,” one of the men said, winking at you. “have to get hurt.” He said, the unmistakable click of a knife opening muted out everything else around you.

You looked up at Clark as he slowly shook his head.

“Not going to happen.” He told them, licking his lips. “I'll give you this one warning, to walk away.”

“I don't think, you understand your situation.” Another of the three said, taking a step forward.

“Clark.” You whispered, squeezing his hip.

“It's alright, y/n.” He told you, his eyes still glued to the men. “They're not going to hurt us.” He assured you, grabbing the arm of the guy as he shot forward, twisting his arm behind his back and shoving him to the side.

The one with the knife came at Clark next, raising the knife high. But, Clark easily grabbed him by the wrist, wrenching the weapon out of his hand and punched him across the face, forcing him back into his friends.

“I suggest you leave.” He threatened them, tossing the knife aside and giving them an expression that sucked all the courage out of them. “Now.” He snapped, rolling his jaw as they scrambled to their feet and haul themselves out of the park. “Are you all right?” Clark asked, his body relaxing as he turned around to you, cupping your face in his hands.

“I'm fine.” You told him, looking in his eyes, utterly shocked. “You could've gotten hurt!”

A smile broke out over Clark's face, and his hands dropped from your face. “I'm all right.” He assured you. “I'm use to people trying to fight me, I was bullied as a kid.” He explained, looking back to where the would-be robbers disappeared. “I should get you back to your car,” he added, looking up. “It is getting rather dark.” He offered you his arm again, and you slowly took it, still in shock.

“Of course.” You nodded, letting him lead you back the way you'd come.

“Good night, y/n.” Clark smiled as you stopped by your car.

“Good night, Clark.” You smiled back, still in a bit of a daze over what happened.

He blushed, slightly and started to walk away. “Do you think I could see you again?” He asked, turning back around, spurred by a bit of courage.

“Uh,” You blinked at him. “Sure.” You nodded, ducking into the back of the car and pulling out a card from your bag. “This is my private number.” You told him, holding it out to him. “Just so you don't have to go through headquarters or Felicia, to get a hold of me.”

Clark looked down at the card, then back up at you, spinning the little card around his fingers, nervously. “I'll give you a call, some time soon.” He promised, then wished you good night again, before turning himself towards home.

“Mr. Wayne called, while you were on your little walk.” Hector told you, as he pulled the car away from the curb.

“Of course, he did.” You rolled your eyes.

“He wants you to call him.”

“I'll call him in the morning.” You told Hector, rubbing your neck. “I just wanna go home and sleep, right now.”

Clark was staring at the card with your number on it as he sat at his desk at work, trying to work up the courage to call you, when one of the secretaries for the newspaper came over and told him, he had someone waiting for him in one of the conference rooms. Sighing and slipping the card into his pocket, Clark got up and found the conference room his visitor was waiting for him in.

“What are you doing here, Bruce?” He snapped, closing the door behind him.

“You took my sister on a date last night, disguised as an interview.” Bruce told him, clearly fuming already. “And you almost get fucking mugged in the process.” He snapped, slamming his hand down on the conference table.

“First of all, it wasn't a disguise.” Clark barked back, his anger flaring. “I do admit that when Perry told me to get a follow up interview with her, I also used it as an opportunity to take her out to dinner, I wouldn't call it a date though. Secondly, She was in no danger of those three punks, with me there with her, and you know that.”

“That doesn't fucking change the fact, she could have gotten hurt, Clark!” Bruce yelled, not even bothering to keep his voice low.

“I wouldn't have allowed it, Bruce!” Clark yelled back, moving closer to the table that thankfully separated them. “I would have protected her. I did protect her. They never got within two feet of her.”

“Oh, but they got within three feet of her.” Bruce snapped, mocking him. “Mighty Superman only have a detection range of two feet.”

“I knew they were there, I didn't fucking know they were going to try and mug us.” Clark countered, glancing behind his shoulder, to the door. “There were dozens of people in that park with us,” he told him, calming down. “Not every person that comes within range of her, is going to try and harm her. I certainly never would, and would never, allow anyone else to either. Y/n is as safe with me, if not safer, than she is with you.”

“Oh, you thinks so?”

“I know so.” Clark answered, a sharp tone in his voice. “You're just a mortal human. You get stabbed with a knife and you're fucked.”

“You think since you can take the hit of a bomb, you're better than me at protecting my baby sister.”

“She's not a baby anymore, Bruce.” Clark snapped, that upset him more than anything else in this conversation. “She's an adult, and you need to start treating her like one. You're not pissed off about what happened last night, you're afraid that she might fall in love me.”

“I'm not afraid she might fall in love with you.” He growled, raking a hand over his face and turning away from him.

“Then, what are you afraid of?” He demanded, leaning against the table.

“I'm afraid of her getting hurt.” Bruce said, quietly. “Especially, because I know she's already in love with you.”

“She is?” Clark asked, shocked and staring wide eyed at Bruce's back.

“Yes.” He sighed. “But, I can't allow that.”

“Why?” Clark groaned, rolling his eyes. “Cause I'm an alien.”

“Because, you're Superman.” He answered, spinning back around to look Clark in the face. “How many enemies do you have, that are looking for you to have a weak point? She would be that weak point, Clark.”

“She's your weak point as Batman.” Clark argued, sitting down at the table. “She's your weak point as normal Bruce Wayne, richest man in the world.”

Bruce huffed, sitting down at the table across from him. “I know she is, that's why I go so far out of my way, to protect her.”

“And you don't think, I can do the same?”

“I know you can,” Bruce sighed, feeling older than he really was. “I'm just not use to having to share her, is all.”

Clark laughed and shook his head at that. “We can protect her together, Bruce.” He told him, leaning over the table to him. “It doesn't have to be one or the other of us. It doesn't have to be Clark Kent vs Bruce Wayne, or Batman vs Superman, all the time. We found our common ground on protecting Earth in the Justice League, and we can find the common ground of protecting y/n.”

“I don't want you to tell her, you're Superman.”

“Does she know you're Batman?”

“She does.” Bruce nodded, checking his watch.

“But, you want me to lie to her about who I am?” Clark narrowed his eyes at him.

“She found out about me being Batman on accident.” Bruce told him, meeting his eye. “She found Alfred tending to one of the injuries I sustained after our battle with Steppenwolf. Wasn't like I could exactly lie to her after that.” He ran a hand through his hair, remembering the look on your face when you walked in on them. “But, you're Superman, you won't have that issue.”

“You do recall my dying?” Clark asked, cocking an eyebrow at Bruce.

“The kryptonite was destroyed when you killed that monster, Clark. There's no more of it on Earth, and probably the universe. It's nothing you have to concern yourself with anymore. What you do need to concern yourself with now, if you choice to pursue my sister, is her safety and keeping her in the dark about who you are. We both know the more she knows about who we are, and what we do, is more a danger to her life.”

You sat, cross legged, on Clark's couch with a bowl of cereal balanced in your lap as you watched the news, in one of Clark's plaid shirts. You spent more time in Clark's flat now-a-days then you did your own, and were content to do so. Clark appeared in the door way of his bedroom, watching you as you ate, momentarily oblivious to his presence. He grinned seeing you in his shirt, only three of the center buttons closed to keep the over-sized garment on your small frame, even then it slipped down one of your shoulders. He could still smell the lingering scent of sex from the night before and earlier in that morning.

“You sleep well?” He asked, stepping into the living room.

“I always manage to sleep like a baby, with you.” You told him, looking up at him as you took another bite of your coco puffs.

“That makes me feel good.” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head, then padded into the kitchen to make himself some breakfast. “What's your day looking like?” He asked, glancing around the corner to look at the tv.

“I have to go into work at the lab in an hour or so, then two board meetings.” You answered, setting your bowl on the coffee table, and grabbing the remote to turn up the news. “I do have another conference in Jordan in two days, some issue going on with one of Wayne labs there. Bruce is sending me over to deal with it, since the rep that's there now, is doing fuck all.” You explained, frowning at the news.

“How long will you be gone?” Clark asked, his own eyes glued to the tv as he made his breakfast.

“Shouldn't be more than a week,” You replied, absentmindedly. “With any luck of them being competent.”

“Well, if they're not competent enough to listen to you, they're in real trouble.” Clark joked, reassuring himself that what was happening on the news, wasn't something he needed to rush out and present Superman too.

“I'll fire every last one of the idiots, if they fucking try me.” You said, rolling your eyes at the thought of them giving you issues, which you knew, with men of their caliber and brains, they most certainly would.

“Well, it gives us enough time.” Clark told you, coming to sit down beside you on the couch.

“Enough time for what?” You frowned, turning your head to look at him.

“I wanted to ask you something.” He told you, resting his plate on his thigh.

“Oh, god.” You moaned, seeing the seriousness in his eyes. “Perry didn't fire you, did he?”

Clark laughed, shaking his head. “No, I'm still a reporter at the Daily Planet.” He assured you, with a blush. “We've been dating for a year now...”

“Yeeah..”

“I was going to ask, if you wanted to move in with me...” He said it slowly and quietly, not quite meeting your eyes. “You practically live here anyway.” He added, with a nervous laugh and looking around his flat, he could identify more of your things than his own, in the living room alone.

“That's a serious commitment, Clark. “ You said, just as slowly.

“I know it is.” He told you, pushing the food on his plate around with his fork. “I thought, maybe, we were at that point...”

“Bruce would have a heart attack.” You chuckled, at the thought.

Bruce didn't like the thought of you dating Clark, he didn't like you spent so much time with him, especially in between the sheets. But, he'd stopped nagging you about being with him, almost a year ago. He still gave you disgruntled remarks when you spoke about Clark in his presence, and he always seemed a tiny bit on edge, when the three of you were in the same room together. You didn't care what Bruce thought or felt on the subject, you were happy and content with Clark, the relationship the two of you had together. You'd also never been in such a serious relationship with someone, that you moved in with them, either.

“Does his opinion, matter so much, that it would make an impact on our relationship?” Clark asked, concerned it would, Bruce had promised to ease up on his attitude towards him and his love for you, but, Clark also knew, that what Bruce thought and said mattered to you.

“No.” You shook your head, resting your hand on his arm. “No, Clark, it wouldn't.” You tried to sound as convincing as possible, but could tell by his expression, it wasn't enough. “Just...give me until I come back from my trip, to decide?” You asked, biting your lip.

“Take all the time you need.” He smiled, leaning in to kiss you.

You smiled at him and kissed him back, before getting up to get dressed and rush off to work. You left on your business trip two days later, and both you and Clark called it, when the people in charge of the Wayne Biotech lab in Jordan would give you trouble and annoy the hell out of you. Your temples throbbed as you fell back on your hotel room bed, staring up at the ceiling, the arguments you had with the board still bouncing around your brain, making the migraine you had worse.

“Bunch of brain dead morons.” You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

A loud crash from outside your room door startled you up out of bed, you stumbled away as the door flew open, your back hitting the wall behind you as a disguised man stepped through the opening. The only thing you could see on him, was his eyes, and you didn't like what you saw in them. He advanced towards you, putting you into instant fight or flight mode, and decided to do both. Picking up the closest thing to you, the lamp on your bedside table, and launched it at him, before scurrying over your bed and making for the door. You'd almost made it down to the lift, when he caught up with you, grabbing you by the back of your hair and painfully yanking you backwards against him.

“Hello, Ms. Wayne.” A woman called stepping into the hall from another room.

“Who the fuck are you?” You panted, struggling against your captor. “What do you want?”

“I'm Pamela Evans.” She grinned at you, giving you a once over. “And I want to know about the advanced gene development project you and your brother are working on.”

“We're not working on gene development.” You growled, bearing your teeth at her.

“My sources say otherwise.” Pamela said, grabbing you by the jaw.

“Your sources are fucking brain dead.” You snapped, jerking your head out of her hand.

“I don't believe you.” She growled, giving you a super dirty look.

“That's your issue.” You growled back. “Wayne labs and Industries have never, and will never, do research on the type gene development, you're apparently going on about. Whoever is doing it, is a mad scientist asking for trouble.”

“You see,” Pamela brought her face inches from yours. “I've seen the files on your and Bruce's computers. So, you're going to tell me all about it.”

“You're delusional.” You shook your head the little you could with the man's hand still tight in your hair. “Fuck.” You gasped suddenly, feeling a cold tingle in your thigh and glanced down to see her pull a small pocket knife out. “You don't understand we're no....”

“No, sweetheart, it's you that doesn't understand.” Pamela mocked you, pulling something out of her shoulder purse. “We're going to get that research out of you, one way or another.” She pressed something to your neck and you felt a sharp pain. “I'll give you long enough to sleep off your nap, to tell me.” She said, as the black fog around the edges of your eyes grew and your body went limp.

You woke up God knows how long later, shackled to a concrete wall in a dimly lit room. There were no windows in the square concrete room, a single light set deep into the center of the ceiling and a metal table and a single chair below that. There was a thick metal door opposite of you with a slot window set in it. You were drawn to the sound of that opening, a pair of eyes looking in on you, then slamming shut again. It was several minutes before the actual door itself opened, and in walked Pamela and a man, the man from the hotel. Even with him out of his disguised, you could identify those eyes from a mile away.

“Good morning, Ms. Wayne.” Pamela smiled, giving you a smile that would have made Mary Poppins sick. “Or is it night, Eli?” She asked, turning to the man, who just shrugged his shoulders. “Doesn't matter, have you decided to give me the information I've asked for?” She asked, turning back to you.

“I told you, it doesn't exist.” You told her, groggy and fearful, your thigh throbbed and you could feel a small steady stream of blood ooze from it, leaving a puddle around your foot. “Messing with human genes is dangerous, and ridiculous.” You tried to reason with her.

“Then, what's this?” Pamela asked, pulling a sheet of paper from the table and bring it closer for you to see. “That's an email, from you to your brother on the subject. Telling him, that it was possible for such advancement.”

“It's opinion, not research.” You panted, trying to keep your anxiety at bay. “Someone at one of my brother's many business ventures wanted to know if he thought it was possible to do so, and my brother asked me.” You explained to her. “While, I think it might be possible for such development and advancement, neither of us are conducting research to find out. It's purely academic.”

“Why do you think it's possible?” Pamela questioned, turning her back to you and setting the paper back down on the table.

“I believe anything is possible, with the right circumstances and factors.” You told her, focusing on her back.

“Do you think you could achieve it, if you were to try it?”

“I don't know, and I wouldn't try.” You told her, honestly and shook your head at the thought.

“Even if, your life depended on it?” Pamela asked, smirking at you as she leaned back against the table, to look at you.

“My life, for the lives of all the failed test subjects it would more than likely take to prefect it?” You summed up her thoughts, you knew the math on how many people would be needed to be experimented on, and the decades it would take to achieve on top of that. “Yes, then I'd die, to prevent you and anyone else from trying it.” You nodded, confident in that choice.

“Well, let's see if we could,” She shrugged her shoulders, glancing at Eli. “persuade you.”

Eli dropped a rolled up bag onto the table with a emphasized thump, and rolled it open, revealing several instruments, you didn't need to be a Scientist to know were about to be used to torture and, likely, kill you. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm your heart and make peace with your choice. Eli removed something from one of the pockets, it looked like an ice pick or something, and moved over to you, running the sharp tip down your chest, between your breasts and down your stomach.

“Change your mind now, or I'll let Eli have his fun.” Pamela tried to give you a chance.

“No.” You said in a small, but steady voice.

Pamela waved her hand at Eli, and he easily sank the object into your stomach next to your belly button. You howled in pain, yanking on your bonds as Eli slowly removed it, grinning at you like a little boy on Christmas morning. Eli, luckily, didn't get far in the quest to torture you to death, as serious commotion sounded from the other side of the closed steel door, catching the attention of all three of you. Pamela looked to Eli, then hesitated for a moment, but she moved to the door, she'd just rested her hand on it, when it blew off the hinges, launching her halfway across the room. Eli dropped his weapon and moved away from you, as a figure stepped through the dusty doorway.

“Superman!” He snapped, jaw falling open.

Superman looked from Pamela under the heavy steel door, Eli backing up into a corner and You chained to the wall, head lulling and struggling to keep your heavy eyelids open to stay conscious. He wasted no time dispatching Eli, throwing him across the room as another figure stepped through the doorway and made for you, cupping your head in their hands.

“Y/n?”

You blinked several times, shaking your head and trying to clear way the heaviness in your mind. “Bruce?” You panted, recognizing your brother's voice through the fog.

“It's alright, sis.” Bruce reassured you, taking something out of the utility belt of his Batman suit and cutting you free. “We've got you now. You're safe.” He supported your weight against his body and turned to Clark, standing above Eli's lifeless body, in all his Superman glory.

Clark looked at the pair of you and the pure anger on his face melted, seeing you. “She's hurt.” He said, crossing the room to you, cupping your face in his hands. “She's bleeding internally, whatever they stabbed her with, nicked her intestines. If we don't stop the blood now, she'll bleed to death.”

“I have something on the plane.” Bruce said, lifting your shirt and grimacing at the wound to your stomach.

“It'll take too long.” Clark said, shoving everything off the metal table. “Lay her down, I'll cauterize the wound.”

“I'm not letting you heat vision my sister.” Bruce snapped, shaking his head and shifting your weight against him, to support you as you grew limper against him.

“Bruce, she's going to die, if I don't!” Clark barked, impatiently, resting his hand on your shoulder. “I know what I'm doing, I've done it before.” He tried to reassure him.

“Trust me.” He added, quietly.

Bruce sighed, and let Clark lift you up and lay you down carefully on the table. Clark peeled up your bloody shirt, biting his lip as he saw the wound to your stomach and noticed the one to your thigh. He glanced up through the opening and pressed his lips together, hearing more people coming.

“We've got more guests on the way.” He told Bruce, over his shoulder, trying to keep his focus on you.

“I'll deal with them.” Bruce said, moving around the table and out of the room.

“Y/n.” Clark whispered, resting his hand on your cheek. “Y/n, look at me.”

You blinked hard and groaned as Clark put pressure to your wound, you looked up at the blurry double face hovering above you. “Clark?” You whined, blinking repeatedly trying to clear the strange look your boyfriend had. “Clark?” You repeated his name, stronger this time, but no less confused by what you saw.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He forced a smile, brushing your hair out of your sweaty and grimy face. “I'm going to stop the bleeding, but it's going to hurt, a lot.” He warned you, with a pained expression. “But, you have to hold still and trust me.”

“I've always trusted you, Clark.” You groaned, wincing.

“Good.” He panted, sounding relieved. “Take my hand.” He told you, slipping his hand into yours. “And squeeze as hard as you have too, baby.” He instructed you, his eyes turning red.

You screamed at the top of your lungs at the excruciating burn to your already agonizing wound, squeezing Clark's hand so tight, it felt like the bones of your hand were going to shatter. You'd passed out from the pain and came to sometime later, finding yourself in bed on one of the family jets and Clark sitting on the edge of the bed beside you, holding your hand in his.

“Clark?” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut at the bright lights.

“You're all right, y/n.” He told you, letting your hand go to turn off the lights, and pull down the window covering. “You're safe now, love.” He promised, sitting back down next to you, and brushing his fingers through your hair.

“How?” You moaned, opening your eyes to look at him.

Clark blushed, looking away from you and biting into his lip.

“You're-” You blinked up at him, your mind finally connecting. “Superman.”

He nodded his head, taking your hand and rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

“That's why Bruce was so set against us.” You nodded, regretting it. “He didn't want me dating you because you're Superman, and you two are practically enemies.”

“We're not enemies anymore, y/n.” Bruce said, appearing in the room. “Clark and I are in Justice League together.”

“Jesus.” You sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “The two most important people in my life, have lied to me, to such a degree.”

“We were trying to protect you.” Bruce tried to reason with you.

“Protect me?” You snapped, turning your head towards him. “That bitch kidnapped and tried torturing me, because she thought we were trying to do research on advanced gene development, Bruce. I can imagine what she'd have done if she knew by brother, is Batman, and my boyfriend, is Superman.” You looked at both of them, angrily.

“Advanced Gene Development?” Clark frowned at you. “Why would she think that?”

“Someone contacted Bruce about the possibility of it, and he and I discussed it.” You explained, no less angry. “She got a hold of the emails we exchanged on the subject, thinking we were actually doing it.”

“But, we're not.” Bruce frowned at you, as well. “I wonder how she got those emails as well, they're supposed to be secure.”

“Well, she's got people in a high enough place in the company to get a hand on them.” You snapped at him, annoyed. “Were you ever going to tell me, you're Superman?” You asked, turning your attention to Clark.

“I wanted too.” He whispered, dropping his eyes to your hand.

You rolled your eyes over to Bruce, narrowing them as he refused to look at you. “The fuck of men.” You growled, looking away from both of them.

“He's an alien.” Bruce mumbled, fidgeting with his watch.

“He's got a dick. I know, I've seen it.” You snapped at him, eye twitching. “He's a man. A man from another planet, but a man, nonetheless.”

“I didn't want to know that.” Bruce groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

“And, it's not your business what Clark decides to tell me.” You told him, sharply. “Especially, in reference to my and his relationship, Bruce.” You winced, pushing yourself up more against the pillows piled behind your back.

“You are my wa...”

“I haven't been your god damn ward for over ten years, Bruce!” You shouted at him. “That ended the hour I became eighteen, and you know it! Stop trying to be dad, you're not dad and you never fucking will be! He'd have let me be a long time ago, he'd let me be my own woman, instead of trying to control what I do with my life and who I see, whether they're from this planet or not.”

“I'm your brother, it's my job to protect you.” He shouted back, turning to you.

“Protect me!” You yelled, your voice cracking. “Not keep me prisoner and suffocate me!”

“Let's calm down.” Clark said in a calm voice, squeezing your leg.

“NO!” Both you and Bruce yelled at him at the same time, and making his sensitive ears twitch with the volume.

“You're staying home with me.” Bruce seethed at you, but his tone was quieter.

“Fuck you!” You barked, your voice still loud.

“You're not safe on your own, y/n.” He tried to reason with you, again. “Whoever these people are, who think we're doing advanced gene development, are going to try and get their hands on you again.”

“And you're safe, cause you're fucking Batman.” You mocked him, rudely.

“That,” Bruce snapped back at you, snarky. “and I'm not the head Scientist at the biggest Biotech laboratory, and company, in the world. You, out of anyone on this planet, can make that advanced development happen, and these people know this.”

“As I told that bitch,” You told him, crossing your arms. “I'd rather die. The decades it would take to perfect the genes for testing. Then, the number of lives, the trials would claim to attune the genes for the subject, is astronomical. If, I was the person that could manage to pull this off, perfect the genes, and find the correct subject for them; there's between a five to ten percent chance, it would even work.”

“What would such an advancement even be used for?” Clark asked, leveling an eyebrow at you.

“Anything.” You shrugged, looking at him, brows creased. “You could edit a person's genes for anything, from preventing certain illnesses. Body characteristics, like if you wanted them to be tall and muscular. You could delete genes, so they felt no pain or be more aware of it. You could engineer super soldiers, or make it possible for people to have a long life span. There's so many options, and they're only limited by imagination and technology.” You rubbed the crease between your brows, feeling a stress and tension migraine forming.

“You could create the Earth equivalent of me.” Clark summed it up, a sick feeling in his stomach.

“Yes.” You nodded, that thought hadn't occurred to you. “Pretty much.”

“So, do you understand, why you're not safe?” Bruce sighed, feeling the tension knot up his shoulders. “You need to be somewhere safe, until we get this sorted out.”

“They'll look for her anywhere Wayne Industries is affiliated.” Clark said, softly, rubbing at his neck and looking at Bruce.

“I can have Alfred find us a safe house for her.” Bruce agreed, nodding his head.

“I'll take her home with me.” Clark said, smiling gently at you.

“Your flat isn't safe.” Bruce stated, looking between the two of you.

“I know, it's not.” He answered, still watching you. “I mean, I'll take her to my mom's, in Smallville. No one's going to look for her in Kansas, it's such a small and middle of nowhere town. I'll take time off from the Daily Planet, and stay there with her to make sure she's looked after. My mother could use my help on the farm, anyway.”

“Is this your way of introducing me to your mother?” You grinned, teasingly.

Clark laughed, blushing and nodded his head. “I guess, it is a way to think of it.”

“I like his idea.” You told Bruce, looking at your brother. “He's got a point.”

Bruce sighed, his shoulders slumping, he was begrudged to agree with both of you on the subject. “I'll have the pilot redirect us towards Smallville.”

“You shouldn't.” Clark said, stopping Bruce as he headed out. “If anyone notices a Wayne plane landing at the airport in Great Bend, it'll be a dead giveaway, that's something's going on.”

“Then, how do you propose on getting y/n to your mother's farm?” Bruce asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

A lopsided smirk pulled on one corner of Clark's mouth as he looked at you, eyes sparkling. A slow grin pulled across your lips as you caught on to what Clark was suggesting, and you were more than cool with Superman flying you to his parent's farm. Bruce groaned as he figured out the same thing, rolling his eyes and throwing up his arms, he couldn't fight you two being together and he couldn't fight doing what he had to do, so you were safe.

“Fine.” He sighed, deflated. “We'll land in G.I. Airport as scheduled, and you can take y/n to Smallville from there.”

Clark nodded, pressing your knuckles to his lips. “We'll stop by my place, so we can get a couple changes of clothes before we go.”

“You have clothes at his place?” Bruce asked, looking at you, surprised.

“I've been staying at Clark's a lot the last couple of months, so it's just easier to keep some clothing there.” You answered, blushing at Clark. “He also asked me to move in with him.” You added.

“You never did get the chance to answer me.” He reminded you, glancing up at you.

“I know.” You replied, nodding and biting your lip.

Bruce looked at the two of you, then quietly excused himself and gave the pair of you space and privacy.

“I think, I'd like to move in with you, Clark.” You told him, carefully leaning forward and brushing your fingers through his short curly hair. “I want to take us more seriously.” You admitted, smiling sweetly at him.

“I'd love nothing less, than the same.” He smiled back at you, leaning in and kissing you, tenderly, on the lips.

You rested back, wincing that the discomfort of your stomach. You peeled back your shirt and grimaced at it, even though Clark had cauterized the wound, it still hurt and was tender as hell. Clark gently traced the tips of his fingers around the wound, mindful of sensitive areas and looked up at you, sadness in his blue eyes. You reached out and cupped his cheek in your hand, caressing his skin with your thumb and gave him back a similar sad expression, but one tinged with love and trust.

“It's going to take a bit of time for you to heal.” He told you, his fingers moving down to your torn and stained jeans, where Pamela stabbed you in the thigh. “You'll have scars...”

“I'm use to having scars.” You told him, resting your hand on his shoulder. “Inside and outside.”

The jet landed in Gotham International Airport, Clark easily carried you off the plane and to the car Bruce had waiting for the three of you. You rested your head on Clark's shoulder, you'd tried to sleep on the plane, but you couldn't get comfortable enough. Clark wrapped his arm around your shoulders and rested his cheek on top of your head. The chauffeur dropped the both of you off at Clark's flat, you said good-bye to Bruce, who promised to keep in touch and visit, if he could. You managed for first stairwell and a half up to Clark's flat before the pain in your leg became too much, and Clark carried you the last of the way up. He set you down on the couch and went into the bedroom, dumping his gym bag on his bed, then shoved yours and his clothes into it.

“Okay, I think that should tide us over.” He said, slinging the bag over his shoulders. “If not, I still have clothing at my mother's...”

“And I can always buy some.” You chuckled, smiling up at him. “So, how do we do this, Superman?” You asked, looking up at him.

“Let's go up to the roof.” He told you, going around the coffee table and picking you up into his arms. “It's a good launching pad, since this is the tallest building in a decent radius.” He explained, taking you up the stairs to the roof.

“I'm guessing that was a factor in your renting the place.” You teased him, hugging your arms around his neck.

Clark blushed at you, smiling guiltily. “It was.” He admitted, standing in the middle of the roof. “Hold on really tight and take a deep breath, hold it and I'll let you know, when to let it out, okay?” He explained to you, shifting your weight comfortably.

You nodded, hugging your arms tighter around his neck and took a few breaths, then held it. Giving you a nod of warning, Clark flexed and both of you rocketed into the clouds with an insane speed. What would have taken almost four hours, nonstop, on a normal flight, took less than twenty minutes for Clark to achieve. You panted as he carefully set you down on the dirt driveway of his childhood home. You heard the screen door open and saw a beautiful, older woman step out onto the porch, shading her eyes from the mid afternoon sun.

“Clark?” She called, taking a step down off the porch.

“Hey, Mom.” Clark grinned at her, his hand slipping into yours. “Mom, this is y/n.” He introduced you as she came closer to you both.

“She's the one you've been telling me about?” She asked, grinning at you, brightly. “It's so nice to finally meet you.” She said, giving you a hug.

“It's nice to finally meet you as well, Mrs. Kent.” You smiled, hugging her back.

“Oh, please, call me Martha.” She told you, holding you at arm's length, making your heart skip a beat, finding out the Clark's mother's name was the same as your own mother. “What are you two doing here?”

“Um,” Clark blushed, looking down at Hank as he sniffed around his feet. “There was a bit of trouble, and I need somewhere safe to keep y/n, until her brother and I figure it out.” He told his mother, patting the dog on the head.

“What kind of trouble?” Martha asked, looking between the two of you, and noticed the blood on your jeans and shirt. “Good lord.” She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.

“Mom, it'll be all right.” Clark said, resting his hand on her shoulder and pulling her into a hug. “I'm staying here with you guys, I'll help you around the farm. I know there's a few projects dad started and that I promised to finish.” He pulled back, smiling at her encouragingly.

She stood there, quietly looking up at her son, worried and concerned, but you could see that hint of relief on her face, as well. “Why don't we get you two inside.” She said finally, turning and motioning to the house.

Relieved himself, Clark picked you back up and carried you up onto the porch, stopping as he caught the look on your face. “What is it?”

“I feel like you're carrying me over the threshold, on our wedding night.” You chuckled, resting your hand on his cheek as he blushed.

“I'd be a lucky man, to have you as my wife.” He smiled, teasing you and kissing you softly on the lips as he walked into the house.

Clark carried you upstairs to his bedroom, flicking the light on and setting you down on the double bed. He dropped the bag on the floor and pushed open the window, letting in the cool late summer breeze into the room. with the sound of the wind ruffling the corn stalks, tree branches and tall grass. It felt surreal to you, even the few times you stayed at the country cottage Bruce bought you, there was a busy road not far from it, so you never completely lost the busy city feel. But, here in Smallville, there was none of that, you were literally miles from the busiest road, just endless farm fields, nature and the occasional bark from Hank down in the yard.

“It's so quiet.” You commented, laying back in his bed and grinning at the hanging planets above it.

“Is that going to bother you, city girl?” Clark teased, sitting next to you on the bed, looking up at the planets with you, and tenderly rubbing your good thigh.

“I find it disconcerting, that I can hear my own thoughts without them being interrupted by a car horn, siren or someone yelling a rude comment at someone else.” You teased back, with a giggle. “But, I love how peaceful it is.” You added, in a softer tone, eyes flicker back to his.

“That's one of the things I love about being raised here.” He told you, shifting to lay down on his back, beside you. “It took me a long time to hone my powers, so I didn't hear every huge and microscopic thing. I would sit in the corn field, and just zone everything out, except the sound the stalks made when the wind rustled them, or fixate on a bird, singing in its nearby nest.”

“Are they hard to deal with in a city like Metropolis?” You asked, turning your head to look at him, slipping your hand into his.

“At first it was, cause there's so much sound and its so quick, if that makes sense.” He answered, still looking at the planets. “But, over time, I fine tuned it, and I'm able to control it now, no matter where I am.” He explained, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“That's good.” You smiled, shifting uncomfortably.

Clark turned his head towards you, sensing your pain. “Can I do anything?” He asked, brushing his fingertips over your cheek.

“Not unless one of your super powers, is relieving pain.” You quipped, weakly.

“Sadly, I don't have that super power.” He frowned, sympathetically. “How about a bath instead?” He offered. “Get you cleaned up and into clean clothes, the hot water might even help.”

You let your eyes drift shut at the thought of a nice hot bath, washing off all the grim, dry sweat and blood off your body. “Join me?” You asked, tilting your face towards him, hopeful.

A grin pulled across his lips, and he sat up on the edge of the bed. “Can you make it that far?” He asked, motion to the bathroom door on the other side of the room with a raise of an eyebrow.

“If I can't limp three hops to the bathroom.” You said, sitting up beside him. “You might as well put me down.” You chuckled, but the glint in Clark's eye told you, he didn't find it funny. “I can make it.” You told him, kissing his cheek and propelling yourself up and hopped into the bathroom. “Tah-dah!”

That did make Clark smile, getting up to join you. He helped you peel off your shirt, unbuttoned and unzipped your jeans, carefully tugging them down over your wound. He hadn't cauterized the wound there, Pamela had managed to miss any major or troublesome veins, so it had stopped bleeding sometime ago. It still cut through muscle and nerves, making it hard and largely uncomfortable to walk, or limp for that matter. Letting you lean back against the sink, Clark drew the bath and helped ease you into, before taking off his own clothing. You slid forward, letting him slip in behind you and then eased back, resting against his broad and strong chest, melting as his arms locked around you, his chin resting on top of your head. You both just rested in the hot bath, eyes closed and enjoying the safe and peaceful tranquility of the moment. You could hear Clark's mom bumping around downstairs, humming to herself.

“She's making dinner.” Clark suddenly said, as he read your mind.

“Hm.” You hummed, feeling your stomach growl as the mention of food. “It sounds, and smells, amazing.” You commented back, resting your hands on his as they rested on your waist.

“You want some help, cleaning up?” He asked, tilting his head to look at you.

“How can I say no, to a handsome man, offering to wash me?” You laughed, nodding your head.

“You can't.” Clark laughed, softly, into your ear, pressing his lips to your neck.

Clark let you sit up, between his legs, and picked up the soap and a wash cloth. It felt incredible to have his strong hands on your body, rubbing the soapy cloth into your skin and massaging the tight and stressed knots of muscle in your back. He was mindful of your wounds, rinsing away the soap, before letting your hair down, attentively pouring water over your head to wet your hair, then gently working the shampoo into your hair and scalp, making you moan at the amazing feel. Hair and body washed, Clark helped you out of the tub and dry off, you limped back into his bedroom, picking the bag up off the floor and digging through it for your clothes, while Clark took a shower. You limped downstairs, looking at all the family photos that lined the wall going down the steps, smiling at the younger Clark. You found Martha in the kitchen, stirring something that was in the pot on the stove.

“See you got cleaned up.” She said, smiling as she noticed you standing in the kitchen doorway. “Must feel nice after what you've been through.”

“Incredibly so.” You nodded, taking a seat at the kitchen island. “Dinner smells good.” You complimented her.

“Thank you.” She answered, giving you another smile. “So, tell me, how did you and Clark meet?” She asked, putting a lid on the pot and turning to you.

You blushed, brushing your wet hair behind your ear. “I met him, when he was doing an article on the Charity Gala my brother, Bruce and I, were hosting. He interviewed me at it, and we just kept running into each other, until we fell in love.” You told her, smiling.

“Your brother, Bruce?” Martha asked, brow slowly creasing. “Bruce Wayne? You're Bruce Wayne's sister?”

“I am.” You nodded, frowning back at her.

“He's the one that helped Clark and I get the house back.” She told you, her eyes a bit glassy at the memory.

“Get your house back, how did he do that?”

“Clark was...gone for a while, and while he was away I fell behind in the bank payments, and they foreclosed on the house.” She explained to you, turning back to the stove, needing a psychical distraction. “Your brother and Clark are friends, and he helped us get the house back from the bank.”

“The Smallville Union Bank?” You asked, lifting an eyebrow at her back.

“Yes, you know it?” Martha asked, looking at you over her shoulder.

“Yeah...” You nodded slowly, shocked. “My brother, he bought the bank, out right...” You told her, glancing around as it struck you why Bruce had bought the bank.

“He did it,” Clark's voice came suddenly. “as a gift to me.” he explained, sliding into the seat beside you.

“That's so incredibly sweet of him.” Martha beamed at the two of you, touched.

“It really is.” You agreed, dumbstruck, and looking at Clark, who offered you a small smile, his hand squeezing your knee.

You'd stayed on the Kent farm for nearly two months before Bruce finally did come to visit. He hadn't even so much as call, or send any other type of communication to you, while you were there. He feared that if he did, the people that hurt you would pick up where you were and come after you. So, when he showed up on the porch early one morning, you knew it was because he'd found something out about the people wanting to know about the Advanced Gene Development.

“Bruce?” You said, stepping out on to the porch with him, you'd healed well enough by now that you only had a minor limp. “Did you find out anything?” You asked, feeling your anxiety rise.

Clark had been asleep upstairs, and sensed the rise in your anxiety, he'd become quite attuned to you in the past two months, even more so than he had the year you two spent together back in Metropolis. He figured it was because you two spent every waking moment together, from sun up to sun down, you'd just become synced to him. You also found you really liked the small life of Smallville, quiet and not many people, helping Martha in her garden, and Clark on various of the farm projects; he'd even taught you how to fix the tractor in the barn. So, when he sensed your anxiety, even while dead asleep, he was up and at the screen door in a microsecond.

“Clark.” Bruce greeted him, lifting an eyebrow at the fact Clark was only in his boxers.

“Bruce.” He greeted him back, unbothered.

“I came with news.” Bruce said, turning his eyes back to you.

“Well?” You pressed, sitting down on the porch swing.

“Seems three of the CEOs in the company were working for Pamela Evans, she'd corrupted them.” he started to explain, pacing the length of the porch, which gave you an even more unsettled feeling. “They, ironically, call themselves, the Council,”

“How ominous.” You rolled your eyes, rocking back and forth on the swing.

“It was a rogue group, trying to reproduce and enhance humans,” He looked at Clark, and sighed. “to try and fight any more aliens that might try and take over the planet.”

“Such as Superman.” You understood, glancing at Clark yourself.

“Luckily, they're a small group and easily taken care of.” Bruce went on, leaning back against the porch railing. “I've tracked down most of them, and dispatched them. But, there's one person left, the leader of the group.”

“Pamela wasn't?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No.” Bruce shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Then, who is?” Clark asked, moving to sit on the swing with you.

“His name is Oliver Maddox.” He sighed, rubbing his scruffy face. “He has a very small and faint paper trail, a trail that leaves behind a lot of bodies.” He pressed his lips together, looking at you with a down turned face.

“So, where is Maddox?” Clark asked, on edge.

“I was hoping, you'd help me find him, Clark.” Bruce told him, lifting his head. “If we can eliminate him, then the group will fall apart, and y/n will be safe again.”

“Give me everything you have on him,” Clark told him, adamant. “And I'll take care of him.”

The tone of Clark's voice worried you, but you trusted him. Bruce gave Clark the file on Oliver Maddox, but declined to stay at the farm, even for breakfast, saying he had pressing matters to deal with inside Wayne Industries. You understood that with the corrupted CEOs he had to get rid of, there would be a lot of paperwork and damage control to take of. You sat on Clark's bed after breakfast, worried over the prospect of Clark going after Oliver Maddox, and potentially killing him.

“Y/n.” Clark whispered, leaning against the door jam, and frowned when you didn't answer him. He pushed off the door frame and moved to you, cupping your face in his hands. “Y/n.” He said your name, even softer this time.

You blinked up at him. “You're going to kill him, aren't you?” you asked, quietly.

Clark sank to his knees, moving his hands to hold both of your in his, pressing his lips to your fingers. “If I have to, then, I will.” He whispered, against your knuckles. “But, I will bring him to justice, and keep you safe, y/n.”

You leaned forward and kissed him, deeply, holding his head in your hands. Clark slipped his hands up your arms, gripping your shoulders for a moment, before his hands glided down your back and his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him, so your legs wrapped around him. He stood up, supporting you with one arm under your butt, turning long enough to close the bedroom door, and lay you back down on the bed. He pulled your sweats and panties off, shoving down his boxers enough to get himself free. You ran your fingers through his hair, fingertips caressing his neck and shoulders, nails racking, harshly, down his lean back and dug into his round ass, making him moan and growl into your neck as he sucked on it. His hands went behind your knees, pushing them farther up and rubbing himself against you, causing you to moan around your trapped lip as you bit into it, and you felt his cock grow and harden against your wet core.

“Clark.” You mewled, breathless, using the advantage of your hands grasping his plentiful ass to jerk his hips against you.

“Y/n.” He groaned back, his eyes squeezing shut at the feel of you.

Sex between the two of you had always been balanced and gentle, but this time it wasn't, it felt desperate and rough, like you needed to keep each other grounded by pure force. Clark rocked his hips into you, driving himself deeper into you each time, your hands moved up his back, hooked under his arms and around to his shoulders, nails breaking the skin at the top of his shoulders and making Clark hiss. The headboard knocked against the bedroom wall to the uneven and hard thrusts, catching Martha's attention as she walked into the house from picking vegetables from the garden, for that night's dinner. She looked up at the ceiling, hearing the faint noises the two of you were making, even above the banging headboard, blushed and shook her head.

“Let's go take a walk, Hank.” She called to the border collie, setting the vegetable basket on the counter. “Give the kids some space.” She chuckled, holding open the back door for the dog and following him out.

“I love you.” You moaned, pulling Clark into a kiss as you both came, needing the taste of him on your lips.

“I love you too, y/n.” Clark moaned into your mouth, brushing your hair out of your face.

It was the screen door slamming that woke you up an hour later, you found yourself alone and knew what was going on. You yanked on your sweats and ran down the stairs, your thigh throbbing from the excretion. Clark was standing a few feet away from the porch, long red cape blowing in the gentle breeze, he turned to you, the breath and words you were starting to form stuck in your throat, seeing him fully decked out in his Superman suit. It defined every muscle you worshiped and hugged the amazing curve of his ass. But, it made a huge swelling of pride burst from inside your chest, and a smile crossed your lips. You looked him in the eye, both of you smiling, both of you knowing what he was going to do, and why. Your feet didn't even touch the porch steps as your ran for him and found yourself wrapped up in his arms, his lips on yours.

“Go get them, Superman.” You whispered against his lips. “And don't be late for dinner, Clark.” You added, chuckling as you stepped back.

“I will, and I won't be.” He grinned, then shot up into the sky, a sonic boom punctuating his ascent, before he vanished into the clouds.

[takonei]

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 5, daily life (Part 4)

Note of the author: I had a stroke writing this and you will have a stroke reading this. Sincerely: me.

Chapter 5: An oath to one’s lost humanity - Daily life

...

"It hurts."

"It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts."

"Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts."

"It... It hurts..."

"It hurts... It hurts so much..."

...

...

--

Day 20 since the beginning of the game.

8:00 AM.

The morning announcement rang as usual. Shuichi slowly woke up.

Tomorrow could be the end of humanity itself or the end of the killing game. There weren't any other fates awaiting for them.

Hopefully, they would manage to get through the exisal hangar and destroy them.

Kaito's idea may be completely crazy, but that type of madness is what they need right now.

The others were probably waiting for him, so he got dressed up and immediately left to go to the dining hall.

He didn't encounter anyone on his way, though.

Once he entered, he noticed Kirumi was already there with Miu.

"Hello there." Kirumi greeted him.

Shuichi took a seat next to her. "Have you two slept well?"

Miu scoffed. "I slept like someone who's fate is decided tomorrow. But thank you for asking."

It's not like they could have anything else on their minds.

The three started eating in silence.

Kaito and Kokichi came in soon after.

Of course, Rantaro and Ryoma were still in their own labs.

Once they were done, Kirumi left to get Rantaro since Ryoma wouldn't leave his lab until tomorrow.

The medic didn't seem to get better. His empty eyes held the same heaviness for the past three days. The only thing that changed was how good he was at composing himself in front of them- an ability that seemed to worsen over the days, but that no one commented due to how he would potentially react.

"So? Did Ryoma finish the weapons?" Kaito asked.

"He said he'll be done by the end of the morning. After we eat lunch, I'll get the weapons and you guys will be able to enter the hangar." he replied.

After lunch... It was fine. They would have enough time. And besides, he could prepare himself mentally for this operation.

"Hold on, you're not coming?" Miu asked.

He shook his head. "Nah. There are still things I need to do. Besides I don't think all of us going will be useful. Can I leave this to you guys?"

"Don't worry, we'll take care of these, no sweat!" Miu gave him a thumbs-up.

Rantaro had a point. There were only five exisals. Six of them going would be a waste of time.

"What do we do in the meantime?" Kokichi glanced at the others.

"Well, we can still train, right?" Miu suggested. "It can be useful for later!"

"While on the subject of training..." Kirumi mildly raised a hand. "It has come to my attention that someone here might need more than just training."

Shuichi felt her eyes on him.

"I will take Shuichi with me for this morning if none of you are against the idea."

He swallowed.

The others didn't comply, to his dismay. He glanced at Kaito whose eyes simply said: "Good luck."

Training with Kirumi was probably going to be the most painful experience yet.

The group separated, Rantaro still going to do... 'His own business' as he puts it in his lab and the rest of them left to do their own training.

He followed Kirumi to Tenko's lab. He didn't even want to know what she was going to do to him.

Unless... She had ulterior motives?

Once inside, Kirumi closed the door.

"So."

Shuichi turned to her.

"Now that we are alone, we can finally talk in peace."

He let out a sigh of relief.

"We are not going to be able to talk to Ryoma until the time limit. That's going to be very problematic."

"Y-Yeah..."

Should he talk about how he found Rantaro yesterday? At the same time, this looked like a really personal matter, but Kirumi was the only one he could talk to about the situation.

"We're going to have to proceed differently. Forcing him wouldn't help, I know that, but when I went to get him, he was asleep on his desk. And I mean 'collapsed' asleep." she explained.

"Huh? What was he even doing in his lab?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Beats me. There were different products on the table. Different types of painkillers, from weak to very strong ones."

He hummed. "Were all the bottles opened?"

"I did not make a thorough inspection, but overall most of them were opened at some point, I think."

Shuichi thought back at what could possibly have happened in the lab. And more importantly, the syringe he managed to get a glimpse of. Did it have anything to do with it?

After a moment of silence, Kirumi sighed, rubbing her eyes. "This guy really is giving me a headache."

He couldn't disagree. At least with Kokichi, they knew what was wrong and now know how to avoid problems when it comes to his trauma, but they didn't even know what was up with Rantaro since he refused to talk to anyone other than presumably Ryoma. And the latter didn't talk to anyone else either.

"So... What do we do?" he asked.

She thought for a moment. "... You have Kiyo's notebook, correct?"

His eyes widened. Of course!

"Y-Yes, hold on..."

He rummaged through his pocket and took out the small, dark blue notebook of the now-deceased therapist.

"Kiyo trusted you with this notebook. Not me. It's for you to make a decision whether you tell me what it says about Rantaro or not."

She was right... He did judge Kirumi trustworthy enough, but he still hid things from her.

"... I think I'll judge after I read it."

She closed her eyes. "Understood."

The mercenary looked back at him. "For now we should keep a very close eye on him. Even more than ever."

"Do you think we should go to his lab?"

She slightly shook her head. "I will go alone. For efficiency purposes."

"Wait!" he exclaimed. "What will we tell the others?"

After a short silence, she made a quick movement under her skirt and took out her monopad, before putting it on the ground.

"You will stay here to read the notebook while I try to check on him. I will not be gone for long, but if the others do end up getting here before I come back, just tell them I had to get something in my room."

He nodded. "U-Understood."

But before she left, he muttered some words.

"... I didn't know you would care so much about him."

She stopped in her tracks.

There was a moment of silence. Had he said anything wrong?

"If that is how you see it. I simply feel like we should make sure he doesn't end up hurting himself."

The mercenary closed the door behind her.

... Kirumi was also a mystery, in some way. While Rantaro helped from the light, she was helping from the shadows.

Even if she hadn't gained the trust of everyone -even sometimes hated for her talent-, she was the only one aside from him to see through Rantaro's decomposing cover and willing to investigate.

His eyes stayed fixated on the door for a while.

Perhaps he should start reading the therapist's notes.

How was that thing even organized?

There were several bookmarks of different colors. Some were folded, some were not.

He opened the first page.

Angie Yonaga - Ultimate craftswoman

Upon a quick glance, he realized everyone was listed in alphabetical order. As for the bookmarks, he tried to see why some were folded, but he quickly put two and two together when he realized only eight of them were not folded.

To read them all would be useless at this point. He turned the pages when he stumbled upon Kirumi's.

What had the therapist deduced about her? Perhaps it could have answers to some of his questions.

He shook his head. The mercenary had left to check on the medic, and his role was to read about him.

Perhaps he still could try to look after reading his part.

He turned the pages to find the green, unfolded bookmark.

Rantaro Amami - Ultimate war medic

He took a deep breath and started reading.

-

Day 1 report.

Like for everyone else, I am using this notebook to keep track of everyone's behavior, and possibly help them adapt to this environment.

I did not have time to talk much to Rantaro, but he is of the people who stood out the most to me. He seems to already want to take the lead- in a good way. I can sense he has the instinct to do so. He says he is a war medic, I wonder if he was the chief of a crew or if it's just in him to lead people in dangerous situations. Both are plausible, but I shall study him more to see what enabled this behavior.

I do wonder if he has any sort of trauma linked to war, though.

-

Shuichi almost forgot there was a time Rantaro was the true 'leader' of the group. It felt like an eternity since then. So many things happened from the moment they were captured to now. Half of them have died already and there was a possibility the rest of them would die tomorrow, killing off the last glimmer of hope for humanity.

But the last sentence of the paragraph made him wince. It reminded him of how innocent he seemed back then- before almost killing him.

If Kiyo had a feeling on the first day, then surely he would have gotten more info about it over the days.

-

Day 6 report.

Rantaro is once again taking the lead by making us watch all of our motive videos to gain our memories back. I thought he was going to get us not to watch the videos, but I was proven wrong. He is more of a strategist than I thought. I do wonder if he has any other tricks up his sleeves to face Monokuma or not. He seems to already know someone is going to kill.

This afternoon only confirmed it to me. He seemed extremely forgiving of Miu's murder attempt, although I could also see a hint of uncertainty. Which is normal when you almost died. I hope he manages to play his cards well.

I cannot help but wonder if this side of him is genuine care for her or 'white manipulation' if you could call it that way. He doesn't seem to have any ill intentions, but if Miu learned she was being manipulated (even for a good cause), she would react very badly, I'm certain of it.

For now, I will stay silent, as I do not know his intentions completely, and to throw accusations would destroy the work he has started.

But if Rantaro is indeed able to manipulate people into acting according to his plans, I can't help but worry about what he could possibly do in the future.

I do hope he will not have to do this again, even though that is necessary, to an extent.

-

"White manipulation...?" Shuichi muttered.

He did notice how well Rantaro could act. Now he wonders if back then he had only done this to make her side with them.

He does feel bad though, to know that there was a possibility Rantaro was only taking advantage of Miu's feelings for him, completely disregarding the love and respect she had for him.

Shuichi really did hope there was at least a glimpse of sincerity in his words.

But right now, manipulating them? He indeed wanted everyone to act according to his plan to stop Monokuma, but now he wasn't so sure if there were any other intentions behind it or not. Rantaro never attempted murder... if he didn't count 'that' time. He saw it for himself: He was the most useful in the trials, always pointing out details on either the autopsy and major clues to continue.

Right now he was alone in his lab -with possibly Kirumi-, Ryoma was in his own lab and the others were training. But... that was necessary if they wanted to stand a chance against Monokuma.

... Perhaps he should continue reading.

-

Day 8 report.

Both Kaede and Maki are dead, but the trial let me see strange facets of some of them. Especially Rantaro.

He looks so dedicated to his job, I don't think I've ever seen such loyalty before. As Tsumugi was pushing him over and over again in the hope of getting info out of him, he felt insulted at the theory he would betray us. The emotion he put through his speech- that was genuine. A genuine pride and honor tied to his title as the ultimate war medic. He even insisted he would rather die than betray us.

While I am rather glad someone seemed genuine in his words of never committing treason, it stills makes me feel... Uneasy. I did feel chills hearing that last sentence.

“And I would rather die than to betray this loyalty I swore to myself.”

Those are definitely not the words of a normal person. I can tell he has gone through a lot as a soldier, but then again he never seemed to show any explicit signs of trauma.

I feel like I can trust him. He seems reliable enough as well as a very intelligent person who was a great help during those two trials. And while I do hope we are not going to get a third trial, I am pretty sure he would be just as useful if that happens.

While some of his methods are a bit unorthodox, they do end up being efficient in the end. To entrust Ryoma with his lab key so he wouldn't be able to be pinned for a crime was a smart move. I do hope no one gets the wrong idea with him, though.

As for hiding Miu's murder attempt... He managed to be extremely rational and not let his emotions take the better of him. He could have told everyone about it but preferred to gain her trust instead. Although as I said a few days ago, I do not know for sure if this is about genuine care or manipulation.

Miu did try to kill for her son but backed down because she was unable to actually do it. I think Rantaro sensed her will to fight and is trying to turn it against Monokuma. That's what we are all supposed to do but are too afraid to act because of the consequences. He is trying to redirect us to the path he judges right.

Overall I do not see him as our enemy, but rather as one of the people I trust the most, for now. I hope I will not get proven wrong over time.

-

'Unorthodox methods' was an understatement.

Shuichi was ready to tell the others about what Miu did, but Rantaro had immediately decided not to. Any normal person would lock her and make sure she couldn't harm anyone else, but he decided to give her a chance, and he was right to do so. That was a huge gamble that paid off in the end.

And to enable their will to fight, not against each other but against Monokuma... That was what he called white manipulation.

He thought about the time he and Kaito had gone to his lab during the third investigation. When they learned Rantaro had kept the lethal aspect of his products a secret. It was like he had managed to plan everything in advance extremely quickly.

Shuichi supposed it's his own talent that granted him this sense of organization.

But Kiyo explicitly said he never showed any worrying signs... Which didn't help in the slightest.

-

Day 10 report.

Rantaro has volunteered to take care of the ones touched by the despair disease. It is a noble gesture, and a part of me knew that was going to be the case.

Right now there are no more 'leaders' since he will not be with us to limit the risks of contamination. He even asked Himiko not to stay here too much. And while I cannot talk to him face to face, his words still feel genuine.

As a war medic, he should know better than us about this type of situation, so in the meantime, I shall help those who have trouble coping with the killing game.

He looks trained enough to do his job and I trust him for this. For now, I should focus on those I can talk to.

-

Nothing much to learn here...

Kiyo doesn't seem to doubt Rantaro, but he does not give any sort of information that would help him.

-

Day 12 report.

Rantaro started giving me mixed feelings. I feel like half of what he says is genuine, and the other half feels... Not exactly wrong, but forced. Like he is forcing himself to act in certain ways. To do certain actions.

Himiko, Keebo and Angie died today. I'm still having a hard time processing it all. But right now I am focusing on things I noticed in Rantaro's attitude.

When most of the group separated to investigate, I stayed with both Ryoma and Rantaro to guard the corpse. Right after everyone left, Rantaro probably became the most expressive I've ever seen him. He was truly mad at Himiko's death, and that was genuine. A feeling of guilt I also sensed after the others' death, but Himiko was the one to stand out the most, and I am sure it is because of her cause of death.

When he found out later the most important parts of Angie's plan were made thanks to his lab, plus the fact she tried to pin the crime on him must have accentuated his guilt. He was trying to hide it so he could solve the trial, but it was there.

The rage against Monokuma when he declared Angie had the bloodlust disease is completely genuine as well, I do not doubt it for one second.

However, when he grabbed Monodam to make him face Himiko's mangled body, he was clearly forcing himself. Was he trying to prove a point to the robots? To encourage us to fight? Or is it something else entirely? I could tell he knew that was not a good idea and that he had the emotional capacity not to snap. He did it with rationality and I cannot tell why he took such risks.

I want to believe in him, but this is starting to worry me. I should try to keep an eye on him.

-

He is.. pretending? But for what?

What would he even prove to Monokuma by threatening his cub? The bears had much more power than him at the time. Taking risks without any reason behind it was not like Rantaro at all. Was Kiyo wrong?

At least it's more than he ever learned. But still, he knew Rantaro was hiding things, but to fake irrationality... Why? He knew showing signs of weakness could cause the others to lose hope, so why do it on purpose when everything he has done up until now is trying to get them to fight Monokuma?

Or was it like the second theory- to encourage them to fight?

Shuichi had no idea what the medic was thinking, although that was not new.

He should read more.

-

Day 14 report.

Once again Rantaro took the lead for the 4th motive.

It's not that I mind, but we will have to stay separate for the most part, and Rantaro seems to want to stay with Ryoma for the time being. The two seem close, now that I think about it. And both often give their inputs in the trials, although Ryoma is a bit more silent. I suppose their experiences as soldiers must have made them closer than with anyone else. I do hope I am not wrong by making this assumption.

Although there is something that worries me. Ever since Himiko died, Rantaro seems more on edge. My guess is that since her death was more brutal than the executions themselves added to the fact that he was drugged the time this crime was committed, he must think he could have done better and even save her had he been less 'careless'. I do not know if he knows that it is not his fault, unfortunately. I can only hope. If someone had asked me a few days ago, I would have said with no hesitation that he knew that. But now I'm not so sure anymore.

He may have faked his reaction back in the shrine of judgment, but if more actions end up feeling genuine, I might have to step in.

-

Himiko's death had shocked everyone, not just Kokichi. Even though the boy was the most mournful, they all deeply missed the astronomer.

Her death changed them all in some way. Miu became way more motherly, Kiyo acted on his own because he judged he was the one to blame for this, Kokichi was torn apart because his disease was the reason she died, and now Shuichi learns that Rantaro was actually feeling the exact same guilt as everyone else.

But finally, he was getting a glimpse of what was wrong- something related to his past on the battlefield and the guilt he is holding.

Surely Kiyo would have...

...

... He didn't have time to get any more information, did he?

This note was written one day before his plan to stop the supposed mastermind. He didn't have time to write more.

However, there was one last note, hastily scribbled on the last page. It looked like Kiyo was in a rush when writing it.

-

This is the final note I shall write. Everything has gone wrong, and Shuichi, since you are probably the one reading this, I am sorry for lying to you all. I am sorry for betraying you and I shouldn't have made this disastrous plan in the first place, but I need to write this.

It's not that I'm distrusting Rantaro, but something is deeply wrong. Something I don't have an explanation for, and of course I cannot ask him because I have to pretend to investigate with you all.

But the way he was standing, the heaviness in his eyes, the way he reacted to Tsumugi's death, this intense guilt in his expression... It's not something I've ever seen before from him. He always had a comforting smile and a genuine will to help. But now it's different. It's like he completely shut down, only leaving an empty shell deprived of reason.

But that doesn't make any kind of sense. He didn't show even a single sign of trauma up until very recently. Not a single time. I've noticed his actions started feeling off during the motive and brushed it off because I was focusing on the mastermind, but there was a hint of hesitation, of uncertainty that was never present in him. But now that Tsumugi is dead, he has been showing those signs of trauma -whether it is indeed PTSD or something worse- more than ever.

I fail to see the meaning of this, but that may be because I didn't have time to talk to him at all. He might have just completely snapped all at once. It's very rare to be able to swallow all the pain that well, but if we keep in mind his early life, that actually might not be that much of a stretch.

Anyway, I know this is going to be hard considering he is not the type to let himself crumble -besides the eventual faking-, but I need you guys to keep an eye on him and possibly help him with this. He is the one who will need it the most.

I will not be here to help you and I don't have the time to write methods on how to deal with PTSD, and I do not know how to deal with war trauma of all things. Added to the fact I didn't get to witness it much, all I can say is good luck. I know you can help with patience and perseverance.

I have faith in you all.

-

...

...

A note before the trial. The last thoughts of the therapist about them. But...

What did this even mean?

Somehow he could understand the 'shut down' part due to what he witnessed these last few days... But he could not even apprehend anything else on this note.

"He showed subtle signs and then... broke d-

The door opened, startling him. He instinctively closed the notebook, letting out a high-pitched noise. "Ah!-"

Kirumi stared at him for a moment. "... I'm back."

"I-I can see that."

She approached him. "So? Anything new?"

Shuichi looked back at the notebook for a moment. "He... never mentions any sort of trauma. Only that it seemed... sudden."

The mercenary raised an eyebrow. "Sudden...?"

"He said he only showed very subtle signs of trauma but never mentioned anything else about it. Only that he seemed to have snapped when Tsumugi died."

She pondered for a moment. "... Which does not help us apprehend the situation at all."

"He only mentioned PTSD or 'maybe worse', but he never got to talk to Rantaro about it."

"Rantaro stayed with the ill ones during the third motive, and we had to stay separated during the fourth motive. So I can understand that part."

Shuichi stared at the notebook for a moment. "Was the mastermind... trying to do that?"

She looked back at him, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"Trying to separate Rantaro from Kiyo- the therapist. Rantaro is one of the smartest ones here... Were they trying to make sure those two couldn't talk?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I am starting to think this is a possibility."

"They have managed to manipulate Kiyo, I wouldn't be surprised if they took Rantaro's trauma at their advantage. To exploit the weaknesses of the ones causing them the most trouble."

He winced at the thought. "Which means we'll have to keep an eye on him at all times... If he lets us."

"Which I doubt he will. You should know Rantaro by now as well as I do."

He could only agree.

"Wait, how did it go? Did you... talk to him?"

She went silent for a moment. "I did confront him, yes."

He felt his heart skip a beat. "S-So...?"

"He refuses to say anything. I did try to ask him to join us in our training and at least be with someone, but he snapped at me saying he already trains alone, and has the medicine to prepare. I couldn't get a single thing out of him."

"Oh..."

There was a long silence.

"Should we... train anyway?"

"Sure. What I do is more of an aiming exercise than something physical. A technical exercise, if you will."

At least he wouldn't get exhausted this time.

Kirumi first gave him a simple exercise with the target and the darts from Kokichi's lab, which at first didn't sound too bad. That is, until they changed the difficulty from 'peaceful' to 'throwing knives at a moving target.' At least his aim at the end of the training was decent.

Finally, Kokichi went to get them for lunch.

After that, Rantaro would get the weapons and they would finally make their way to the exisal hangar.

Hopefully, his plan would work.

They reunited, but lunch was pretty silent as they didn't have much to say.

After eating, they stood up.

"So? What about those weapons?" Kaito asked.

"I will go to Ryoma's lab. You guys can still train in the meantime if you want." the medic replied.

Did that mean it was going to take longer than expected?

Either way, Rantaro was already on his way.

"So... What do we do now?" Kokichi looked at the others.

"I guess we're back on preparing ourselves." Kaito shrugged. "Not like we have much to do."

"Then how about we go to the warehouse? There are still the dumbells here!" Miu suggested. "And you will have to train your strength one day or another!" she pointed at Kokichi.

"O-Okay??"

They made their way here. But as soon as Miu started going through the boxes, the lights suddenly turned off.

They stood there for a moment. The sun still shone through the windows, but the additional lights were gone.

"Weird... Aren't they always turned on?" Kaito raised an eyebrow.

"That is strange. None of us pressed a switch or anything similar." Kirumi noted.

"I'm guessing the power went out..." Shuichi noted. "But it never happened in the academy, did it?"

Kaito shook his head. "Nope. Not even once."

"Well, I guess there's a first time for everything." Miu shrugged. "Should we go outside instead?"

They didn't have many solutions. It was still too dark to do proper training.

The group made their way outside. Since Rantaro would soon come with the weapons, they decided to do simple exercises outside.

Shuichi was still anxious about this. Sure, he knew a way to open the hangar, but would the weapons work? Surely, Monokuma would try to do something, right?

Who knows.

Around fifteen minutes, later, Kaito broke the silence. "What's taking him so long? I know Ryoma's lab is on the fifth floor but still."

"Agreed..." Shuichi muttered.

"Should we go and see what happened? Maybe the blackout did something." Miu suggested.

"No need for it. He's right here." Kirumi said, head turned towards the main door where Rantaro just appeared.

He had a backpack that Shuichi assumed to be full.

He approached the group, put the bag on the ground, and opened it.

"Those are the weapons we used for the tunnels and new ones. There are now grenades in there that are powerful enough to do heavy damage, so be careful keeping a safe distance when activating them. You guys should be able to disable the exisals with that." Rantaro explained.

Grenades powerful enough to destroy exisals?

That was definitely not what he had in mind, but... Perhaps they could change their plans, if Kaito accepts giving up on his dream to pilot the exisals.

"So you are still not coming with us?" Kirumi asked.

The medic thought for a moment.

"... Perhaps it should be better if I go with you guys indeed."

Rantaro didn't say anything as he distributed the weapons to everyone. The grenades looked very small compared to the damage they are supposed to do. They were about the size of a tennis ball, with Ryoma's sigil printed on them. They were a bit heavier than what Shuichi expected an item of this size to be, but it wasn't too bothering.

"Shuichi, I really do hope your method will work." Kaito said.

"Even if it doesn't, I'm pretty sure these will be enough to destroy the door." Rantaro eyed him.

He did hope this would work indeed. Not that he disliked the bombs, but it still worried him.

They made their way to the exisal hangar.

Shuichi noticed the lights were still on, which meant the blackout hadn't touched the hangar.

"That's weird... I thought the blackout happened in the entire academy." he noted.

"Yeah, that's right! Is it because it only touched the main building or something?" Miu added.

"Strange. Rantaro, did you also get it on the fifth floor?" Kirumi asked.

"I did experience it. Fortunately, there were emergency lights in Ryoma's lab. He said he'll work a way to create a sustainable light source in case this ends up being a long term problem."

Shuichi wondered if all the labs had those. Probably, but he would have to check sometime.

This made him worry about the state of the academy. Perhaps throwing bombs around and using hacking guns could do serious damage, and without electricity and thus heating, refrigerators, and many other essential elements in the academy. they were better off dead.

At last, they reached the shutter.

"So? Will you finally tell us your technique?" Kaito asked again.

Shuichi nervously approached the pad where he had to type the password.

"... Kokichi, could you come here for a second?"

"Um... Sure..."

The smaller boy placed himself next to him. "What... do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. Let me just..." He placed a hand on the keys, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.

He could sense the others silently wondering what he was up to.

"... Actually no. Miu, can you come here too, please?"

She raised an eyebrow. "O...kay? What's the big deal?"

"I want you to press keys at random until I say stop."

They all looked at him with dumbfounded eyes -except Rantaro, who somehow already knew what the plan was-.

"What the fuck?! That's your plan?" Miu exclaimed.

"There's one in a trillion of a trillion chance she'll get it right! Did you seriously think this would work?!" Kaito added.

"No, it can work."

Everyone turned to Rantaro.

"There is a chance it can work. Right Kokichi?"

The smaller boy jumped. "Y-Yes... I think she can do it."

"If karma is fully on her side, then I think she can get this one in a billion chances."

Her eyes widened and turned to the violinist. "You planned to use karma for this??"

He nodded. "That's why I'm asking you to type the code. You out of all of us are the most likely to succeed."

The street artist felt the gazes of her friends on her.

"I... I'll try."

She placed her hands on the pad. "So... I just type random numbers?"

"Yes, don't think while you type. And stop the exact moment I tell you to."

She paused in front of the pad. Shuichi closed his eyes to focus.

Miu closed hers as well and started typing, the beeping echoing through the room.

The intervals between the noises were short, but keeping track of them wasn't much of a problem.

beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep-

"STOP!"

Miu instinctively took her hands off. "Is it good?"

Shuichi swallowed. "I think we can press enter."

He was very nervous. He really hoped this would work.

tic!

A loading logo appeared on the pad, everyone staring at the machine with anxiousness.

Password correct!

Shuichi's eyes widened. "It... worked?"

Miu laughed and started ruffling his hair. "It worked! Shuichi, you're a genius!"

"I-I guess? Thank you?"

"And thanks for the karma, Kokichi! We couldn't have done it without you!"

He weakly smiled. "T-Thanks, Miu."

Kaito cracked his knuckles. "Alright! Now that this thing's open we can get in!"

"We shouldn't let our guard down. We don't know if Monokuma is ready to stop us or not." Kirumi advised.

"Agreed." Rantaro added.

They proceeded with caution as the door opened for them.

They slowly entered the hangar, checking every side to see if the bear was here to stop them.

... But nobody came.

"So." Rantaro approached the first exisal with his hacking gun, pointing it at the machine. "If the gun works, the exisal opens."

Kokichi looked unsure. "And... What if it doesn't?"

The medic shot a quick glance at him.

"... Then we're blowing this place up."

Shuichi felt his heart skip a beat. When he had requested weapons to Ryoma... This isn't what he had in mind in the slightest.

"H-Hold on! Ain't that a tad too dangerous?" Kaito exclaimed.

"Well, do you have any other plans?"

The biker went silent. "N-No..."

"If they don't open with the guns, we have no choice but to destroy them."

He took the grenade to look at it. "Ryoma made these specifically to destroy them. He is the ultimate weapons maker, I'm pretty sure those bombs are more than enough."

Shuichi was still worried. If Ryoma's bombs were as powerful as he just said, weren't there risks they would hurt or even kill themselves?

He could only hope the guns would work.

Rantaro pointed the gun at the blue exisal and shot it five times.

But it didn't move.

"Perhaps we should check if we can open it." Kirumi suggested.

She approached the engine and tried to move it...

... Without success.

"S-So the guns don't work?" Miu asked, already knowing what's coming.

"Nope. That means the system to open them isn't electric, but mechanical. We can't do anything with the guns." Rantaro noted.

Kirumi crossed her arms. "I had inspected them several times the day we discovered the hangar. They don't have an opening mechanism that can be used by hand."

"Then... We have to destroy the exisals?" Shuichi looked at the two.

"... We don't have a choice."

He didn't expect Miu to say that.

"We have a way to put an end to this, so let's blow these up!"

"Are you sure about this?" Kaito turned to her.

She nodded. "If you want to, you can wait for us outside. Just give your bomb and we'll take care of it!"

Since Kaito couldn't run, to escape the explosion would be hard. Perhaps he should indeed distance himself so he wouldn't have to risk his life.

The biker gave his bomb to Miu and left.

"See you soon, good luck!" He waved at Miu, who waved back. "Gotcha!"

Everyone had their bombs in hand.

"You pull the grip, throw next to the exisals and run away as fast as you can. Ryoma told me we have ten seconds to run before they explode. Which should give us enough time to distance ourselves from the explosion. Got it?"

Shuichi nodded.

"3..."

He held firmly the grenade.

"2..."

Hand on the trigger, hoping this would go well.

"1..."

He was about to pull the grip, but-

"AHEM!"

A familiar robotic voice was heard from behind them.

A voice they all hated.

They all turned around to see Monokuma had made his apparition.

"My, my! That was quite the elaborated plan! I'm sad you guys don't put that much effort into killing! To use Kokichi's karma to open the door, then grenades to destroy the exisals? I didn't think you would go that far!"

... Well. Shit.

Of course, Monokuma would barge in at some point. It was about time he did something to annoy them.

"However, that would be very unfortunate for me if you guys end up destroying my precious exisals!"

Rantaro glared at him. "You just had to ruin our plans, didn't you? I was surprised you didn't show up sooner."

"I wouldn't call it 'ruining your plans'. You see, I call it 'Killing game management'!"

Kirumi rolled her eyes. "So? Stop beating around the bush and tell us what you're planning to do."

He groaned. "Impatient, aren't we? Let me at least make things enjoyable for our audience!"

Kaito looked at him with a deadpanned expression. "Stop fucking around, you stupid dramatic theater kid. No one is watching and no one cares."

"Fine! Fine! I simply added an additional rule for our lovely stay at the academy! Make sure to keep it in mind!~"

Shuichi took out his monopad that just vibrated and turned it on to see the new rule.

#17: Any person damaging the headmaster's personal property (Exisals, kids) will be faced with punishment.

"Oh, come on!" Miu yelled. "Couldn't you tell us sooner?!"

"Puhuhu! Why would I? It was fascinating to watch all of you prepare this meticulous plan, and to almost destroy my precious exisals! By the way..."

The bear took out a set of keys he span around his paw. Four keys, each marked with a color- blue, red, pink, and yellow.

"Those exisals can only be opened by my precious cubs! I would never -ever- give you guys the keys!"

If the cubs had the keys and Monokuma took them back after their deaths, then only Monodam had his key left.

Although that didn't mean he would help them.

"Now, shoo! You wouldn't want to be executed for such an idiotic mistake!"

Shuichi was mad. But he had to restrain himself. He glanced at the others.

They didn't have a choice but to leave, no matter how much they wanted to complete their plan.

The group slowly walked out, disappointed by the outcome of this mission.

They had to go back to the original plan, to fight the exisals once the time limit comes.

Miu explained to Kaito what happened back there, the latter also mad at Monokuma.

"So... What do we do now?" Kokichi asked.

"We'll stick to what we planned to do. You guys continue your training, I'll bring back the bombs to Ryoma."

Shuichi didn't expect anything else.

He thought about the notebook. Should he make an excuse to read more of it? Perhaps he could try to understand better what Kiyo was trying to say, and he was also curious about Kirumi.

But at the same time, he had to train with the others. They wouldn't be able to survive if he doesn't get fit before the next day.

Rantaro left to go to the main building.

Kirumi was keeping an eye on him. She obviously didn't like the idea of leaving him alone.

And neither did Shuichi

"K-Kirumi? You did aiming exercises with Shuichi, right?" Kokichi turned to the mercenary.

"Yes, I did. I am guessing you would like to train with me?"

He nodded. "I know I don't have any kind of brute force, but... I still should try to get better at aiming, right?"

She hummed. "It would be preferable, yes."

Miu put her hands on her hips. "We may have failed now, but we're not giving up! C'mon, Shuichi! I heard from Kaito you weren't exactly the strongest~"

Shit.

"R-Right..." he faked a smile.

Kaito wrapped an arm around his neck. "You're coming with us whether you like it or not!"

He could throw the plan to keep an eye on Rantaro in the trashcan, then.

But they were right on one thing: They needed to train.

They headed to the main building, but noticed the blackout was still happening.

"When will Monokuma bring the lights back? Sheesh, he could at least do that instead of giving us stupid rules." Miu groaned.

"Do we still train here or...?" Kaito crossed his arms.

She hummed. "I guess we can take the dumbells outside. That's gonna be our first exercise!"

... He was going to be the one transporting them, wasn't he?

The trio got to the warehouse, thankfully still illuminated a bit by the sunlight.

"Hey Shuichi! Take those dumbells outside, would ya?" the street artist grinned.

I knew it.

They ended up encouraging him as he transported the heavy box outside. The encouragements didn't do much, but it was still nice to have them by his side.

The three trained for a while. Shuichi was getting better, to the others' pleasure.

Good thing those two were good at motivating.

"I'm... I'm exhausted..."

Kaito laughed. "Alright, alright. We can take a break."

Shuichi laid on the grass and looked up to the sky- or rather the fake sky.

It may be nothing but a screen simulating the day/night cycle, but that was also the symbol of all the efforts the Gofer project scientists had put to ensure their survival.

They could not fail this fight. Not now.

There was a long silence.

...

"Do you think we're going to make it?" he asked.

Ryoma could make weapons, yes, but would that be enough against Monokuma?

Did he have any other trick up his sleeve?

What would... What would the one behind it all do?

"I have hope in us."

As expected, Miu was the one to talk.

"I said it before and I say it again. We can't consider defeat as an option. Whatever is in front of us we will fight it."

"I promised to Kaz that I would live, that I would be one of the salvagers of humanity, and I'm keeping my promise."

"And I want you guys by my side too."

But no matter how many encouragements Miu would give, his worry would never die down.

However, seeing her so determined about this helped a little anyway.

After a long pause, they decided to continue the training, this time he and Miu cheering for Kaito who was trying to run with dumbells. He did end up falling more than once, though.

But every single time he got back up. Sometimes needing help, but overall being more than able to help for the next day.

Perhaps those training sessions did more good than he thought, both physically and mentally.

Some long hours later, they could see the sunset in the distance as they all sat on the ground.

...

"This... This may be the last time we ever see the sun setting. If we can even call it that way." Kaito broke the silence.

Miu groaned. "What did I say earlier?! We are going to fight! And we are going to win!"

"I know! I know! But still!"

Miu turned to the source of this beautiful golden light. "... But I get what you mean."

The screens reflected almost perfectly the colors they used to watch on summer nights, back before the killing game.

When everything was normal.

...

"Oh, you guys are here!"

A voice came from behind- Kokichi.

"Hey there! Have you guys trained well?"

Kirumi, who was accompanying Kokichi, approached the group as well. "We are fine."

The two turned to the sunset as well. A calm and peaceful scene.

A wave of nostalgia hit him. Of summers spent with friends, dancing around the beach with their families watching them.

Moments he wanted so much to live again, but couldn't.

...

"I see things are going well on your side."

Shuichi almost jumped at the voice.

Rantaro had joined them as well, to his surprise.

"I'm glad you guys are still up to this very last battle." he said with a weak smile- a weak smile still not hiding the emptiness in his tired eyes.

"Anytime, sweetie! We're ready to fight!" Miu gave him a thumbs-up.

Shuichi couldn't help but smile as well. "I've been getting stronger thanks to you all. I think... I think we can do this."

"T-That's right! We've been training and I'm sure that with Ryoma's weapons we can end this!" Kokichi exclaimed- although his voice was still lower than most of theirs.

"Then I believe we can survive this fight." Kirumi crossed her arms, her voice low, but confident. "I believe tomorrow this killing game will end."

It was rare hearing such words from her, but they truly felt sincere.

"Then how about we take a break?" Kaito suggested, standing up. "We've been training all day, how about we relax a little?"

Rantaro sighed. "As much as I hate it, I have to agree. Perhaps we should indeed end for today."

Shuichi smiled. Finally, the medic admitted taking a break was necessary.

The group stared off into space.

The sky may be nothing but a pale copy of reality, but those rays of sunlight still warmed their hearts.

They were here. Six of the seven survivors of humanity. And if they were chosen as ultimates to save it, then they were going to fight until their very last breath.

Their journey was coming to an end.

A long and painful journey of what felt like endless suffering.

Tomorrow would mark an end to this game, and they would finally live in peace.

But right now, they just enjoyed the silence. The comforting artificial light from the dome.

Though the wind was not present, Shuichi could almost feel a light breeze on his face.

A calm before the storm, and hopefully then, calmer than they ever have been.

...

Shuichi turned back to the group. "How about we relax for an hour and then we get to dinner?"

"Sounds good to me! I need a shower." Miu stood up as well.

They all agreed, heading back to the dorms.

Shuichi started walking but noticed Rantaro was staring at the building- or the void, most likely.

"Are you okay, Rantaro?"

He turned back to the violinist. "Huh? Sorry, I'm coming."

Once in his room, Shuichi let out a sigh. He really needed a shower as well.

After that, he looked at his monopad. 45 minutes left before going to the dining hall. Perhaps he could finally read a part of Kiyo's notebook.

He sat on his bed and opened it to Kirumi's page.

The violinist may be worried about Rantaro, but he was curious about her as well.

Kirumi Tojo - Ultimate maid (?) mercenary

Shuichi forgot for a moment she was known as the ultimate maid for a while. But if he did note a question mark, did that mean he was doubting her even before the reveal? That wasn't that surprising actually.

-

Day 1 report.

Like for everyone else, I am using this notebook to keep track of everyone's behavior, and possibly help them adapt to this environment.

I do not know this person well, I will admit. However, I am pretty sure she was lying about her talent, at least partially. She may be in a maid outfit, but I have a feeling she is hiding things. I do not wish to point things out so soon. After all, cooperation is the key to survival in a killing game. One simple thing could lead to a disaster.

Who knows what would happen if I exposed her as a liar so soon. Besides, I lack concrete evidence to do so. I should keep an eye on her to see if I can get any information out of her behavior.

-

Even on day 1? Shuichi didn't know what he expected, but certainly not that soon.

Good thing he didn't expose her back then, though. He doesn't even know how he would have reacted.

He did learn it during a trial, which was why he had to brush it off rather quickly to solve the current mystery, but had she been exposed at any other moment he would have probably panicked a lot more.

At least Kiyo knew what consequences it would have had.

-

Day 5 report.

Kirumi is definitely not the ultimate maid.

I have heard from Tsumugi's group that Kirumi wished to stay in her lab for a moment before any of us could even enter. She may have gotten out of her lab afterward, but I have my doubts.

I did end up talking to her, though, in her lab of all places. The lab did look like it belonged to a maid, but something is amiss, I can feel it. And I am pretty sure she knows I know. She looks like she is carefully choosing her words every time she talks to me.

In her lab, our conversation was rather interesting, although I do not doubt for one second that she was lying through her teeth about certain things, mostly her daily life. I have a few theories about what she could be, although my main theory is that she is indeed a criminal, and not the 'robber' type. I would not be surprised if she revealed to have killed people in the past. How many? That I do not know, but she surely did.

I do understand why she stays silent about it, though. Even I, the first day, realized anything can make us crumble. I do not know if we will ever know one day, but knowing Monokuma, he would surely find a way to rat her out.

Although there is one thing that reassures me, is that she does not seem like the serial killer type. If she really took pleasure in killing, she would have done so during the first blood perk motive.

So I am guessing she is a retired mercenary or assassin. I do not know what could have made her stop her career, perhaps I should talk to her once her talent is fully out.

-

Even back then he knew about her being a mercenary, or at least an assassin.

He was really glad he didn't tell anyone. But was it the reason why Kirumi got Maki's motive video instead of hers? Monokuma did blame it on his cubs, but there is a possibility this was on purpose.

After all, how else would she get her talent out in the day? Just seeing her lying about her talent must have given him the will to expose her himself with the second motive.

He was glad Kiyo acted carefully back then.

Back then...

He preferred not to think about the fourth trial again.

-

Day 8 report.

So she is indeed the ultimate mercenary, just as I thought.

A strategical woman who does not wish to take unnecessary risks. She looked unhappy to have her talent exposed by Keebo and Ryoma, which is more than understandable. However, they did not specify if she was retired or not, which worries me a little. But since she is a mercenary and not an assassin, I think she does not wish to kill someone unless there is a reward behind it- most likely money.

Although I fail to understand why she didn't kill anyone during the first blood perk if she knew how to kill. Actually, now that I think about it, it might be because she realized the same thing as me- the fact that Monokuma may or may not have been lying about letting us go scot-free. And since Kirumi is intelligent as well, that is the most plausible possibility. A distrustful and independent nature has its perks.

I will try to talk to her about it during the next few days, but I will have to balance her with a few others, such as Kokichi, Rantaro, and Tsumugi.

-

Kirumi had mentioned retiring if she could, which meant she was indeed still active before the game.

And she did tell him about the reason why she didn't try to kill anyone for the first blood perk. And as Kiyo said, it was because she realized Monokuma may have been lying.

A strategical woman indeed.

But Kiyo also seemed to have realized that Monokuma may have been lying as well, but perhaps he feared the direct consequences of exposing him.

It's not like he could ask him now.

-

Day 9 report.

Kirumi is indeed an interesting person. Now that her talent is out I got to experience her real self. She is still helping with tasks, this time with Miu by her side, that I am glad didn't isolate herself from the group after the incident.

Miu aside, Kirumi seems to have mixed feelings about her own job. That if she had any other opportunity, she would retire, but that circumstances didn't allow her to do so. I did ask her how it was affecting her- to kill people for a living. However, the moment I even tried to talk about the subject, she glared at me and immediately closed herself off. It isn't anything surprising, really. To bring yourself to describe your killing career must be very hard. But in that case, she just doesn't want to, I think.

She doesn't show any signs of trauma, though I could be wrong. Since she is a strategist, she must know that showing weakness could cost her a lot. For now, I will try to focus on other people, since she seems very reluctant to talk about her feelings.

Although she did talk about preferring to end her targets' lives as painlessly and quickly as possible. That making people suffer and torturing them was not part of her job. On that point, I can respect her. She knows killing is wrong, and I can sense a respect for the dead coming from her. A necessity not to kill those who aren't involved with her job.

At least she is more reasonable than I first thought when I heard about her talent as a mercenary.

-

To respect the dead... That was exactly what she talked about a few days ago when she reproached them that they didn't respect those who died and their wishes. Kaito had taken it the wrong way, but this was what she really meant.

When they talked later, Shuichi learned that she wouldn't kill if she didn't have to and that she mostly did so to survive, putting her life before her targets'. It was a selfish mindset, but... Could he blame her?

Killing was horrible, and it is an unforgivable crime. He knew that more than anyone.

But as Kiyo said, at least she hated making people suffer.

He was really glad she was on their side.

-

Day 13 report.

Himiko's death was a shock for everyone. There is no questioning that. But Kirumi's stone-cold facade finally crumbled enough for me to see some specks of humanity in her.

Although she does have experience in killing, her reaction upon seeing Himiko's corpse was almost just as normal as ours. Pure horror. I didn't expect Himiko to be tortured in such a way either. I wanted to vomit.

But to see her shocked about her death proved me right on a point. She does respect the dead a lot. I do not know how exactly she achieved this mentality, but I presume this is because of her job. To watch people suffer weighs a lot on someone's mind, so making things quickly would limit the damage on her psyche.

Deep down she does feel the same horror as us to this madness.

And her last interaction with Angie only intensified this feeling. When she grabbed Kokichi to torment him, Kirumi was the only one who had the nerve to step in and slap her away, denying whatever similarities the two could have, and I suspect this mentality is the 'why'.

Two killers, yet drastically different ideologies, although I do not think I can consider Angie's bloodlust disease as an ideology.

I should try to get through her again if I have the chance.

-

...

There is nothing else in the notebook about her.

Kiyo had stopped writing about the others to focus on his plan. Each time he remembered that, his heart stung. Tsumugi's death, the trial, everything coming after... That was a horrible memory in his mind.

Upon reading Kiyo's statements, Shuichi had an answer to one of the questions he didn't dare to ask Kirumi.

How could she live with so much blood on her hands?

Being a mercenary must be an extremely hard job, especially if you hate killing. So this... this mentality helped her bear through this.

He did wonder if she sometimes wished for her targets to be happy in the afterlife.

... He preferred not to think about it too much.

Shuichi checked his monopad. It was almost time to leave.

After putting his shoes back on, he left the room.

Kaito and Kokichi were already there waiting.

"Oh, are you two waiting for the rest of us?"

The biker smiled. "Yup! We might as well go together, don't you think?"

He nodded. "Yeah... We still have to wait for the others, though."

Time passed, and Miu, Kirumi, and Rantaro left their rooms soon after. They all had noticeably taken a shower, for obvious reasons.

The group went to the dining hall to prepare what could be their last dinner.

They noticed the blackout was finally over, and they could at last cook in peace.

Miu had asked everyone to help- and they did. Shuichi wished Ryoma was there with them, though.

The dinner was nice, although Shuichi could see a hint of nervousness in the entire group.

The last dinner before the end of the killing game, whether they win or lose the fight.

"Alrighty then! We're gonna sleep and tomorrow is the big day! So sleep tight everyone!" Miu announced.

Rantaro chuckled. "I still have some things to do in my lab so go on without me."

How much of it was a lie?

The street artist narrowed her eyes for a moment. "Just don't stay up late. Got it?"

"I know, I know. Don't worry about me, okay?"

She slightly blushed at the remark. "A-Anyway! C'mon guys!"

Shuichi saw Kirumi shooting one last glance at the medic before following the others.

He couldn't do anything but go back to the dorms.

He laid on his bed, wide awake.

He couldn't sleep knowing Rantaro was up to who-knows-what at this point.

Carefully, the violinist opened the door, making sure no one would witness him, and stepped out of the dorms.

He quickly made his way to the main building.

Checking his monopad, he saw Rantaro's icon right in front of Ryoma's lab on the fifth floor, and Ryoma's icon in the lab.

... Were they talking?

Shuichi felt bad, but he didn't have a choice.

He walked through the corridors, but on the stairs leading to the fifth floor, he heard some noise.

Or rather, tapping, coming from both behind the door and from the hallway.

taap, tap tap tap tap, tap. taap tap tap tap, taap taap taap, taap taap, taap tap tap tap, tap tap tap. tap taap taap, tap, tap taap tap, tap. tap tap taap, tap tap tap, tap, tap taap tap tap, tap, tap tap tap, tap tap tap, tap tap taap taap tap tap.

This was from behind the door. And it oddly sounded like...

... Morse code.

A rhythmic tapping of fingers on the door. Quick, but understandable if you are experienced, he supposed.

tap taap taap tap, tap taap tap, tap, taap, taap, taap tap taap taap. taap taap, tap tap taap, taap tap taap tap, tap tap tap tap. taap tap tap tap, tap tap taap, taap. tap tap. tap tap tap tap, tap taap, tap tap tap taap, tap. tap taap, taap tap. tap tap, taap tap tap, tap, tap taap.

This one was from the hallway.

He hadn't mastered morse code at all, he couldn't understand a single thing.

But what if...

Shuichi quietly went down the stairs. If he grabbed a pen and paper, he could try to note the conversation.

If only he could go to Kiyo's lab where he knew were stored many notebooks.

But perhaps Kaede's lab had enough of them as well.

He ran there, grabbed a pen and a notebook, and sprinted back up.

He took out a piece of paper and focused.

taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap. tap tap tap, tap tap taap, tap taap tap, tap. taap, tap tap tap tap, tap tap, tap tap tap. tap taap taap, tap tap, tap taap tap tap, tap taap tap tap.  tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap taap tap, taap tap taap, tap tap taap taap tap tap.

It was a bit hard to follow the rhythm, but he could do it. He had to thank his good hearing for that.

tap taap, taap tap tap tap, tap tap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap tap tap, tap tap taap, taap, tap, tap taap tap tap, taap tap taap taap.

Supposing Rantaro was the one talking here, what is he even saying?

tap tap.  taap, tap taap tap, tap tap taap, tap tap tap, taap.  taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap.  taap tap tap tap, tap tap taap, taap.  taap, tap tap tap tap, tap tap, tap tap tap.  tap tap, tap tap tap. tap tap, taap tap, tap tap tap, tap taap, taap tap, tap. tap tap. tap tap tap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap tap. taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap.  taap tap taap, taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap. taap, tap tap tap tap, tap taap, taap.

taap taap taap, tap tap tap tap. tap tap. taap tap taap, taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap. taap tap tap, taap taap taap, taap tap, taap. tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap taap tap, tap taap tap, taap tap taap taap.

A pause.

taap tap tap tap, tap tap taap, taap.  tap tap, tap tap taap tap.  taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap.  taap tap tap, taap taap taap. taap tap tap tap, tap, tap taap tap tap, tap tap, tap, tap tap tap taap, tap. tap taap taap, tap. taap tap taap tap, tap taap, taap tap.  tap tap tap, tap taap, tap tap tap taap, tap.  tap, tap tap tap taap, tap, tap taap tap, taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, taap tap, tap...

... taap, tap tap tap tap, tap, taap tap.  tap tap.  tap taap taap, tap tap, tap taap tap tap, tap taap tap tap.  tap tap taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap tap tap, tap taap tap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap. taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap.

...

tap tap tap, tap taap, tap tap tap taap, tap.

...

...

tap tap taap taap tap tap.

...

tap tap. tap tap tap tap, tap taap, tap tap tap taap, tap. tap tap taap tap, tap taap, tap tap, tap taap tap tap, tap, taap tap tap. taap taap, taap tap taap taap. taap taap, tap tap, tap tap tap, tap tap tap, tap tap, taap taap taap, taap tap. tap taap taap, tap taap, tap tap tap. tap tap tap, tap tap, taap taap, tap taap taap tap, tap taap tap tap, taap tap taap taap. taaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaaptaaptaaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaptap

Shuichi couldn't even take notes anymore. This was way too fast. He wondered how Ryoma could even understand anything.

taaptaptaaptaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaptaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaaptaaptaptaaptaaptaptaaptaaptaptaaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaaptaaptaaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaptaptaptaaptaptaaptaaptaaptaptaaptaptaaptaptaptaaptaaptaaptaap-

BLAM!

Shuichi jumped at the brutal slam on the door, echoing through the large, empty corridors.

There was a long silence.

taap tap taap tap, tap taap, tap taap tap tap, taap taap. taap tap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap, taap tap. tap tap taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap tap. tap taap. tap tap tap, tap, taap tap taap tap.

taap tap tap tap, tap taap tap, tap, tap taap, taap, tap tap tap tap, tap.

Shuichi could hear Rantaro's heavy breathing from the stairs.

What the hell happened?

He doesn't know how much time he spent waiting for an answer before the tapping came back from behind the door.

taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap. taap taap tap, taap taap taap, taap taap taap, taap tap tap, tap tap taap taap tap tap.

tap tap, taap taap. tap tap taap tap, tap tap, taap tap, tap.

taap tap taap taap, taap taap taap, tap tap taap. tap tap tap, tap tap taap, tap taap tap, tap. tap taap, tap tap tap. tap tap tap tap, tap, tap taap tap tap, tap taap tap tap. tap taap, tap taap tap, tap. taap tap, taap taap taap, taap.

taap tap, taap taap taap, taap. taap, tap tap tap tap, tap taap, taap. tap tap, taap. taap taap, tap taap, taap, taap, tap, tap taap tap, tap tap tap. tap taap tap, tap tap, taap taap tap, tap tap tap tap, taap. taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap.

...

A long pause.

taap, taap taap taap, taap taap, taap taap taap, tap taap tap, tap taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap. tap tap, taap, tap tap tap. taap taap taap, tap tap tap taap, tap, tap taap tap.

tap tap. taap tap taap, taap tap, taap taap taap, tap taap taap.

tap taap taap taap, tap tap taap, tap tap tap, taap. tap tap tap, taap, tap taap, taap tap taap taap. tap tap tap, tap taap, tap tap taap tap, tap.

tap tap. tap taap taap, tap tap, tap taap tap tap, tap taap tap tap.

...

Shuichi felt bad eavesdropping like this.

Perhaps he should leave. This felt so wrong.

He looked away for a moment and left.

He had heard enough.

And he had no right to interfere. If Ryoma was already taking care of the matter, then he had no choice but to leave it to him.

After closing the door of his room, he looked at the notes he had taken.

They looked like a mess. But hopefully, he would manage to translate it.

He put the paper and the morse code guide on the desk and started writing.

...

After what felt like an eternity, he had the full dialogue -if he didn't count whatever Rantaro was rambling about for a moment.

~

- You sure this will work? - Absolutely - I trust you but this is insane I hope you know that - Oh I know don't worry - But if you do believe we can save everyone... then I will follow you - Save ... - ? - I have failed my mission was simply ????? ... - Calm down for a sec. Breathe. You good? - I'm fine - You sure as hell are not - Not that it matters right now ... - Tomorrow it's over - I know - Just stay safe - I will

~

That's all he got.

But at least he got to learn one thing...

... It's that his auditor was indeed Ryoma.

Why, though? They could talk face to face. They have no reason to complicate things for each other. So why the morse code?

He didn't get it at all.

The second thing he learned from this conversation is that Rantaro was not getting any better.

But what could he even do?

Tomorrow was the final day. If they all survive the battle, they would finally be able to rest. And both Ryoma and Rantaro knew that.

Just one more day.

Shuichi laid on his bed, closing his eyes, a lot of things lingering on his mind.

Tomorrow they would fight.

They would end this.

Once and for all.

[simmonsofshield]

The Last Thing

Pairings: Y/N Stacy & Peter Parker

Summary: Peter is not dealing with his friend’s death very well. Loosely based on true and personal events.

Words: ~2900

Warnings: Mentions of death. Yelling. Blaming.

A/N:  AU, Peter and Gwen are friends. Y/N is Gwen’s older sister. Gwen is an Avenger and has been in all the fights instead of Peter. This is for @jbbarnesnnoble​​‘s mental health awareness challenge. I chose “How do you even begin to move on?” It won’t be a quote, but it’ll be in bold. Takes place after Endgame.

Dear Peter,

I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’ve never been known to anyways. If you’re reading this, that means I’m either dead or in some sort of close-to-death coma, probably the former.

I’m writing this the day before I leave for Berlin. Sorry I didn’t tell you about it but Tony Stark came to me so I’m assuming it has to stay on the DL. Yeah, you read that right. Tony freaking Stark! He hasn’t told me much but I’m assuming some sort of drama with the Accords. Why he came to me and not you, I’m not sure. Maybe just because I go out more and there’s more youtube videos of me than you. Or maybe he didn’t want the “friendly neighborhood Spiderman.” He wanted someone tougher. Haha just kidding.

Anywho... back to the reason for this letter. I want you to take my place. Queens still needs someone to take care of it, and since I’m no longer around, it’s gotta be you. We were both in that lab and got bit by those radioactive spiders. Who thought making spiders radioactive was a good idea anyways? We went through all the weird hardships with these new powers together and managed without anyone finding out….except my sister. (and apparently Tony Stark.)

Speaking of Y/N, I’m putting her in your care. You are now responsible for her. I’m only kind of sorry. She’s the only one that knows about this letter.

Hopefully you don’t have to read this immediately following this impromptu trip to Berlin, or at all in 2016. Or, you know, ever. Hopefully I can grow old and retire SpiderGwen. Wait, those are two different things, let me rephrase that: hopefully I can stop saving the day around 25 and then retire when I’m old and wrinkly and burn this letter so you never have to even know it existed.

If you are reading this and made it this far, I want you to know that I believe in you. It is hard being a hero. Sometimes  you have to make tough decisions, but you’re a smart guy. I know you will be great. Better than me, probably.

You’re the best basically-brother I could ever ask for. Spiderman is destined for great things. I know it.

Gwen

Present day, May 2023

When it first happened - when half the universe was brought back - Y/N came looking for Peter immediately. After that first weird day back to school, she found him..and that was weird too. She used to only be one year older than him and Gwen, and now she was clearly 6 years older than him. She’d asked if he’d seen her in class, and he said no. She covered her mouth and started crying right there. It confused him at the time, but in hindsight, he realized she knew at that moment that Gwen was dead. Her family got the call from Nick Fury himself that night.

Besides the big bad, Thanos he thinks, there were only two casualties. “Only” two on the heroes side, when there’s usually zero. They were Gwen and Tony Stark. So not only did Peter lose his best friend, he lost his idol as well, and even though he never got to meet him, it still hurts. A little. He died bringing back the half of humanity that was blipped, a truly heroic act, but Gwen died so that that could happen. She’s hardly ever mentioned in news reports or anything.

It’s been almost two months. TWO.

Peter read the letter again. He did almost once a day. The fold creases were already very worn and the page had been stained with tears many times over. He still just couldn’t believe she was actually gone. Being brought back after getting blipped was enough to deal with but now his closest friend was dead. What was the most frustrating was that he didn’t know how. He wasn’t allowed to. SHIELD classified it and only the immediate family could know. You hadn’t told him everything, but you did say something about her getting caught in some crossfire. That’s all you were allowed to say.

He sat in the stairwell of his and Aunt May’s Queens apartment while he waited for you to arrive. He was zoned out thinking and didn’t even hear you come up the stairs.

“Peter?” he snapped back to reality and looked at you, eyes sad, “you ready?”

He nodded and stood up, shoving his hands in his shorts pockets. He trudged down the stairs and met you at the landing, then walking side by side down the rest to ground level. Exiting the complex, you put your arm around his shoulders walking the already too familiar route. What had happened was still fresh and you two had decided to visit Gwen’s grave once a week, tell her what had been going on, if anything.

The first few times were okay, but recently, Peter hadn’t been saying anything. He just kneels in front of her grave, head down, and cries. You really felt for the kid, you did. His parents died when he was 6, his uncle Ben 3 years ago (since he was blipped), and now his best friend-basically-sister. He’s only 16 and has dealt with more death than anyone at that age should. How do you even begin to move on? The gaps are big, but that doesn’t make any of them hurt less. Especially when they’re all family.

After a few minutes of silent sobs, you place your hand on his shoulder. He stands up and steps aside, so you can have your time. You look at him and give him a soft smile of thanks. He looks at you for a millisecond before looking back at the ground, wiping away stray tears.

You approach her gravestone, putting your hand on it, brushing your fingers along it and tracing the letters of her name. You speak softly, as if just to her. “Gwenny, I need help. Your help. This has been hard on Peter. You were his best friend and now he just seems like a lost puppy without you around. I know he has Ned and MJ, but a big chunk of him is missing without you here,” you cough out a sob, “I just want the old Petey back. I don’t expect it tomorrow, or next week, or even next month, but I need it. I want some sort of normalcy back in my life,” your next sob comes out with a little bit of a laugh, “look at me, talking to a grave like I’m talking to an actual human. You’d totally give me crap for this.” you sigh, “It’s just-- being six years older than him now instead of just one makes it hard. We’re in such different places in our lives. He just finished his freshman year of high school, and I’m in college now...” you trail off, forgetting where you were going with it. Standing up, you give one last tap to the gravestone. “Bring him back. Oh-” You dig in your purse and pull out a charm bracelet. You crouch back down and lay it right next to the base where the grass is a little bit taller. You wear an identical one. “Mom and dad are doing fine..well, as well as you could expect. There are some rough nights, but we’re managing.”

Emotions were still running high at home. You’d lost your sister, and your parents, their youngest child. There was a lot of fighting and blaming, despite heroism being Gwen’s choice. She’d told you once that she’d been given the powers for a reason. If bad things happened and she did nothing, it was basically her fault. You never really agreed with the sentiment, but she insisted and went on helping out the people of Queens, eventually roping Peter into it.

A lot of the time the blame fell on you, your father wondering why you weren’t with Gwen and Peter the day they got bit. You take it, as it’s his way of mourning and relieving his anger. He’s looking for answers that he’ll never get. Your mom is mostly silent, save for the fights. You two usually end up drinking a bottle or two of wine before tottling off to bed, drowning your sorrows.

The walk back is silent, as usual. You were both mourning and it was always emotionally draining after a visit and hard to make conversation. You’re about 2/3 of the way back before you decide to try. “I, uh, noticed you had the letter in the stairwell.” You feel a shift and see as his hand goes to his pocket. “Pete, why?” You sigh, not in disappointment, mostly in exhaustion but a little bit of curiosity too.

He looks down, an exhale coming from his nose, “It’s the last thing I have of her.”

You let out a soft gasp. That hadn’t even crossed your mind, it was the last physical thing Gwen had touched and given - by way of you - to him. “Oh, Petey.” You run your fingers through his hair a few times before letting your arm rest limply over his shoulders. He pushes it off, stopping in his tracks and looks at you with an expression you don’t recognize. He mumbles something and you stop waking as well, leaning forward a little. “Peter?”

“Tony did this.”

“To-”

“Tony Stark! He’s the one who recruited her. He’s the one that put her on this path.” he paces back and forth in anger. “If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t be a part of the Avengers and she wouldn’t be dead.”

“Peter...” you know what he’s doing. In fact, you went through and did the same thing just a couple weeks ago. “You know he’s not to blame. She’s the one who wanted to help the community, just like you,” you reasoned, “it was only a matter of time before she caught the eye of the Avengers.”

He ignored you, turning on his heels. “I need to talk to him.”

“Y-you can’t. Peter..” you stand there, stunned for a moment, “Peter.” you call out. He doesn’t respond and you quickly move from your place on the sidewalk and jog a little to try to catch up. You forgot how quickly he could walk when he was on a mission. “Peter!”

“What?!” he turns around, fire in his eyes. You actually cower a little, never hearing this tone come out of his mouth before.

“Uhm..” your voice is meek at first as you try to figure out what to say and recover from the surprise his outburst gave you, “you can’t go talk to Tony.”

“And why not?”

“He,” you swallow the lump in your throat, speaking softly not out of fear now, but to bring down the information as delicately as you could, “he died that night too. Remember?”

He blinks and there seems to be a flicker of remembrance and realization. It quickly changes back to anger and he looks you dead in the eyes, pointing. “Then it’s your fault!”

“W-what?”

“Yeah. You’re the one that let her go to Berlin. She would’ve listened to you. If you had told her no, she wouldn’t have gone. It’s your fault!” he continues pointing his finger at you, his voice rising as he talked. You hadn’t even realized you were moving until you were suddenly backed into the wall of a corner store, or maybe a restaurant, you didn’t really take the time to figure out where you were on the street.

You could feel your breath beginning to shallow the more he talked. You had no idea what was going to happen, and with him being enhanced, he was unpredictable. “Peter...” was all you could muster up, hoping just saying his name would somehow take him out of this trance he was in. It didn’t work and if you hadn’t looked down to look away from his face, you wouldn’t have noticed his other hand beginning to ball into a fist. Your eyes widened and you looked back at him, tears threatening to fall. “Peter, please.”

It didn’t phase him. “It’s your fault!” he yells and you see his fist rise and you dodge out of the way in the nick of time, now in a crouched position.

You hear his fist connect with the wall, “Fuck!” Under different circumstances, you’d be surprised and sarcastically scold him because you’ve never heard him swear, ever. At the moment though, you’re now seated against the wall, breathing hard and tears falling silently.

“Y/N?” He crouches down and puts a hand on your shoulder, which you slink away from. At this point, as if it were a movie, mother nature decided it had to rain. All you hear is the soft pattering of the rain on the sidewalk for a moment before you hear some soft whimpering. You look around, and see a few feet from you, Peter sitting and hugging his knees, head down.  

You stand up, and walk over to him, not announcing your presence in any way, and sit next to him. Taking his hand in yours, you begin inspecting his knuckles. “You’re lucky you have super strength. Otherwise that wall would have done a number on your hand. More than just some scratches and it looks like probably some bruising.” The only reply you get is some breathy sobs. “Okay,” keeping his hand in yours, you stand up and urge him up too, “let’s get you home.”

He doesn’t argue and slowly begins to walk home, with your aid. Your arm is once again around his shoulders and he doesn’t push it away this time. The whole walk back is silent, as expected. The both of you now more tired than before, physically and emotionally.

When you arrive back at Peter’s apartment, you enter, May leaving it unlocked. She’s on the couch watching tv. She turns around with a smile to greet you guys, but it quickly turns to a frown when she sees the state the two of you are in. You see her mouth open about to ask a question and you shake your head. She closes it and stands, walking over to Peter’s bedroom door and opening it for the two of you. You nod a thank you and walk in.

Peter still seems to be in a daze when you sit him down at his desk. You scan his room looking for a towel, seeing clothes and books strewn about, assuming he ‘lost’ his backpack again. “Well, I see you have a project for tomorrow,” you try to joke, despite the fact that you began picking up his clothes and putting them in the hamper in his closet. You hear a soft hmm? and look over at him. He’s looking at you, eyes red but only a little puffy.

You finally find his bath towel, halfway under his bed. Picking it up, you shake it a couple times to get any dust bunnies off and walk over to him. You can feel his eyes on you as you dry the rain off his arms and legs, but you continue. You dab off his neck and rub his hair a few times, getting as much off as you can before moving to his face. He jerks away and wipes his forehead with his arm before looking at you, as if studying you. You sit back a little, unsure, wondering what he’s going to do.

He takes a deep breath like he’s trying to gather the courage to speak to you. It takes a couple more seconds before he does. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh Peter,” you coo softly, “it’s okay.”

He slaps his hand on his desk, “No it’s not!” seeing you jump, he realized what he did, “s-sorry.” he says barely above a whisper.

“It’s not,” you agree, “but you’re mourning. I’m going through the same thing at home. You know this. I can take a few angry words.”

“But I blamed you, tried to hurt you.”

You nod, “I will admit I was a little scared when you tried to hit me,” he looks down, scared to make eye contact, “but,” you use your finger to lift his chin, “I got out of the way and you didn’t. Guess I gotta thank Gwen for taking me to some of those self defense classes so I could help her train.” You say the last part with a smile.

For what you’re pretty sure is the first time that night, Peter smiles too. You use your hand and wipe away the remaining tears on his face. “There he is.”

You get up on your knees, about to stand up, when he pulls you into a hug. You let out at squeak of surprise but quickly melt into it. Then, you suddenly begin to cry.

“Y/N?” he doesn’t pull out of the hug but you can hear the concern in his voice.

You sniffle and wipe away your tears, letting out a kind of cry-laugh. “I’m just glad, that at least for tonight, you’re back to the Peter that I know. I’ve missed your smile.” You feel him hug you a little tighter.

For Avory

[anotheronechicagobog]

Antonio Dawson x Reader Begin Again

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

requested by: @lifesaclimb-buttheviewisgreat​

(I hope you like this one too!)

When your ex left it was like someone hastily dropped an anvil on your chest. Your marriage fell apart and he didn’t even want to try to fix it. He just... left. When you were going through divorce proceedings he wouldn’t even look at you. He tried to get full custody of your kids. It wasn’t until you saw him getting picked up by his secretary that you understood everything. The way she cooed at your children and slid her hand down his arm while smirking at you made you sick. 

The divorce proceedings were long and tedious and nearly broke you. Watching your ex and his secretary try and play house was hell. You had been so unaware that your husband didn’t love you anymore, that he had fallen in love with his big breasted blonde secretary, that you had been caught completely blindsided. 

Your kids, however, had been your saving grace. They questioned their father and his new girlfriend. They didn’t like her, just said that they sensed something fake about her. In the end, it had been their testimonies to the judge that won you full custody with your husband only getting minimal visitation rights. Shockingly when the judge made the decision it was your ex’s girlfriend, or mistress, as the judge put it when they accidentally admitted to being together for a year, lost her damn mind.

Meeting Antonio was really something different. You’d been on the subway heading to med to for an appointment when you noticed a girl, probably about 10 or 11 being harassed by a forty-year-old man. Your mama bear instincts kicked in, you marched over and glared and seethed at him, calling him a pedophile a couple of times, and made sure he kept his hands to himself until he left. The girl, Eva Dawson, was grateful for you scaring him away, and when you figured out that neither of her parents knew where she was or where she was going, you called into your doctor’s office to say there’d been an emergency and you were going to be late, before escorting Eva to the 21st police district.

“Eva! What are you doing here?! Does your mom know?” He ranted and raved for several minutes before his eyes narrowed on you. “And who are you?”

“My name is Y/N Y/L/N, I found your daughter on the subway and she looked like she needed help, so I offered to make sure she got here okay.” He nodded. “Alright, Eva, wait here, I’ll tell your mom you’re here. I have to go follow a lead, stay within eyesight of Trudy.” He then turned around and marched out the door of the precinct mumbling under his breath in Spanish followed by a man wearing a fedora. You sighed and watched Eva crying and curling into herself for a minute before you decided to inervene. You sat down beside her. “Hey, He could have said it better, and let you say your piece, but he has a point and it’s because he loves you. Your dad is a detective, you are never going to understand everything about him and his job, and that’s probably a good thing. He sees all of the dark and twisty things about Chicago.”

You ran into Antonio again when you went to visit your uncle/father figure at firehouse 51 while he was visiting his sister. He seemed a little tense at first when he recognized you, but warmed up to you when Gabby threw him a glare. You became quick friends much to uncle Chris’s chagrin, and a few months later your kids were making kissey faces at you whenever Antonio was mentioned.

It ended up being your and Antonio’s kids that got the two of you together. You’d all been hanging out at a first responders picnic when the kids started playing matchmaker. It had been a little embarrassing at first but after the third time you tripped and fell into Antonio’s arms you both decided to humour them. While neither of you intended to go as well as it had you couldn’t be happier about it.

You’d been dating Antonio for eight months when you got a call from Gabby. “Hey, is it okay if I dropped Eva and Diego off at your place? Laura missed picking them up and Antonio couldn’t but I’m still on shift.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Internally you were freaking out. You’d never been alone with them and your kids before. Twelve minutes later they’d been dropped off and you were nervously clenching and unclenching your hands. “So, do you guys want to play Mario cart?”

“That sounds great!” Eva, Diego, and your daughter Katrina, all sat very content selecting their characters and giggling. “I’ll make some snacks, before I forget does anyone have homework?”

Diego and Katrina shook their heads, they were in the same class and their teacher usually gave them twenty minutes at the end of the day to do homework. So it wasn’t really shocking that they didn’t have any. “Eva?”

“No, we’re learning about how to write essays right now so we do a lot of that in class. I’m really good at math so I’ve already done that, but if I could get your advice on a lab I did that would make me more confident in it.”

“Sure, how about after dinner?”

“Yeah, that would be awesome.”

“Mind if I join you guys for a few rounds before I have to start making dinner?”

Three wins and two losses later you got up and proceeded to start dinner. Just as you finished with a large Asian stir fry there was a knock on the door. “Alright guys, go wash up. Antonio should be here soon for dinner.” You hundred up your apron before making your way to the door and looking through the peephole. You smiled when you saw your boyfriend nervously standing outside your door with a bouquet of your favourite flowers. You swung the door open with a “hello handsome.”

“Hola mi amor.”

“Dinners ready, the kids are just washing up. I’m gonna go find a vase for these. Thank you, honey.”

“Dinner smells great. Don’t you guys think so?”

“Yeah, mom used my favourite rice noodles and she made it spicy so I’m really excited.”

“YES! I LOVE SPICY FOOD!”

“Calm down Diego, use your inside voice please.”

“Thanks for dinner, Y/N, it’s really good.”

“No problem Eva, I love having you guys over.” Diego went for his second helping as Eva and Katrina were talking about Captain Marvel when Antonio’s phone rang. All of your heads snapped to look at him, the image of him leaving to go to work popping into your heads. He sighed when he saw the caller ID. “It’s Laura. I should probably take this.” You looked at Eva and Diego, both of their heads were bowed and while Diego looked like he was about to burst into tears Eva looked like she wanted to punch something while shouting every swear word she isn’t supposed to know. He stood up from the table and answered the phone as he walked to the entryway, out of earshot. “I made coffee cake the other day and we have vanilla ice cream in the freezer, so we could do that for dessert if you guys are up to it. Diego and Kat nodded while silently and solemnly eating their food. “That sounds really good Y/N. Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, sweetie.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, Diego?”

“The swim team is having a bake sale on Friday, would you mind making something? Mom forgot to make something for Eva’s cross country team bake sale, and she, you know, forgot us today.”

“Sure thing, what did you have in mind?”

“Your lemon squares are really good, can you make those?”

“Yes, absolutely, I’ll make some extra so that we can all have some too.”

“Thanks.” The kids started to smile again and the mood was lifting when Antonio came back. He was tense but started to loosen up when he heard the kids debating about who was cooler, Batman or Ironman. “Personally,” Antonio drawled out, “I prefer Batman.”

“What? Why?”

“Batmobile. Enough said.” You laughed, “fair enough.” You kissed him on the cheek, he looked at you tenderly, his face close to yours. He didn’t have to lean in far to kiss you soundly on the lips.

Antonio and the kids were cleaning up fro dinner while you were looking over Eva’s lab report. It was well-formatted, and while she did use some contractions her report was definitely worthy of a high mark. She beamed when you told her that her only mistake was using the word “couldn’t” instead of “could not”. She skipped back to the kitchen and back to her cake and ice cream. Antonio chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. “I talked to Laura, if you’re okay with it I’d like to list you as one of Eva and Diego’s guardians with the school and med. If you’re okay with it. You don’t have to-“

“Yes. That sounds great. You know I love them, I’ll do anything to help them.”

“Te amo mi amor.”

[give-me-back-my-rhodey]

The Not-So Worst Day of Peter’s Life

This fic is a part of the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange for @fromsiberia

                      Rating: General            Warnings: N/A   

I enjoyed writing this - I hope you enjoy reading it! 

Peter takes a class trip to Stark Industries. What could go wrong (or right)?

Read on ao3

“So, we have a field trip planned,” Peter mentions casually while eating lunch on Sunday.

 Tony swallows the food in his mouth, “Great kid. When and where?”

 “It’s this Friday, and it’s at Stark Industries,” Peter’s mouth contorts into a strained smile. “Did you do this?”

 “I did not, cross my heart and hope to die,” Tony runs a finger across his sternum. “It was probably someone in our HR department. Why, you don’t want to go?”

 “it just puts me in a tough spot because I’m ‘working’ here,” Peter makes finger quotations, “and no one believes me but Ned and MJ, but that’s because they know my alter ego.”

 “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to call out sick and not go in that day? Or do you want me to acknowledge you and just rave about your intelligence? I’m good with that, too.”

 “No! Just do what you normally do. If we run into you, you can just say hi to me to prove you know me, but I don’t need a whole letter of recommendation or anything!” Peter scoffs.

 Tony nods understandingly, “I will be the ultimate professional, but I cannot speak for Happy. Or Bucky, if he’s around.”

“If I’m around where?” Bucky saunters into the room, dropping a kiss on Tony’s cheek.

 “Speak of the devil,” Tony smirks. “Peter’s class is going to SI on Friday for a field trip.”

 Bucky’s eyes glitter. “Good to know.” He grabs a water bottle from the fridge and walks back out. “Going for a run with Steve.”

 “Make sure you shower afterwards!” Tony yells after him.

 Peter turns on Tony as soon as Bucky leaves, “Please don’t let him embarrass me.”

 “I will do what I can,” Tony ruffles Peter’s head. Standing up, he takes his plate and sticks it in the dishwasher. “Hey, I just got some of that stretchy material in. Wanna test it?”

 Peter eagerly follows him into the lab.

 +++++++++++++++++++

“So, Tony didn’t set it up?” Ned asks, biting into his pizza.

 “No, he had no idea. I guess they do field trip things fairly often, so they just have someone in HR schedule them.” Peter wrinkles his nose. “Really Ned? Pineapple and sweet peppers? Ugh, that’s nasty.”

 “You just have boring tastes, extra-cheese man.”

 MJ shakes her head, “Bacon’s where it’s at.”

 Peter and Ned look at each other and shrug. Neither of them can refute the fact that bacon is one of the better pizza toppings.

 “So, Penis, are you going on the field trip on Friday?” Flash Thompson walks up to stand at the end of their table. “I wouldn’t blame you for not going, you know, because it’s going to be so embarrassing for you when we all confirm that your Stark Internship is all in your imagination. Right guys?” Flash’s little posse of friends all agree and laugh.

 “I’m going.” Peter smiles at Flash.

 “Alright. It’s your funeral,” Flash replies then turns to his crowd. “IF we see Tony Stark, maybe he can tell us about Spiderman! Unlike this idiot here, Spiderman actually works with Iron Man! He’s like the coolest superhero out there. Okay, let’s go. Bye losers!” He does a little wave at Peter’s table. Peter gives him a thumbs up in response.

 “I mean, it’s funny to me that Flash loves you and hates you, but why do you put up with that?” MJ comments.

Peter shrugs, “It doesn’t really bother me. If he wants to run his mouth, trying to make me feel small, let him. At least he’s doing it to me, and not someone who will actually be affected by it. By the way, tomorrow night, we’re watching Clueless. Bucky hasn’t seen too many rom-coms, and I mean to change that. Tony said you are welcome to come. He’s making like six different types of popcorn.”

 “I’m in.” MJ nods as Ned raises his hand and waves it to show he also will be there.

 The bell rings to indicate the end of lunch break, and the trio splits up to go to their respective classes.

 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tony meets Peter when he gets to the Tower after rotations. “Hey Pete, I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you that Harley’s going to be here this week.”

 ‘Oh ok, maybe we can finish that project now that… OH NO! Don’t tell me he’s going to be at SI on Friday!” Peter groans as Tony grimaces.

 “Unfortunately, he will be, and you know there’s nothing I can do to stop him once he’s on a warpath.”

 “My life is over,” Peter mourns. “Why can’t his college have normal spring break just like everybody else?”

 “Probably because the universe is just bent on screwing you over.” Peter hates just how amused Tony sounds.

 He folds his arms. “You’re the worst dad ever.”

 “Sure son. Want to talk it over a game of catch?” Tony has his biggest shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

 Peter shakes his head. “No, I just remembered. Aunt May said she’s going to have supper ready at 6:30 so I got to go. Love you, Dad.” He quickly hugs Tony then runs out the door.

 “Love you, too kid!” Tony calls after him.

 “Look at you, being less and less emotionally stunted as the days go by,” Rhodey comments from the doorway.  “I guess Barnes and the kid are doing you good.”

 “Oh, shut it, platypus.” Tony shoots back good-humoredly. “You were the one who started the process.”

 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tuesday night, dubbed “Movie Night,” comes, and Tony, Bucky, Peter, Harley, Ned, and MJ are watching Clueless on Tony’s huge theater-sized TV. JARVIS turns on Clueless, and everyone soon gets lost into the hard high-school life of one Cher Horowitz.

 Peter sympathizes with Cher’s driving issues as he also had a hard time learning to drive. He cringes, thinking of the time he had to drive Flash’s father’s car to chase Liz’s dad. Tony shudders at the fashion, or lack thereof, of the 90’s.

 When the movie ends, Harley points out that although Cher’s last name is supposedly Horowitz, her report card is labelled as Cher Hamilton. MJ tells them she doesn’t like that Josh is Cher’s step-brother – it just weirds her out. Peter asks Bucky what he thought of the movie.

 Bucky thinks about it for a second then asks, “Isn’t this basically modern-day Emma?”

 “Emma?”

 “Yea, the Jane Austen novel. Like, Cher is clearly Emma. She’s so happy she got Dionne together with Murray so she thinks she’s good at this stuff. She takes Tai in order to help her become popular. That means Tai is Harriet Smith. Cher tries to set her up with Elton, whose name is taken straight from Emma – Mr. Elton. Cher thinks she’s in love with Christian, who is pulled from Frank Churchill. The only difference here is that Christian is gay, not already engaged to Jane Fairfax. Josh, of course, is Mr. Knightley, except that he’s Cher’s stepbrother, not a family friend. Because Elton says he’s in love with Cher, not Tai, Tai feels unwanted. When Josh starts showing her attention because Cher asked him to, Tai starts to fall for him just as Cher realizes she’s in love with him. This is equal to the scenes where Mr. Knightley dances with Harriet when Mr. Elton snubs her. Harriet believes he is interested whereas he’s only doing Emma a favor. Harriet tells Emma that she thinks she loves Knightley. As a result, Emma gets a reality check. In the end, Tai dates the skater boy Travis, who is the modern-day Robert Martin, deemed as unworthy by Cher/Emma.” He pauses when he sees everyone just staring at him, open-mouthed. “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“Oh my gosh,” MJ whispers. “I think I love him.”

 “Sorry, he’s mine,” Tony wraps his arms around Bucky. “Bucky, darling, I don’t know because I don’t read mushy stuff like Jane Austen, but based on MJ’s reaction, you must have hit the nail on the head.”

 Bucky nuzzles Tony’s cheek with his nose until Harley fake gags, “There are children present!”

 “The book is better, but the movie was ok,” Bucky wrinkles his nose.

 Peter clutches his chest, “It’s a rom-com classic! I can’t believe it!” He dramatically falls off the couch onto the floor, acting as if his heart had failed him.

 “Oh, no, we lost him. What ever shall we do?” Harley deadpans, stuffing a pillow on Peter’s face and holding it there until Peter rolls over.

 “You are all a bunch of children,” Tony laughs. “Honey, don’t you feel like the parent of some very unruly children.”

 Bucky snorts, “Gee, I wonder who they got it from.”

 “Gasp. Betrayed by my own boyfriend. Now I have no one in the cruel, cold world.” Tony splays a hand across his arc reactor. “Woe is me.”

 All too soon, though, it was time to go home, and Peter wishes all his nights could be like this. As Peter leaves one last lingering look at Tony and Bucky on the couch, he feels Harley nudge him. “Hey, at least you can leave,” the blond nineteen-year-old grins. “I’m going to have to deal with them, and I don’t think they’re going to wait until they get to their room to start. Seriously, I may have to gouge my eyes out by the end of the week.”

 Peter pats Harley on the shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll manage. Have a good night.”

 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Peter spends Wednesday night with Aunt May, but Tony asks for his help in the SI lab on Thursday. Two hours into working on improving Peter’s suit, Peter admits, “I’m a little nervous about tomorrow.”

 Tony immediately puts down his tools, “Ok… talk to me. What’s wrong?”

 “I just… don’t know what’s going to happen, and I don’t want to make a big deal about the whole internship. Like, I don’t even care if they don’t believe me. Now it either becomes a big deal, or they'll all still think I’m a liar. And what if someone makes the Spiderman connection?”

 “Hey, kid. You'll be fine, but if you don’t want to go, don’t go. You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone. I’ll support you with whatever you choose.  And the Spiderman thing? I don’t think anyone’s going connect the dots. They'll probably think Harles is Spiderman before you." Tony knocks his shoulder. “All I’m saying is I will be happy to see you if you decide to go, and I would never be ashamed of being seen with you. I’ve basically adopted you. If you want to add fuel to the flames, I can even call you son.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

 “No! Please don’t! I don’t need that as well.” Peter groans.

 “Ok ok fine!” Tony holds up his hands. “But let me know if you need me to be a school emergency contact. I know May’s been having longer shifts, but she won’t accept my help.”

 “She’s a strong independent woman, Tony. She doesn’t need you.”  Peter jabs playfully.

 “No she does not. I admire her. The only person I admire more than her is Pepper. And I’ve met Thor, Peter.”

 Peter gasps dramatically, “Don’t diss on my Thor!”

 When Peter goes to leave that night, Tony pulls him into a hug. “Love ya, son.”

 “Love you, too, dad.” Peter’s heart fills with happiness. He supposes tomorrow won’t be too bad.

 +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Friday comes, and May wakes Peter up for his class trip. He groans but gets up. “Ugh. Today is going to be a train wreck.” He tells her.

 “You know, you don’t have to go on your class trip,” May remarks, looked amused.

 “Yea, I know, but I feel like I should just go.”

 Peter gets to school, and Flash seems to be waiting for him. “Oh, hey guys. Here he is! We’re going to see today just how pathetic Parker is. I hope you’re ready.” Flash smirks at him.

 “Oh, believe me, I am not ready for this trip,” Peter concedes, “but for reasons that are so much different than what you’re thinking.”

 “Ok, boys, enough fighting. It’s time to go,” Mr. Harrington calls from the front of the classroom. “Everyone, pair up and get on the bus.”

 Peter and Ned fall in line together, followed by MJ and Betty. The pretty blonde taps Peter on the shoulder. “Hey Peter, for what it’s worth, I believe you.”

 “Thanks Betty! I appreciate it.” Peter smiles back at her.

 The four of them sit together in the back of the bus, ignoring all the chaos going on in front of them. “It gets worse,” Peter confides to Ned, “Harley’s gonna be there. You know it’s his goal in life to make me as uncomfortable as possible.”

 “Relax, Pete, he’s like your brother. That’s what family’s for.”

 The bus ride takes approximately thirty minutes to get to Stark Industries. Once everyone is out and lined up two by two, Mr. Harrington leads them up to the facility. He fumbles with the paperwork as he walks up to a security guard. Once the guard is satisfied, he takes them in to the front desk. Bambi is working the desk, as usual. She hands out visitor’s cards to every member of the party, and her face brightens when she sees Peter. “Oh, hi Peter! I didn’t realize this was your class. You should just be showing them around, don’t you think?” She winks at him.

 Peter loves Bambi. She treats him like her own grandchildren. “Hi, Bambi. It’s good to see you. Today, I think I’m just following along with the rest of them.”

 As the rest of the class had already left the receptionist desk to wait for their tour guide, no one heard Peter and Bambi’s interaction. Mr. Harrington calls him over, and Flash looks at him suspiciously. “What, did you ask her to act like she knew you?”

 “No, she just knows me. That’s Bambi.”

“No shit. Isn’t that what her name tag read?” Flash retorts, and Peter mentally nods. Flash does have a point there.

 “Midtown High?” A voice says, and Peter freezes. No. He knows that voice. He turns slowly to find that his fear is, in fact, reality. “Hello, my name is Harley Keener. I’m a part-time intern of Tony Stark, and I will be your tour guide today. Does anyone have any questions before we start?”

 Annabelle raises her hand, “Will we see Tony Stark or Pepper Potts today?”

 “You are in luck, because Tony himself instructed that I show you his lab today. Ms. Potts is the CEO of the company, so I can’t really say if we will see her or not. She is a very busy woman.” Harley smiles. Peter feels his eyes on him, and when Peter looks up, Harley’s smile becomes a smirk. Peter’s spidey-senses tingle with a sense of foreboding.

 Flash nudges Peter, “Hey Porker, that is what someone who interns for Tony Stark would look like. He’s mature and actually attractive… unlike you.”

 “You think he’s mature? He’s the devil incarnate. The only reason he is leading this tour is because he wants to make my life miserable,” Peter hisses.

 Flash scoffs, but he just rejoins his partner at the front of the line.

 “Hey, kid.” Harley addresses Flash. “I’m sorry, but I need to ask you to stay with your partner in a two-by-two line unless I say you can spread out. I don’t want to cause problems, but I’m sure you understand that we have precautions that we must take in order to let guided tours through here.” Peter holds in a laugh when Flash looks properly chastised.

 Ned leans close and says, “And that’s where family has your back as well, even after you call them ‘the Devil incarnate.’”

 Harley leads them through department after department, explaining how each of them work. After explaining, he would ask if anyone had any questions. Finally, on the sixth floor, Flash can’t resist any longer. “I have to ask, Mr. Keener, do you know anyone by the name of Peter Parker?”

 “You mean Tony’s other intern? Yea I know him. He’s a little shit most of the time, but yea. Any other questions?”

 Everyone in the class turns back to Peter, who can’t help but smile smugly. “I have a question,” Peter asks, “Why did you decide to guide this tour? This isn’t your normal job here.”

 The blood drains from Peter’s face when Harley just smiles and says, “It was something I wanted to do, and Tony owed me that favor after he lost the bet.”

 “Oh crap.” The foreboding tingles are back.

 Mr. Harrington looks confused, “I’m sorry. I guess you two know each other?”

 “Yes, we have worked together on many a project with Mr. Stark,” Harley informs him. “We just have a little harmless rivalry – like to poke fun at each other.”

 Flash looks like he’s just going to faint. Peter wants to laugh at him, but he’s mature. He’ll laugh about it later.

 Harley continues, “Now, if no one has any questions about this department, I will take you up to the next floor. Please be warned, this is Tony Stark’s R&D floor. We will have to confiscate any phones as we do not allow any videos and pictures on this floor.” They climb the stairs. “Before we go in, please hand all your phones and/or recording devices to Alessia here. She will return them to you once we come back out of this room.”

 Once everyone forks over their technology, Harley puts his hand on the scanner, and the doors open. “Please line up against the wall, and don’t touch anything.” He tells them.

 Peter groans aloud when he sees the view in front of him. Bucky frickin’ Barnes is sitting on the frickin’ table where Tony is fixing his frickin’ arm! He knows Bucky and Harley have something up their sleeve.

 “You ok there, Parker?” Harley asks, grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

 “Yeah. I’m great.” Peter grits out.

 Tony and Bucky seem to be in their own little world because neither of them looks up. Tony closes a plate on Bucky’s arm and runs his hand down the arm until he clasps Bucky’s hand in his own. Bucky touches Tony’s face with his right arm, and Harley clears his throat loudly. Bucky slowly drops his hand, and they both turn to look at the class, Bucky’s eyes seeking Peter out.

 Tony smiles his press smile, “Welcome, guys, gals, and non-binary pals to where the magic happens. This lab here is my personal lab, and very few people have access to this select lab. Consider yourselves lucky. Sergeant Barnes here just had some problems with his arm, and, as I was working here today, came to visit me. If you see over there, I have my helper bots.” Tony walks over to ELL-E. “This darling here is one of my newer ones. Say hi, ELL-E!” Everyone awws when she raises her claw and waves. “I have three of these at home, all built when I was in college. Since I work most days at the tower, I keep them there. DUM-E was the first AI bot I ever made. He’s a mess, though. That’s why his name’s DUM-E.” He claps his hands together. “Now does anyone have any questions… actually, wait, I have a question for you kids. We are in the process in updating the Stark phone. Does anyone here own one, and if so, do you have any suggestions in improving it?”

 Raoul raises his hand, “Well, I must say I do love the latest update… the easy access to setting up disability features really helped my mom use her phone better. She used to make one of us use her phone for her because most phones either don’t have the features or make it hard to find where to turn them on.”

 “Thank you. Fun fact – that update was drawn up and coded by your very own classmate over there, one Mr. Peter Parker. I don’t know how much of a bragger he is – I sure was one when I was his age – but that young man is brilliant. I am honored to have him working here as an intern.” Tony sends a smile towards Peter.

 Flash raises his hand, “Hi, so if Peter interns for you, and you mostly work from the tower, does that mean Peter works at Stark Tower around all the superheroes?”

 “Yup,” Tony smiles. “To be honest, I think he had the biggest freak out when he met Bucky over here… or maybe Thor. Sorry, Buck, I think Thor is his favorite.”

 A few other students raise their hands to ask questions, and Peter zones out. A loud clapping sound wakes him from his reverie.

 “I hate to interrupt, but it’s almost time for lunch,” Harley speaks up. “Do you want me to take them down now, or is there anything else you want to say?”

 Tony spins back around to face them, finger in the air. “I just had a brilliant idea. Why don’t you join me and Sergeant Barnes for lunch? We’re going down to the cafeteria. Just order what you want on my dime. We’ll accompany you down in a minute.”

 “Sir, you don’t have to,” Mr. Harrington sputters. “The students did all bring lunch…”

“Oh, it would be my pleasure. I have more money than I know what to do with. I insist,” Tony says. Then he smirks and says, “I know, Ms. Jones, that I should sink my money into charities and things. Please provide me with several of your choice, and I promise to make a large donation.”

 MJ’s mouth opens and closes, then she nods. “Fair enough.”

 “Ok kiddos,” Harley says, “let me take you down to the cafeteria. If you want your phones back, please make sure you pick them up from Alessia.”

 Peter and Ned are the last ones to leave the lab. Peter turns right before he walks out. Bucky and Tony wave at him. He groans, “They’re going to do something at lunch. I can feel it.”

 Five minutes later, Tony and Bucky arrive in the cafeteria, holding hands.

 “Holy shit! Are they actually together?” Adria gasps in a loud whisper.

 Ned rolls his eyes. “Of course. What, have you been living under a rock?”

 After the power couple get their food, they sit at the table where Peter and Harley are sitting. “So, did we do ok, kid?” Tony asks.

 “Well, now the whole world is going to know you’re dating. They’re not ‘just speculating’ anymore.” Peter smirks.

 “Babe, we can have a make out session on the table now!” Bucky’s eyes twinkle. “We don’t have to hide anymore!”

 “Gosh no, please, please no!” Peter groans. “Ugh. I hate you all right now.”

 “We love you, too,” Harley coos.

 Twenty minutes later, Harley and Mr. Harrington round up the class to proceed with the tour. Bucky pulls Tony up and says, “Come on, Mr. Stark, you have a meeting with Ms. Potts to which you must not be late if you know what’s good for you.” “Oh, are you giving me orders, Sergeant Barnes?” Tony asks back, and Peter knows his face is bright red.

 “Just… go.” He mutters, and he’s sure only Bucky was able to hear him. Bucky takes it as a cue to leave. He takes Tony’s arm.

 “Here is where I must take my leave,” Tony, ever the showman, bows. “Thank you all for touring my humble company, and I do hope you all have enjoyed yourselves. Bye, Petey.” He wiggles his fingers. Peter hides his face in his hands.

 “Kill me now,” he pleads to Ned.

 The rest of the field trip goes off without a hitch, and the ride back to school is peaceful. Peter imagines everyone is on Twitter going on about Winteriron or something. He realizes that Tony and Bucky did this so that no one would bother him about the internship. Once again, he is choked up to see just how caring and thoughtful Tony is.  The next person who says differently can catch these hands. He thinks.

 Peter leaves quickly when school ends so he doesn’t miss his bus that has a tendency to show up early. Tony is waiting for him at the tower when he gets there. “So how did we do today?”

 “You guys were embarrassing, but I guess I’ve come to terms with it.” Peter grumbles. “That’s what family does. Thank you for taking all the attention off of me. You didn't have to go semi-public with your relationship.”

 “Let you have the spotlight? Never! Don't you know I need it all?” Tony jokes, then smiles softly. “I only did what Rhodey would’ve done to me.”

 Peter smiles, “Rhodey is a gift to this world.”

 “Peter, my dear, you are brilliant, but let me tell you, that is the smartest and most correct thing you have ever said,” Tony takes him by the shoulders. “But if you ever tell my honeybear that, I will deny it vehemently.”

 “Understood. Hey want to play a game of chess?” When Tony agrees, Peter gets the chessboard out that Wanda had given him. Apparently, it had belonged to her father. Peter just likes the glass pieces.

  Epilogue

On Monday, Flash apologizes to him when they return to school. “Hey Parker, I… uh… I’m sorry for all that shit I said about you. I guess it just seemed unreal, and I shouldn’t have made fun of you like that.”

 “Yea, you shouldn’t have. Being a dick doesn’t make you cool; it just makes you look like a dick. But I do understand. My life is pretty surreal. No harm done – just don’t do it anymore to anyone.” Peter tells him.

 Flash nods, “Yea, I know. So, have you met Spiderman? Is he as cool as he seems?”

 “Nah, I hate him. He’s a total loser. He once stole my ice cream sandwich and didn't replace it or apologize.” Peter smiles. “Now, Thor? He’s not called a god for no reason. He would never do that.”

 Peter walks out of school much happier than usual. Maybe this field trip wasn’t so bad.

[mlqclucien]

Lucien Fanfiction: Distraction (SFW)

[This is my second fanfic for Lucien. I’m really happy I can get back into writing fanfiction, I haven’t written anything in weeks and I needed this. Plus I’m sick and have nothing else to do but make Lucien fan blush ;)]

Okay ENJOY. I almost exploded writing. Whew!

***

MC’s eyes are glued to the screen as she types away at her computer. She has a show report due by the end of the week and she had already lost a bit of time. Earlier in the week, MC has been working in her room, writing a draft and kept hearing noises in the walls. When she called the landlord about the issue, it was discovered that there was an infestation. She would have to stay out of her room for a few days until it was dealt with. For the past 24 hours, she’s been staying with Lucien, who didn’t hesitate to welcome her to his home. She was hesitant at first, since the only other time they had shared a room was during their vacation, but so far, Lucien had made her feel right at home. He chose to sleep on the couch while she took the bed (though he was insistent that he had no problem sharing~). He even moved some stuff around to give her a comfortable place for her to do her work. He really did look after her well. 

MC yawns loudly, takes a sip of coffee and continues typing. Looking over at the clock on screen, she noticed it was nearing 10pm. This means two things, 1) Lucien should be getting back from the lab soon and 2) MC’s bedtime was right around the corner. She felt her eyelids get heavier and heavier.

“I’ll just close my eyes for a second.” She says, pushing the keyboard forward and laying into her folded arms. She passed out in seconds without even realizing it.

The door handle begins to jiggle as the clock hits 10:30pm. Lucien enters the room, the door handle in one hand and his suitcase in another. The neuroscientist takes a deep breath, loosens his tie, exhales slowly, and drops his suitcase to the ground, exhausted from the long day. He takes off his shoes, gently kicking them to the side. Looking over to the corner of the room, he noticed MC, fast asleep at her desk. His eyes widen in surprise, still not used to her staying at his home, but smiles and tries to be more silent. He shuts the door gently, locking it as quietly as he can. He removes his lab coat, hanging it on the coat hanger near the door, and walks over to the sleeping girl.

“You’re sleeping habits are truly terrible.” He chuckles to himself. “But... I can’t deny how cute you are, Silly.” He stares at her for a couple minutes, watching her lovingly. As bad as it was to have her room infested, he couldn’t help but be happy that he could be able to come home to a cute girl every night after work. He shakes his head and smiles, debating whether or not to wake her up. He looks at the screen and sees the “Due By” date on the document. Being that whatever she is working on is due soon, he figures waking her is probably the best option. But really, the work is just an excuse, he just wants to be able to be able to greet her properly.

Lucien touches MC’s shoulder and gives it a small shake, making her jolt up. MC sits up, her eyes clouded and her heart racing from the shock. Before even noticing the man beside her, MC sees the cup of coffee, grabs it, gulps it down and starts typing as if she had never stopped.

“Hm, so I can’t even get a ''hello” when I return from work?'' The scientist says, disappointment in his voice but a grin on his face. “That really hurts my feelings.” MC jumps at his voice and turns around, finally noticing him.

“Oh my god! Lucien, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!” she explains frantically. “I was working all day and I wanted to take a nap earlier but I just had to finish up some things and run some errands and… I didn’t mean to-” Lucien stands closer to her and pats her head, making her stop talking.

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to panic.” He assures her with a grin. “I’ll let you get back to your work, you seem to be very invested in it. You can make it up to me later.”

“Oh, thank you so muc- wait, what do you mean “make it up to you”?”

Lucien walks toward the bathroom, ignoring her question.

“I’m going to go take a shower real quick.” He tells her, shutting the door.

MC nods at him slowly. She instantly focuses back on her work and starts typing once again. The sound of the shower running could be heard. MC feels a bit distracted by this. The thought of being in the same room as him while he’s showering. Her face heats up just thinking about it.

(NO! Stop that! This is totally normal. Don’t be embarrassed! Focus on your work.)

A few minutes go by and the bathroom door opens, making the sound of the shower more audible. MC looks over as a reflex. Lucien is standing there, dripping water head to toe, with nothing but a black towel around his waist. MC immediately turns back around and covers her eyes with her hands.

“I’M S-SO SORRY! I just heard the door open and-”

“No, no I’m sorry! I forgot my robe and I just needed to grab it from the bedroom real quick.” Lucien explains, quickly walking to the other side of the apartment. He goes in and shuts the door. MC heart begins to race, still recovering. 

(Oh man, this is all my fault. I should have just stayed in a hotel for a few days. Now I’m just making him uncomfortable!). She uncovers her eyes and looks at the document open on her computer screen again, trying to regain focus. Her fingers tried to type, but her mind wasn’t completely calm yet. 

(It’s fine, I’ve seen him without a shirt once, at the beach… it’s not like I haven’t seen that before… NO NO, this is completely different! He was in a towel! He was technically wearing NOTHING! Oh god, maybe I should just go back to my room and hope the gas they’ve used can knock me out.) 

The bedroom door slowly opens, making MC freeze up. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Lucien clad in a deep red robe. She doesn’t dare look over. (Nope, nuh uh.)

“I’m so sorry about that. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” Lucien says to her.

“No! No! I’m sorry. I’ve come into your home. It must be really uncomfortable for you. Maybe I should go stay with a friend so I won’t be in your way.” His footsteps approach her, but she still doesn’t turn around. While he’s behind her, he places his hands on her shoulders.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable in the least. You can stay here as long as you need to. (Or longer if you’d like).”

“I-I only need to stay until Friday.” He smiles to himself and let’s her shoulders go.

“I’ve distracted you enough. I promise I’ll let you get back to your show report.”

“No no you’re fine, you’re not distracting me at all.”

“Hm… I see.” He says quietly, but loud enough for MC to hear.

(What did that mean? Oh never mind that, Come on, let’s finish this report!)

Almost half an hour passes before the sound of the shower stops.

(Wow, he takes really long showers.) MC thinks to herself. The door opens. In the corner of her eye is a robe clad Lucien with a towel on his head. Her own curiosity makes her want to look over a little more, but she shakes her head and looks back at the screen, typing away. Lucien walks across the apartment again towards the bedroom. 

(Hm, he’s probably gonna get dressed for bed. Does he normally go to sleep at this time? Wait, does he actually sleep at all? What does he wear to bed I wonder…. WAIT?! I DON’T WANNA KNOW THAT?! Why did I think that? Come on, focus!!!). Lucien walks out of the bedroom and shuts it behind him. He’s wearing a black t-shirt,long black pajama pants and tan-coloured house shoes.

“Focus!” She scolds herself out loud, not realizing how loud she was. She covers her mouth quickly. Lucien can’t help but overhear this and starts quietly chuckling. He walks over and places his arms around MC’s shoulders, catching her off guard.

“Lucien! Sorry, you startled me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He says. A few seconds go by and he still hasn’t moved or said anything. MC is confused, but decided to just continue typing. “What are you working on exactly?” Lucien asks her.

“Um, well, uh… ahem, just a report for the next show. It’s due soon so I have to spend as much time as I can on it.”

“What’s the episode about?”

“Oh, well, there’s a family we want to interview. They believe each one of them has a different super power. They have a newborn baby, they are worried because since their powers all vary, they have no idea what the baby’s could be.”

“That’s really interesting. I’m sure that will be a popular episode, Families all over Loveland would want to tune in.”

“Aww thank you. I feel pretty confident in this one.”

(He’s still got his arms around me… maybe he just forgot… should I say something? I mean, it’s not bad, but…). MC feels Lucien lean in closer, resting his head on her shoulder. 

“How close are you to finishing, considering the deadline?” His voice is quite close to her ears and they can’t help but turn red. She reaches up to scratch her ear, hoping to make it stop.

“Well, this is just a draft right now. I’ll finalize it tomorrow once I’ve finished. Then I have to have someone go through and see if it’s okay before I turn it in. So, a lot of steps”

“Oh I see, this is quite the important paper...”

“Mmhmm.” She says, half ignoring him while she types. She nears the end of a paragraph and tries to decide how to conclude.

“But is it more important than me?” He whispers into her ear, pulling her closer to him. MC jumps, making her coffee cup tip and almost fall over. “Oh dear… did I startle you again? Sorry about that...”

(What?! Of course you did!)

“N-no, I’m sorry, you just caught me off guard... Ahem, where was I…?”

“You didn’t answer my question?”

“Lucien I-” MC sighs. “No, it’s not MORE important. Um, you both are important. But, um, once I finish, then we can, like, hang out if you want.”

“I understand.” He says smiling. “Well, go on then.” He removes his hands from her shoulder, making her sigh in relief. But he quickly places them around her waist from behind.

“Lucien…”

“Yes.”

“I need to work…”

“Okay... and?” 

She lets out a giggle at this, but quickly stops herself.

(NO! Do not give in! We don’t have time for this!)

“AND it’s hard to do so with you… so close.”

“Oh, so, you’re saying I’m making it hard for you to focus?” 

In the darker parts of the screen, she can see his reflection and he has a big smirk on his face. “I’m not distracting you am I? Hm?”

(Oh god, he’s doing this on purpose, UGH!)

“No, I don’t mind having you here! It’s just that, um, if you could...”

“Uh huh?” He begins to nuzzle into the nape of her neck, making her blush deeper.

“I… um… uh… it’s just...”

“ ‘I… um… it’s just…?’ ” He echoes mockingly. “What’s wrong, cat got your silly little tongue?”

“No! Just, be quiet...” She whines, placing her hands back on the keyboard.

“You seem quite tense, maybe you should take a break.” He is no longer containing his chuckling.

(Oh man… maybe I could just take a little break... NO! We have to be firm and direct!)

“Ahem. Lucien, I can’t do this right now. I cannot take a break. This paper is important-”

“And I’m not?” He asks in her ear again. She shudders involuntarily, making him laugh with satisfaction.

“No y-you are, but I made a plan to finish this tonight and finalize it tomorrow and I just can’t right now. But we can, um, do this some other time.” He squeezes me tighter in his arms

“I’m not doing anything to keep you from typing. If you want to work, please feel free.”

MC realizes there’s nothing else she can do and decides to just try and continue working.

(Maybe he’ll eventually get bored and leave).

Each time MC makes a spelling or grammar error and has to backspace makes Lucien chuckle. She’s completely distracted no matter how hard she tries to ignore him.

“You still owe me from earlier.” He says in a low voice.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I came back from a long, hard day of work, finally able to come home to a cute girl and here I find you, fast asleep at your desk.”

“I’m sorry, I was just tire-”

“And then when you wake up, you don’t even greet me. No “hello”, no hug, not even smile. *sigh* Poor me.”

He’s still smiling, she can hear it in his voice.

“I said I was sorry,” MC apologizes, letting out a nervous laugh.

“You can still make it up to me by leaving this project for tomorrow and focusing on me instead.”

“Not now. Later.”

“Nope, now.”

“LA-TER.” She bites her lip to avoid grinning, but it’s no use.

“You know what’s interesting?”

“What now?” MC asks, nervously laughing again.

“You been on this same paragraph since I took my shower.”

MC freezes up. She looks at her document to double check.

(What? No I wrote more… oh wait he’s right. Nothing sounded right so I just kept backspacing. And I was so distracted I actually didn’t even make any progress. Crap! Damn him and his observation skills).

“Oh, was I right?” He places a kiss in her neck, sucking it a bit to leave a mark, making her let out a squeak. “What was that? Was that you? Silly girl.”

“.....”

(… fine…. you win. You jerk...)

He kisses her again, except on the cheek this time, humming happily to himself.

“Ugh, so, that  “I forgot my robe” thing” was planned wasn’t it?” The keyboard now is nothing but a place for her hands to rest. She pushes it forward and sets her hands on the desk. The monitor turns black as there has been no activity.

“Why do you say that?” He asks, kissing her neck again. She held back a moan to his dissatisfaction.

“Cause I know you. Plus you have photographic memory, obviously.” He smirks and kisses below her ear. She lets out a small whimper after trying to hold back.

“So you were distracted that whole time?”

“No!”

“Aw don’t lie.”

 “I’m not! I wrote a sen...tence or two. I was just more worried that I was being a burden than anything else.”

“A burden? Oh no, quite the opposite.” He kisses her neck between words. “I *kiss* enjoy *kiss* having *kiss* you here *kiss*.”

(Okay… Crap… Why is he so sweet...? I’ll just... leave this project for another time… god, I promised myself I wouldn’t procrastinate this time… UGH, Damn it Lucien., why are you this way?).

MC turns the office chair to face Lucien. He smiles victoriously as he lifts her out of the chair and into his arms. MC wraps her arms around his neck and presses her lips to his. After kissing for a minute or two Lucien quickly places MC back onto the ground and puts his hands in his pockets.

(Huh? Wait, what?)

“I’m so sorry,” Lucien says apologetically, his fingers pressing his brows together. “But we’ll have to continue some other time. I’m afraid I’m still quite busy. You can go back and do your work now if you’d like.” 

MC just stares at him, her mouth agape, not hiding her shock at all. This causes Lucien to laugh out loud, holding his stomach and cover his mouth with his other hand. MC turns even redder and crosses her arms.

“I was just joking, silly girl. I didn’t imagine you’d look so stunned.” He starts to crack up once more.

“Ugh! Shut up will you. You are so annoying…” He smiles at her, holds her in his arms and kisses her lips again. MC gives in and returns it, finding her arms around his neck again, as if they belonged there. He picks her up in his arms again, not breaking the kiss.

“Maybe you’d have…  finished before... I came back... if you hadn’t fallen asleep... Silly.” Lucien says between kisses. “You are you’re terrible sleep habits. Tsk tsk tsk.” MC weakly hits his shoulders in retaliation, making him laugh lightly.

“Stop… talking… you...”

Lucien walks with her in his arms toward the bedroom.

[samsonet]

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

Sonia was somebody, once. Maybe she'll be somebody now, too.

Title from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnet 43, "How Do I Love Thee?"

~

Galar has one hero. Everyone knows this.

One hero, wielding the legendary sword and shield, saved the region from the Darkest Day.

One hero, rising above all others, gaining glory with every victory.

Everyone knows this.

*

When Sonia was fifteen, she wandered into the Slumbering Weald.

She was lost. She was tired and cold and hungry. Leon was Champion, Nessa and Raihan were training to be gym leaders, and Sonia was —

Sonia was —

nothing and nobody.

She was lost, that’s all.

*

Gloria twirls her hair the same way Sonia does.

She holds herself the way Sonia does, like she’s not sure if she’s really allowed to be here, to be doing this.

She leans on Hop the way Sonia leaned on Leon, always walking two steps behind.

Sonia worries for them.

She watches the kids’ journey, in person when she can and on the league channels when she can’t.

Of course, the media picks up on how Hop and Gloria reflect Leon and his childhood rival — what was her name again? Professor Magnolia’s granddaughter — oh, yeah, Sonia. They broadcast every parallel, from how long it takes them to reach the gyms to which moves they use in different situations.

One cruel Chattr account sets up a poll about how long it will take Gloria to drop out.

Sonia blocks them.

*

She and Leon used to be close.

They pretty much grow up together, sipping hot cocoa in Gran’s lab and talking about their futures. Leon has high hopes — he’s always had high hopes, especially for a nobody from a town the rest of the region forgot.

She calls him Leo because she wants to give him a nickname and Hop’s the only one allowed to call him Lee. Leon calls her Sunny in return.

They’re kids. They’re happy.

Then one day, Chairman Rose arrives.

Who knows what he saw in Leon? The story goes that Leon had something about his eyes, but if he did, wouldn’t Sonia have noticed it first?

Whatever the case, Leon holds onto the sponsorship letter with both hands. He rushes home to say goodbye to his family, and an hour later he’s at the station, leaving her behind.

Gran hands her a letter, too, because apparently the regional professor can do that. “He’s your friend, isn’t he? Then become the best rival you can be, to help him get stronger.”

Sonia runs after her friend.

It’s the first time she has to catch up to him. It won’t be the last.

They grow stronger together, for a while. But every time they fight, Leon wins.

They battle.

He wins.

They battle.

He wins.

They battle.

Sonia loses.

She loses to him.

She loses him.

Leon becomes the Champion. Sonia goes home. Suddenly they never have enough time to just hang out. They try battling for cups and exhibition matches, but the skill difference is so big that it’s no longer fun for either of them.

Leon remains in Wyndon. Sonia goes home.

She leaves voicemail messages, mostly things like how tall Hop has grown or how the weather is. He leaves his own messages in return.

Everything changes, but at the same time, it feels like nothing did.

*

Gran sends her to research the Darkest Day.

It’s an excuse to get her out of the house, probably. Sonia knows she’s been moping. She did the work to get her master’s degree, but even that doesn’t give her a sense of direction. It’s just something she does, because that’s the path her story takes.

Galar has one story. Galar has one hero.

When the people cheer, they’re yelling Leon’s name.

*

Opal says, “You had more correct answers than Leon did.”

It’s the first time since the beginning of the challenge that Sonia has actually done something better than Leon. She looks up at the gym leader, eyes wide.

“You obviously have talent,” Opal observes, “but you give up too easily. I suppose it must be hard being Professor Magnolia’s granddaughter, yes?”

“Haha… I guess…”

Opal laughs. “I wish you luck, child. Though with your skill, you might not need it.”

*

It’s pure luck that she’s there when the mural falls and reveals two statues.

Two statues.

The theory forms in her head like an arrow reaching a target. One hero — two youths — history is written by the survivors — a sword and a shield — one hero — the Darkest Day — history can be covered up — one hero — who knew about this? — who changed it? — why?

Galar has one hero.

Everyone knows this.

Right?

Maybe not.

*

She meets Nessa at the opening ceremony, but it’s at Hulbury when they actually become friends.

“I know water-types like the back of my hand!” she boasts, spreading her arms wide. “This is my city, and I’m gonna shine in the gym battle!”

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m gonna win, too! My team is strong!” From Sonia’s arms, Yamper barks. He knows what he’s here for.

But Nessa laughs, trying to hide it behind her hand.

“What’s so funny?”

“If I can give you a word of advice? The gym leader’s got a Palpitoad. You need to figure out a way to beat ‘im without Yamper.”

Sonia bites her lip, considering.

She spends the rest of the day on the route back to Turffield, catching an Eldegoss.

When Sonia leaves the Stadium victorious, she finds Nessa and thanks her. “It was nice of you to tell me that. You could’ve just let me walk in there and lose.”

“I like you,” Nessa says, sticking out her hand. “If you wanna repay me, think about this: be my rival all the way to Wyndon!”

Leon is already my rival.

But Sonia has two hands.

She reaches out and shakes Nessa’s.

“I accept, rival!”

*

It doesn’t have to be like this, Sonia muses, back at the lab. She pictures the region as the outline of a hand, holding onto its story, holding onto its champion. When it can be like this. Galar has two heroes.

She snorts.

Her grandmother asks, “What’s so funny?”

Sonia finds she doesn’t quite have the words.

*

Sonia writes.

She writes everything. She writes like it’s all she knows how to do. She pours her heart on the page and backs it up with sixty pages of citations.

Her gran’s publisher picks up the book. Part of it is her name, probably, but Gran reminds her that academic presses are strict. If the research wasn’t credible, they wouldn’t have accepted it no matter whose name was on the cover.

Sonia takes some pride in that.

*

When Sonia was fifteen, she wandered into the Slumbering Weald.

She was lost, but somehow she felt called farther up and further in. Farther up and further in. Farther up — and then she finds it.

It’s a crumbling ruin. That in itself isn’t strange; Galar is full of ruins, after all.

But this spot…

There’s power here. She can feel it.

The fog surrounds her.

She reaches out.

The fog whispers, you are not the hero of this story.

*

“Hop and Gloria know what they’re doing with their lives,” Gran says. “You should be more like them.”

Gran, Sonia wants to say, They’re twelve. When I was twelve, I knew what I was doing with my life, too.

What she says is, “I’ve got time, don’t I? I’ll figure something out.”

*

Once, during a very sad off-season, Sonia and Raihan go on a date.

They spend the entire time talking about Leon.

She’s not sure what she expected.

*

When Sonia is seventeen, Nessa visits. She’s come out all the way to Wedgehurst, so it must be big news.

Sure enough, she doesn’t disappoint. Nessa grins, bright and beaming, and says, “It’s official! I’m a gym leader, Sunny!”

Oh. “That’s -- that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you!”

Nessa’s quiet for a moment. Sonia guesses what she’s thinking: You don’t have to pretend to be happy for me. It’s okay if you’re mad or sad or something that I’m moving forward and you aren’t.

But Nessa grins and says, “Why don’t I take you out for dinner? Come on, my treat!”

Maybe Sonia doesn’t know what her friends think, after all.

(They have a good time, regardless.)

*

When Sonia is twenty-one, she wanders into the Slumbering Weald again.

Ah, but she’s not wandering now, is she? She’s guiding a hero.

At the stone monument, Hop is waiting for his rival. One hero of Galar runs to meet the other. He welcomes her with open arms.

They have one final battle, not as gym challengers, not as Sonia and Leon part two. This time, they’re friends and rivals. This time, they’re legends.

Gloria and Zacian strike.

Hop and Zamazenta defend.

And in the end…

“I want to become a Pokémon Professor,” Hop declares. Gloria nods enthusiastically, then hugs him. There’s no gap between them, now; they’re complementing parts, each with their own purpose.

When Leon appears, it’s all Sonia can do to keep from hugging him, too.

*

When Sonia is eleven, she enters Hulbury and is ambushed by a group of reporters.

“Sonia! As Leon’s rival, do you have any tips on how to defeat him?”

“Sonia! Are the rumors true that your grandmother is developing a new form of Dynamaxing?”

“Can you give a comment about why you retired from battling professionally?”

She hates this. She wants to scream.

Then the boy king himself appears. “What’re you all doing?”

Sonia gives him a helpless shrug. Go away, Leo! Let me die of embarrassment in peace!

But Leon doesn’t go away. Instead, he pushes into the crowd and stands between her and the others.

“You wanna bother her? Why don’t you battle me first!”

The reporters pause.

Leon doesn’t show any signs of joking.

The reporters back off.

Later, when they’ve lost the press and hidden on some rocks by the lighthouse, she asks, “Why’d you bother stepping in, Leo?”

Why waste your time with me? Don’t you have a new, stronger rival now?

“I dunno.” He kicks the air. “I guess… Since you don’t battle anymore… I feel like I gotta keep an eye out for you. I wanna help you.”

She gives a smile that she doesn’t feel. “You can’t always help people by winning battles, you know.”

Leon looks away.

*

One day, over a cup of tea, Hop says, “Y’know, I’ve been thinking.”

It’s his serious tone. Sonia sets aside her paperwork and gives him her full attention. “What is it?”

“If I’d been the one to become the champion,” Hop says, “I think I would’ve been miserable.”

“...oh?”

“I know it sounds weird, ‘cause that was my dream and all, but… if I became champion, everyone would still be thinking of me as Leon’s little brother. I’d still be trying to be like him… cool, strong, unbeatable… and I’d never figure out what I wanted for myself.”

That’s true: the media had enough of a field day with Hop as a challenger; as a champion, he would get it worse.

(In contrast, Gloria was cast as everygirl rival and not Leon 2.0. Sonia wonders if that allowed her to keep a clear mind during everything.)

Sonia smiles. “Right. Be careful what you wish for, because you might get it. And the reverse: be thankful that you don’t always get what you want.”

Hop brightens. “Yeah. Now I’m doing what I want to do, and it’s really nice.”

*

When Sonia is fifteen, she wanders into the Slumbering Weald.

She’s lost, but she walks forward by intuition if not sight.

She can feel the power here. This is a place where legends begin. This is a place where heroes are made.

She wants it. She wants, she wants, she wants.

The fog surrounds her.

She stands as tall as she can, the nobody from nowhere, the forgotten rival. Is she worthy?

The fog whispers, You are not the hero of this story.

“I can be! Let me, let me, please —!”

The fog whispers, You are destined to wait here while others pass on before you.

She screams. She cries. She strikes with her bare fists — but of course, whatever she’s aiming for is out of reach.

The fog whispers, Be strong, child. Your time has not yet come.