#if I do get messages I’ll try to respond but they’ll be delayed

[fruitcoops]

More “biting” 😉 stories of coops please?

Anon 1: Do you think you’d be willing to do more kinky coops? Maybe a follow up to truth or drink where Sirius gets tied up again?

Anon 2: Mixed prompts 80-83 pls!!

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! This is part 1 of today’s fics--hope you enjoy! Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove, whom I love and adore.

TW for restraint kink, edging, smut, and hickeys

Mixed Prompt 80:  “ You’re going to regret that sweetheart.”

81: “Are we clear?”

82: “Try to stay quiet, understand?”

83:  “Don’t hold back, baby.”

“Did you see Coach’s email?” Remus asked as he scrolled through his inbox and reached for another piece of chocolate; they were shaped like little hearts, because Sirius was a sweet, sweet muppet of a man and had a romantic streak wider than the continental US.

“I did, yeah,” Sirius said from the doorway to the kitchen. “It’ll be pretty nice, having two days off in a row.”

Remus read through the rest of the message. Too much snow, unsafe conditions, practice cancelled, yada yada yada. A sudden thought struck him and he glanced up. “Hey, maybe we could try something a little more…”

Sirius grinned as the chocolate clattered to the countertop, along with Remus’ phone. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

Remus swallowed around the sudden dryness of his mouth. Chest. Arms??? THIGHS. FUCK. “Huh?”

“I was saving these for our actual day off, but it seems fate had other plans.” Sirius’ grin became a downright smirk as he quirked an eyebrow and bent his knee.

“When—how—what?” Remus couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tight, dark red fabric that covered Sirius’ legs up to his thighs. Bows. The socks had bows on the top, and they matched his underwear. “How long have you been standing there?”

Sirius shrugged. The upper half of his body was bare, and Remus tracked the movement of every muscle. “About five minutes. Your email must be very exciting.”

A soft whine escaped his throat. “Where did you get those?”

“Online.” Sirius flexed his thigh and all the air rushed from Remus’ lungs. “Why, do you like them?”

“I want to take them off with my teeth,” he blurted. “Fucking hell, Sirius.”

“That can be arranged.” Mischief played at the edge of his mouth as he began backing away. “Though you’ll have to catch me first.”

And he ran. Remus stood there in shock for a moment before sprinting after him, skidding on the floor as he grabbed the bannister. Sirius was already on the bed when he made it to their room and snapped the top of one thigh-high at Remus playfully.

“You’re going to regret that, sweetheart.”

“Promise?”

Remus was on him in an instant, sucking a bruise into the side of his neck as he pushed Sirius’ arms over his head and settled between his thighs, grinding his hips down. “How long have you had these?” When Sirius smiled instead of responding, he bit down on his shoulder. “Tell me.”

“Four days.”

“Where did you hide them?”

Sirius gasped at the pressure on his wrists. “Nightstand.”

“Do you have any idea what you look like right now?”

A slow, smug look covered his face and he nipped Remus’ bottom lip. “Yes.”

“Turn over.” Sirius bucked his hips up instead, and Remus let go of his hands to flip him hard enough he bounced a bit, then attached his mouth to his shoulder blade. “God, you look fucking incredible in red, baby.”

“You think this was an accident?”

“Somebody’s feeling bratty.” Remus dragged his blunt nails down Sirius’ ribs, and he shivered. “Just for that, I’m going to finger you until you’re begging for it. Are we clear?”

Sirius turned his head to the side and rolled his hips back. “I’m not begging for anything.”

“We’ll see.” Remus continued mouthing along the strong line of his shoulders as he fumbled blindly in the nightstand drawer for the lube, then paused. He straddled Sirius’ waist and leaned over to sift through the various items that they had tossed in without thinking—playing cards, a book, Sirius’ tie, a few condoms that they hadn’t touched in months… “What the fuck?”

“What?”

“Where’s the lube?”

“Are we out?”

Dread pooled in Remus’ gut. The mere thought of trekking through the snow to get lube or—even worse—finding out all the stores were closed was almost enough to kill his boner. Almost. Sirius was still in red underwear and fucking thigh highs, after all. “No. We can’t be out. Didn’t we just buy some the other day?”

Sirius shrugged. “It’s been a while, I don’t know.”

“It has been a while,” Remus muttered.

“I think I put some in the laundry room so we would have extra.”

Relief made butterflies erupt in his chest and he kissed Sirius’ cheek. “You are so smart and I love you. Hang on one second, okay?”

Remus’ hands shook a little bit as he hurried back downstairs and down the hall, standing on his tiptoes to see into the cupboards. Laundry detergent, Windex, fabric sheets, two pairs of Jules’ socks…

He pushed the detergent aside and felt around for the familiar bottle. “Where the hell did you put it? Come on, baby, work with me here.”

Clear plastic caught the light on the highest shelf and Remus thumped his forehead against the washing machine. He got the stepstool with minimal grumbling and grabbed the lube, making a mental note to block that entire shelf and remind Sirius that he was five foot fucking eleven, which was well above average.

“Baby, we need to have a discussion about—” He stopped cold in the bedroom doorway, then sighed. “Really?”

Sirius arched his back as he pressed two fingers back into himself, his jaw going a little slack. “You were slow.”

Remus took a deep breath when he saw the half-full bottle of lube on the bed next to him. “Where’d you hide that?”

“Under my pillow. You didn’t even check.” Sirius’ breath caught as his hand changed angles, but his smile remained. “I thought you’d call me on it for sure.”

“You know, most people wouldn’t play terribly mean tricks on their fiancé on Valentine’s Day, especially when that fiancé was already going to fuck them so hard they can’t walk straight,” Remus said as he walked slowly toward the bed and tossed the other bottle next to Sirius. “You’d better count your lucky stars we don’t have practice for the next two days.”

“Oh?” Sirius eyes fluttered shut for a second and he reached for more.

Remus smacked his hand away. “Yes. Was the shelf really necessary?”

“I had to delay you somehow. Did you use the stepstool, or did you climb on the dryer?”

“None of your fucking business, tall-ass. Turn over.”

“Make me.”

Remus reached back into the nightstand and pulled the tie out, manhandling Sirius’ arms over his head and tying them to the small ring they had put in the headboard for that exact purpose. Sirius made a confused noise when Remus grabbed his silky-soft underwear off the foot of the bed and slid it back up his legs until it was snug and tight again. “Much better.”

“Wait, wait, wait, what happened to fucking me until I can’t walk straight?” Sirius’ eyebrows drew together and he nudged his leg against Remus’ side, only to have it guided back down by a firm hand. “Come on, sweetheart, it’s Valentine’s Day!”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” Remus said drily as he squeezed the thin strip of bare skin on Sirius’ thighs. “Between the super fun game of tag and then hide-and-seek, I thought you didn’t want me to touch you.”

“But you will, right?” Nervousness laced his voice. “Right?”

“Maybe. Might get myself off and then leave you here, though.” He leaned over and dragged his lips down Sirius’ chest. “I’m still on the fence.”

“Non, non, non, get off the fence. The fence is not a fun place to be.”

“Really?” He continued to the edge of Sirius’ waistband and dipped his tongue under the satiny fabric, then feathered his mouth along the outline of his dick until Sirius’ knees started inching upward in pleasure. “Hmm. I think it’s a great place to be, actually. You could beg yourself hoarse and I wouldn’t have to do a goddamn thing.”

“What do I have to do?” Sirius panted. The front of his boxers was already darkening with precome and his pupils dilated when Remus palmed himself through his pants.

“Try to stay quiet, understand?”

Sirius clenched his thighs around Remus’ waist as he pulled his shirt off, only to shakily straighten them out again when Remus fixed him with a withering look. His dick looked painfully hard as Remus got off the bed and slid his pants down his legs, giving Sirius a great view of his ass under the tight black underwear he was wearing.

“Oh, yeah, that was supposed to be a surprise for you,” he said mildly when Sirius whined. “It’s Valentine’s Day, after all. One of us was getting railed tonight.”

Sirius perked up. “Really?”

“That was the original plan. Now that you’ve got these—” He plucked the edges of the thigh-highs as he knelt on the mattress again. “—I might need to rethink that idea.”

“Nope, no you don’t.” Sirius wrapped his legs around Remus’ hips and tugged him down. “You really don’t need to rethink that, it sounds like a fantastic idea—”

Remus pressed his palm over Sirius’ mouth and pushed his legs down with the other. “What did I say about being quiet?”

A soft noise tore from his chest as Remus ran the heel of his hand up Sirius’ dick and felt it twitch beneath the fabric. “Desolée,” he said as Remus scooted backwards a few inches. “Desolée, mon coeur.”

“Good job.” Sirius sighed happily as he worked a hickey onto the bit of skin between his underwear and his socks, but his chest hitched when Remus moved barely an inch to the side.

“What’re you doing?”

“Decorating.”

“Me?”

He sighed and bracketed Sirius’ ribs with his elbows, resting his chin on his hands. “Yes, you. You’re beautiful, and I’m just making sure people know you’re appreciated. Now be quiet.”

“Nobody’s going to see those. They’ll be gone in three days.”

“I’ll know.” Remus placed a slightly darker bruise on his inner thigh and Sirius’ hips canted to the side with pleasure. He hummed against his skin, then pulled away. “I’ll have to finish these when I turn you over.”

“When?”

“If.”

“Re.”

“Oh, come on,” he scoffed with a smile, leaning up for a brief kiss. “You know me better than that.”

Sirius’ eyes crinkled. “I do.”

“Let me enjoy myself in the meantime, yeah? I think I deserve it after everything you’ve done today,” he teased, adding new hickeys to Sirius’ other thigh until the bare skin was mostly dark lilac. He skimmed kisses down both his legs, paying special attention to the backs of his knees and the cute little bows at the tops of his thighs. “I love these.”

“Yeah?” A pink flush spread to Sirius’ chest.

“Yeah. Somehow, they’re both adorable and sexy.” Remus reached up and tapped his nose. “Just like you.”

And then he licked a long, slow stripe up the front of Sirius’ underwear, which made him shake from head to toe. “Oh, fuck me.”

“Not yet.” He did it again, this time giving his hips a squeeze. A choked moan slipped through and he shushed him softly. “Quiet, baby, remember? I’ll tell you when you can make noise for me.”

“Oh.” Sirius’ eyebrows pitched upward as Remus slowly slid the sticky fabric down and replaced it with his tongue. “S’il vous plait. S’il vous plait, mon cœur, je le veux, s’il vous plait. ”

“What did I tell you?”

“I—I—” Sirius clenched his teeth as Remus sucked just the head of his dick into his mouth. His abdomen jolted under Remus’ palms.

“You’re getting all accent-y.” Remus smirked, leaving a mark on the crest of his hipbone. “I told you that you could beg yourself hoarse and I wouldn’t have to do a god—” He kissed the soft skin below Sirius’ ribs. “—damn—” Another kiss, just under his sternum. “—thing.”

A tremor ran through Sirius and he pulled on his restraint for a moment, hard enough that the headboard creaked. “Ngh. I love you.”

“I love you, too. I think it’s time to finish those decorations, hmm?”

Sirius nodded enthusiastically and Remus untied his hands, flipping him by the hips for the second time. He practically purred as Remus tied him up again and pressed his hands into that broad back; Remus pushed his knees until they bent and Sirius propped himself on his elbows, breathing heavily and bare but for his thigh high socks.

“Color?”

“Green.” There was no hesitation in his voice.

“Good.” Instead of going straight to his legs again—which were flexed in the new position and doing absolutely wonderful things to Remus’ thought process—Remus grabbed the half-empty lube and poured some on his fingers.

“What’re you doing?” Sirius asked, trying to shift around and see. He froze when the first finger pushed in without an issue. “Huh. But—but you said—”

“I didn’t tell you to start making noise.” Sirius pressed his face into the pillow and his knees jerked inward as Remus added a second finger. “You already did this part for me, didn’t you?”

“Mhmm.”

“But I didn’t tell you to.”

“No.” The word was barely a whisper.

“And as much as I love you—” He kissed Sirius’ lower back and scraped his teeth along the dimples there. “—and want to make you fall apart, I can’t let you do whatever you want without consequences.”

“Yes, you can,” Sirius gasped, tightening around him as Remus pressed upward. “You can, I don’t mind.”

“No, I can’t, and you’d better be quiet before I drag this out even longer.”

There was a beat of silence while Sirius got ahold of himself again. “How long? The usual?”

“Since it’s Valentine’s Day, eight minutes.” Remus smoothed a hand up his spine and pressed down between his shoulder blades until most of his upper chest was on the pillows before slowly dragging his fingers in and out, pushing just next to his sweet spot until Sirius quaked with the effort of suppressing his moans. He added a third finger a moment later and Sirius’ thighs knocked together. “Hold yourself up, baby.”

Sirius pulled his elbows in once again, supporting his chest as Remus added a few new hickeys to his thigh and stretched him slow and deep. He gave his wrist a twist when he moved to the right side and Sirius dipped for half a second, one leg threatening to give out.

“Hold yourself up,” Remus reminded him, wrapping an arm around his lower belly and lifting slightly; Sirius’ breath caught and his shoulders folded in a bit. “You okay?”

“Ouais.”

“Alright. Two minutes left.” He pushed his fingers in further and felt the ripple of pleasure roll through Sirius under his mouth, then kissed the middle of his back. “Like that?”

“Uh-huh.” Sirius’ voice was tight with pleasure and wavered with swallowed moans.

Remus flexed his fingers and brushed against his prostate; Sirius nearly collapsed onto the bed and a whining noise was half-muffled by the sheets. “What was that?”

“ ‘s nothing, ‘s nothing, keep going.” Sirius tried to get to his elbows again, but even though Remus had stopped moving, he seemed to be having trouble. “Sweetheart, please.”

“You know the rules, baby. Five more minutes.”

“I can’t—I can’t—”

“You will.” Remus rubbed Sirius’ side to soothe him, but didn’t take his fingers out. “How about this: if you can hold yourself up and make no noises for two full minutes, I’ll fuck you and you can come whenever you want. Sound good?”

Sirius nodded frantically and struggled to get his knees under himself. “D’accord.”

“Time starts…now.” Remus kept his eyes on the clock as he plucked at Sirius’ seams, spreading his thighs to get a better angle when it looked like he was starting to relax into the feeling. One minute left. Something that would have been a moan if Sirius had a little less willpower lodged in his chest and he tensed around Remus, legs shaking with arousal. He was damn near dripping onto the sheets.

Forty-five seconds. Remus bit his lip and ran his free hand up Sirius’ thigh, digging into the bruises just enough to get his attention. “You look so pretty with these,” he murmured, leaving a trail of small bites down his spine. “It must have been hard finding thigh highs that fit, huh? You’re so strong, so beautiful, and I love that about you.” He made sure to run over Sirius’ sweet spot on every drag until his breaths got shallower and his dick twitched. Twenty seconds. “You don’t really want to come right away, do you? You like it when I take control. You like being tied down and edged until you’re a mess. Ten seconds left, baby.”

Sirius’ back bowed as Remus’ hand brushed his dick. “Pas juste,” he blurted, then groaned when Remus paused. “Fuck.”

“Was that a sound?”

“No, no it wasn’t.” He pushed back against Remus’ hand and whined when he pulled his fingers out. “Re, I only had five seconds left.”

“Bummer, isn’t it?” Remus said with mock-pity, rubbing wide circles along Sirius’ ass and thighs.

“One more chance?”

“We had a deal, love. Two minutes, no sounds, no falling. You did so well and then you tripped at the finish line.”

“You touched my dick.”

“Was that against the rules?”

Sirius huffed and glared over his shoulder, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the pink of his cheeks and the pleading look in his eye. “It was in my head.”

Remus made a sympathetic noise. “It’s a shame you’re not in charge today, then. Chest down.”

“I want to see you.”

“Later. Down.” Sirius rolled his eyes, but complied so his back sloped in a gentle curve; Remus smacked his thigh lightly. “Don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“Oops.”

“Apologize.” When he stayed silent, Remus slid two fingers back into him. “Sirius, apologize or I’ll get you off by fingering you.”

“I’m sor—sorry.” His hips jerked as Remus pushed on his prostate one last time.

“That wasn’t so hard, huh?” He pulled his own underwear down and tossed it to the side, reaching down to push Sirius’ thighs apart while he lubed up. “Don’t hold back, baby, you can be loud now.”

“Oh thank God,” Sirius breathed, shuddering a bit as Remus pressed in and began to move. “Oh—oh, oh fuck.”

“Color?”

“Fuck—green.” He gripped the poor necktie and twisted it in his hands while the pace made his knees slip. Remus put his arm around Sirius’ midsection once again while the other hand splayed on his back and held him down into the pillows.

The thigh highs began to bunch from all the movement and Remus slowed, reaching down to adjust them while Sirius clenched and unclenched his hands, mumbling out a string of pleas in English and French alike. Remus stilled for a moment and kissed the side of his neck as he relished in the heat.

“Move,” Sirius moaned, pushing back weakly. “Please, please move.”

“I love you so much,” Remus said into his sweat-slick skin as he started again, angling up on each thrust as he lifted Sirius’ hips into the right spot. “I do, baby. And I can’t wait to have two whole days to ourselves so I can admire those pretty bruises all over you.”

“Lemme—lemme see you. S’il vous plait, mon amour, I wanna see you.”

“Alright, shhh.” Remus combed a hand through his hair and untied his wrists; they were a bit pink from all the pulling, but otherwise looked fine. He gently pushed on Sirius’ shoulder so he could roll over and was met with glassy silver eyes and lips bitten so red they almost matched his socks. “Bonjour. Do you want me to tie you up?”

“Non.” Sirius smiled and pulled him down for a slow kiss, and Remus could feel his heartbeat hammering against his shoulder. “Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime,” he murmured back as he lined himself up again. Sirius’ eyes fell shut with a moan when Remus pushed in and he inhaled deeply, winding one leg with Remus’ and letting the other splay to the side.

“There, there, there,” he pleaded, grasping for a hold on Remus’ arms as his eyes flickered between open and shut. “Oh, fuck, je veux—je veux—”

“Do you think you deserve to come?” Sirius made a conflicted noise and pressed his knee into Remus’ thigh, only for Remus to pull it straight once more; the sock rolled down with each rocking movement. “Sirius, look at me. Do you want to come?”

It took a moment before Sirius made eye contact with him and nodded, struggling to get enough breath to speak. “Yes.”

“You were so rude earlier, but I did make you wait a long time.” Remus thought for a second, but didn’t slow his brutal pace that made Sirius turn his face into the pillows. “Can you come like this?”

“Touch me—touch me please—”

Remus lifted his lower back up and ran his teeth along Sirius’ pulse point, then wrapped a hand around his dick and jerked him quick and tight until high, incoherent sounds slipped through his lips. “Now.”

Sirius nearly kicked him in the shin as he arched his back, mouth falling open, moans muffled in the hollow of Remus’ throat. He babbled some string of whimpered words, caught between pushing Remus away and pulling him closer until their warm skin pressed across his entire front and his knees bumped together over the small of Remus’ back.

Remus followed him a moment later, sliding his mouth along Sirius’ collarbone before he came so hard his arms shook with it. A soft hand trailing through his hair brought him back to earth, though Sirius still looked dazed and shuddered every few seconds as Remus stroked a hand down his cheek and slid the thigh-highs back up with the other. “Shh, mon amour. Ça va, chérie, respire. Je t’aime tellement. ”

Sirius smiled and kissed him again, holding him close and warm as he pulled out. “I love it when you speak French,” he murmured. “Si beau.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Their quiet laughter buzzed against his chest and he littered Sirius’ face with kisses until his silver eyes cleared. “Are your wrists alright?”

With a heavy sigh, he let go of Remus and held them up. “All good.”

He kissed those, too, for good measure. “And the rest of you?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “I think you achieved your goal.”

“Which one?”

“There is no way I’m going to be able to walk straight.”

Remus hid his laughter in Sirius’ neck and rolled to the side, gathering him into his arms. “It’s a good thing we have all weekend, then.” He checked the clock and sighed. “I should make dinner soon.”

“No.”

“No? I’m not allowed to make us food?”

“Nope.”

“But that’s my present for you.”

“Your present to me is currently on my thighs and won’t disappear in half an hour.” He felt Sirius smile and nuzzle closer, then gentle pressure on his neck.

“What are you doing?”

“Payback.” Sirius rolled him onto his back and began speckling his neck and shoulders with small love bites, outlining his ribs with featherlight touches. Remus reached down and snapped the edge of his thigh high. “Hey!”

He grinned. “Couldn’t resist. You’re going to keep these, right?”

“Duh.” Sirius wound their legs together and cuddled into Remus’ side. “Mmm, you are so warm.”

Remus wrapped both arms around him and kissed the top of his head, closing his eyes. Naptime sounded good. Naptime, then dinner, then back to bed for more snuggles, or maybe something more. It was Valentine’s Day, after all.

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

The Next Morning

The first thing Sirius saw when he woke up was gray. The second was Remus’ shocked face, followed by an ‘oh, fuck’.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, propping himself on his elbows with a wince. His backside ached from yesterday’s activities, and his thighs were still incredibly sensitive—he noted that the matching rings of hickeys had not diminished much overnight with a sense of satisfaction. Remus was staring down at his phone as rain drizzled softly outside.

Wait. Rain.

Silently, Remus passed him the phone. Sirius squinted at the screen, blinking the drowsiness out of his eyes, then froze.

Hello team,

Due to improved weather conditions and snow melt, practice today has been rescheduled for 4 pm. Thank you for your flexibility.

Best,

A. Weasley

“Oh, fuck.”

[imaginationjunkie]

Say the word

Jason Todd x Reader

It’s kinda heartwarming

I tried to control my fast breaths, lifting my head from the crook of Jason’s neck to give him a lazy kiss. Deliriousness coursed through our veins, minds hazy from the aftermath bliss of an intimate climax.

Being apart for weeks for his mission and my conference clearly had one gigantic perk- the mad intense I-missed-you-so-fucking-much sex.

It doesn’t matter if it was the first or the thousandth time, the feeling of his body against mine never failed to weaken my limbs to mush and warm my heart, like it’s soup being heated up on a stove.

A smile split my lips as I tried lifting my naked body up from his chest, and failing. The thick, muscular arms that were tightly wrapped around my waist stopped me from doing so. It made me smile wider and lean down to put my lips on Jason’s.

“You know you’re gonna have to stop doing that right?” I murmured, running my fingers through his dark raven locks. A chaste kiss was placed on my cheek by his smirking lips.

“Hmm? Doing what?”

I leaned down so that our bare chests pressed against each other, lips hovering over his. My whisper was naughty as I answered him.

“Why should I? We both seem to like it so very much,” Jason nuzzled his nose against mine with a mischievous smirk.

“Because if by any chance I get preggers before marriage, my parents will chase you to the ends of the earth and decapitate the crap out of you,” I whispered jokingly, but meant every word. “And then after they’re done with you, they’ll feed me to the demons.”

My ever-so-daring boyfriend’s reply was to lowly chuckle and simply kiss my shoulder. 

Affection came naturally to us now, especially since Jason had been touch starved practically since birth. The first few months of our relationship, I had to have a mental debate every time before touching him; how far I should go with the cuddling, to hold his hand or not, put my legs on his body while cuddling or not...

Unlike his brother Dick, who much to Jason’s irritation loved pulling me into a tight hug every time we met, Jason just wasn’t the affectionate type.

After a few months, I understood how badly he needed to be touched- to be loved, to be comforted. When he got the message that it’s okay to hold me as much as he wants, that there’s finally someone he can lose himself in, someone he can love, he found a way to touch me every spare moment we spent together. Kissing my neck, nuzzling his nose, holding my hips, putting his large hand on the small of my back or around my waist, constantly lifting me onto his lap- the list’s never ending.

“I’m serious, a child out of wedlock is beyond just a sinful taboo in my family,” I booped his nose, leaning my forearms on his chest to hold my upper body up.

Jason pretended to be lost in thought for a while before suddenly rolling our bodies over to our sides, the ridges and sinewy muscles of his defined chest flush against my back. He tucked the messy portion of my hair out of the way before kissing from my neck up to the back of my ear. 

“Well since marriage is out of the question, I’ve no option than to not make my pull out game weak,” his tongue darted out to lick my ear teasingly.

Ignoring the pang that hit my heart at his statement about marriage, I turned to swat his chest teasingly. My lips were unable to hold back a grin at his reference to WAP .

“What? You’re the one who keeps dancing to it every morning,” Jason grinned back at me.

“It’s 4 am, we should sleep,” I shook my head at him, turning to face forward again. Jason and my shared bedroom turned dark as he flicked the dim bedside lamp off, making the glow of moonlight our only source of light.

The warmth from having his arms encased around me brought a serene feeling, making me think about how impossible it’d be to live without Jason Todd. 

“I love you,” he murmured against my neck.

My eyes closed shut, senses overwhelmed with the depth of my feelings.

“I love you,” I whispered back.

I had an amazing life- loving and supporting, albeit sometimes overbearing, parents, a great job, a pretty apartment, and a man I’m certain I’d love and be loved by for the rest of my life. For the entirety of my existence, I’ve had the one thing Jason never did- stability. 

But when it’s meant to be, it’ll always be. 

God, fate or whatever higher force is up there looking over us made sure to let our souls find each other. Cherish each other. 

I knew Jason’s views on marriage and children. It was hard enough for him to indulge himself with something as normal as a committed relationship, that too for two and a half years; but it’d actually be impossible for him to be a husband, a father. He didn’t have a basic job in the least, and thus didn’t think tying the knot and being a family man would be suitable for him. 

Ever since I was a little girl, one of the things I’ve wanted greatly was to be married to the man I loved someday. But for Jason I could give it up. I could give up the hopes of having a ring on my finger and a baby on my belly, because he means more to me than anything ever will.

¡ ¡ ¡ ¡ ¡ ¡ ¡ ¡ ¡

*2 months later, New Year’s eve night at the Wayne Manor backyard*

“Damian, those aren’t fireworks, they’re explosives!”

At my alarmed exclaim, Dick quickly snatched the big box from his younger brother’s hands, waddling his finger as if to say ‘no no’.

“They’re fireworks,”  Jason assured from behind. “The kid and I labelled it explosives so Dick doesn’t steal it,”

Dick’s face scrunched up in confusion, “”Why would I steal your fireworks? I’ve better things to do for fu-”

“Miss, the barbecue is ready. Would you like to add the last bit of sauce on top?” The always-polite and everyone’s favorite Alfred smartly interrupted Dick from saying the curse word.

Every time I practically forced my boyfriend, his brothers and father into having a family night, Alfred let me help with the food; and since I suck beyond words at cooking, he always gave me the easy tasks to do.

Now if you’re thinking that prevented me from considering myself as the world’s second Martha Stewart, you’re wrong.

I clapped my hands together in delight, “I’d love to!”

“No she wouldn’t,” Jason, Dick and Tim said at the same time.

I turned to them, perplexed at their concurrent interference. 

Taking note of the unusual shiftiness in the boys’ stances, I raised a brow- “And why is that?”

Out of the three suspicious-looking brothers, Dick replied- “Because there’s only 20 minutes till midnight and you have to help us set the fireworks off!”

Now both my eyebrows rose, and I crossed my arms against my chest.

“So you’re telling me,” I said in slow amusement, dragging the words sarcastically. “That three of the strongest night vigilantes of Gotham, one being a violent nutcase once,” a look was thrown in Jason’s direction, “Needs an ordinary girl to set off fireworks?”

This time Tim responded, “Well you see, we’ve never set them off. None of us has ever had the chance to have a normal new years with fireworks and a countdown,”

“Really?” I deadpanned, voice turning into a shrill by the end of the question, “So have I been planning and working my ass off every new year’s for the past three years to make robots happy?”

Tim realized his mistake, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head before trying to redeem himself. “But we’ve never had a family new years, y’know, with the barbecue and fireworks,”

“Also, you’re nowhere near ordinary,” Jason added in a low voice as he came to stand behind me and kissed my temple. I rolled my eyes at the cheesiness, wrapping an arm around the middle of both the boys’ backs.

Right then Damian piped in, surprising everyone. “Plus you’re not a girl, you’re a woman,” he emphasized on the last word, making Jason scoff with a smirk and everyone else laugh.

It didn’t take long for me to grow on Damian, making him accept and like me. From what I heard from his brothers and Alfred, he didn’t like most people and never went easy on newcomers. I was especially concerned about getting Jason’s family to like me, since he didn’t have much of a good relationship with them and I wanted to change that. In the end everyone ended up accepting me; and gradually even treating me as one of their own. Dick and I were practically best friends.

Despite what he used to say, I knew Jason loved them all like they were his own blood; so I knew that it meant a great deal to him to rekindle his relationships with them.

Bruce Wayne’s voice spoke for the first time that evening, “Good evening, my apologies for the delay,”

An awkward silence took over our so-far cozy night. All of the boys looked other directions, not acknowledging their dad who never bothered to show up to any family days on time. I tried my best to knit the boys together, help them get close and create a bond; and saying that I succeeded wouldn’t be a lie. But the fact that Bruce couldn’t even take one day off from his billionaire/ vigilante duties sort of upset me every time.

Jason scoffed, his mouth opening to say something undoubtedly snarky to his father. But before he had the chance to I stepped on his shoe and gripped his hand tightly, silencing him.

“It’s okay Bruce, at least you made it,” I smiled.

The excruciatingly tense atmosphere was cracked by Dick, “I still need help with the fireworks, anyone up for it?”

“I’ll come!” I was quick to squeak and walk towards him.

“Me too,” Damian grumbled, following me.

Tim was the last one. “Yeah, me as well.”

“Great, so you guys do the fireworks and Jaybird and I will be right back!” Dick clapped his hands together in perky delight, pushing Jason’s back forward as they walked into the manor. From the distance, I saw Jason shrug Dick’s hand off before glaring at him. Again, confusion filled me at their strange behavior tonight.

“What was that about?” I asked Tim.

He smiled, “Nothing, probably just vigilante stuff.”

As the minutes passed by, the new year came nearer and nearer. The three of us successfully managed to set off the first batch of fireworks, looking up at the sky and laughing freely. Even Bruce had a small smile as he took a sip of his drink, looking up and the lit up sky with a hand in his pocket.

When it was about 10 minutes to the clock ticking 12:00 am, worry started to cloud the excitement I was feeling; but Tim and Damian were quick to distract it.

“Now can we do the grand purple one?” Damian gave me a rare pleading look.

“Yeah we can, but where’re Jason and Dick? They’re gonna miss new year’s,” I voiced my concern. 

Right then, my phone started ringing. 

Incoming video call from mom.

I answered, knowing that my parents were calling to say Happy New Year like they did every year. What rendered me surprised after receiving the call was that almost my entire family was on the frame of my mom’ video- two of my aunts, uncles and all the cousins I’m close to. Which are a lot.

I’m a family person, if you couldn’t tell already.

“Hi baby!” My mom grinned.

I grinned back, glee taking over the initial confusion.“Hey y’all! Are you having a New Years party without me?”

One of my younger cousins replied, “Sort of, now show us!”

My brows furrowed, “Show you what?”

A string of ‘oh shit’s sounded from mom’s side, further increasing my confusion.

Out of the blue, Dick intervened from behind me, “The fireworks of course!”

A sudden bang! took us all by surprise, and I looked up to see the huge purple fireworks lighting the dark canvas of the sky up. A wide grin split my lips, along with all the other boys as they whooped at the different shades of purple. It happened to be my favorite color. 

I felt the familiar warmth of Jason’s body against my back before hearing or seeing him. The digital clock on the top corner of my phone read 11:55 pm. Not being able to contain my excitement, I subconsciously shoved my phone to Tim, who was beside me, while my family was still on video. I raised a hand to point at the sky.

“Jay look, it’s all so purple!”

And then something happened. Something I wouldn’t even dream of imagining.

Jason’s larger hand rose to the level of mine, which was still pointing up at the sky. He spread my fingers out so that my hand was displayed open. I turned to look at my boyfriend, not quite understanding his intentions.

His eyes were trained on mine, a golden and purple reflection from the fireworks and balcony lights visible on the glossy blue orbs. 

Our eyes stayed on each other’s as I felt something cold graze the top of my ring finger.

In the background I heard Dick harshly whisper, “Tim, the song!”

I wasn’t dumb. I knew what my boyfriend was holding on top of that finger.

Jason’s lips were an inch away from my ear as he spoke clearly, not a hint of hesitation in his voice, “Just say the word, and I’ll put a ring on you.” 

I couldn’t even look at it as I tried to get over the giant bucket of emotions that was thrown over me. Shock, flabbergast, sheer happiness, disbelief, excitement, a rush of adrenaline. My heart threatened to beat the crap out of my chest.

“Jason,” I whispered, my eyes fluttering shut as he put his chin on my shoulder, inches from mine. “What. Are. You. Doing??”

He bit his lip, smiling before cryptically answering. “I love you.”

“I thought you didn’t want to get married?” I questioned again. “Do you think I’m pregnant? Are you doing this cause-?” my voice was breathy.

Jason smirked, his unoccupied arm going round me from behind to rest on the other side of my waist. “No baby, I don’t. The twenty something negative pregnancy sticks on the bathroom trash sort of made it clear that you aren’t pregnant.”

I couldn’t hold back my own grin from his teasing. For the first time, I turned my head to look at our hands. The sky was phenomenal in the background of them, a swirl of blue, red and purple as Damian and Dick continued setting the fireworks off. Tim was holding my phone up to where Jason and I were standing, undoubtedly showing the scene to my family. Now I knew why they were all gathered together to call me.

“You asked my parents?”

Jay rubbed his nose on my cheek, his smart-assery coming to action as he quoted my words from that night two months ago- “Of course, wouldn’t wanna be chased to the end of the earth and be decapitated the crap out of now, would I?”

The boys all had blinding bright and hopeful grins on their faces; even Damian! Alfred’s expression could only be described with one adjective- delight, and Bruce had an odd smile as he saw the straight-out-of-a-movie scene unfold.

I turned my head to the side to look at Jason again, grin faltering to a small smile.

This time nervousness coated his expression and words as he asked once again, “Will you marry me?“

I heard my mom speak through the phone, “Oh come on, stop torturing the poor boy! Answer already!“

Taking a deep breath, I leaned my head even closer to Jason’s. His blue eyes pierced into mine with their intensity, and my lips touched his as I said the word softly. 

“Yes.”

[jeongjaebae]

Love Station

⇢ Jaehyun x reader | AO3

⇢ 7k of fluff, heart fluttering moments, and meme references

⇢  You never expected anything good to come out of a train delay, much less for it to play cupid on this Valentine’s Day. 

Turning 23 wasn't something you were overly excited about.

Nothing good could come out of being this age anyway—you were starting to feel old and life was starting to feel stagnant. Besides, everyone's seen the meme about checking up on your friends born in a certain year because no one likes you when you're 23. But heck, you'd already felt that way for long enough so it doesn't really matter that it's your birthday today because no one liked you at 22 either. Or at any age.

Maybe that's why you're still single on this Valentine's Day, which coincidentally happens to be the date you enter your 23rd year since birth. Whatever deity that's up there probably planned this to give you a headache every year, making you watch couples all around you broadcast their PDA everywhere while you only became one year closer to growing old and wrinkly. And dying single.

"Are you on the train yet?" Yoojin's loud voice comes through the phone. "Also what are you wearing, because I'm having an outfit dilemma again."

"Almost at the station," you reply, checking the time for the sake of it. You knew your best friend would be late regardless of the occasion, so you never had to rush. "I didn't expect it to be so cold out here. Wearing the pink blouse with the bow, that black skirt, and some thin tights. Long coat of course."

Yoojin was your best friend of seven years and happened to be the complete opposite of you. While you were generally shy, she had no qualms about talking to strangers. She'd always been bold and unabashed with her opinions, attracting quite a large group of friends and enemies alike, whereas you have always stayed within your comfort zone of invisibility. And whereas you were completely dense and unlucky when it came to boys, she had a list of them long enough for the both of you.

"Tell me you at least have some tall boots on," she replies with some rustling sounds in the background as she probably flips her entire closet upside-down. "You should've gone with a warmer outfit; there won't be any boys around for you to impress! It's only your date with boring old me."

You roll your eyes and play along. "I'm dressing to impress the cute waiter, obviously," you say, "the one with the super sweet smile who looks like NCT's Doyoung." It's all made up, of course. In reality the two of you didn't have a reservation or even a restaurant in mind yet, and of course, there's obviously nobody who could ever be as cute as Doyoung.

Your best friend was all about being spontaneous and winging it, and even letting fate decide things.

"Oh you better hope that he's not out with his girlfriend tonight then," she singsongs. "Anyway, I'll go pick out an outfit now and bring a pair of leggings for you or something. Oh and before I forget, happy birthday!"

"Thanks," you say with a smile as you approach the train station. "I'll see you soon!"

It's slightly more crowded at the station than the emptiness that usually greets you at this hour, but that's not surprising since it's Valentine's Day after all, and people would have plans in the city. And just as you would expect, there are people holding big bouquets wrapped in a special paper with hearts all over it, packs of chocolates in pink and red boxes, and delicate single roses encompassed in beautiful ribbons.

It wasn't something that you felt like you were missing out on. You've never spent Valentine's Day with someone special anyway; it was always some sort of birthday celebration with friends. Until your friends started getting into relationships and then the birthday thing got pushed to different days. Either way you didn't mind because people don't need particular days to show their love for others, so Valentine's Day was all just a big marketing scam.

Or so you tell yourself.

The February air is cold and makes it hard to pry your transit card out from your wallet with your frozen fingers. When the machine nearby is finally free, that's when you go to tap your card.

"Don't."

A hand slides right in between your card and the machine, blocking it from being detected.

"Excuse me?" you automatically respond.

The first thing you notice about this annoying stranger is that he's tall, as it takes a while for you to look up to see the face of said annoying stranger. The second thing is that he's incredibly good looking. Nice skin, large eyes, and some evidence of dimples slightly visible on each cheek. A strong jaw line and sharp gaze.

But none of that matters because he better have a good explanation for you.

"Don't waste your money tapping your card. The train's been delayed and won't come until maybe an hour later."

"What? An hour? Is this some kind of joke?"

He shakes his head. "There was an announcement a few minutes ago but they'll probably repeat it soon."

"But it's not even April Fools Day," you mutter under your breath, but proceed to put your card away anyway. "Are you serious?"

That earns you a funny look from the annoying stranger, a mixture of a smile and a grimace of sorts. "Yeah, I'm really just going to go up to strangers and prank them by telling them about a train delay."

"Well, maybe if you're one of those YouTubers who go around pranking people for reactions?"

He rolls his eyes. "No, but your reaction was terrible, by the way. A two out of ten at most."

"Hey, you're the one who had to break the news to me like that!"

The corner of his mouth twitches but before he says anything back, the blare of the announcement comes on.

"Attention all passengers! Attention all passengers. The line 1 eastbound train is experiencing delays due to a technical issue on the tracks. It may be over an hour before the track can get cleared. Once again, the eastbound train is currently experiencing delays of an hour or more. We are sorry for the inconvenience."

"And there it is. Do you believe me now?" the annoying stranger asks, raising an eyebrow at you. It's not so much of an 'I told you so', but rather a sad 'welcome to the club'.

"Yeah... sorry for not taking you seriously."

"Nah, no worries," he shrugs and gives you a quick smile. The first you'd seen from him. "We're all just stuck here now."

When he turns to look at the announcement board, that's when you take the chance to really study him. He's dressed like he's walked out of a Korean drama: turtleneck and a nice formal jacket. He looks to be about your age, maybe a university student or fresh grad. Hair gelled up and parted at the side. Perfectly dressed to go on the perfect Valentine's Day date with his perfectly stunning girlfriend.

As perfect as it can be with this whole train delay issue anyway.

You follow his gaze to the announcement board and see that it now has red words everywhere, indicating all the delays of the trains. It definitely wasn't looking good. Even if Valentine's Day was nowhere close to being one of your favourite holidays, you were looking forward to at least seeing a friend on your birthday.

"Yeah, I guess so. On the one day I had plans in the city." You sigh at the thought that seeing your best friend might not be possible anymore.

 "I know the feeling," he frowns, somehow still looking just as good as before which is entirely a mystery to you, "I'm also supposed to be in the city tonight."

You nod, then pull out your phone to shoot Yoojin a quick text about the delay. The cold wind sears your hands and you yet again regret wearing so little when you knew this train station didn't have an indoor waiting area.  

"So, what are our options for getting out of here now? Do you think the buses are still running because we could probably take one?" he suggests.

The 'we' takes you by surprise, but then you realize that he's probably talking about everyone here. All of the ten or so people that are just stuck at this station in the cold for the next hour.

You grimace at the thought of dissipating his ounce of hope. "Well, the nearest bus station is all the way across town, so by the time we get there maybe the trains will have already started working."

The handsome stranger sighs. "Maybe an Uber then?"

"It'll be rush hour soon so that only works if you want to be going during the most expensive time of day using the most expensive form of transportation."

"Ah, that's true." He looks disappointed. "Hmm, if the trains don't come by the next hour, maybe I'll just head to the bus stop."

Oh how nice it would be to have a car to get there yourself.

Buzz. The phone vibrates in your pocket and you could already imagine how Yoojin would be reacting to your news. Hopefully she hadn't already started on her crazy makeup routine yet, because who knows if your meet-up could actually happen at this rate.

"It's chill, don't worry about it! I'll head to you instead. Text you when I'm near."

Sometimes Yoojin's spontaneity was just what you needed. You message her a quick thanks and then shove the phone into your pocket before your fingers freeze off.

It's quiet for a bit and you almost forget about the handsome stranger entirely until there's a crinkling sound and you find yourself staring at the rose in the pocket of his coat, the clear foil around it blowing gently in the wind. It was on the side facing away from you earlier, which is probably how you didn't notice upon first glance.

Of course, he has a girlfriend. With a face like that, who wouldn't have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend. Maybe even multiple.

"Special occasions, right?" The corners of his lips are curled as if holding back a grin, and like this his dimples are visible.

But why was he still talking to you? You figured he was probably just trying to be friendly seeing as the two of you would be stuck here for an indefinite amount of time. Maybe you'll even become all buddy-buddy by the time this ordeal finishes. While you weren't a fan of small talk or talking to strangers, it was nice to be able to have someone by your side who was experiencing the same struggles.

And besides, he clearly has a girlfriend so there was no point in writing that "strangers to lovers" fan fiction in your head.

You clear your throat. "So... Valentine's date with your girlfriend?"

"Valentine's—" he pauses for a second and you can almost see the gears turning in his head. "Right, it's Valentine's Day today. Nah, I'm celebrating my birthday instead." Then he holds up the rose up and glances at it as if he'd also forgotten about it. "And no girlfriend. This is for my cousin. Her boyfriend's overseas so it's hard for them to meet up, so I thought I would get something nice for her and keep her company."

That actually takes you off guard and causes you to replay the words in your mind to make sure you heard correctly.

"Wait, it's your birthday today? Really?"

He gives you a strange look. "Yeah, there are actually people born on Valentine's Day, believe it or not."

"That's not what I meant—"

"I'm just kidding." His eyes twinkle in amusement. "It's also your birthday today, isn't it?"

"What—how did you know?"

He chuckles. "Your reaction said everything."

"Wow, someone is a smartie."

"What about you? Valentine's or birthday date with your boyfriend?"

"Best friend," you correct him. "And yeah, it's a birthday dinner."

"That's nice. I've actually never met anyone else with a Valentine's Day birthday."

"Honestly, same."

His eyes curve up into crescents as he smiles with his entire body, and it's dazzling and is so bright that it makes you want to stare for just a moment longer. The two of you laugh for a while at that coincidence, still amazed.

"So, how old are you turning?"

You groan, "The age where no one likes you."

"Ah, I just passed that." He wrinkles his nose as if remembering how terrible a year it was. "But hey, can't have no one liking you at that age if no one liked you anyway."

His words immediately put an image of that roll safe meme into your head and you find yourself laughing.

"Wow, those are my thoughts exactly."

The handsome stranger only gives you an innocent shrug. His meme game was on point, and that almost makes your heart flutter for a second. Almost.

Another cold breeze whips your hair into your face and blows straight through your thin tights, making you shiver.

"Hey, um, I hope this isn't too forward... but since we're stuck here anyways for the next while, do you want to possibly go hang out in town?" He bites his lips a little, making his dimples stand out even more. "It just kind of sucks to see our birthdays go to waste like this. Only if you're comfortable with it though, but of course we'll be in public areas the entire time."

You couldn't believe your ears for the second time today.

On one hand, the logical voice in your head was screaming stranger danger because you just met him! You hadn't even exchanged more than a few sentences! On the other hand, you could already picture Yoojin telling you to never waste an opportunity, to go with the flow and live life a little recklessly. To stop waiting for a train that might never come, to stop waiting for perfectly planned moments in life that might never occur.

"So, what do you think?"

Besides, if he's not some crazy serial killer or anything along those lines, the only other danger you could possibly see was getting heartbroken. But of course there's no way you'd fall for a stranger in one day; you didn't believe in love at first sight or fate or whatever other mushy romantic cliches that movies love to portray. This would merely be a fun time between two people who happened to be stuck together because of a train delay, on a day that happened to be both of their birthdays. A simple coincidence, really.

"You know what," you smile. "Screw it. Let's go."

***

The smell of the arcade brings back memories from when you were a child—friends' birthday parties, hangouts in middle school, the occasional school trip. It had been fun as a child even though you hadn't been very good at any of the games and probably never won anything worth keeping. Looking back, you hadn't set foot in this place in years.

"We'll get the one with the most tokens," the handsome stranger—Jaehyun—says to the guy behind the counter, flashing you a smile when you raise an eyebrow at him.

Jaehyun. It had sounded so pretty when he introduced himself.

You'd been afraid that conversation would come out awkward and forced between two strangers brought together by no more than a train delay, not knowing where or when or how to start. But there was actually never a dull moment between the flow of words and laughter that made you feel as if he was someone you've known for a long time. The short walk to the arcade had been spent on reminiscing and comparing past memories of growing up in this town, brainstorming fun places and cool restaurants that you'd been to or have yet to go to, pointing at familiar buildings and telling funny stories about interesting moments spent in there.

"Come on, let's go." He leads the way into the main area where all the action is.  

The arcade still looks the same as the last time you were here, though everything seems smaller than you'd remembered it. Bright lights flashing from every machine, loud noises at every corner. So many games that you'd once thought it was impossible to play through all of them.

"Let's start with this one?" You point to the zombie shooting game. It was something that you had always wanted to try as a kid out of pure curiosity, but you'd been too scared to at the time.

"That one? Really?" He raises a brow at your suggestion. "Alright, but I bet I can beat you."

"I would also bet on you winning," you respond dully.

After choosing characters and weapons on screen, the two of you settle in your seats and finally start. It's like watching a horror movie where you expect huge jump scares at every corner except there's no music build-up or anything to warn you that a zombie might just show up. Horror was definitely not your forte but maybe he was better at handling these things than you were.

You get your answer when the first wave of zombies finally show up. Jaehyun screams. You scream.

Somehow you manage to shoot some of them by pure instinct guiding you, however your aim isn't exactly good with your eyes closed half of the time. By the time the screaming dies down and you notice that both your characters had died in the zombie battle, you finally turn to see how he's doing. The way his face is twisted in a mixture of utter shock and horror would've been something to laugh at if you hadn't been just as scared.  

"If I recall, someone said they were going to beat me at this," you tease after seeing the final score. Neither of you did particularly well, though your score somehow turned out to be much higher than his.

"You should've given me a warning that it would be this scary."

You burst out laughing at his expression. "I didn't know either!"

That's when you notice how you're clinging to each other. Your hand clutching his arm, his hand right on top of yours.

"Oops, sorry," you mutter and quickly detangle yourself from him.

"It's fine," he says with a laugh. "But yeah, those zombies were next level."

Needless to say, you guys don't go back to that game.

The arcade is quite empty on this afternoon and you're glad that most of the games are unoccupied and can be played right away. Even with everything going well so far, you still have the fear of having awkward silences and uncomfortable conversation.

It's a while later when you try again at a different shooting game, though luckily this time it isn't zombies that you're dealing with, so it isn't scary at all. It's a teamwork game this time, and what surprises you the most is just how good your teamwork turns out to be.

"To your left, in the corner."

"Phew, got him. Thanks," you reply, promptly shooting the character before he could shoot you. "Watch out—right above you."

"Got it."

It lasts a few rounds but you manage to make it to the end and finally clear the game.

Jaehyun's whole face is lit up when he turns to you. "Wow, that was awesome. Great teamwork."

He holds up both his hands for you to high-five, and just as your hands meet his, you can't help but notice the way they linger together a little longer.  

Time flies as the two of you go from game to game and you're trying your best to beat him at any game possible. While he does let you win some of the time, more often than not, he ends up winning. Though it's not like you could be upset about it at all when he looked so happy after each win, excitedly showing you his score or prize. It was definitely nice to be as carefree as kids again.

Yet there was something deeper with the adrenaline coursing through your veins and heart racing that it becomes hard to tell whether it may be from the excitement of the games, the warmth of his body right beside you as he patiently teaches you his strategies for winning, the bright smiles that seem to light up his whole face, or those damn dimples.

Why did this Valentine's boy have to be not only heartbreakingly handsome but also incredibly kind and considerate?

"Hey, you want to try one of those?" The sound of Jaehyun's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you silently pray that you hadn't been staring at him subconsciously. And if you had been staring, hopefully he didn't notice as he's pointing to the line of game stands at the side where the games are always rigged and you can never win big prizes.

"I've never won anything from there before, so I sure hope you're good at those."

He ends up picking a dart game out of all the options, but maybe this one would be easier than the rest.

The man at the dart stand greets you and explains the rules. "Are you trying to win something for your girlfriend?"

"Oh, we're not—" you start but stop as soon as you hear what Jaehyun says instead.

"It's Valentine's Day after all," he says easily then follows with a wink at you.

He didn't deny...?

It's three shots dead center to win one of the biggest prizes or five within the smallest ring. It makes your heart pound a little faster seeing Jaehyun so focused with his nice stance, sleeves rolled up slightly, and intense eyes on the target. However, he misses on the first shot with his dart going off the board.

"Well that's no fun," the man says, frowning at where the dart landed. "I suppose I could give you another chance, since it's Valentine's Day and all. Wouldn't want to end up empty handed, right?" He laughs to himself but puts the dart back in Jaehyun's hand.

"Thank you," he says, flustered judging by the hint of a blush that sweeps his cheeks. "I'm not usually this bad."

"It's okay! You're doing great, sweetie," you joke.

He rolls his eyes at you despite the way his lips curl up at the corners, then gets ready to throw the dart again. And this time? You're sure your jaw is to the floor when he manages to get all three darts to hit the board dead center. The man congratulates him for winning and then they disappear into the back room to pick a prize. Jaehyun later comes out holding the biggest dog plushie you've ever seen.

Once you're back outside after the arcade adventure, that's when he stops and turns to you.

"I wasn't sure what you'd like but I hope this is okay," he says quietly, gingerly handing you the giant plushie.

"It's great, Jaehyun." You meet his gaze as you take the plushie and he quickly looks away. "Thank you."

"You know, I'm really glad we ended up doing this. It's even better than what I had planned originally." Then he adds more quietly, "One of the best birthdays I've had in a while."  

"Yeah," you smile. "Me too."

It's only then when you realize that Yoojin and the rest of your plans had totally slipped your mind.

***

It's chilly outside as the two of you walk around town. Valentine's Day decorations were everywhere, with the chalkboard menus of local restaurants featuring couple meal sets with tons of hearts drawn around them, various pink and red plushies lined up on the windowsills of nearby shops, and even lamp posts on the streets covered with mini heart shaped lights. The sight of those things usually would've made you roll your eyes and pretend to puke, but somehow it doesn't seem to bother you quite so much today. It's as if you're seeing everything through a new perspective—one that might find the rosy decorations pretty and one that might understand the hype of such a holiday.

"Y/N," Jaehyun suddenly says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his side. Before you could even react, he's quickly switching positions with you so that you're sheltered between him and the wall of the nearby building.

Then he's turning to you. Hand on the wall behind your head, body leaning towards you.

So close that you could see the individual eyelashes framing his eyes.

But in the next instant he's looking behind him where a car drives by and splashes up a large amount of water from the melting snow on the side of the street. Which lands right where you were standing just a moment ago.

Jaehyun turns back to you, eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "Um, are you?"

"That's good." He glances behind him and then reassures you with a quick smile. "And yeah, all good."

"It was a close call. Thanks for saving me."

"Wouldn't want your clothes to be ruined by that." He laughs. "How are you doing though? It's pretty cold out here."

"I'm okay," you automatically reply.

That earns you a skeptical look. "Your cheeks are all red. Come on, let's go warm up somewhere."

When you resume walking, he's taking the outer edge of the sidewalk.

A couple of blocks later is when you find out that the place he had in mind turns out to be the local coffee shop. You'd never been there before but had always thought of it as a cute place when you pass by it, so when you enter, the interior definitely matches up to your expectations. It has a rustic theme with warm glow from fairy lights hanging from the ceiling and there's soft music playing in the background, a nice place to study if it's as empty as today.

Jaehyun buys you your drink. Kind of.

"I bought one, but they gave me one for free," he says, beaming when he comes back to the table with the drinks—a coffee for him and a latte with a cute little heart floating in it for you. "Maybe the barista was charmed by my smile."

"Hmm." You look behind him to see a sign at the front of the store saying, 'Buy one get one free—Valentine's Day special'. "Are you sure it wasn't because of my charming smile?"

"You're right, that could be it. You are quite cute."

"Exactly."

Wait, what did he just say?

You do a double take but he's merely staring back at you with dimples just barely visible and eyes sparkling through thick eyelashes that you could only wish yours looked like.

Suddenly it feels like the heater's on extra high in this cafe or maybe it was the way the latte burns your tongue as you take a big gulp. Whatever it was, it definitely succeeds in warming you up a little too well, especially your face.

"You okay? Don't burn yourself," he says, the amusement in his eyes betraying the concern in his voice.

You nearly spit your drink out at him. "Nah, no burn. I'm good, thanks," you say dryly.

Time seems to slow down as you relax in your seat, body finally warming up in the coziness of the cafe. The small corner you're in almost feels like a liminal space; such a transient place you'd only ever noticed while passing by, yet a whole different world on the inside where one can hide forever. Perhaps you wanted to hide here, to enjoy the fleeting moments of a strange but amazing birthday.

Conversation ebbs and flows though you're a little surprised when Jaehyun opens up about his life. His passion for music, especially, is what picks up traction as he happens to know your favourite group, NCT. From there it becomes a debate of whether Doyoung or Taeyong was the best looking member (you insist that Doyoung's Instagram was all the proof one needed, whereas he points out that Taeyong's sharp jawline could totally cut that VVS diamonds they keep singing about). You definitely don't tell Jaehyun the fact that maybe—just maybe—he's even more attractive than your NCT biases and that he could totally be an actor from a Korean drama.

Everything you hear about him makes you appreciate his vulnerability, yet you can't help but wonder if he's so open with just anybody. You were a complete stranger, after all.

Yet every time you see the twinkle in his eyes when your gaze accidentally meets his, part of you wonders if 'strangers' no longer fits the definition of where this strange relationship was going. It leaves you with wanting to avoid looking at him which is quite difficult with him seated directly across from you. Maybe you should've sat where your plushie was, taking up its own chair between the two of you, but it's too late and now you're left to deal with the audible thud of your heart every time you make eye contact with him.

And yet when you think about it, you realize that it wasn't Jaehyun's cute dimples or his deep voice or his lame jokes that had your nerves acting up.

It was probably the caffeine.

But maybe it was the small things that you hadn't even realized you'd noticed. Earlier at the arcade when he patiently taught you the games that you were unfamiliar with, letting you win games but also winning at them himself just so he could give you the prize. Saving you from a car first then from the cold with the warmth of the cafe. Opening the door for you, sitting closer to the door to block the cold wind from reaching you.

And how despite the number of reschedules and plan cancellations you both had to make due to the train delay, he hasn't pulled his phone out a single time. You admired how in the midst of all the chaos today, he was still nothing but calm and polite the entire time and seemed to have everything under control. He was a comforting presence that made you forget about the madness of the outside world for a little while.

Nah, it had to be the caffeine.

Still, you find yourself glad to be stuck here with him, even as far as dreading when you both had to leave. You're definitely appreciating Yoojin's ability to be late right about now.

A lull in the conversation has you sneaking a glance at your phone to check up on your best friend. There's no text from her as she's either still doing her extravagant makeup or still on her way here, but for some reason you let out the breath you held in relief.

"I wonder if the trains are running now." A glance out the window shows you the remnants of sunset and the quickly darkening skies. Then you cautiously throw out the question that you'd been holding onto for a while. Something that you'd been reluctant to bring up, carefully stepping around it the whole day, and something that he hasn't talked about either. "Oh right, didn't you say you would end up taking a bus? If the delay is still going on."

Maybe it's a test to see his reaction, maybe it's to end this vague relationship before you become even more attached than you already are. Because any rational person wouldn't just throw away all their birthday plans for someone they'd just met.

"Oh. Right." Jaehyun looks down and swirls the stir stick in his drink. Clockwise, counter-clockwise, back and forth. "I, uh, actually forgot that I didn't drive here today." He shoots you a sheepish grin then runs his fingers through his hair that has deflated quite a bit since you first saw him. "So can't exactly drive over to the bus stop."

You smile back weakly. "Ah, that's okay. There's probably a ton of traffic out there now anyways."

An ambiguous answer for an equally ambiguous relationship. It could definitely be a real excuse, yet somehow the thought of that makes you almost disappointed. Maybe there are no answers to the questions and uncertainties muddled in your mind.

"But did you want to get rid of me so fast?" He actually pouts at you, as if his regular face weren't already enough to break hearts.

"What? No, of course not? I—what?" you manage to get out.

"Okay, good!" The pout immediately goes back into his regular smile. "Phew. It's sad enough being single on Valentine's Day; no need to get rejected on top of that."

Then his phone buzzes and it finally pulls it out.

"As if anyone would reject you," you mutter under your breath while he's distracted.

It's true. You might've expected Jaehyun's appearance to be making up for other areas, or maybe even hoping he'd be too rude or too blunt or have a bad character. Because the cognitive dissonance in your head wants a reason or excuse to remain distant and emotionally detached from him. But the kindness and authenticity that you saw today just leaves you without a reason, which makes it that much harder to stop yourself from liking him.

"Sorry about that; what did you say?"

"Nothing!" You plaster on a cheerful smile.

"Okay, my cousin is going to be here soon."

"Oh."

Then there's the sinking of your heart, the inevitable dread that this unexpectedly enjoyable afternoon is coming to an end. Somehow it manages to crush the anticipation you had for your birthday celebration with Yoojin.

"You know, I kind of feel bad that you paid for everything today," you say. "Let me pay you back?"

"It's fine, Y/N. We had fun and that's all that matters."

"True, but you should've at least let me buy the drinks!"

That manages to make him smile but it quickly dies as he bites his lip, suddenly hesitant. "If you really want to..."

"Yes!"

"...you could just pay next time."

What.

"Next time?" you repeat, afraid to believe what you were hearing.

"I mean, if you—maybe—want to hang out again sometime?"

You open your mouth to say something, or maybe it was already open in your state of shock. Nothing comes out as if you lost your voice.

Jaehyun briefly meets your eyes before continuing. "Well, um—I just wanted to say that I had a really good time with you today. I know the train thing was probably an inconvenience to everyone else but to be honest, I'm kind of glad that happened." He laughs a little. Stops. Bites his lip. "And yeah, if you're down, we could hang out again sometime. Because I'd love to get to know you better."

Thud.

You could only stare back at him as the roaring of your pulse becomes all you can hear. The whole day you were telling yourself that it shouldn't be possible to develop feelings for someone within a day, almost trying to hold yourself back from enjoying your time with him to the fullest in the fear that you might be wrong. And it's not like you developed crushes very easily, but here in front of you was a boy so friendly and good-natured even to a stranger he'd just met, someone who really seemed to care about you.

"Jaehyun..."

He continues, "I know it's weird meeting like this, and I don't really believe in this whole fate thing where we just happened to be stuck here and we happen to have the same birthday. All I can say is that I really enjoyed talking to you and hearing your thoughts and um, youknowyou'rereallybeautiful."

The logical inner voice had been screaming stranger danger the entire time because you didn't know him at all! You'd just met him today! Yet the small fic writer voice in your head, which definitely sounded a lot like your best friend's voice, was trying to convince you that maybe fate does exist. That if it doesn't, how likely was it that you met someone with the same birthday which happened to be Valentine's Day? That you met at exactly the right time and that the train the two of you were going to take was delayed? That you managed to have one of the best birthdays that you could recall?

Maybe sometimes you need to let go of any fears and just live life to its fullest. Let yourself feel a wide range of emotions without being afraid of getting heartbroken. Stop holding back and just be true to yourself.

It suddenly feels too hot in the cafe once again.

"Yeah," your voice comes out quiet, unsteady, but his words give you the courage to reach over to hesitantly take his hand. "Today has been amazing and I'm so thankful that you're the one I was stuck with."

His eyes flicker to yours then away. "But...?"

"There is no 'but'. Jaehyun, I'd love to see you again."

"Yeah?" He lets out a long exhale before his face visibly brightens again. "That's a relief. I didn't think you would agree, but I didn't want to have you walk out of my life just like that."

Then there isn't a need for any more words as shy smiles are exchanged and fleeting gazes meet and there's a warmth bubbling in your chest. It's as if you spent the whole day worrying over nothing. That somehow, everything worked out. That maybe it was fate, and maybe it wasn't, but the connection you thought you felt wasn't just one-sided. It was something real, something tangible.

"Jeong Jaehyun!"

The booming voice jolts the two of you out of the moment and makes you immediately spring apart.

"Did you seriously make me take the train all the way here just for you? Who is this girl because she better be real nice for you to ditch me—" The loud voice from the woman walking into the cafe stops right when her eyes land on you. She smiles sheepishly, dipping her head lightly as if apologizing for her outburst. "Never mind; forget I said anything. I approve."

"Nice to see you too, Minah," Jaehyun greets as you both stand. You can see how his face is still flushed from earlier, but now he's put on a neutral expression again and what you'd seen just a moment ago has been erased. "Don't worry, I won't make you take the train back. I'll drive you home after."

"Oh, you have the car. Bless." Minah brushes her hair back, tidying it from the effects of the wind. Then she stops suddenly and narrows her eyes at him. "Wait, why didn't you just drive over if the trains stopped working?"

"You—have the car? I thought you said you got a ride," you muse out loud.

"Oh, uh. Actually I forgot I had it since I usually get a ride here and it would've taken too long to drive there in rush hour anyway... so... yeah..." He trails off and shifts his weight from one foot to another, and it's even more evident how flushed his face is, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

You hear a snort and see Minah practically shaking with quiet laughter.

"Y/N!" The bell at the door rings again as Yoojin steps into the cafe, bringing a rush of cold air in with her. "There you are! And oh—" she stops mid-sentence when she spots you with Jaehyun, his cousin, and the massive plushie sitting in its own chair. "Minah?"

"Yoojin?"

"You guys know each other?" you ask tentatively.

"We were friends in high school!" Yoojin replies. Then gives you a questioning look. "Minah, it's been so long. We should totally catch up."

Minah nods enthusiastically, jumping up to give Yoojin a warm hug. "Totally!" Then she briefly glances at Jaehyun. "Well, I was supposed to have dinner with my little cousin over here but if you and your friend are free, then we could all go somewhere together?"

"How about we head over to that cute little diner that was our hangout spot for the longest time?" Yoojin suggests with a glance over at you and Jaehyun.

Minah squeals. "Let's do it; it'd be just like old times!"

"Actually, if you don't mind, I wanted to borrow Y/N for a bit," Jaehyun says. "We'll let you guys catch up in peace without a third and four wheel."

"Yoojin, we can always hang out another time if you want to go with Minah."

Your best friend looks at you suspiciously with her eyes narrowed. "Hmm, yeah that works. I'll call you later and you better give me all the details though."

"Okay, deal."

And with that, they both head for the door. Yoojin turns to give you one last wink before they're gone.  

"I guess it's just us." Jaehyun's eyes are sparkling when they meet yours and he gives a gentle smile before shyly holding you hand. "We're probably too late for my reservation, but there are some good food places not too far from here."

"So..."

"Have dinner with me?"

"Hmm, I thought you didn't have your car here."

He looks pained. "Y/N!"

"I'm just kidding! I'm actually starving so let's go."

***

It's hours of delicious food, good conversation, and shy glances later that he finally drops you off at home. When your phone buzzes this time, it's not from Yoojin—it's a text from an unknown number followed by an image attachment.

"I have a feeling this is very false for you :)" it reads. And your heart skips a beat when you see the image.

It's the "no one likes you when you're 23" meme.

On the day of your 23rd birthday, you definitely weren't expecting anyone to like you, just as you haven't for the past 22 years. But with the words in Jaehyun's text that you read and reread, the light fragrance of the rose now in your vase and the giant plushie on your bed, and your mind replaying his bright smile and dimples and the sparkle in his eyes, it seemed like today was different.

Maybe today, someone just might like you when you're 23.

[tiramisiyu]

【未定事件簿】  Tears of Themis: Xia Yan Personal Story 4-11 Translation

Translation Masterlist | Xia Yan Masterlist | Video

Chapter 4: 4-1 / 4-2 / 4-4 / 4-5 / 4-6 / 4-7 / 4-9 / 4-10 / 4-11 / 4-12 / 4-13 / 4-14 / 4-16

I drove the car into the boundless night.

Sphinx: Don’t worry. Sergeant Li’s team has already sent out a call for help and support teams will be over soon. They’ll be fine.

MC: Thanks for comforting me, Sphinx.

Sphinx: … That’s all I can do here, comfort people. It’s always been like that.

Sphinx’s voice had a sliver of frustrated self-mocking in it, for some reason.

He had just spoken when my phone suddenly vibrated – the caller was of an unknown number.

Based on the number, it looked like they were using an internet phone.

MC: Who would be using an internet phone to call me?

Sphinx: …

Sphinx: Put it on speaker, so I can hear too.

I accepted the call and tapped the speakerphone symbol.

Unknown Caller: Miss Lawyer, correct?

This voice sounded exactly the same as the one in Ji Xiaoqing’s recording!

MC: Song Heng!

Song Heng: Hahaha, it makes things easier if Miss Lawyer remembers me this well.

MC: What do you want?

Song Heng: They had you take the evidence away first, right? I want you to take the evidence to me.

MC: What nonsense—

???: Agh!

I hadn’t finished speaking when an agonized shout came from my phone.

MC: !!!

Song Heng: Miss Lawyer, do you know who that is?

⊳ I know ⊳ I don’t know

I recalled the agonized voice immediately – it was Ji Xiaoyu!

 ⊳ I know ⊳ I don’t know

MC: …

The voice was somewhat familiar, but I couldn’t quite remember who it was all at once.

Song Heng: Then I’ll give you a reminder – break two more of her fingers.

???: Arrgh--!

The two agonized shouts made me recall who it was immediately – it was Ji Xiaoyu!

--

The police had given Ji Xiaoyu protection before – did something happen?

MC: Ji Xiaoyu! What did you do to her!

Song Heng: Don’t worry. I just broke two of her fingers as a warning for you.

MC: You—

Song Heng: Now we can have a nice conversation, right, Miss Lawyer?

Song Heng: Take the evidence to me, or else I’ll have Ji Xiaoyu die in an awful way.

MC: …

Sphinx: Do not panic. Turn on the car computer now and backup the evidence.

Sphinx: You’re already outside of the Maple Leaf Event Hall network range, and you’re within the range of Cloudbreak Mountain’s public park network.

Sphinx: When you finish backing up and uploading the evidence, I’ll use the public network to get into your car’s computer and get rid of any indications of the upload.

Sphinx: Also, I will call the police right now. Delay for time as much as you can.

Sphinx: It will take 45 minutes to get from the nearest station to you.

I followed Sphinx’s instructions and started to backup the contents of the USB. The entire process required 5 minutes.

Simultaneously, Ji Xiaoyu’s shouts came from the phone.

Ji Xiaoyu: Don’t mind me!

Ji Xiaoyu: Miss Lawyer, if you hadn’t found me, I would’ve wanted to die long ago! I’m not scared!

Ji Xiaoyu: Even if I die, I will drag these people who caused my sister to die into hell with me!

Ji Xiaoyu: Don’t come over, that will help me more – urk!

Ji Xiaoyu sounded like someone had clamped down on her neck. What followed was a flurry of punching and kicking sounds.

The fighting sounds in the phone grew more intense, but Ji Xiaoyu did not shout again. I could only hear her suppressed, rough gasps of pain.

MC: (Ji Xiaoyu…)

Song Heng: Hostages always like to display this sort of old act – no creativity whatsoever.

Song Heng sounded like he was complaining about spending money to see a bad movie.

Song Heng: Back to the original topic, Miss Lawyer. What do you want to do?

Song Heng: I looked into your work records – you seem to think yourself as a very righteous lawyer.

Song Heng: Then, Miss Righteous Lawyer, tell me – which is more important, evidence or the life of a victim?

MC: I…

I didn’t know how to respond.

Song Heng waited several seconds, then laughed knowingly.

Song Heng: Those of justice always insist that the lives and safety of people are more important than anything else, but you’re not saying anything…

Song Heng: Looks like you feel that evidence is more important that Ji Xiaoyu’s life, correct?

Song Heng: Makes sense, as evidence is more valuable for you.

MC: What do you mean…

Song Heng: To both the police and to you, rather than saving some innocent person and losing some essential evidence, and thus failing to solve the case due to lacking the final bit…

Song Heng: Destroying a large gang will bring you more concrete benefit.

Song Heng: The police can get awards and be promoted, and you, miss, can get exposure, fame, and receive more cases.

Song Heng: As for some unlucky, innocent members of the masses – the path to victory will always have some sacrifices.

Song Heng: Plus, these victims are always so willing to help you get rid of any worries of future consequences.

Song Heng: “Even if I die, I’ll drag these guys into hell with me”, hahaha…

Song Heng: When interviewed by the media, when facing the family members of the victims, and in the quiet nights, do you comfort yourself like that?

Song Heng: “I’ve achieved the victims’ final wishes”, as a few cheap tears trickle down your face, becoming a “hero” with your mind at peace.

Song Heng couldn’t resist laughing.

MC: Not at all!

Song Heng: All come for the sake of profit and leave after the profit is made.

Song Heng: Man is always a refined egoist. I, of course, have no problems if you want to do that.

Song Heng: But us villains are more magnanimous, while you all are hypocrites of fake justice.

I knew that Song Heng was trying to agitate me, trying to force me over… my fingernails had completely sunken into the steering wheel.

Song Heng: I can let you hypocrites take what you need after, but I’m in a rush now, so I’ll have to use some villainous methods.

MC: What are you going to do?!

Song Heng: The lives of victims naturally cannot compare to your vanity that wants to execute justice.

Song Heng: Then which is more important, your reputation or vanity?

Song Heng: Miss Lawyer, if you do not come, I will edit this recording of you ignoring death and post it online.

Song Heng: Using public opinion to apply pressure in court is also a common method used by lawyers. You must be well aware of how powerful it is.

I looked at the uploading progress bar on the car computer – it finally completed backup of the evidence and was now starting the upload.

MC: I will bring the evidence to you.

Song Heng: Good.

Song Heng: Then I will send you the address now. You must come over with the evidence alone.

Song Heng: Aside from that, there’s something else.

My phone suddenly vibrated twice, and a message popped up.

Song Heng: Open the link in the message.

Song Heng: That will plant a Trojan virus in your phone. Messages, phone records, webpage records, and the microphone… I’ll be controlling it all.

Song Heng: Don’t even think about hanging up and calling the police.

MC: … I got it.

I opened the link in the message.

Song Heng: According to your phone’s location, you’ll only need 20 minutes to get here at full speed.

Song Heng: If you try to dawdle… I’ve got lots of ways to make you understand how it feels to regret.

MC: Do not do anything to Ji Xiaoyu anymore. I will get over on time.

Song Heng: Okay, then I’ll be waiting for you.

Song Heng finally hung up.

My hand felt powerless for a second, and the car nearly skidded.

Sphinx: Miss MC, I have some things to say to you now.

Sphinx: Tap on the earbud in response. One tap for “yes”, two taps for “no”.

If I spoke, Song Heng would overhear using my phone microphone. Sphinx and I could only communicate like this.

I lifted my trembling hand, tapping on the microphone once.

Sphinx: I must remind you that even if you send the evidence, you and Ji Xiaoyu will not survive. Qian Yi and Ji Xiaoqing are examples of this.

Sphinx: The place he’s told you to go to is a mountain road in the middle of construction. Typically, no one will pass by.

Sphinx: I’m sure you’re well aware of what he intends to do.

I tapped the earbud once.

Sphinx: So you do know…

He went silent for a moment.

Sphinx: You are not the police. You have no duty to endanger yourself to save Ji Xiaoyu.

Sphinx: I’ve already recorded the call just now and called the police. I’ve also sent the address Song Heng sent you to the police. They will send people to save you.

MC: (But with his location, even the closest policemen will need 45 minutes to get over.)

MC: (If I don’t get there in 20 minutes, Song Heng will kill Ji Xiaoyu and escape the net…)

MC: (But if I can delay for 25 minutes until the police arrive….)

I tapped twice on the earbud.

Sphinx did not respond. A moment later, a sudden noise came from the earbud.

Sphinx: Xia Yan and the rest have successfully escaped. I’ll connect him in!

I didn’t have any time to do anything before I heard Xia Yan’s voice.

Xia Yan: … It’s me.

MC: (Xia Yan… it’s great that you’re fine.)

When I heard his voice, my tears burst out.

Xia Yan: Do you have to go? And nothing I say will change your mind?

Trembling, I tapped once on the earbud.

MC: (I’m so sorry…)

Xia Yan: …

Xia Yan: It will take me 35 minutes to drive to where Song Heng is. After you get there, no matter what, delay him for 15 minutes.

Xia Yan: I will absolutely save you. Absolutely.

MC: (I believe you… I will wait for you.)

I wanted to speak to Xia Yan. I had so many things I wanted to say to him.

But right now, all I could do was tap on the earbud once…

Xia Yan: … You must wait for me.

--

I drove forward, towards the location Song Heng indicated.

Midway there, the storm clouds accumulated above. A few muffled claps of thunder sounded, and a rainstorm poured down.

[votederpycausemufins]

The rescue commences. But it’s going to be harder than Tommy thought because the bots aren’t so keen on being rescued.

the tagged people i like! @petrichormeraki @helleborusangel

Xannes spoke Jrum’s name as a question and immediately all eyes were on him. Xannes tried to keep from cursing in front of the kid, but it was a little hard when he saw even more red. Did he just change his face to match the room, or did he just do that whenever. “Xannes? What are you doing here?”

“You know this guy?” The demon asked in a wary tone.

“Yes he does. As for the question, NPG found out about the situation with your disappearance and I offered to come looking for you.”

Jrum’s face instantly lit up and in a moment he was running over to hug the helsmit. Xannes almost accepted it too, since the kid probably had been terrified in an unfamiliar place. But just at the last second, he saw the red plants that coated Jrum’s body and he took a step again. “Sorry. Still not a hugger.”

Jrum pouted and crossed his arms, but didn’t actually seem too upset. “Well, you came at the best possible time! Is NPG going to show up too?”

“Unfortunately not. I don’t think he can get in and I haven’t figured out what’s causing it yet.”

“Aww… It would have been nice…”

“So, what’s going on here?”

“This is the Red Banquet.” The demon spoke, looking much less threatening now that he knew Xannes was a friend. “We’ve been planning this little party for a while and I’m sure other guests will be arriving shortly. You’re just a bit early.”

“Is that why the entrance was covered up?” Xannes asked, glancing behind himself for a moment, both to look at the entrance as well as from the feeling of being watched.

“Yes, I hope you didn’t hurt them too much.”

“Hurt… who?” Xannes asked nervously and suddenly he realized just exactly how off this all felt.

“The Egg of course! It’s the source of all the plants around us!”

Xannes glanced at Jrum. “Alright, why’s he got the things growing in him? I’d think that wouldn’t be good for his body.”

“I’m just fine! Better even! I can do things all on my own and don’t need any of Grum’s stupid help.”

That made Xannes realise that the other of the two bots was indeed missing. “Wait, where is he?”

“I don’t really know. I haven’t seen him in a while. He could be dead for all I care.”

The helsmit looked back at the people gathered around the table. This really did seem all too familiar. And that wasn’t a good thing. He remembered having NPG finally getting the turquoise infection out of his system so he could deal with the rest of the similarly infected helsmets of turquoise and magenta spores. “I’m guessing HEP is less of a problem here?”

Most of the people at the table looked confused, but of course Jrum wasn’t, and surprisingly, neither was the demon. “No! We crushed them into the ground, and if any of them wants to live, they’ll come here!”

Xannes choked in surprise. Okay, it looked like those plants were really getting to him. “Well, looks like there’s still a few kicking around.”

“Really? Who? Is it Grum?!”

“Nope. Sorry kid.” Xannes added enchantments to his sword as he pulled it out. “Guess I’m just following in my brother’s footsteps, huh.”

And then chaos broke out.

Tommy had no idea how different the SMP would be when he got back. He expected more of the same, people around making destructive chaos and probably new posters and creeper holes. But the red shit all over the place was different. Plus it didn’t look like anyone was really around.

Before moving anywhere, he pulled out the comm Grian had given him and sent him a message.

<NPC_GRIAN> Alright, made it in.

<NPC_GRIAN> Wait was this NPG’s

He waited, but a message didn’t come in right away, so Tommy put the comm away to start looking. He didn’t know what exactly the plants were, but enough crazy things had happened in this world, so he mainly just ignored them, not caring if he did touch them. One thing that did get his attention was a poster that the plants were bordering. It was inviting people, Tommy assumed anyone, to the Red Banquet. Whatever that was. At the very least that likely explained the lack of people.

Tommy continued walking, poking his head into just about every building to hopefully find someone, but there was still nothing. He was hoping for at least someone to be around to tell him what was going on, but it didn’t look like that was the case. “How the fuck does everyone go to the same fucking thing? And where the fuck is it?”

No answer came for Tommy, so he ended up going into his old home, though it looked like someone had been living there. Connor, if the signs were telling the truth. “Well, let’s see if any of my shit is still here.”

Tommy honestly couldn’t remember what stuff would have been there, but there were still some items that he thought would be good to have on him, just in case. As he was rummaging around, the door behind him opened, and Tommy turned around to see who it was. Tommy’s fight or flight response immediately activated when he was staring at the admin, who was surprisingly just staring back at him.

“D-Dream…”

“How the fuck did you get here before me?!”

“Bitch I’ve been gone for months, you had plenty of time to visit this place. That’s only going to be your fault.” Tommy retorted, forcing himself to have some confidence.

“It is possible a teleport was used if he was aware of your destination.” Another voice spoke and Tommy lit up for a second.

“Holy fuck, Grum! That was easier than I expected. Where’s Jrum?” Then he stopped when he finally saw Grum and the state he was in. In his anger, he pulled out his borrowed sword and pointed it at Dream. “What the fuck did you do?” 

Before Dream or Grum could say anything, Grum suddenly turned around and drew a weapon, deflecting an attack from behind. “You done running yet?”

“How are you-”

“You! You goddamn bitch!”

“You’re supposed to be in prison!”

“What is going on?!”

Grum slashed at Theseus’ legs before answering. “The one currently attacking us is an alternate form of bzzt from a separate universe. The one we discovered is the one you are likely more familiar with.”

“Yeah green bitch! What are you going to do with two of us?”

Dream looked like he was about to attack, but then he was grabbed by Grum. “Commencing emergency escape.” And then the two of them disappeared.

“Fuck, now they’re gone.”

Theseus stepped into Tommy’s old house, holding his axe at the ready. “How did you get out?”

“Hey, you really want to kill me? Wouldn’t that end badly for you?” Tommy took a step back.

“Answer the fucking question!”

“Your Phil let me out when he realized you weren’t in the hels dimension anymore.”

Theseus spoke another curse under his breath. “Well, you better not get in the fucking way.”

Tommy crossed his arms. “Hey, I’m just after Grum and Jrum, and seeing as how he’s…” Tommy trailed off for a moment, remembering Grum and how he reminded Tommy of himself when he was in exile. “He’s got Grum, so as long as that’s the case, I’m after him too.”

“It’s a lost cause. That thing is better used for scrap metal. Though hopefully after I’ve gotten Dream back to hels.”

“Wait, why do you want that?” Tommy asked. Why would anyone actually want Dream around and not just kill him. “Didn’t you kill your version of him? Why get a replacement?”

“Because I wasn’t finished dealing with the first one.” Theseus answered, then put his axe away. “Let me do what I’m here to do, and maybe I’ll help with your little problem. Got it?” And before Tommy could answer, his hels version was gone.

Tommy wanted to follow, but first pulled out his comm to send an update and hope Grian had responded. He smiled when he saw that he had, but then confused when he saw there were other messages. He read them off, then sent some messages back.

<Grian> That’s good to hear. And yeah it’s his. He never used it so I ended up keeping it on me and never got it back to him.

[Eyes] X-1, Y-1, Z-1

[Eyes] X-2, Y-2, Z-2

[Eyes] X-3, Y-3, Z-3

<NPC_GRIAN> I got good, bad and unsure news

<NPC_GRIAN> Good, I found one of them

<NPC_GRIAN> Bad, something’s seriously wrong with him cause Dream did something

<NPC_GRIAN> weird, just got message from something/someone called Eyes giving me three sets of coordinates

<NPC_GRIAN> any way to use this thing to look at my coords?

Tommy stood there, waiting for a response. When one wasn’t coming in, he started fiddling with the comm to try and figure it out himself. Just as Grian got back to him, Tommy figured it out.

<Grian> Seriously wrong how?

<NPC_GRIAN> Looks damaged and isn’t showing much emotion. Also working with Dream? But the bitch tried convincing me he was my friend so could be the same sort of thing

<NPC_GRIAN> also figured out coords

Tommy switched back to the coordinate reader and started shifting around, trying to figure out which direction was which. It seemed like the first and second set of coordinates were about the same distance from where he currently was. Because of that, he started to head towards the first one listed. While he was walking, another message came in from Grian.

<Grian> That was fast. Anyway, what do the other messages look like?

<NPC_GRIAN> I started working on it when you didn’t get back to me immediately.

<NPC_GRIAN> looks like: [Eyes] coordinates

<NPC_GRIAN> doesn’t look like a player’s text, but also not sure what could message me, so that’s why I’m not sure.

Tommy groaned when a message didn’t come back within the next few seconds. What was Grian doing that was causing such a delay. Maybe it was just the way these comms worked? Once Grian got back to him, he could bring it up.

<Grian> Yeah, that looks like something else. And what do you mean not immediately?

<NPC_GRIAN> I’m guessing it’s something with these comms. It’s taking you ages to send a message back.

He had nearly reached the coordinates when Grian got back to him.

<Grian> Meanwhile I’m getting your messages all at once like they were pre-typed. That’s not a good sign.

<NPC_GRIAN> Well shit

Tommy stuffed the comm in his pocket and started running. He was close enough to tell that the coords were for the house that Tommy had never seen before, but recognized just the same due to it looking more like something out of Hermitcraft. He slammed the door open and started calling. “Jrum! Hey Jrum are you in here?!” There was no answer and Tommy checked the communicator again. He was just about at the right coordinates, but the Y value was a little off. That probably meant that the location needed to be exact, and Tommy looked down at the comm to make sure he lined up exactly. Because of that, he didn’t realize he was about to walk into something until he crashed into the charger and fell to the ground.

“Oh that’s a big charger. Why’s it so huge?” He looked between the coordinates again. “Oh. I’m guessing something’s in there.” Tommy broke into the charger’s casing and poked his head inside. For the most part, it was just a jumble of redstone, but in one corner was a torch lighting up a barrel. The teen pulled himself inside just enough to open the barrel and pull the contents out, that being a single unsigned book.

Tommy looked around before going over to a table and sitting down to read the book. He sent another quick update to Grian before opening it up and reading. It seemed to be a lot of notes written down, filling the pages. None of them were complete sentences, and the ink stains made Tommy imagine a number of them were written in a rush.

Zoning out = DSMP console program. QHHBP program active? What's KGADOOHM and HJTHJ? Connected to K⊣OOᒲR? There’s a vault. It’s for favorite things. Items and animals. I couldn’t write right. I think I zoned out there and fell. Posters of 2 music discs. Coords: X-3, Y-3, Z-3.

Tommy looked at his comm and noticed the third set of coordinates matched the ones written down in the book. Obviously he would need to go there. But Tommy continued reading, messaging Grian what was written down.

Woke up in pain. Programs were running too much. Don’t know why. Managed to unplug and drain battery. 873.5% of what. It was connected to ⎓⚍リ↸||?

Jrum officially moved out. He likes the red plants. I don’t. They’re not natural. Admin keeps visiting. Asking questions. Not sure how to feel. ⎓⚍リ↸|| visits too. Those are nicer.

Tommy flipped through more pages. More questions and confusion. Some did end up as full writing while others were just more quickly written words to convey an idea. With the mention of Jrum, this was obviously something Grum wrote, but there was almost too much here. Then Tommy stopped and read another entry.

Jrum officially got adopted. I don’t understand how I feel. It hurts but I’m also happy. He’ll stay away, but it just reminds me how hurt he is. How scared I feel. I miss my dads. Why didn’t they find us?

Jrum got adopted? Grum wondering why Grian and Mumbo hadn’t come for them and missing them? That wasn’t good. And based on the messaging problem, Tommy had an idea why.

<NPC_GRIAN> Another page implies they’ve been here a really long time. Explains why the server’s so different and how Dream was able to get Grum to that point.

<NPC_GRIAN> also you’re probably going to have to fight for custody or something because someone adopted Jrum.

Since Tommy knew he wasn’t going to get an answer back soon, he went back to reading. The messages seemed to be shorter and shorter, the handwriting becoming more messy. Tommy assumed that was because of them being over time and Dream breaking the bot down more and more. Then he got to a list which he immediately typed up and sent to Grian.

<NPC_GRIAN> Found a list of names or something. Obviously seems important.

<NPC_GRIAN> List: Grum, Dream, Gorgeous, Poultry Man, Eyes, Console

<NPC_GRIAN> I don’t know if it’s a code or just names or what. But since I got messages from ‘Eyes’...

Tommy closed the book and put it in his inventory. There was still more to read, but he already got information from it and was losing time. For now he needed to go to the second coordinates.

Xannes just stood, not even reacting when the first person attacked him. Their axe blade was aimed right for his chest, no armor there to stop it, but the weapon bounced off, causing no damage. Someone else attacking had the same reaction. “Sorry, but doesn’t look like your weapons are really working right now. Too bad since I’m sure mine will work fine.” And he swung his sword, hitting the next person who attempted to fight him. They were set on fire due to the fire aspect as well and being knocked away, slamming into the wall from a high level knockback.

From there, Xannes continued to attack, even getting a little cocky about the fact he couldn’t get hit in his current player-mode. Because of that, he was easily caught off guard when the demon grabbed him, forgetting he was only invulnerable to damage. While it didn’t hurt when he would have otherwise been crushed to death, now he couldn’t move at all.

His best shot was to try and get the demon with his sword. Demons were normally connected to the nether and his aetherite sword being an opposite of netherite tended to have a worse effect on them. But before he could get far with that plan, the weapon was taken away, and since he wasn’t in hels, his hacking capabilities couldn’t get him a new one. Potentially he could summon it back to himself, but that would be a little more complicated to use and could cost extra seconds he wouldn’t have.

“Why did you come if you’re just here to hurt me?” Jrum asked, clinging to the cat hybrid.

“I was trying to find you and your brother to take you home.” Xannes grunted, struggling as much as he could to get out. “I didn’t realize you’d be mind controlled or whatever this is.”

“I-I’m not being- and why would you want to take me home?”

“Uh, because your family is worried about you and helping out is the ‘good thing’ to do and all that bullshit.”

Jrum crossed his arms. “I don’t want to go. They just left me here, and… and now I have a new family!”

Xannes was about to speak up, but then he was squeezed a bit harder for a moment, pushing the air out of his lungs for a moment. “And we’re not letting anything happen to him, so if you’re planning on hurting him, you can think again!”

Xannes was wheezing slightly, trying to breathe. Suffocation like this was weird. Technically it couldn’t kill him or cause actual damage, but it still managed to cause a type of ghost pain. It was getting to the point where he was worried about managing to pass out, when there were voices. They sounded distant and unfamiliar, but getting closer. For a moment, Xannes thought he was imagining it, but the fact that the people around him were reacting to it too made him realize it was real.

People started appearing from the entrance, all of them wearing what Xannes was pretty sure looked like hazmat suits of some kind, but he couldn’t be absolutely sure from this distance and his current situation. What he could be sure of was the yell that came, and the chorus of the same response from Jrum’s new ‘family’.

“Jrum!”

“Tommy?!”

Tommy was almost to the second set of coordinates when he saw something different. It was a person. Well, not just a person, but a number of people. “Hey! Heeeey!” He yelled out to get their attention and most everyone looked over, showing a mix of emotions from surprise, to fear, to acceptance.

“Is that Tommy?”

“No, Tommy’s dead. Dream said so.”

“Well he lied bitch!” Tommy said, finally reaching the group. “What the fuck is going on around here?”

“I think you need to give answers first.”

Tommy groaned a little. “Okay fine, I ran off, started living somewhere else. Tubbo thought I was dead and pulled me back. I didn’t want to come back and brought Tubbo with me, and then Phil and Techno followed. I’m back ‘cause some kids ended up here on accident and I’m after them.”

“Are you talking about Grum and Jrum?” Tommy was pretty sure that was Puffy.

“Yeah! Any clue where Jrum is, cause I’ve seen Grum.” Tommy watched as a few people glanced at each other. “Oh fuck, what’s wrong?”

“First, you need to put a hazmat suit on.” Someone stepped forward, and Tommy was surprised to see it was Sam, looking a little odd without his creeper mask on, unable to wear it with the rest of the suit. 

“Can I ask why?”

“See all the red plants? Bad found something underground and started worshipping it. It’s started corrupting people, and one of them is your friend.”

“Shit.” Tommy said, grabbing the offered suit and putting it on. “You said Bad and Jrum, who else is down there.”

“Ant, Punz, Purpled, Ponk, Fundy, also someone named Hannah, you wouldn’t know her. She joined while you were presumed dead. We’re still unsure about Sapnap since he’s been trying to stay out of it, but Bad was really trying to pull him in.”

Tommy nodded, then realized that if Bad was the person in charge and tried pulling Sapnap in, then he also likely tried with- “And what about Skeppy?”

“He… he was involved.”

“I’m noticing the use of that in the past word shit. That mean he got out or…?”

“Last week Bad ended up getting him killed.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. If this thing could get Bad to kill Skeppy, it was really dangerous. “Alright, then let’s get in there.”

“Wait, you need a few things.” Sam started handing him items as other people in the group started moving. “These splash bottles are filled with holy water from church prime. They seem to help against these plants. Flint and steel to burn anything you're able to break. It needs to be fully burned or it can heal itself. Also don’t actively try to break anything except the source which looks like a giant egg. Trying to break anything is like it has a thorns enchantment. You get hurt back if you try to break it. Same thing happens with the main source, but it hurts you more, so you’ll need the extra health.”

Tommy took all the offered items, then followed the group down. He kept his sword at the ready, even testing it with one of the vines on the walls. Ow, yeah, that did hurt. So it didn’t look like the different material would help anything. Tommy was mostly willing to help, but he also knew that trying to get Jrum out of there would probably be a better priority since that’s what he was there for anyway and getting rid of any member of this evil group or whatever it was would help.

The moment he got down into the main cavern, he called out Jrum’s name. “Jrum!” He then watched as the people who had already been down there turned to look at him, surprised to see him alive.

“Hey! Theseus copy! Say yes!” Someone spoke up, and Tommy vaguely remembered the voice, but couldn’t place it. He had no idea what it would do, so he ended up saying yes anyway. Immediately, he regretted it as the sword in his hand disappeared. But that was followed by a yell from Bad, and Tommy saw him let go a person who was now holding the pink sword. “Thanks.”

Tommy caught the sword as it was thrown back to him, the other person he now recognized as Xannes slamming himself into Ponk and taking another aetherite sword from him. “Now what are you doing here?”

“Got Grian to send me in as back up. I see you found Jrum.”

“Yeah, the little shit has the weird vines growing on him and apparently has decided that these idiots are his family now. Bit of a downgrade if you ask me.”

Tommy slashed at someone who tried to attack Xannes from behind. “Yeah, found a book that I’m pretty sure is Grum’s. Apparently they’ve been here a long while and Jrum ended up getting adopted.”

“Hasn’t it been just a few days?”

“Yeah, so obviously there’s a big issue. Any chance you can teleport us out of here if I grab Jrum?”

“It would be easy if I had some coordinates.” Xannes knocked someone to the ground and then stole their axe before throwing it at someone else to hit them with it.

“Yeah, I’ve got some. X-3, Y-3, Z-3. That work for you?”

“Sure they’re safe?”

Tommy shook his head. “Not at all, but they were sent to me by someone, and the previous two ended up helping.”

“Alright, but if you get us trapped, I’m getting myself out and leaving you behind.”

“Yeah whatever, I already broke out of one prison. I’m sure there’s nothing as tough as that one.”

“Oh please tell me you didn’t.”

“Alright, I won’t.”

“Goddammit. Just grab Jrum and bring him here..” the helsmit groaned, attacking another corrupted SMP member and giving Tommy an opening.

Tommy ran towards the bot. He didn’t have as good of a sword as Xannes, so getting through everyone was a bit tougher, but he finally made it, grabbing the bot’s arm. Jrum immediately turned to look at him. For a moment, Tommy thought it would be easy, until the kid pulled out an axe and something Tommy recognized flashed on screen. “Oh shit shit shit! Jrum Jrum Jrum Jrum no!” He barely dodged the swing of an axe by jumping back. Sure, Jrum was a kid, but he was a robot kid. That sometimes took combat lessons from False. And he could remember them perfectly. And that meant the kid could potentially be as dangerous as, dare he say it, Techno.

He tried to keep dodging, moving back so Jrum would have to follow, but hits were landing, and the hazmat suit wasn’t the best armor to wear. He hazarded a glance behind him to check how close they were to Xannes, but he got an axe to his gut and fell to the floor, the hazmat suit now torn. “Xannes! A little help!”

The admin rushed over, hitting Jrum back with a fist to avoid using knockback but also keep him from killing Tommy. Then he hit a button on his helmet and the three of them were teleported away. The sudden change of scenery made Jrum stop attacking at the very least, now focused on figuring out where they were.

“Where did you take us?! Where are we?! Take me back!”

“No fucking clue.” Tommy answered, looking around before his eyes widened. “Wait, are those…?” He jumped up, seeing the posters of his discs and the two of them each on their own pedestal on a platform of gold blocks on either side of a nether portal. “My discs!”

He started running towards them, but was shot from the side. The power from the punch bow pushed Tommy with enough force, he fell back down. He winced and held the wound before looking to see who had shot him. “Dream…”

“How did you find this place?”

“That would be my doing.” Xannes raised his hand for a moment to get the admin’s attention before noticing the second robot. “And I see you have Grum with you.”

“Grum?!” Jrum looked over, asking the question angrily. “What, you couldn’t be dead?!”

Grum took a slight step to the side to be seen better. “And I see you are with these two. I believed you to have finally given up, but yet you still cling to meaningless hope.”

“No! I have a new family! I don’t care about these two.”

“And yet here you are, with both of them and coming after me. I thought I made it quite clear that I have no want to be around something as useless as you.”

“I’M NOT USELESS!” Jrum shouted before running at Grum, fast enough that Dream reacted by simply moving out of the way, pulling out a shield in an attempt to block. Jrum attempted to attack with his axe, but the blade just clashed against another axe in Grum’s hand. Jrum attempted to attack again, but it was also blocked by a mirrored move. The two robots just started to fight each other, neither managing to hit the other as they perfectly matched each other’s moves.

Dream attempted to stop the fight with an attack of his own, but he ran into an invisible wall. Feeling around, he was surrounded by the same problem. “Barrier blocks. Sorry, but not something you can escape from. You’ve got bedrock right below you and I know you decided using a console was the best option for whatever reason, so you don’t have any escape.”

“Alright, now let’s break the bots up.” Tommy said, walking towards them, switching his broken hazmat suit for armor. 

“Where’d you get all that gear?”

“Sto- uhhh borrowed it from NPG. It was the only thing I had access to and didn’t want to have absolutely nothing. Didn’t get a chance to replace it cause I got here too quickly.” Tommy explained before getting between the bots. “Alright you two, break it- ow! Stop hitting me! You’re gonna kill me!”

Xannes sighed and pulled Tommy out from the battle. “That was probably the worst idea.”

“It was at least something. So unless you want to suggest something, it’s the best we got.”

“Here’s an idea. You give Dream to me.”

Tommy and Xannes turned to see Theseus coming out of the nether portal. “After that, well, don’t get in my way anymore and maybe I’ll let you live.”

[akaluan]

Erich/Kisuke/Alexis: Soulmate AU + Character in Peril Part 17

They break camp shortly after true dawn.

It’s later than Erich wanted, but they’re not that far behind schedule.

(Not that they really have a schedule anymore.)

(Or anyone expecting them at the other end of their march…)

(No.)

(Focus.)

It feels odd to be abandoning camp the way they are, with all the tents still pitched and crates still scattered around, ruined and discarded equipment left behind, and with nothing but the essentials on their backs and stretchers for the men too injured to keep up. The whole place is booby trapped, rigged with explosives and wires and anything else the men could come up with on such short notice; it certainly isn’t perfect and there’s no guarantee that they’ll catch anyone with it, but at least they tried.

There’s nothing for them to return to and they all know it.

They’ve abandoned the field, abandoned their duty, and now they have to live with the consequences, whatever those may be.

They’re carrying enough food and supplies for a week’s march and that’s it. If they get delayed, if they have to take a longer route, if something — anything — goes wrong—

(No.)

(Focus.)

(They’ll make it.)

Both battalions settle into the steady, driving pace that time and emergencies have ground into their bones, and Alexis keeps pace without sign of strain. She’s probably using her inner power to bolster her strength, given that marching is not exactly a skill their people develop. Not to the extent he and his men have, old hands at marching for survival as they are.

On his other side, Urahara also keeps pace, though it’s obvious that he’s surprised by the speed in which they’re moving. Erich doesn’t know the man’s abilities well enough to decide if Urahara is having to bolster his own strength like Alexis is, but… he suspects that’s the case.

(Give a people a method of fast travel and of course they’ll discard the forced march as soon as possible.)

(If Reapers ever had a reason to march anywhere…)

(The scattered, decentralized ‘divisions’ Urahara spoke of makes him doubt that.)

“You know what your decision will make our Clan think,” Alexis murmurs as soon as they’ve all settled into the pace and are making good time through the forest.

Erich grimaces at her words and resists the urge to glance over at Urahara yet again; he does know what other Quincy will think, seeing him with the start of a power-weave bond connecting him to the man. They’re going to think he’s known Urahara for months, that they’ve made peace with each other and found a tentative balance and that Erich isn’t terrified of the Reaper he’s inviting into their home. It’s… it’s a convenient misconception, even if he hadn’t been thinking of it when he did it, but…

He doesn’t know how well he can uphold that misconception, because it’s a lie, because he is terrified, because the sight of Urahara standing over him is petrifying no matter how prepared he is, but…

But he can’t undo it, can’t take it back, because he needs to carry Benihime and this… this is the only way he can.

“I know,” he settles on, resigned-accepting-tired in a way that’s become all too familiar.

(He doesn’t remember what it’s like to not be resigned-accepting-tired anymore.)

(He’s lost so much, forced himself on for so long, that he… he doesn’t know if he can stop anymore.)

(Urahara is just one more weight to carry, one more responsibility to juggle, but…)

Erich forces his breathing to match his pace. Forces his mind to focus on the physical. Forces himself to let go, because… because…

Because Urahara is more than just a weight, more than just a source of stress. The dual beats of trust-wonder-loyalty from soulbond and power-weave are intoxicating, the lack of pain he’s in is breathtaking, and the memory of stories traded well into the depths of night is… subtler. Kinder. Humanizing when he’d never thought, never expected, to find any sort of common ground with a Reaper of all people.

(He wonders what that says about himself.)

(Wonders if he even wants to know.)

(Decides he probably doesn’t.)

Alexis gives him a concerned look and Urahara brushes concern-question-worry against his senses, both of them reacting to his twisting emotions, and…

It’s hard not to simply shake his head and deny anything being wrong, but… but they all know better than that.

“It’ll be alright,” he breathes, more for himself than for them, and reaches through his bonds to brush exhaustion-acceptance-hope against both of them as his true answer.

(Only a little longer.)

(Just one more march and then he can rest.)

(He can make it.)

(He will make it.)

(He has to.)

***

They keep moving, pushing on through the morning and into the early afternoon, stopping to rest and reconnoiter every few hours.

They’ve been lucky so far according to the scouts; the enemy hasn’t penetrated this far into the forests yet, still cautious-wary-uncertain after nearly a week of nighttime strikes and units unexpectedly dying. There’s no sign of the enemy advancing and no sign of active mages, which is all Erich can hope for at the moment.

That will change, he knows that will change, but for now…

For now he keeps them moving. Keeps pushing through the daylight for as long as his men can stand. Calls for breaks when he judges them needed. Orders them on when he senses they’ve recovered. Shares his spiritual power with Alexis when her own starts to flag, and almost, almost reaches out to do the same to Urahara, but…

Urahara is determination-focus-loyalty through their bond, the power tying them together unwavering, and Erich… Erich doesn’t know how to ask, how to offer, doesn’t know if it would even be accepted…

(Doesn’t know if he can make himself share…)

(Shame gnaws at his stomach for the doubt.)

(That’s his soulmate…)

(He should… should be able to…)

Erich grits his teeth and turns his attention to the land in front of them.

(He’ll handle it later.)

They make good time, for all that they’re exhausted and are carrying wounded with them.

(He’s given them hope, given them something they want, and they’re willing to push themselves to reach it.)

(They’re all good men, and he’s… he’s glad that Alexis arrived, that she offered Rerugen lands and hospitality when he could not.)

(None of them deserve the horrors their country has subjected them to.)

They march until the sun begins to set, shadows lengthening across the ground, a greedy darkness that quickly starts to obscure the hazards beneath their feet. Too much longer and they’ll be marching in impenetrable darkness, forced to slow their pace to a crawl even if they take the risk of lighting their way.

(Not that any of them want to.)

(Bad enough they’re marching away from an active combat zone.)

(Worse if they attract other attention along the way.)

(For all that man has conquered magic, there are still wild places amongst the world that are better left… undisturbed.)

Urahara stumbles and Erich automatically reaches out, grasping the man’s elbow to steady him, and—

Urahara freezes. Stumbles again, almost dragging them both down—

Erich huffs and drags Urahara up instead. “Fool,” he mutters as he tugs Urahara close, practically shoving power through their soulbond to refill Urahara’s own reserves. Now that he’s paying attention, he can feel how low Urahara strength is, and the shame-guilt-distress of earlier roars back to the fore; if only he had paid attention, if only he had reached out—

“Maa, maa, you really don’t have to! I—”

“You aren’t trained for this,” Erich snaps, then swallows back the other, equally sharp words that want to escape and looks back to catch Schwarz’s attention instead. “Major Schwarz!” he calls out, sensing the way the men around them perk up at his voice and knowing they’ll be pleased by his next words. “Call a halt, we’ve gone far enough for today.”

“Yes sir!” Schwarz replies, too disciplined to sound relieved but clearly feeling it all the same.

Erich considers the darkening forest around them for a moment, then adds, “Keep the fires to a minimum, just enough to heat some food, and then put them out again. Let’s not tempt fate.”

“Of course not, sir! I’ll pass the message along.”

Content with the knowledge that his men will be fine, Erich scans the area, looking for a place to rest for the night; a forest floor isn’t his preferred place to sleep — there’s very little comfort to be found in nature, if he’s being honest — but he’s slept in worse places.

As his men begin to fall out and set up their own small camps, Erich decides on a spot beneath an ancient, towering tree and pulls Urahara along with him, Alexis following in their wake.

“Sit down,” he orders Urahara as he lets go of the man, then turns away before Urahara can respond. He drops his pack with a groan and stretches, trying to work the kinks out of his spine before he starts setting up their minimal ‘camp’. Usually he’d just set up with Schwarz or Degurechaff, but… he’s not sure if he should this time, not sure where exactly the line is when dragging two soulmates around—

“The men are settling in, sir,” Schwarz reports, startling Erich from his thoughts. “Scouts are still reporting no sign of the enemy.”

“Good,” Erich says as he crouches down to get a closer look at the ground. It’s well padded with leaf litter at least, so they won’t have to sleep directly on the ground, and he doesn’t see any evidence of an insect nest nearby either. “Keep the watch close to camp tonight, and make sure everyone knows to keep the light to a minimum once the food’s been heated up.”

Schwarz watches him work for a moment, then glances past him to the gathering darkness beyond their makeshift camp. “Understood, sir, I’ll make sure the men know. I doubt the enemy will want to advance through that, anyway.”

“Not many people do,” Erich says with a faint smile, glancing up at Schwarz as he does. “Is there anything else, Major?”

“No, sir! I’ll return with some food when it’s ready.”

Erich watches Schwarz leave, then resumes setting up their minimal ‘camp’ as best he can; there’s little he can do besides making sure there aren’t any sticks or stones under where he plans to set their bedrolls, but anything is better than nothing. And without a fire or a tent, they’re going to want as much padding between them and the ground as possible.

“Here,” Alexis says as she kicks more leaves towards him. “Think we should do a bit of searching ourselves?” she asks softly as she crouches down next to him. “We could combine it with refilling his reserves.”

He sighs and scrubs the back of his wrist across his forehead, shame-embarrassment-guilt curdling his stomach at the reminder of what he let happen. “That’s… probably wise,” he murmurs as he casts a quick glance over his shoulder at Urahara, then looks away the instant Urahara meets his gaze. “That… I shouldn’t have let that happen…”

Alexis snorts and bumps her shoulder into his, brushing warmth-reassurance-confidence against his senses as she does. “We’re still feeling each other out, remember.”

“But I almost…!”

“And if his strength had given out before night, you would have corrected it,” she says firmly, leaning into his side. “I know you, Erich. No matter how you feel about him, he’s currently a man under your protection, and you would not have left him to suffer.”

Erich grimaces and wipes the debris from his hands, uncertain if he agrees with Alexis’ assessment; he’d entirely tuned Urahara out until the very last moment when he’d reached out and caught the man. If that wasn’t evidence that he would leave the man to suffer, he wasn’t sure what was.

(He could have done more.)

(Should have done more.)

(Just like he’d done for Alexis throughout the day…!)

Alexis gives him a sidelong look, then shrugs and turns away. “Urahara,” she calls, then gestures to the two packs sitting within arm’s reach of the man. “Can you throw us the bedrolls?” she asks, pronouncing her words as clearly and distinctly as she can.

“Bedrolls?” Urahara repeats carefully, a frown creeping in as he gives the packs a long, hard look. But before Erich can try to translate, understanding seems to dawn on Urahara’s face and he begins unlacing the bedrolls tied to each pack and tosses them one by one to Alexis. “Bedrolls,” he repeats again, a tiny, pleased grin on his face.

Alexis grins back at him as she catches the three bundles — one from Alexis’ pack and two from Erich’s — and hands them off to Erich for him to set up. “Good,” she praises, making a touch of color rise in Urahara’s cheeks as the man ducks his head.

It’s the work of moments to set all three of them up atop the padding of leaf litter, and Erich takes a moment to brush a hand over the bottom edge of each, setting up a tiny heating ward to slowly warm the interiors over the next few hours.

(He rarely takes the risk, but… Urahara’s being dealing with the Hollows in the area.)

(It should be safe to do this.)

(Hopefully…)

Erich sighs and pushes himself to his feet, the offers his hand to Alexis to help her up. “Food should be ready soon, then we’ll meditate,” he says as he crosses the small distance to Urahara and starts to sit, only to grimace as Benihime gets in the way. With a thought he adjusts the harness keeping her in place, giving them both a bit more freedom so her hilt isn’t jabbing into his hip. He tips his head back and closes his eyes, trying to dredge up the courage he needs to say— “I’m sorry.”

Leaves crunch as Urahara shifts position, confusion-awkwardness-uncertainty trickling through their paired bonds as he struggles for words. “I don’t understand,” he says eventually. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I do. I helped Alexis and not you,” Erich explains as best he can.

Urahara huffs a laugh. “I wouldn’t expect you to support two people the entire day. I only know a handful of people with reserves that deep, and neither of us qualify.”

Erich purses his lips and gives Urahara a considering look, uncertain if Urahara is just being polite or if the man legitimately doesn’t know that Quincy can draw power from the world around them. “It doesn’t matter how shallow or deep my reserves are,” he settles on at last. “The fact remains that I should have assisted you and I did not. Will you let me make it up to you?”

“Make it up to me…?” Urahara repeats in confusion, then shakes his head and asks, “How?”

“We’ll…” Erich grimaces, scrambling for the Akitsugo word for ‘meditate’ and turning up blank. He wishes Degurachaff was around to translate, but she’s probably off checking the camp and the men, and he has no idea when her rounds will be finished. “Meditate?” he tries in Imperial, only to sigh when Urahara shakes his head in incomprehension. “Sorry. I don’t know the word. But… sharing power? The three of us together. And tomorrow I will help keep your reserves steady.”

Urahara shakes his head again. “I don’t want you stressing yourself. I can manage.”

“Will your reserves be full again in the morning?” Erich asks pointedly, knowing that he hadn’t done much more than keep Urahara from collapsing from exhaustion earlier. Urahara’s awkward glance down is all he needs to know the truth: a single night won’t be enough. “Then trust me. Let me do this. You will see.”

He tries not to squirm under the sharp, assessing look Urahara gives him at that, then breathes out a quiet sigh when the man finally nods.

“We can try it,” Urahara agrees, their connection awash with trust-acceptance-loyalty once again. “But if I sense that you’re beginning to falter, we end it then and there.”

Erich smiles faintly at Urahara’s words. “Trust me,” he repeats, amused by the exasperated look that earns him.

Urahara will learn the truth soon enough.

(Hopefully this doesn’t backfire on him.)

(No.)

(He can’t think that way.)

(It will be fine.)

(Everything will be fine.)

(It has to be…)

(It has to be.)

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Two: Chapter Two

(AO3 counterpart here.)

The next day came, and with it a patchwork of clouds that pleasantly cooled down the usually warm morning. True to their words, the brothers decided to take the half-hour trek into the center of the Territory's valley to visit their mother. Beetlefoot had silently stood nearby, shifting his feet, until Mistface took the hint and invited him to come with them. Beetlefoot had then made a point of agreeing with a reluctant tone of voice, as if he had much better things to do than see Nettlecloud. Greyleaf and Mistface knew by now to just humor his strange pride and say nothing else.

Beetlefoot seemed to forget that he was supposed to be sullen about getting dragged along almost as soon as they were out of earshot of the rest of the group by the border of the settlement. He perked up, his regimented soldier’s stride relaxing more and more the closer they came to where the Vultures were residing. By the time they could see a small group lazing about together, he was almost walking like a normal cat.

A dark-striped ginger tom was the first to notice them, being the only one actually sitting up. He turned to a plain grey blob behind him and said something.

The blob shifted, and Nettlecloud’s head raised up, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. Her fur was as droopy as usual, but it reflected what little sunlight poked through the clouds and shined brighter than Mistface was used to seeing on his mother. Her tired eyes lit up and she slowly rose onto her haunches as the three toms reached the group.

“Oh, and you even brought Beetlefoot,” she croaked, purring. “Greyleaf, love, where have you been?”

“Busy, Mama.” Greyleaf greeted his mother with a gentle headbump. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you what’s been going on – I was asked to help out in Clast. I meant to send a messenger, but…”

“I’m just happy you’re alright,” Nettlecloud said, and drowsily smiled at him. “And you’re so close by! I could even make the walk, if your brother would let me.”

“Or if Rushroot would let you,” the ginger tom said. He looked at Mistface. “We’re glad to have her, by the way. She’s a treat. Minnowpounce already loves her.”

At the name, a dull brown-and-white molly with an incredibly round belly half-rolled their way, resting on her back. She nodded to the trio of newcomers and yawned.

“She’s planning names for my litter,” she said. “I told her we don’t know what they’ll look like yet, but…”

“It’s the closest I’ll get to grandchildren.” Nettlecloud looked back at her and spoke with a pointedly sweet and indulgent voice. “I know my darlings here won’t do it.”

“Mama-!“ Greyleaf and Mistface immediately started.

“I’m teasin’, my loves, only teasin’.” Nettlecloud trilled a soft laugh at their joint flusterment. “Maybe Beetlefoot will, one day.”

Mistface looked at Beetlefoot and immediately forgot his own mood to stifle a guffaw at how large Beetlefoot’s eyes were. His fur on his back stuck straight in the air and he was stiffly standing like he was trying to join it and fly into the sky.

“I don’t- I-“ Beetlefoot said, and spluttered a few more starts to a sentence before giving up and turning away in embarrassment. It was a very amusing look on him.

The ginger tom snorted and shook his head. “You’re something else, Nettlecloud.”

“An old lady like me loses all sense of social niceties after a while.” Nettlecloud chuckled and added to Beetlefoot, “I’m sorry, dear, I was just pokin’ fun at your expense.”

Beetlefoot’s response was a delayed clearing of the throat and a nod like he had just been told he had escaped death.

To save him from having to say anything, Mistface said, “Don’t wear out your welcome too soon. If you’re mockin’ everyone-“

“Stars above, no!” Nettlecloud blinked and playfully frowned at him. Out of the corner of Mistface’s eye, Greyleaf winced. “I’d never point a single cruel word at such lovely cats.”

Mistface rolled his eyes as he affectionately rasped a tongue over her ear. “Whatever you say, Mama.”

The conversation mellowed out a bit, and the longer they talked, the more the other cats stirred from their sleep and watched them. Occasionally, they would offer a comment or laugh at a joke, but otherwise it was mostly Nettlecloud, Mistface and Greyleaf. Beetlefoot, still looking a little embarrassed, gave a response now and then, but he seemed to be just fine sitting within the small circle and listening.

Eventually, Greyleaf cleared his throat. “Well, I’m sure you’ve heard by now, there’s been a predator sighting or two around this area. They haven’t sent a patrol to look at it yet, but…”

Beetlefoot and Mistface’s eyes met in a silent understanding. The leaders had claimed that there were other animals in the valley to try and keep cats away from the Clast camp, and therefore away from Redheart. Adding to that, there was a patrol nearby, but they were assigned to linger out of sight yet close enough to the settlement that Beetlefoot could sneak off and give them reports, so that they could relay that message to the leaders.

“I’ll be fine, dear.” Nettlecloud lifted and lowered her paw in a gesture of reassurance. “You just worry about yourself and y’all in Clast. You’ve got a lot of work to do there!”

Greyleaf took a slow breath, his eyes reflecting something Mistface couldn’t name. “You have no idea, Mama. No idea.”

---

Laurelclaw was a little lost.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to others – he did, very much – but as he looked over the much shorter cats passing through camp, occasionally swiping at each other with a laugh, he couldn’t figure out for the life of him how he was supposed to make any friends without getting into a fight.

He had been sitting against the wall of one of the houses for half the morning, occasionally standing to take a step into the crowd and then shyly sitting back down when someone looked at him. He hadn’t even gotten any prey from the center of the clearing yet in case someone challenged him over food. Not that he was extremely hungry – Plage cats, who traveled back and forth from the sea to the Territory, were used to not eating more than one or two meals in a day, and walking besides.

Still, he thought, it would be nice to be a little smaller so he could walk through without grabbing attention. Cats were always staring at him because of his height. Perhaps if he-

“You there!”

Laurelclaw wanted to hide. He knew that challenging tone of voice.

Nervously, he turned his head to see a black-and-white molly looking up at him with her head cocked. Her eyes were slightly squinted, like she was appraising him.

“You’ve been here since yesterday, and you haven’t said a word,” she declared, as if revealing some massive secret.

Laurelclaw’s awkward laugh stumbled out of him and flopped miserably on the ground. “Right, uh… well, I’ve just been, you know, I…”

“Looking for a good fight?” The molly smirked at him. “Not many who could take you, I bet. Where you from? Plage?”

“Yes, but- see-“

“I’m Peregrinefang,” she said, marching right over his mumbling. “Best fighter in the Clast, or at least the best native fighter. Who are you?”

Not for the first time, he loathed his suffix. “Laurel…claw.”

“Ah!” Peregrinefang’s eyes lit up. “You’re worth scrapping with, then. You know, plenty of cats around here would be very impressed with-“

“Oh! Coming!” Laurelclaw leaped to his feet, grinning apologetically at the molly. “Sorry, friend I came with, must be looking for me, nice to meet you-“

He poured out verbal nonsense over his shoulder as he trotted away as fast as he could without actually running. Peregrinefang watched him go, visibly unimpressed.

Laurelclaw perhaps should have been looking where he was going, because right before he looked ahead of himself, he bumped into something small and heard it squawk in alarm. He halted in his tracks, even jumping back a bit, ready for another deluge of apologies, when he blinked in surprise.

He had knocked over a tiny fawn calico that he recognized.

“Excuse me,” he said quickly. “I wasn’t being careful. Are you okay?”

The apprentice shook her head and sat up. She looked a little miffed, but she smiled up at him. “It’s fine, I was, uh…”

She trailed off and tilted her head. She seemed to recognize him too.

“Sorry, but...” She squinted a little. “Are you Laurelclaw?”

Laurelclaw brightened up. “Yes! Hi! You’re Littlepaw, right? We met at the Coterie.”

Littlepaw actually seemed delighted that he remembered her. Her curly-furred tail waved back and forth. “I didn’t think I’d see you here!”

“Same to you!” Laurelclaw lowered his head quite a bit to touch noses with her in greeting. “I thought you were off training to be a seer in Hillock?”

“I quit!” Littlepaw beamed and puffed out her chest. “Well, I ran away, but I did technically quit. And now I’m here with a friend I met!”

“Oh!” Laurelclaw said, having no idea how to respond to this. He floundered in his mind for a heartbeat or two. “That’s… quite a change!”

“It is!” Littlepaw’s beam turned into a wide grin. “I mean, I’m not really any good at fighting, and I’m still learning how to hunt well, but-“

“Littlepaw, who are you talking to?”

Laurelclaw flinched like he was in trouble – he was always expecting to be – and looked up to see the ticked grey tabby who had won the fight yesterday approaching. She wasn’t exactly scowling, but there was a wariness in her eyes as she looked Laurelclaw up and down.

Littlepaw almost hopped in place to turn to face her. “Flyfang! This is Laurelclaw. I met him before I met you. He’s nice, don’t worry.”

Flyfang tilted her head a little, appraising Laurelclaw. Despite his size, he felt as though he was a tiny kitten under her stare. “Is that so?”

“Hello,” Laurelclaw said meekly.

“Flyfang found me when I ran from Hillock,” Littlepaw explained. “Actually, she was running too, so we decided to come here together.”

“Marish for me,” Flyfang said, and the more she looked at Laurelclaw, the more her posture relaxed. “You’ve heard about them.”

“I know it’s hard to leave,” Laurelclaw affirmed. “But not much else.”

“They’re a secretive bunch.” Flyfang rolled her eyes. “They don’t want whatever stupid things they think are worth hiding getting out, so you’re not allowed to leave. But I have, and now I’m here.”

“Well…” Laurelclaw fumbled for something appropriate to say again. “That sounds like it was brave of you.”

Flyfang’s smile was oddly subdued. “One could say that.” She huffed quietly and gave Laurelclaw a friendly look. “You came in yesterday with Greyleaf’s brother, right? I caught your group splitting up. What’s a blind cat doing here?”

Laurelclaw’s brain stuttered. What was he supposed to say about that that wasn’t technically a lie?

“Flyfang!” Littlepaw jokingly swatted her friend with her tail. “Blind cats can do what they want.”

“I never said they couldn’t,” Flyfang said, half-laughing and batting the tail away. “I was just curious why one would come to Clast, especially now.”

Right, Laurelclaw suddenly remembered, we’re not supposed to know about the rumors. “What, uh, what’s wrong with now?”

“You haven’t heard?” Flyfang gave him an incredulous look. “I thought everyone knew. Redheart’s been talking about leaving the Territory.”

Laurelclaw did his best to look surprised. “Really? Why?”

“Something about ‘being true warriors’ or whatever.” Flyfang dismissively waved a paw. “She’s waiting for more cats to arrive before she has a meeting about it, I guess. Frankly, I don’t know what to make of it until she gives more details, but plenty of newcomers are showing up to check it out. The Clast cats are getting annoyed, if you can believe it.”

“They don’t like that not everyone is here to fight,” Littlepaw half-whispered to Laurelclaw, in a stage voice. “So they’re not too fond of me either.”

“Huh.” Laurelclaw pulled his chin a little towards his chest, thinking. “Strange.”

“They like you just fine,” Flyfang said patiently to Littlepaw. She looked back at Laurelclaw again. “So what are you here for, if not for that?”

“Just-“ Laurelclaw rolled a shoulder as casually as he could. “Just looking for a change of scenery. Maybe, um, maybe not the best place for me to come, though. I’m not much one for fighting.”

“Then why are you a -claw?” Flyfang’s head tilted again. Before Laurelclaw had to answer, she shook her head. “No matter, don’t worry. You’ll get along fine with the newcomers. They’re not all fighters either.”

“Well, that’s good.” Laurelclaw sighed in relief. “I was worried everyone would challenge me. I haven’t really even gone over to get prey in case they did-“

Right on cue, his stomach made a low, threatening growl. He winced a little, but Flyfang simply chuckled and walk close enough to nudge him with a paw.

“Come on, then,” she said. “We were about to eat too. We’ll protect you from the crowd.”

“Much appreciated.” Laurelclaw knew he didn’t really need help, but he was very grateful for it. Flyfang took the lead and started for the prey-pile.

“Oh, Laurelclaw!” Littlepaw took up position beside him as they walked, though she had to trot pretty quickly to keep up with his steps. “You should see some of the cats we’ve met here. There was this one…”

Laurelclaw listened as she started on a story about a tortoiseshell with an underbite, feeling easier by the moment now that he had some proper, mission-separate company.

[vgckwb]

P5R: Rebel Girl (A FeMC Story/P5R Rework) Chapter 13: Friends Helping Friends

“Alright, here we are,” said Ann. She and Ren had arrived at a diner. “This place is great.”

Ren smiled. “I can’t wait.”

“Let’s go!” Ann said.

“Well, it’s another restaurant,” Morgana said.

“Ah, don’t worry. This place is pet friendly” Ann said.

“‘Pet’...” Morgana lamented.

“Well then, I see no reason to delay further,” Ren said. The two of them walked in with Morgana in tow.

After getting food, Ann thanked the waitress and then told Ren “You know, this is actually a pretty good place to study.”

“Really?” Ren asked.

“Totally!” Ann responded.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ren said. She started sipping her drink.

Ann observed. “You’re not your usual self today.”

Ren was taken aback. “What makes you say that?” she asked.

“You just seem off,” Ann said. “You usually seem a little more energetic. Like, even after Kamoshida tried to have his way with you, you were the one who ended up comforting me. Plus, when we first went to that other world, you remained more calm and steady than I did. So, what’s up?”

Ren couldn’t deny anything Ann had said. She sighed. “I’m just worried about Yoshizawa is all.”  Ann looked interested. “She didn’t come to school today. I’m just worried that I didn’t do enough for her. Like I should have done more.”

Ann saw the desperation in Ren’s eyes. Ann took her hand and said ”Ren, listen to me. You did everything you could. You helped her right away when you saw she was in trouble. Unlike me…”

Ren was now concerned with Ann. “What do you mean?”

Ann let go of Ren. “Well… I know Shiho was struggling with Kamoshida for a while. But I felt like I couldn’t do a whole lot. I tried being nice with Kamoshida in order to get him to lay off, but it didn’t seem to work as well as I thought. Not only was Shiho still being targeted, you were targeted as well.”

She slammed her fists on the table. “I feel like such an idiot! I was playing right into his hands. I thought I was doing something good, but instead I think I made things worse. And Shiho, my best friend, is now being manipulated into becoming a murderer.”

Ren looked on. “Ann…”

Ann got up. “But no more! I’m through with playing nice and hoping to get what I want! I need to learn how to fight for it.” She looked at Ren. “And you’ve been teaching me.”

Ren was shocked. “Me?”

Ann nodded. “You’re the type of person who fights for what’s right no matter what! I want to be more like you!”

“Hold on a sec…” Ren said nervously. Ann stopped. “While I appreciate your attitude, maybe just relax a little bit.”

Ann did. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Ann smiled. “But you also need to stop being so hard on yourself. I know you’re worried about Yoshizawa, but you can’t blame it all on yourself. You’ve been doing everything right.” Ann got slightly depressed again.

Ren took Ann’s hand this time. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up either.” Ann looked at her. “The fact that you were trying is a good indication of how much you care.”

Ann smiled. “Why can’t you be this nice to yourself?” The two girls laughed. Ann looked off meaningfully. “Personas are the strength of heart, right?” Ren nodded. “So, if we can strengthen our hearts, our Personas will get stronger, right?”

Ren was puzzled. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. Maybe…”

Ann grinned. “I feel stronger after talking with you about all of this, that’s for sure.”

Ren smiled back. “Likewise.”

“I feel like if we work together, we’ll figure this out for sure” Ann said.

“You may be right,” Ren said.

Lovers-Ann Takamaki: Rank 2.

They finished eating and headed home for the day.

In her pajamas, Ren was lying down on top of the covers sighing. Morgana saw this and said “Lady Ann’s right. You can’t keep beating yourself up for what happened to Kasumi.”

“I know,” Ren said. “I’m just thinking. We have to send a calling card, right?”

Morgana was confused. “Where are you going with this?”

“Well, once we do, we’ll be known,” Ren said.

“We won’t be if you don’t let Ryuji send it” Morgana said sarcastically.

Ren chuckled. “I mean the existence of the Phantom Thieves will be known. When people say ‘The Phantom Thieves’, they’ll at least have a vague idea of what that means, right?”

“Well, that’s the idea…” Morgana said.

Ren went back to staring at the ceiling. “I’m just worried. If I’m struggling with what happened with Yoshizawa, what happens if we fail as the Phantom Thieves? Or if people think we fail? Will I be alright? Will all of you?”

“I see,” Morgana said. “I understand your concern. But you shouldn’t worry about that too much.”

Ren got up. “How come?” she asked.

“Because  ‘failure’ in what we do would result in the death of someone” Morgana said sternly.”If we succeed, things will get better, and if we fail, we know we deserve it. It’s high risk, high reward. However, I’ve witnessed the strength of all of your hearts, and I know you can do this.”

Ren smiled. She picked up Morgana and cuddled him. “Thanks Morgana. You always know just what to say.

“Ack! Put me down!” Morgana said.

Ren let go. “Oh sorry. Do you not like cuddles?”

Morgana was silent for a few moments. “...Just warn me next time.”

“Will do,” Ren said. “Well, good night.”

“Good night,” Morgana said. The two fell asleep.

The next day at school, there was some messaging in the group chat.

Ann: Today’s not good.

Ann: The company I work for just messaged me about a sudden opening.

Ryuji: Really?

Ryuji: Well that stinks.

Ryuji: Still, I think this is a good opportunity.

Ren: ??

Ren: How come?

Ryuji: Well, I was thinking,

Ryuji: When we were in the Meta-thingy, we had to do all sorts of athletic stunts.

Ann: You especially.

Ann: Thanks for walking that tightrope.

Ryuji: Oh. Right.

Ryuji: You’re welcome.

Ryuji: Anyway, as I was saying, being in that other world made me think

Ryuji: I haven’t been keeping up with my workouts since the incident with the track team.

Ryuji: I feel like training a little.

Ryuji: Plus, I think it’ll make me do better over there.

Ann: Huh. I hadn’t thought of that.

Ren: It’s worth a try.

Ren: I might join you.

Ryuji: Uh, OK.

Ryuji: After school? I know a good place.

Ren: Sure.

Ryuji: Sounds great. See ya then.

After school, Ren got changed into her gym clothes and met up with Ruji. “Good, you’re here. Follow me.” Ren followed Ryuji. On their way, Ren got a message from Ann.

Ann: JSYK, I didn’t really have a shoot today.

Ann: I just wasn’t sure if you were ready after everything we talked about yesterday.

Ren: I’m sure Ryuji would understand.

Ann: I dunno…

Ann: He has a tendency to get really into things.

Ren: I can ask him now.

Ren: Hold on.

She looked up. “Hey Ryuji, what would you do if, hypothetically speaking, we were all available to do Phantom Thieves stuff, but we didn’t want to?”

“Huh?” Ryuji answered. “I don’t care. You’re in charge. You call the shots.” 

“I see…” Ren said. She looked down at her phone to see some messages from Ann

Ann: Huh?

Ann: Wait…

Ren giggled.

Ren: Ryuji said it would have been fine.

Ann: Oh. Good.

“Is that Ann?” Ryuji asked. “Was she not up for it? Don’t tell me. Is it her time of the month?” Ren glared.

Ren: He just asked me if it was your time of the month.

Ren: What should I do?

Ann: …

Ann: Smack him with your bag.

Ren: On it.

Ren held her bag with both of her hands. “Morgana, get out.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Morgana said, jumping out.

“Huh? What’s going on?” Ryuji asked. He turned around to see Ren’s bag being smashed in his face, causing him to fall to the ground.

Ren readjusted her bag as Morgana gracefully jumped back in. As Ryuji sat up, Ren took a picture. “That was from Ann.” She sent Ann the picture.

Ann: LOL

Ryuji, still a bit dazed, said “You know what? Fair.”

“Ryuji, you lack tact” Morgana said.

“Shut up you stupid cat” Ryuji said.

“Grrrrr” Morgana hised.

“If you boys are done hurling insults, I would very much like to train” Ren said.

“Huh, oh yeah” Ryuji said. He started to get up. Ren helped him up. “Thanks. Anyways, we’re almost there.”

“Man, he just has a lot of energy,” Morgana said.

“I like that about him,” Ren said. “He comes on a bit strong, but his cheer is infectious. He’s the kind of person who isn’t afraid to be who he wants to be.”

“Hm” Morgana replied. “You know what? You’re right. He’s not bad.”

They reached a spot and Ryuji stopped. “Well, here we are. My secret training spot.” He turned to face Ren. “What do you think?” Ren was shocked. “I know it might not seem like much, but it’s a big area that not a lot of people visit at this time. Perfect for letting loose, ya know?”

“I guess” Ren said.

“OK, so, since this is your first time training, I’ll just give you a few basic exercises and see how you do, OK?” Ryuji said.

“Um, sure,” Ren said.

“OK. Here goes” Ryuji said. He gave off a list of different exercises and Ren did them all with vigor. Once Ren finished, Ryuji said “Hey! Not bad!”

“Thanks,” Ren said, catching her breath.

“Alright, now spot me!” Ryuji said. “You ready?”

“Hang on,” Ren said. She chucked a bottle of water. “Alright, I’m good.”

“Woah” Ryuji said.

“Hm?” Ren asked.

“Ah, nothing,” Ryuji said, blushing. He sighed. “OK, let’s do this!” He did his exercises as well. Once he finished, he ran up to Ren and said “Woo! That felt good. How’d I do?”

Ren was surprised. “You did pretty well,” she said.

“Sweet! How many of each?” Ryuji asked.

“How...many?” Ren asked.

“Yeah” Ryuji said. “Like, you did 5 laps around here in 3 minutes 23 seconds, you did 50 jumping jacks in 55 seconds, you did 40 crunches in one minute 14 seconds…”

“Wait, you’re that good at math?” Ren asked, surprised.

“That’s math?!” Ryuji said, equally surprised. “I thought that was just stat tracking. Like in a video game. How an attack does like 150 damage to this enemy, but to this other enemy it’s only 75.”

Ren was still shocked. “Ryuji, are you sure you’re not good at math?”

“Well, I’m not doing well in it,” Ryuji said.

“I wonder why?” Morgana asked, observing the situation.

“GAH! How long have you been there?” Ryuji said.

“This whole time” Morgana answered. “I just like observing.”

“Hmmm. I might have an idea” Ren said. “Ryuji. I have three apples, Ann has seven apples. How many apples are there between us?”

“Huh? Apples?” Ryuji said. “Uhhhhhh…”

“OK, forget that question,” Ren said. “I do three crunches, and Ann does seven crunches. How many crunches were done?”

“Oh, that’s easy. Ten crunches!” Ryuji said, confidently.

“I don’t believe it,” Morgana said.

“Good job Ryuji!” Ren said. “You just answered both questions.”

“Huh?” Ryuji said.

Ren grinned. “Your problem is you don’t think too well in the abstract. Once it’s put into terms you can understand, you do surprisingly well.”

“Huh” Ryuji said. “So, I’m good at math?”

“Well, in a sense, yes,” Ren said. “But you might want to talk to your teacher about this.”

“OK” Ryuji said. “Um, can you do that un-abstraction thing?”

“No,” Ren said. “But everyone has their own strengths. And when you’re on a team like ours, it’s important to embrace those strengths.”

“Team, huh…” Ryuji said, solemnly.

“Oh, did I say something wrong?” Ren asked.

“Nah” Ryuji said, smirking. “It’s just that, what you said got me thinking. Back when I was on the track team, I was focused on doing what’s right by me. Track isn’t a sport that is team oriented. So, everything I ended up doing was for my own sake. However, I think that’s what got me in trouble.”

Ren was curious. Ryuji continued. “See, when I hit Kamoshida after he told everyone about my home life, I was also thinking about myself. I just wanted revenge in that moment. I was only thinking about my own needs. But track IS a team sport at the end of the day. He dissolved the team after that, and I realized then that I can’t keep being selfish. I still wanna help my mom out, but I also want to help others.

I got so used to thinking that no one would help me or my mom that I never asked if anyone would. The guys on the track team probably would have understood. But now…”

“Now what?” Ren asked.

Ryuji sighed. “Now they’re just mad at me for screwing everything up.”

Ren smiled. “Well, it’s good that you’re learning. And that you want to help others out. Plus, you didn’t go with Shiho’s plan to set the school on fire.”

“Yeah…” Ryuji said. “Still, I wish there was something I could do to make it up to the team.”

“I know that feeling,” Ren said.

Ryuji looked at her. “What do you mean?

Ren was hesitant for a moment. She then relented. “So, the reason I wasn’t up for sending the card, not Ann, is because Yoshizawa hasn’t come to school since she fainted, and I’ve been worried.”

“For real?” Ryuji asked.

“Yeah,” Ren said. “And I feel like there could have been more I could have done to help her. I could have stayed behind. I could have walked her home. But instead I went into the palace with all of you, thinking it would be alright.”

“Holy shit” Ryuji said, taken aback. He put his hand on her shoulder. “Look. I get it. But, it sounds like you did everything you could. You can’t be asked to be the perfect person. I mean, look at us. We’re thieves. We’re far from perfect. But we’re doing the best we can. And sometimes that can be enough.”

Ryuji took his hand off of her. “Like, I’m no saint, but I still try my best so my mom can have it easy. I know how easy it is to blame everything on yourself, but you’re only one person. One person can’t do everything.”

Ren cheered up a little bit. “Thank you Ryuji.” She giggled. “For reminding me that life is a team effort too.”

“Heh heh. No problem” Ryuji said. “We’re thieves together, as well as buddies!”

Chariot-Ryuji Sakamoto: Rank 2

Ryuji and Ren headed home for the day after that.

[bngtanah]

The Difference Between Boys & Girls | o8

summary: Sam & Erin are university students who share a cheap one bedroom apartment above a shitty takeaway restaurant. Due to the limited space, they’ve grown accustomed to sharing just about everything, including the occasional kiss.

pairing: Jung Hoseok (Samuel Park) feat. Park Jimin (Brian Yi)  x Named OC characters: meet the cast.

genre: angst, smut, fluff word count: 8k chapters: o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11| 12| 13| 14 warning: boyfriend!hoseok, jealous!hoseok, painter!jimin, friends to lovers trope, college au, angst, sexual themes, slow burn, arguing, pining, kissing, light groping.

a/n: i am once again asking for your opinions lmao. just so i know if i should continue to put effort into uploading these chapters...

Nearly a week had passed since the blow-up and Brian and Erin still hadn't hadn't spoken face to face.  That wasn't due to a lack of trying, however, especially on Brian's part; he called incessantly, texted her whenever his phone was in his hands and even found the time to email a five-page apology explaining his actions. Everything short of showing up at her apartment which he would have done in a heartbeat if he wasn't so unsure about Erin wanting to see him since she barely picked up his calls or replied to his messages. Her excuse was that she was busy with things and not deliberately ignoring him since she was hardly as angry as she was last week but Brian could tell that she was only telling him a small part of the reason why she was making herself so scarce. 

He had reason to be skeptical but Erin truly had been busy these past few days, her classes may have been on hold for the winter but she still had a job to hold down and extra hours to pick up since she wanted to earn as much as she could during her last winter break from school. Most of her time, though, had been being put into avoiding Sammy who up until last month she would have dropped any and everything to spend time with. Erin assumed life would continue on as normal after their discussion about her fight with Brian and Sammy confirming that she was nothing but a sister to him and basically crushing any and all hopes she had of him taking her against one of the walls of their apartment to small, tiny pieces. Her assumptions couldn't have been any further from the truth, life between Sammy and Erin somehow managed to become awkward and tense in the wake of their non-confession.

Mornings that often consisted of them sharing the duties of making breakfast and light-hearted conversations became nearly silent and filled with boring small talk to fill the dead air until someone could think of an excuse to leave the apartment. In the afternoons when they shared the TV in the living room they took up opposite ends of the couch instead of snuggling closely together and the one time they both accidentally reached for the remote at the same time Sammy flinched back so hard Erin thought he would flip out of his seat. Everything was becoming so confusing to her and the entire situation reeked of deja-vu because Erin was certain they'd gone through and gotten over this exact phase of awkwardness in their teen years. The tension and awkward energy that Erin hated all those years ago settled between them again, and this time, it returned with a vengeance that threatened to only get worse f they continued to ignore the elephant in the room like they were currently doing.

Erin's dazed expression softened when the soft chirp of her cell phone made her pay attention to the world around her again instead of falling further into her own thoughts. She smiled brightly when she read that the message she'd received was from Kasey and not Brian, she really did want to talk to him but there was only so much poetic text messages and elaborately worded apologies she could handle before it started to get annoying. That and she wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to say to him yet. Erin's fingers were working over her digital keyboard so diligently she hardly noticed when Sammy silently sauntered into the kitchen until he opened the fridge and her head snapped up.

"Oh! You startled me."

"Sorry, E" Samuel turned around to respond before immediately putting his head back into the refrigerator when Erin smiled and shook her head.

"That's alright....." She said timidly, "You must have been cold last night, the heater broke down at like one in the morning." Sammy grunted to show that he agreed as he began gathering eggs and other various ingredients.

"I expected to wake up with you next to me this morning," Erin commented with a stilted chuckle. 

She actually waited up for him to join her when she felt the shift in temperature but to her surprise the door never so much as cracked open.

"Oh...well I just used the electronic blanket. It kept me warm enough."

"Cool...cool." Erin nodded slowly, "We could have shared if you want, I know I give you shit about it sometimes but I really don't mind sharing the bed with you."

There was a noticeable pause in both Samuel's response and his movements before he turned around and faced the area where Erin was seated, he was looking down instead of directly at her but it was a start at least. 

"I...don't think we should be doing stuff like that anymore. I mean I know there's nothing behind it but you've got a boyfriend now and he's already getting the wrong idea about our relationship. It would probably be easier if we just didn't do that kind of stuff."

He didn't wait for Erin to agree or disagree with him before turning back to continue making breakfast for himself as if he hadn't just made a decision that involved both of them without even bothering to ask Erin's opinion. If he had he would have known that Erin had no intentions of changing the dynamics of their relationship just because it may have made her boyfriend uncomfortable. He would have known that her friendship with Sammy was currently more important to her than Brian's feelings, it sounded harsh but it was a fact that Erin had no probably admitting. He would have also known that Erin was never going to stop treating Samuel with the same amount of kindness and affection she'd been showing him since they became friends, and what exactly did he mean by 'stuff like that'? Bed-sharing? Casually snuggling up on the couch together? Touching in general? Showing each other any form of genuine affection? Because these were all things that seemed to stop abruptly from Sammy's end since last week and there was no way Sammy could have thought he was making anything "easier".

"Right...well. I should get going I'm filling in for another assistant today and they'll kill me if I'm late again."

Erin showered, got dressed and left for work without saying another word towards her roommate, apart from a barely audible 'See you' as she slipped out the front door and left him vegetating on the couch. Samuel's little proposition was still irritating her but she didn't have the luxury of allowing him to be her sole focus for the rest of the day since covering for a secretary who worked on a different floor involved completing tasks on a schedule that Erin wasn't used to and dealing with people she never had to speak to before. They weren't used to her and she wasn't used to them so it made an already stressful and annoying day even more stressful and annoying. Erin's one moment of reprieve came in the form of a fruit and cookie basket delivered to her office building from someone who only wanted to be identified as 'a fool who is still sorry'.

 She sighed and smiled to herself as she signed for the gift and tried to avoid curious stares of the office ahjummas while she brought it back to her temporary desk. Her lunch break was delayed a few minutes by a copier emergency but once Erin was finally free of her responsibilities she gathered up her gift basket and headed for break room to thank the 'fool' that sent it. 

There were a few seconds of static and shuffling before she could hear his voice clearly as if he'd dropped the phone while trying to answer it "Erin is that you?"

She nodded even though he couldn't see her and grinned at the noticeable inflection in his voice when he said her name. "Yeah, it's me."

"It's good to hear your voice. Did you get the gift basket?"

"I did, I'm eating right now so I wanted to call and say thanks. I also wanted to know if you'd be free tonight? Maybe we could meet after I get off from work?"

"My schedule will always free for you, Erin," Brian said and Erin could tell he was smiling despite not being ale to see him. "Should I come by your apartment?"

"No! Your place isn't that far from where I work so I'll just meet you there, is that okay?"

"Of course, it is. Are you eating now?"

"Mhm"

"Okay...uh." Brian stumbled through his sentence and cleared his throat to shake the nerves from his shoulders before he tried to speak up again. "I'm, um, I'm down the street from your building and...."

"And...?"

"...Can I see you?"

There was a slight rasp of desperation in his voice and Erin found herself unable to shut down his request outright. Even though her mind had been preoccupied with the whole Sammy situation Erin had to admit that other parts of her had missed seeing Brian in the week that she had been avoiding him.

"I would really like to see you Brian, but I only have a few minutes left for lunch and I'm really hungry."

Brian's short laugh was dulcet and surrounded Erin in a warm embrace as she sank back into the chair she was seated in and debated whether or not sneaking downstairs for a few moments would be worth the reprimand. 

"Okay, if I can't see you then can we talk for the rest of your break?"

Erin hummed a 'yes' with her mouth full grapes.

"How has your day been going so far?"

"Ugh, aggravating. I'm covering for someone works on a different floor and I guess my Korean is getting worse because everyone keeps trying to speak to me in English."

Brian chuckled again, "Your Korean is perfect, maybe they just want to practice English?"

"Well they should pay for a tutor, I don't work for free."

They both shared a laugh and for a short moment the uncertainty between them was forgotten, there was still so much that needed to be said from both of them but for the remainder of their conversation, until Erin was reminded for the second time that she wasn't being paid to sit around, things were comfortable and easy. No dead air that neither party knew how to fill or awkward pauses where Erin had to think about what to say next. It was simple and pleasant and exactly what Erin needed. 

Erin managed to hang up and get back to her desk before her temporary supervisor had the chance to sneak up on her again. Her little chat with Brian perked up her attitude and even though her coworkers were still being annoying and halfway mixing English into their requests for no reason, Erin was floating on cloud nine as the hours winded down. The minute the clock passed 6 O'clock she was up and out exiting the building before anyone had the chance to ask her to stay any later. Usually, she would have stopped off at home to change her outfit and see Sammy before heading anywhere else after work but Erin didn't know if she had the stamina to weather another dry conversation with him and she was inexplicably excited to see her boyfriend. Well, boyfriend may have been too heavy of a term for their current status but the ambiguity of their relationship didn't hamper Erin's excitement as she pulled up in the front of Brian's building. 

Her excitement was overcome with nervousness when she noticed him pacing back and forth a few feet away from his door. She chuckled and shook her head from side to side, honestly Erin didn't know why she hadn't expected him to be waiting for her on the street. His hair was disheveled and the orange locks that grazed over his forehead were beginning to fade into a deep auburn that seemed to compliment his skin in a much softer way than the sharp orange.  Erin thanked the driver and adjusted her skirt and blazer as she exited the taxi, as she looked down at her outfit she slightly wished she had gone home to change into something cuter but it was much too late for that. 

Brian's expression lit up when his head swiveled in Erin's direction, much like a lost puppy being reunited with it's family after a long absence. He remained silent, they both did, not saying anything as they both slowly moved toward each other until they were toe to toe and face to face with apprehensive smiles spread across both of their lips. 

"Hey you," Erin was the first to speak and twiddle her thumbs together.

"Hi," Brian answered and shoved his hands into his pockets, exhaling a breath he had been holding in since he first saw her step out of the cab.

Erin nodded a few times and pressed her lips together tightly, she had role-played exactly how she wanted this conversation to go on the ride over but being here in the moment made everything she had in mind to say seem totally wrong.

"So, uh. I know I've been kind of distant lately" Erin started off "And I really didn't mean to be, I've just been thinking about a lot of things lately and I needed some time to mull over things by myself."

Brian ducked his head and caught Erin's gaze, making her look up at him while she continued speaking.

"I was really upset by what you said at that moment- and I know that you're sorry about it, you don't have to say it anymore," She interjected when Brian opened his mouth undoubtedly to apologise again. "But once I had some time to think about it I realised that I may have overreacted a little bit. Sammy and I are very close and we have been for so long I guess I'm just so accustomed to our friendship that I don't understand how it could be perceived in the wrong way. So I'm sorry for not seeing things from your perspective, that wasn't fair of me."

Brian smiled, warmly and broadly as he pulled his hands out of his pockets and gingerly stroked Erin's arms, drawing her closer to his body slowly until she was completely pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around her lithe frame tightly.

"Thank you," He muttered into Erin's hair and giggled softly when a few curly locks tickled his nose as he inhaled her perfume. 

Her arms encircled his waist and Erin snuggled her face deeply into his upper body as he laughed, the vibrations that rumbled beneath his chest and trembled her cheek made her chuckle and look up.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Your hair, it tickles me," Brian answered and pushed a few curls away from her forehead then grazed his palm against her cheek and cradled her jaw in one of his hands. The laughter in his tone tapered off as his thumb lightly brushed over Erin's bottom lip and the heat beneath her skin flared up. "Erin?"

"Yeah?" She breathed.

"Can I kiss you?"

Erin nodded quickly and the grip on he had on her jaw tensed as Brian brought her face forward until their lips connected and Erin found herself physically restraining from moaning right there on the public sidewalk. Her fingertips pressed deeply into his hips as their heads tilted to opposite sides to allow them to deepen the kiss and when the tip of his tongue tentatively swiped over her bottom lip Erin definitely lost the battle of remaining silent so not to draw any more attention to them from anyone passing by. A soft and sultry moan purred at the back of Erin's throat when she felt his teeth playfully tug against her lip, Brian mirrored her enthusiasm and gently massaged his tongue against her own. When she felt his hands move downward from her jaw and completely bypass the rest of her body to place a firm grip on her hips Erin instantly pressed her hands against his chest to put the breaks on their make-out session and bring them both back to reality. Brian looked confused at first but it only took a few seconds for him to remember where they were which made him blush and bury his face into Erin's neck.

"Sorry," He chuckled but still playfully nibbled on Erin's skin before picking up his head to catch her eyes "I just missed you."

"I missed you too," Erin answered, and she honestly had missed him; especially kissing him. "But that reminds me I wanted to talk to you about something else." 

"O-okay, well let's go inside." 

"I don't think that's such a good idea," She chuckled and grabbed his hand, "Why don't we take a walk?"

Brian nodded, intertwined their fingers and began leading them in the opposite direction of his studio. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Us," Erin stated simply then pressed her head against his shoulder, "I think we should start taking things between us a little slower. I don't regret sleeping with you but during my reflection I kind of realised that we don't really know that much about each other and I would like to see where things go with you so we should put more effort into getting to know each other better instead of kissing. Even though you're really good at it."

Brian laughed and nodded when she was finished speaking "I understand that," he replied once he stopped chuckling, "I think that's a good idea but um, does that mean no more kissing?"

"No, we can still kiss. But no more sex, for now."

"Aw," Brian pouted and Erin swatted his shoulder. "I can agree to that. We can start now, I've been wondering what you plan on doing when you graduate."

"We haven't talked about that?" Erin asked and Brian shook his head "Oh, I want to be an English professor. I know it's kinda cliché being a foreigner and everything but I really enjoy teaching."

"Have you taught before?"

"Not by myself but my mom used to teach English for a few years when I was in high school and I would help her out with her classes sometimes, like a teacher's assistant. There's something so unfathomably satisfying about watching someone learn something, I love that feeling. It's actually kind of funny because I used to hate going to work with my mom, her kids were so...curious."

Brian grinned and glanced over at Erin, he enjoyed the way her eyes appeared to light up whenever she mentioned teaching, "Curious or nosy?"

"Both? They were more curious than nosy in the beginning. I remember the very first day I came to help grade papers a little girl who probably couldn't have been more than 6 or 7 asked me why I was so dark if my mom was white and I honestly did not know what to tell her. You've never seen my mom but she has really fair skin for a black person and she keeps her hair straight so all of her kids thought that she was white and that I was adopted or lying about being her daughter." Erin laughed "And annoying as that was I think that made me realise that I wanted to teach for the rest of my life. Some of the kids that my mom taught had never seen someone that looked like me before or read any of the books that we went over, but for the short time that they were with me their horizons were broadened and they realized that there's a big world out there that extends beyond their town or city. I don't know, I just like the thought of that.

"That's so compassionate, you're going to make a great teacher. You're graduating in few months right?"

Erin nodded.

"Do you know where you're going to be working?"

"No" She sighed dramatically and hunched her shoulders downward "Well that's not true, there's an international school in Busan that offered me a position but I want to stay in the city, I've gotten accustomed to being so close to Seoul I don't want to give it up. I have been looking, though, so hopefully someone in the city will be willing to take a chance on me. I feel like I've been talking about myself for hours tell me something about you; why did you become an artist?"

"Oh my story isn't really interesting" Brian deflected with small grin "My grandmother was a painter and she took care of me a lot since my parents worked a lot, some of my best memories are of me sitting on her lap watching her put strokes on a canvas that eventually turned into beautiful works of art. I've always been a creative person but if it wasn't for my grandmother and her encouragement I probably would have just ended up working for my father's company."

"That's sweet, she must be so proud of you now."

"She was....she was my biggest fan until she died a few years ago." 

Erin frowned and rested her free hand against his arm, "I am so sorry."

"It's okay, I've come to terms with it now. She's been the inspiration for a lot of my pieces so I feel like that's her way of watching over me."

Erin nodded and squeezed his hand between her palm for reassurance. They continued their leisurely stroll with light conversation since the mood had become decidedly more solemn after Brian spoke about his grandmother. Erin informed him about what she'd been up to in the week she was avoiding him, which hadn't been much more than working and stressing about her exam results. Brian apparently had a gallery showing coming up at the end of the year that was taking up quite a lot of his time and he inadvertently mentioned that he had skipped a meeting with the art director tonight so that he could be with Erin. Which, of course, made Erin stop in her tracks and convince him to leave and reschedule his meeting while he still had the chance to.

"Brian, I'm serious you should go. I can get home by myself."

"But I-"

Erin grabbed his cheeks and pulled his face close to her own "Don't worry about me, or us I'm not mad at you anymore but I will be if you lose this opportunity just to hold hands with me," She pecked him on the lips then backed away. "Go."

Brian obviously had more he wanted to say but it was clear that Erin wasn't backing down since she was already calling a taxi, so he exhaled and admitted defeat. "Call you tomorrow?" He asked with a quick kiss on her cheek.

"I'll try to pick up" She joked and waved goodbye once he was darting back in the direction of his studio with his cell-phone already pressed to his ear.

There was an unusual amount of traffic in Brian's part of town so it took nearly an hour for Erin to get home but was she was her shoes came flying off and her jacket and blazer were both peeled off her shoulders and pooled on the floor near the front entrance. She could hear the sounds of the television before she even saw Sammy sitting on the couch being mesmerized by the box, he was still dressed in the sweats and t-shirt she'd left him in this morning which seemed unusual.

"You didn't go to work today? I thought you were on the schedule," Erin asked as she flopped down on the couch.

"I wasn't," He responded, offering Erin a small lazy smile as she sank down into the cushions a few seats away from him.

Then it was silent again, background noise from the TV made it only slightly less awkward but Erin still felt like peeling her own skin off just to give them something to talk about.

"I think I'm going to bed" She yawned after a few more seconds of unbearable stillness "Have a good night Sam."

Samuel grunted as she got up, still staring at the TV. His hand reached to the side to grab her wrist once she standing, his hold on her wrist was delicate and somewhat modest as if the was the first time he'd ever touched her and that made Erin raise an eyebrow in question.

"Don't forget we have rehearsal for the showcase tomorrow, don't sleep in."

"Yeah, I remembered" Erin agreed and Sammy released her wrist.

"Good night Erin."

Sweaty skin and the sound of overlapping gasps for air made the atmosphere humid in the small, cramped studio that Erin and Sammy currently occupied. Heavy droplets of sweat rolled down Sam’s neck and glided over his chest, making the thin fabric of his tank top cling to his taut skin as he cinched his arms around Erin’s waist in a hold so tight Erin wondered if she would be able to breathe. She answered his action by looping one of her arms around, the other securely gripping his shoulder as her right leg slowly inched upwards against his thigh. For just a moment the music playing softly in the background paused leaving the studio devoid of any sound other than Erin and Samuel's breath mingling until Erin made the foolhardy mistake of making eye contact with Sammy, which caused him to choke on his own spit and stumble backward - bringing Erin down to the ground with him.

"Sammy what the hell!" She exclaimed, clamoring to get up. 

“Sorry,” Sammy muttered from beneath her “I-I lost my footing.”

Erin knew he was lying but didn't point it out, she scoffed as he once again tried to avoid looking at her directly, this time whipping his head in the opposite direction when she rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever,”  Erin grumbled, “Can we just get this done so I can go?”   Erin was well passed the point of trying to make Sammy behave normally with her, he had become more and more reclusive, secretive and just plain weird over the past few days. All her attempts at communication were ignored and honestly Erin was just too annoyed to try anymore. It hurt her, naturally, Sammy was and still remained a very large part of her life and even the idea of him refusing to have a real conversation with her made her throat tight. But she couldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to do and Erin was slowly beginning to accept that. Perhaps their friendship had just run it’s course.

“Y-yeah, I’ll start the song again” Sammy replied while pushing himself to his feet. He brushed past Erin slowly enough for her to notice the small bruise starting to form on his bicep. Without really thinking, Erin reached out to stop him and gently ran her fingertips over the small area of his skin that was beginning to turn colour. It was a simple action, only meant to show concern for the pain he was probably experiencing, but the way Samuel reacted to her touch one would have thought that Erin had stabbed him in the back. He flinched tremendously and took a giant step backward to create an ample amount of space between them. This was the last straw.

“Ok, that’s it. What the fuck is going on with you?” Erin yelled and moved forward, completely ignoring his attempt to back away from her.

“What are you talking about-? Nothing’s wrong.” Samuel squeaked in response, eyes shifting to the side.

“Don’t lie to me Sam, you’ve been sulking around the apartment and jumping out of your skin every time I so much as look at you. If nothing's going on with you then why are you acting so weird?”

Sammy parted his lips to deny her suspicions again but Erin narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips tightly together, making him rethink the lie he was about to tell her and forcibly sigh instead.

“I don’t know if I should tell you...” he finally muttered, making Erin raise and eyebrow.

“Tell me what?”

He looked away from her again, this time in order to wrap his knuckles around the circumference of a nearby barre. Erin was growing less annoyed and more concerned the longer they stood in science, she could tell that whatever he had neglected telling her was still weighing heavy on his conscience.

“I-I…..I dropped out of college a few weeks ago” Sammy answered after taking a few deep breaths. Erin’s expressions shifted almost instantly, her eyebrows that had been knitted together in anger were now raised as highly as they could go and her jaw was completely slack.

“You….did...what?” She queried in a horrified whisper.

Erin always believed that Sammy and his siblings were lucky to grow up with such easy-going parents compared to her other Korean friends. She had heard much too many horror stories from her former classmates about their parents setting unrealistically high goals for them when it came to their education and plans for the future. Sammy’s parents didn’t seem to have quite the same viewpoint. Of course, they cared about their boys having a quality education but the strive for knowledge and thirst to be number one would never come before their mental health and happiness.

As easygoing as they were, however, it was always an unspoken expectation that their children would attain a degree. It didn’t matter what they majored in but there was just no way you could be a member of the Park household and not go to college. Or even worse, get into to a university and drop out halfway through. Erin suddenly understood why her roommate had been such a tool to live with lately, he was going through a life-changing crisis and she didn’t even know.

“Have you lost your mind?! Why would you drop out of college?”

“I never want to be an engineer E!” He shot back “I knew on my first day that it wasn’t for me but I pushed through because I thought it would get better, but that feeling only got worse and worse until one day I just snapped. I felt like I was on the brink of having a meltdown so just packed all my shit up and ran out of class.” 

He was mumbled through his entire explanation, bottom lip quivering and the moisture in his eyes daring to betray him and fall any second if he kept speaking; which made Erin tear up immediately. In her heart, she felt that this was quite possibly the stupidest decision he’d ever made but it wouldn’t be right for her to tell him that. Not now, anyway.

“Sam,” Erin said softly, reaching upwards to place her palm against his cheek so that he was looking at her “Sammy why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you work through this.”

Sam sighed sharply and shook his head “That’s exactly why I didn’t say anything to you.  You’ve known exactly what you wanted to do with your life since, what? Middle School? You had your reasons to push through the rough patches but what do I have? I don’t care enough about being an engineer to put myself through that Erin, I just won’t do it.”

A huff of air passed through Erin’s parted lips as she stared upwards into her best friends eyes. They were wet and still a little red from the possibility of him crying but they never wavered. He was serious about this and Erin was sure that no amount of lecturing on her behalf would make him change his mind. So she didn’t say anything else, she lowered her hands so that they met each other and locked behind his back and smothered her face into his chest. He was still hesitant to be so close to her, it seemed, but after a few moments he returned the gesture and pulled Erin flush against him like he always did when they hugged. Adding a tender kiss on the top of Erin’s head for flourish.

“Thank you for not calling me an idiot,” Sammy said sheepishly.   “That doesn’t mean I’m not thinking it” Erin muttered in a low tone “But if you really feel like you have to do this then I have to support you. Have you told your parents yet?”

“Uh. No, not yet. I planned on surprising them a visit during Christmas and hoping that I work up the nerve to tell them by New Years.” Sammy bit his lip, “You should come with me.”

Erin frowned “I can’t….I’ve been planning this huge party at our apartment for the holidays. And Brian’s has been hinting that he may be taking me somewhere for Christmas.” She dropped the last part of her sentence in quickly, weirdly hoping that Sammy wouldn’t notice.

He did, obviously, and frowned just like Erin thought he would.

“But we should do something before you go!” She added with excitement “Maybe I can move the party up, instead of a holiday party it can be….’liberation’ themed. Since I’m graduating and you’ve kicked off the shackles of higher education.”

Sammy chuckled but shook his head, “You don’t have to do that, I don’t want to ruin your party plans.” 

“Oh please, what plans?” Erin scoffed “All you need for a fun party is good liquor and fun people, I already have both of those things.”

Sammy pretended to think it over, tossing his head from side to side in thought before ultimately flashing Erin that infamous megawatt smile she’d been missing more than she realized. “The liquor better be really good.”

“All you do is drink until you pass out anyway would you even be able to tell the difference?” Erin teased. 

They were still wrapped in each other's arms gazing at one another after their shared laughter died down and Sammy smoothed his hand against Erin’s hair with a serious smile.

“You’re my best friend, do you know that?” He asked a question they both knew the answer to.

“Of course I do, you’re mine too Sammy” Erin retorted with a quirked eyebrow.

“Am I? I feel like I’ve been pushing myself out of that spot lately.”

“You have been weird but… I mean, who could ever replace you?”

“Your boyfriend for one,” He replied quickly, without any trace of sarcasm.

Erin inadvertently rolled her eyes as a tight-lipped smile overtook her lips, “Boyfriends have always come and gone, but...you and I are forever Sammy. I don’t ever want you to think otherwise.”

The look in Samuel’s softened then, almost like he had something to get off his chest in response to Erin’s reassurance. His train of thought was derailed, however, when a series of short knocks echoed throughout the studio space; making them both snap their heads toward the door where Kasey was waiting with a smug smile plastered on her face. 

“Is that Kasey-?” Sammy stuttered before Erin screeched so loud that it made him jump out of his skin.

“I completely forgot you were picking me up today!”

“Obviously, ” Kasey snickered under her breath “Come on if your coming, I don’t have all day!”

“Ugh, I gotta go, Sam, we can talk more when I get home right?” Erin said as she pulled away from his arms and jogged to the out the open door. Samuel nodded and waved as Erin gathered all her belongings and disappeared behind the closed studio door.

“So are you going to tell me what the hell that was about?” 

Kasey and Erin were currently in the middle of a reasonable sized underground clothing store spending much more money than either of them originally planned to. Erin was at least five feet away from where her friend was standing, so Kasey’s question confused her at first.

“What?”

“You, Sam. Basically, eye fucking the shit out of each other in that hot ass studio? I thought you said he was a ‘you’ diet.” Kasey clarified.

“Oh, well that was nothing,” Erin said with a flick of her wrist to dismiss Kasey’s assumptions “He was just explaining why he’s been acting so weird lately. He’s been....stressed.”

“So naturally you two start coiling around each other like a pair of horny snakes, I guess this means you two are back to normal?”

“Honestly I don’t even know what normal is for us anymore...”

Kasey pursed her lips and stretched her arms across the clothing rack she was currently browsing, giving Erin a rare look of actual concern. “Y’know I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Erin.”

“I’m not buying you any more clothes today, use your own money” Erin answered without looking at her.

“I’m being serious, look at me for a second” Kasey beckoned “When are you going to move out? You graduate in couple months and I know you’ve been making enough to live on your own for a while, don’t you think it’s time.”

Erin shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and clutched the blouse in her hands a little tighter. Moving into her own place was a decision she had been wrestling with for a while. In theory, it would be nice to have her own place again, Sammy wasn’t the cleanest person to live with and it the thought of being able to have certain guests over without worrying about offending her roommate was tempting. But even with all those positives Erin honestly couldn’t bare to think about having to live without Sammy, their lives were so intertwined now that just the thought of living somewhere without him was crippling.

“I’ve thought about it...”

“Which means you haven’t made any plans to move out, have you?”

“I can’t just leave Sammy high and dry, Kasey” Erin grumbled, “I know you don’t like him but have a heart.”

Kasey rolled her eyes and groaned loudly “Girl, who the hell said I don’t like him? I’ve been trying to push you two together since I met you, I just want you to start thinking about the future. How long do you think you can play house with your high school bestie?”

“I don’t know.”

Erin had been a nervous wreck for most of the day, as time crept forward she wondered whether throwing a house party in her apartment that she felt cramped in sometimes was the best idea. Once she got over the initial stress of actually planning a large gathering on such short notice, then preparing her house for said party Erin could honestly say she was looking forward to it.

So as she glided around the small crowd in her living room chatting with people she hardly knew that well and making sure no one was making a mess of her place Erin would not be lying if she said she was having a good time. A damn good time actually. She had managed to maneuver her and Sammy’s old futon and random furniture in ways that left a bit more space for a makeshift dance floor in front of the fireplace but also made it easy to pop in and out of the kitchen when she needed to. Which she had needed to do many times tonight considering that’s where everyone decided to drop off their random bottles of alcohol. There were enough bottles lining the counters to send all of her guests to an early grave but they didn’t seem to mind.

Least of all Sammy, who was spending more time in the kitchen than anywhere else that night.

“Yah, Sam! Are you just going to stay here all night, this party is for you” Erin yelled over the music “Mostly.”

Sam chuckled and took another sip of the liquid in his hands, his gaze dragging slowly from Erin’s feet to the top of her head. She wasn’t dressed in any particular appealing way, a knit dress that was too thin to wear outside during the winter and a pair of simple black flats. It was nothing, really, but Sammy couldn’t help but find her absolutely stunning no matter what.

“I’m easing my way into party mode, it’s still early” He offered in response.

“Is that so? Because to me, it looks like you’re hiding.”

“I’m just….I’m still a little freaked out I guess, I don’t have a job. I know my dad is going to fucking kill me when I tell him-”

Erin held up her hands wrapped her palm around Sam’s mouth to stop his verbal vomit.

“None of that tonight,” She pouted “You can start worrying again tomorrow but I want you to have fun tonight, so drink this-” Erin handed him the mixed drink in her hand, “And then come and dance with me, your song is on!”

The song playing was a seductive bass driven track designed to get people on the dance floor and Erin knew it was one of many that made Sammy move uncontrollable. Sammy snickered and muttered a soft ‘Fine’ into the cup before swallowing it’s contents and letting himself be dragged out of the kitchen. A few of their mutual friends cheered when he stepped onto the dance floor, knowing that he was known for putting on a show whenever his jam came on. But he surprised them all when instead of heading straight for the center of the floor he stepped off to the side and took Erin along with him, hold her back to his front as he swayed along to the beat until the pair fell into a rhythm. Their hips swaying, dipping and rolling in unison to the heavy bass line of the song.

Erin felt self-aware at first but soon she found herself becoming lost in their movement, she felt his hands securing their place on his hips, gripping her, almost possessively she was lost in Sammy's silent but deliberate seduction behind her. Not to be outdone, Erin wound her hips and bent her knees in time with the song, slowly but surely burying Sammy’s crotch tighter and tighter into her backside. She rested her back against his chest and curved her arm around to hook behind his neck. On instinct he bent down and nuzzled her neck and even with the loud music, he could felt the vibration of a moan buzz beneath her skin. He wanted to lick her, bite her, kiss her, anything to sate the desire he felt coursing through him. But that wouldn’t be right she had a boyfriend and he was sure any tentative bridge he had built to crossover from just being the best friend was burned when he convincingly proclaimed that she was nothing more than a sister to him.

Erin didn't seem interested in remembering her boyfriend or the friendship they’d spent years cultivating.She pushed his face further into her neck until he finally opened his mouth and sucked her skin. She hissed and encouraged him to continue when she threaded her fingers into his hair and lightly scratched his scalp. He held her lips tighter and thrust against her from behind and she moaned again. He continued to suck her skin, then kissed his way down to where her shoulder and neck met. He bit that spot and Erin gasped and actually stopped moving for a moment. "Don't stop," he whispered in her ear causing her to shiver and then resume her movements. Sammy’s hands left her hips and slid down her sides where they were met with the bare skin of her thighs. He gripped the flesh there before inching his hands up little by little, until one of them disappeared underneath her the hem of her dress. He skimmed her inner thigh and felt a tiny scrap of fabric that he assumed was a thong. The mental image of that made him groan. Erin stopped dancing again and she looked at him over her shoulder. They locked eyes and Sammy waited for her to tell him to stop.

She didn't.

And he just wasn't strong enough to stop himself. So instead of taking her against the wall of their apartment like every cell in his body was telling him to; Sammy grabbed Erin’s hand and swiftly guided her away from the crowd and into their sometimes shared bedroom where he immediately pinned Erin against the door.

“I can’t do this anymore.” He groaned in a hoarse whisper, then turned around, distraught as ever and Erin felt an immediate wave of regret wash over her.

“Do what?”

“This. Us.” He pointed a finger between the two of them. “Sit here and pretend that it doesn’t kill me to know that someone else is touching you the way I want to. I can’t stop thinking about you, Erin.” Erin wasn’t sure if she was hearing him correctly over the driving bass that made their bedroom door vibrate each time the beat dropped. She’d had dreams that started out this same way and honestly thought she was dreaming at that moment, then his hands were on her hips and the world around her stopped spinning. Her heart skipped a beat before it began to throb, ache, with the desire to have Sammy’s body pressed against her just like it was at that moment. Sam’s kiss was sudden and careless, slightly alarming, but so long-awaited that Erin felt lightheaded the moment their lips touched. Her arms lifted subtly from her sides, reached for Sam, grasping for any part of him she could find in the dark and pulled him even closer to her small frame while her lips moved over his in an unbridled fashion.

One of her treacherous hands moved to push his flimsy shirt upward when his hand curled beneath her thigh, but Erin caught herself before it reached it’s destination. She snapped her head back and look at Sammy, her eyes wide. 

"We shouldn’t be doing this...We’re drunk and not thinking straight” Erin slurred as she tried to catch her breath and settle her her heart which was beating wildly within her rib cage. 

“I’m not drunk,” Sam replied in a gentle whisper, cradling her chin in his hands “Are you drunk?”

“...No.” Erin admitted after a moment's pause. She wanted to blame her momentary lapse in judgment on being too impaired to know better but Erin was only buzzed at the most. She had nothing to blame her poor decisions on but her own weak will and the years of pent up tension that allowed her to effectively cheat on the man she was currently dating, without even a second thought. 

“Don’t you think we should talk about this Sam?” She queried, the tips of her fingers dancing along Samuels’ pulse.

“I don’t wanna talk right now E,” Was his answer and then his lips were in their rightful place again. The more Erin thought about it the more she wanted to say ‘to hell with talking’, they could figure out what this meant for their friendship tomorrow. 

Or never. 

Which is why, instead of unlocking the door and going back to the party like she knew she should, Erin found herself gripping the cloth of Sam’s shirt again and bringing him down to her lips yet again. She kissed him slowly, this time, taking her time to explore just how kissing Samuel after all these years made her feel.

It was exhilarating, as their lips connected and soon the kiss deepened, Sam’s hips pressing into her core and Erin found a more primal side of herself awaken from slumber. That feeling absolutely terrified her. She popped her lips off Sammy’s for the second time that night and backed away from him “Shit, Sammy I’m sorry. I jus-I can’t do this right now” she gasped loudly and moved to fumble with the door until she got it to unlock. Using all her strength she pulled the door open, pushed Sam against the back of it and headed straight into the center of the crowd.

a/n: the next two chapters are a bit short so I may end of combing them like I did with this one. we’ll see!

[something-tofightfor]

Billy Russo: NSFW Alphabet

Here it is. This took me a LONG ASS TIME to finish... and it’s the first NSFW Alphabet that I have ever completed... so I took my time on it, and was very, VERY thorough. 

This is VERY 1000000% TOTALLY NSFW. 

Do not read this if you’re under 18. This is not for you. There is some mild BDSM content included here, and some potential triggers... if you’re concerned, feel free to message me and I can tell you what’s going on before you decide to read. 

Everything’s under the cut because I literally cannot help myself and started things out smutty as hell. 

This is Billy as I imagine him in the He’s Not Here universe. 

... oh, and um, enjoy K. 

Rating: NSFW 

Word Count: 8972 (I told you I was thorough.) 

Disclaimer: I don’t own the character of Billy Russo, but I wish I did.This is all still in reference to the man Billy is before Season 2 of Daredevil and Season 1 of The Punisher. 

Tagging:  @banditthewriter @breanime @obscurilicious @padfootagain @madamrogersstorytelling @ooo-barff-ooo @agent-bossypants @suchatinyinfinity @chibiyanai @songtoyou @doneobrien @diorskisses @editboutique @marauderskeeper @drinix @delicatelilyflower @ilkaeliseb @snek-shit @personthatlovesshippings @httpfandxms @ghostssss

A=Aftercare - What they do/act like after sex

For most people, after sex, Billy shuts down. He doesn’t cuddle, doesn’t like excessive touching, and has no interest in small talk. He completed the mission, and it’s time to move on. He won’t kick women out of bed in the middle of the night, but if he’s ended up at a woman’s place, he usually (although not always - if he enjoyed himself, he’ll spend the night and go for round two in the morning before he leaves) finds a reason to leave.

With you, though, Billy’s a little different. You’ve earned his trust and his friendship, and that means that you get to curl up in bed next to him, his arm around your waist. He likes it when you run your fingers through his hair as you both calm down. He’s not romantic about it, but he never fails to tell you just how great you feel when your muscles clench around him, or how fucking good you looked beneath or on top of him.

B=Bondage - Are they into BDSM, and how far they’ll go if they have a green light

Billy likes restraining you, but he’s not 100% into being held back with anything more restrictive than one of his ties or your scarves… or your hands. Even though he’s much stronger than you, he’s willing to let you hold his wrists down while you’re riding him. He learned to tie knots during his service time, and loves to show off his skills… but what he really wants to try is tying your hands together above your head and fucking you while you’re standing. He’s strong enough to support your body weight with one arm, leaving the other free to explore every inch of your exposed skin.

Also, he convinced you to let him blindfold you once while your wrists were tied and now every time you smell his cologne - even on other men - you can’t help but get a little lightheaded… or resist the urge to press your thighs together.

C=Cum - pretty self explanatory

Billy hates feeling dirty or sticky, but he makes an exception - sometimes - when you’ve worn each other out. Not through the night, he always has to get up and clean himself (and you) off before he’ll let either of you fall asleep. Typically, though, since he is very careful to always wear a condom during sex, things aren’t that messy… but if you get a little too excited and he has to pull out before he comes, or you’ve decided to use your hands or mouth on him? You’ll get to feel his hands stroking over every inch of your skin as he cleans you up to his satisfaction.

D=Dom - Are they dominant, submissive, a switch?

Billy Russo is as dominant as they come - and loves to give you orders, which you are more than happy to follow. There’s something about listening to him barking out commands - “Sit down. Spread your legs.” - that makes you weak in the knees. But he doesn’t give you time to dwell on what he says, because once he gets going, there’s no stopping him. It only takes four words - “Get over here. Now.”  - and you’re lost to him… but he doesn’t like to take complete control every time you’re together, because it’s more fun to be spontaneous.

E=Experience

Even though Billy’s been with many women, (you’ve never asked for an exact number and wouldn’t dream of it) and knows exactly what to do to your body to set it on fire, it still took you two a few tries to fall into the perfect rhythm.  His prior experience had been with women who were all too willing to fall straight into his bed without any context, and because he’d actually known you and wanted to make sure things were different, the experience he had almost didn’t matter because your first time wasn’t quick and dirty - he took his time with you. The one thing though, that you’re sure of is that all of his prior experience has made it possible for him to delay his own pleasure for longer periods of time in order to ensure that you’re thoroughly satisfied.

F=Fantasy - A fantasy of theirs (ex: a teacher/student fantasy)

Laying in bed with Billy one night, his cheek resting on your bare chest, you’d asked him what his ultimate fantasy was. He rolled over, turning his head to look at you. “No one wants to know what my fantasies are.” He raised his eyebrows, smirking. “They just want me to fulfil theirs.” You laughed, telling him that you really wanted to know, that you couldn’t make it happen unless you knew where to start. “Alright. You really want to know?” You nodded, your nails raking across his scalp as you smoothed his hair back. “It’s pretty simple. I want to fuck someone in a place that means something to me - that’s a symbol of my success.” You frowned, and he continued. “Not my apartment, that’s boring… but somewhere else. The facility?” You knew he was referring to the building he wanted to rent for the company he was planning to start. “On the training mats, or on the equipment… maybe even using some of the equipment” His eyes had darkened. “And then, that way, every time I look at it or use it, I’ll know.No one else will, but I will.” He licked his lips. “It’d be a good memory, enough to get me through the hard days.” Though you were surprised that he hadn’t done that yet, hadn’t brought a woman to his office, or been with anyone in a public place like that, he wrinkled his nose and shook his head, beard scratching against your skin when you voiced your response. “I like to keep my personal life and my professional life separate, never wanted to take anyone there. Well, I did… but there just wasn’t… anyone worthwhile.”

You’d been almost asleep later that night when he spoke again, leaning over to kiss you just beneath the ear. “My real fantasy, though?” He whispered the words and you didn’t move, didn’t respond because you knew that if he had any indication that you could actually hear him, or that you were awake that he wouldn’t continue. “My real fantasy is someone being capable of loving me for what I am, not what I can give them.” He settled back into his pillows on his side, one arm going over your waist. “I might even be able to care for them, too.”

G=Got Caught - How they react when they get caught having sex

Billy’s not shy about his sexual encounters, and he’s actually been caught plenty of times. Quickies in bathrooms, hooking up in the coatroom of a restaurant, some girl going down on him in his car… none of it phases him, because Billy is 100% totally unashamed about sex and about what it means… because it’s just for pleasure and release, and there’s not much emotion behind it for him. Does he enjoy it? Of course… but to Billy, it’s not something that should be hidden, because sex is just that: an act. Yeah, his face turns a little red and he might get a bit annoyed if someone catches him in a compromising position… but he’s still more than capable of finishing even when he knows there’s a captive audience.

Except with you. He doesn’t want anyone else to see you with his hands on your body, doesn’t want anyone else to get an eyeful of you when the two of you are being intimate - because that’s for him and no one else. He’s not against touching you in public, teasing you with a hand on your lower back or resting on the curve of your ass - or even lower, when his fingers brush against the backs of your thighs beneath your skirt-  but as soon as he thinks that someone might be watching, it’s back to business as usual, and you’ve gotta wait til the time is right for him to finish what he’s started.

H=Hot Spots - A place that drives them crazy when stimulated

Billy’s got a lot of these spots, and you’ve had the pleasure of finding them for yourself.

For example:

He’s got a thing about his neck. He loves it when you run your fingers through his beard, scraping your nails against his skin. He loves it even more, though, when you use your teeth and tongue on the same area, moving up from his Adam’s apple toward his jawline. He’ll throw his head back and moan your name, digging his fingers into the skin of your back or shoulders, depending on your position.

Billy also thoroughly enjoys when your hands are on his hips and your fingers move to that perfect V of well defined muscles. Not only does you tracing circles against his skin soothe him, it tells him that something even better is about to happen. Though you’d be content to have your fingers against his skin for hours, Billy’s impatience usually leads to sex quite quickly, and then he’s totally fine with you going back to touching him once you’ve finished.

One final thing? Billy gets weak in the knees if you’re holding hands and you use your thumb to draw on his palm. It happened one night at dinner when you were out with Frank and Maria, and ever since, it’s been your “in public” go-to move ever since, and you know that a few swipes of your thumb get him hard as hell.

I=Intimacy - How romantic they are, or can be, before, during, or after sex

Intimacy with Billy isn’t the same as it is with other men, because even though he’s romantic in the sense that he anticipates what you want and need, it’s more about the friendship that you’ve built with him. He’s good with dates - remembers your birthday, the day you met, etc… but he’s not about grand gestures, at least when it comes to proving his feelings. To Billy, intimacy means honesty - and when he opened up about his past with you, that was more intimate than the previous hours he’d spent inside of you or with his mouth on you.

J=Journey - Their ideal way of leading up to sex.

Billy likes to toy with you, but you know that pretty much anything can (and will) result in sex. The lead up is almost as good as the main event; Billy’s good at getting your attention, but it’s not like he does anything out of the ordinary. It’s the small things, the subtle things that he does to work you up, to get you to notice him - as if you could ever ignore him.

It starts with the looks he gives you, one eyebrow raised across the table (or sitting next to you at the bar or on the couch), the way that his tongue doesn’t ever seem to stay in his mouth for very long… it’s always making its way across his lips, poking out between his teeth as he laughs or smiles. It gets more intense when you notice his fingers moving against each other; sometimes with flat palms, other times lacing together as if he’s stretching them out (...and those fingers get very dexterous when they’re ready to go).

From there, it’s all about the eye contact. Billy’s a master at giving you bedroom eyes… especially when you’re out in public; that smoldering look from deep within eyes that are so dark you can’t tell where the iris ends and the pupil begins - but when he’s looking at you and thinking about you beneath him, it doesn’t matter, because no one has ever looked at you the way that Billy Russo does, and you know that no matter how many other partners you’ll have in the future, no one ever will again.

The fact of the matter is that Billy’s a master at using his own body language to get you ready to go - and then once his low voice fills your ears, be it at a normal volume or rasped into your ear, asking “D’you even know what I’m gonna do to you?”, well he’s already won. With him, it’s not about the touching or the physical foreplay; you know what Billy looks like beneath his clothes and what he’s capable of… it’s about what’s on the outside and what he can do with a few simple movements or mannerisms… it’s his behaviors, the unconscious actions that get you truly worked up.

K=Kinks - list a few of their kinks, be they the normalized ones or kinkier kinks.

Three things: knives, sensation play and … well defined collarbones?

Yes, you’re reading that right. Billy Russo has a thing for a woman with pronounced collarbones. You figured that out the first night that you wore a strapless dress with him - on the first date you went on after sleeping with him - though you’d noticed him constantly finding ways to touch your shoulders and clavicle, even before he’d seen you without clothes. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you that night in particular, and as soon as you’d gotten back to his place, you’d found out why.

“C’mere.” Reaching out, Billy took your hand and pulled you close to him, nuzzling his face against your cheek. “Let me take care of you.” Whispering into your ear, he’d lowered his head to kiss the top of your shoulder, his fingers moving on either side of your neck before he moved his hands to your waist to hold you in place, hip to hip.

You thought he was going for your neck, but to your surprise, Billy’s lips hovered over the base of your throat before dropping down to touch your skin. He moved back outward toward your shoulder, following along against the ridge of bone that was clearly visible beneath the skin, lips parted as they traced against it. You felt his tongue too, hot and wet and joined by his teeth as he nipped at your skin, first on one side of your body and then the other. “Fuck.” He was whispering against you, the hot breath against the dampness left by his mouth making you shiver, and so when his mouth finally stopped moving, you didn’t know what to expect next. “Was that alright?” He was panting and you could feel his… level of interest against your body, his hips rocking gently against you. “Fuck, I can’t… shit.” And then his mouth was on you again, teeth closing with a bit more force against your skin and your hands were in his hair and you didn’t know how anything could feel better… until, of course, that dark head of his made it between your legs for the very first time.

As for the sensation play…. Billy likes to experiment with hot and cold. Ice cubes being moved against body parts are one of his favorites; he loves using them against your breasts, teasing the nipples into hard peaks before taking them into his mouth to warm them back up, or simply running the cold squares up and down your stomach, letting them melt against your abdomen just to hear you gasp before he dips his head down and licks the liquid from your skin. And his fingers, cold against  and inside of your warmest place? There’s nothing else like it. He loves when you tease him with ice, too - sucking on the cubes to freeze your mouth before you use your tongue along his length… but he likes warmth more.

And you’re only happy to oblige his simple requests for candle wax in the bed; though you were afraid it would be too messy, too painful, he assured you that it wasn’t… and he was  right. The first time you’d tilted the candle over his sternum, straddling his hips and  watching as his eyes locked on the flickering flame - dark and hooded - you’d been afraid that when it finally dripped down, he’d be mad… but he’d been the exact opposite. His hands fisted into the blankets and he hissed through his bared teeth up at you as the liquid touched his skin and began hardening, his hips rising to meet yours as he arched his back. “Again. More.” This was trust - and Billy gave it to you freely…. So you did exactly as he asked, feeling yourself begin to come apart as you watched him do the same with every single drop of red wax against his pale, perfect skin.

When it comes to knives, Billy Russo is something of an expert. You see it in his eyes when he’s eating dinner and he focuses on the blades that he uses to cut his food, when he’s cataloging his weapons in his apartment, his fingers moving across the serrated edges of the knives as he cleans or sharpens them… but there’s something special about his KA-BAR, the handle well worn, blade still as sharp as the day it was issued. You’ve seen him play with it, testing the weight in his hands, twirling the point against his palm or on the surface of a table, and something about the action; the idea that one slip of the razor sharp edge could put an end to anything in front of it - especially in his hands - to see how lovingly he handles that knife as if it’s an extension of himself… really gets you in the mood. And so, one day, you decide to bring it up to him after a particularly intense fuck while the feeling of his fingers at your throat is still in the forefront of your mind.

“So.” You cleared your throat, running your fingers across his bare chest, the sparse hair there damp with sweat. “So.. Billy.” You wanted to ask, wanted to bring it up, but now that the opportunity had presented itself, you were nervous. “Um.” You cleared your throat again, eyes cast downward at the sheet bunched over his waist. “Have you ever, um... “ What is this? Would he even be interested? Is it… weird? “How do you feel about knife play?” He sucked in a breath and immediately his hands found your face, turning it toward him as he sat up in bed, eyes wide.

“What did you ask me?” His tone was unreadable, but his eyes were blazing. “Knives? In bed?” You nodded. “I never… that’s not something that you bring up on the first night you’re in bed with someone; that shit would scare most people away.”

“So, is that a no?” You were bolder now, seeing the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became more rapid. It’s a no. But he’s… not turning it down. “No knives? I see how you look at them when you’re…”

“I’m interested. But… why?” His voice had gotten more gruff, his tongue moving across his lower lip. “You… would you trust me?” Yes.

“I don’t know why. But… yes.” You were surprised at how strong your voice was and you reached out, fingers curling against his chin, which was barely covered in stubble. “Yeah, I think it’d be pretty fucking great.” He smiled, but it was a cold smile, a smile that took him out of the room and far away - but the warmth never left his eyes. “You seem to… like blades, and…”

“I do.” He sniffed, nose crinkling. “I like them very much.”

---

Two weeks later, you were in bed with him at his place, both of you almost nude when he’d stopped, kneeling over you with his hands moving against the skin of your stomach, just above the waistband of your panties. “So.” He licked his lips, cocking his head to the side. “So, about those knives.” Your breathing sped up, and he smirked. “You still interested?” You nodded emphatically, and he did too, reaching over to the side table and opening the drawer, producing a blade that was much smaller than his typical knife… but still at least four inches long. “I looked into it.” He held the blade up, allowing it to catch the light from the street lamp outside the window. “I wanted to make sure we could be safe, so we’re not using my knives, those have… seen and done too much. This one isn’t as sharp, there’s less of a chance for breaking skin.”

“Billy….” You breathed his name, eyes focused on the blade glittering in the semi-darkness, but he was focused on the blade too, bringing it down to rest flat against the palm of his hand. And then he looked back at you.

“I got some ground rules, though.” You nodded, your lips parted. “Nothin’ near your face or your neck.” Ok, that’s … yes. “I ain’t gonna restrain you at all. This isn’t about fear or domination. Maybe we can work up to that, but…” His features softened. “I don’t wanna scare you. I’m not gonna get off on your fear.” You nodded, your lips still parted, and then he transferred the blade to his other hand, putting it down against the mattress before he leaned in to kiss you hard, his tongue plunging into your mouth. “You want me to stop, you think it’s too much, you use the word…” He paused. “Anvil.” Another nod from you. “Alright. Prop yourself up on those pillows.”

You did as he asked and then he scooted backwards, resting on your thighs as he leaned forward, lifting the knife up again. He started with it just below the hollow of your neck, pressing down with the tip slightly - just so that you could feel it, and you inhaled sharply at the sensation, feeling the cold blade against your skin. He was still smirking as he spun the blade, trailing it down between your breasts, tilting it so that the entirety of the blade’s width made contact with your skin. You were panting by the time he reached your navel, and his eyes were locked on the movement of the knife, entirely focused on what he was doing. You thought that you were going to combust by the time he’d finished with the skin of your abdomen, scooting even further back down your legs, his stance widening.

The blade turned in his hand and slipped beneath your pantyline, the metal cold against the sensitive skin there and you bucked your hips - and he for the first time touched you with his hand again, pushing you back down against the mattress. “Spread your legs.” You did so without question, and he removed the knife from beneath the elastic, passing it from one hand to the other. “Remember. Anvil.” But as you were nodding, the blade dipped between your legs, and the sensation of the cool metal against the inside of your thigh -  first one leg and then the other, running from the apex of your thighs almost to your knees and then back up - slowly, so slowly - had you moaning from deep in your throat, and you had to fight to keep your eyes open because watching him watch you was the biggest turn on in the entire universe.

Billy was watching intently, and you could see just how aroused he was, the outline of his length well defined against his light colored boxer briefs as he moved his hand. “Billy, fucking hell.” Your words were a whisper, fingers tangled into the blankets beneath you - and he continued to drag the blade up and down, alternating between using the edge and the tip, fast and then slow, and his breaths increased in frequency. I’m going to come without him even touching me, this is insane. As the thought crossed your mind, he pulled the knife back up, looked at it and then raised his eyes to yours. You’d never seen them so dark, and if you hadn’t trusted him so completely, you would have been terrified.

“You like these?” He used the knife to indicate your panties, and when you shook your head no, he grinned at you. “Good.” He swiftly returned the blade to its former location, sliding it back beneath the left leg opening and turned the sharp edge upward. With a quick jerk of his hand - and a gasp at the coolness against your skin again - the material separated in a straight line. Oh Jesus. Billy lowered the blade again, using it to move the lace out of the way, exposing you to him. He paused, and then an almost playful smile crossed his lips, his eyes focused on the area between your legs. “Get ready.” He adjusted his position and lowered himself onto his chest, propping himself up on his elbows between your legs… and then the knife was back, the flat side of the blade pressed against your entrance and you gasped, moaning his name again.

After a few moments, Billy removed the knife and then raised it in front of his face, looking at you over it. Without breaking eye contact, he turned the knife so that the sharp edge was facing you and in one movement, licked along the entire length of the blade, his eyes rolling back into his head only as he got his first taste of you. You barely had time to register what you were looking at before you - distantly - heard the knife clattering against the wall and the floor and he surged forward, diving back between your legs.

You used knives a lot after that, and things even got a little more dangerous a time passed.

L=Location -  Where they like to have sex at, do they like risky locations, etc.

Risky, no. Public? Yes. Billy isn’t against pinning you (or anyone, for that matter) against the wall to kiss you senseless, but he’s not about to willingly remove all of his clothes in a very public place. He likes the safety and confines of his spaces - the car, his apartment, anywhere comfortable. Billy Russo has worked hard to ensure that he can be comfortable when he is having sex. While location is something to consider, Billy won’t pass up an opportunity to get laid, even if it means that he has to be a little creative about where… and how it happens.

M=Masturbation - How they are when they get themselves off, what they get themselves off to.

Due to his time in the military, Billy’s learned the art of masturbation - he can get himself off in less a minute when he’s really in a hurry, but he’s able to prolong it if he’s watching something interesting… like you, touching yourself in front of him. When he’s alone, it’s quick, clinical and specifically to find release… but if you’re in the room, everything changes.

Billy doesn’t need any visual aids; he’s got enough mental images of you and his past partners to get the job done. But if he can hear you? That makes him come even faster, even if he can’t see you, which is why he’s taken to calling you for some audible “help” when he’s got to stay late at work or you’re busy planning an event.

N=NO - A few things that they will absolutely, under no circumstances, ever do.

Billy will not, under any circumstances take part in sexual encounters that are with drunk women. He won’t take advantage of a woman’s lack of control - he knows what it’s like to be misled and used. He will not simulate acts of violence like kidnapping, rape, torture or strangulation. He’s willing to apply a little pressure to your throat (and fuck do you love it when he’s got his fingers there), but he won’t let it get to the point of true pain. He won’t ever hit you, either.

Billy will also not entertain the idea of bringing a second man into the bedroom, though he’s very open to having a second woman… since there’s more than enough of him to go around.

O=On’s - Their top turn on’s that they have (things that’ll get them super horny super quickly).

Billy likes an intelligent woman that isn’t afraid to call him out on his shit. Most of the women he sleeps with land in his bed because he likes the way that they look - but the ones that are willing so sass him a little and meet his one liners with comebacks of their own? They’re the ones he comes back to, the ones that get second dates. Confidence - like the confidence Billy has in himself - is the biggest turn on that Billy can think of.

He loves seeing a woman’s hand against his forearm. There’s something about the way a woman’s fingers look wrapped around his skin; the slender fingers and long, painted nails. This also applies to the way your hand looks wrapped around his length, too.

Billy’s turned on by a woman that can hold their liquor. He likes to drink and have a good time, and while he understands that there’s a time for drinks like daiquiris and margaritas, he can truly appreciate a woman that can slug back shots of whiskey drink for drink with him.

He likes receiving flirty text messages from you, and you’ve perfected the art of getting him hard - and ready - with only a few words…. Or pictures. Billy likes knowing that you’re thinking about him, and there’s nothing like a picture of the swell of your breast above the bathwater or the curve of your ass on top of the bedsheets to get him going.

P=Position -  Their favorite position to have sex in.

This might surprise people to learn, but Billy’s favorite position for sex is taking you from behind. Standing, laying down, sitting… he loves the way that it feels to have your entire back pressed against his chest, his hands on your breasts… or your neck, or your lower body, fingers moving against your skin. He loves the feeling of controlling your movements against him, and even though he can’t always look at your face this way, it’s the perfect position for having sex in front of a mirror, where he can stare at you all he wants - head to toe. He also really likes this position because it leaves his mouth free to explore.. And he loves to latch his lips against your neck, his teeth on your earlobe… or, best of all, holding your head to the side and kissing you like you’re the last woman alive and only he knows how to keep you satisfied.

Q=Quickie - Do they like it, do they prefer quickies over actual sex, etc.

Billy won’t ever turn down lengthy, multiple rounds of sex, but he’s a sucker for quickies too, because he loves the thrill of knowing that he can get you off so quickly - and thoroughly… like the time he surprised you at work, and make you come three times in in under fifteen minutes in your office’s break room. He’d finished too, of course, but being quick wasn’t anything new for him… and you’d helped him out immensely by whispering into his ear and telling him all of the things that you wanted him to do to you later that night.

R=Rough - How rough they are, or get, when in bed.

It’s no surprise that Billy’s rough more often than not, but he’s not so rough that it’s off putting. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he’s strong and he’s focused, and sometimes he gets a little carried away. This is especially true when he’s on top of you, because that way he can set the pace that suits him the best, and you can’t do anything but let him go for it. It’s also true when you’re on your hands and knees for him; even when you begin in the middle of the bed, more often than not, you end up bracing yourself against the headboard after slipping across his (or your own) sheets.

His kisses are biting, no matter where on your body they fall. Your lips are often swollen for hours after you’ve been together, and he’s been known to leave marks on your breasts, ass and even your inner thighs and biceps because it’s almost as if he can’t keep his mouth and his teeth to himself in bed. (Not that you’re complaining, because every mark is a reminder of him and how he can make your body feel). These marks are sometimes even joined with finger shaped bruises - specifically on your hips and your lower back.

And you pulling on his hair? He loves it, especially when you use the action to guide his mouth to where you want it most. He’s not afraid to pull on yours either, but if there’s one thing Billy Russo wants, it’s to ensure that you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is, so gasps of pain and surprise are fine, but if he thinks he’s actually hurting you, he’ll lessen his grip immediately.

S=Stamina - How long they can go before they tap out.

Good things come to those who wait, and Billy is a master at controlling his own body. Multiple rounds in one night are commonplace for the two of you, and though you’re unsure about whether or not that’s the case for the other women in his life, you aren’t complaining. His reputation precedes him, and you’ve heard the whispers in the bars and restaurants - even at the events that you go to - about his talents in bed… they’re all true. He doesn’t focus on emotions, but rather the body that’s directly in front of him, and by setting  his sights on what he wants and needs to you for you, he delays his own satisfaction. Once he’s inside of you, though, he alternates between controlled and unpredictable, and it all depends on what kind of mood he’s in. You asked him once how he’d learned himself (and the needs of his partners) so well (especially since many of them weren’t repeat encounters)  and with that single lock of hair falling across his eyes and a large grin on his face, he’d raised an eyebrow and given you a one word response: “Practice.”

T=Toys - Do use toys, do they own them, what kind, etc.

He does not use toys, but it’s not because he has no interest. It’s because he needs to keep his reputation up, and he needs to ensure that people remember him for what he can do and what he can offer... not what he needs help with. If he’s only going to fuck someone once, he wants to ensure that he’s providing the pleasure, that he’s what his bedmate is thinking of. For people that he’s with more than once, though? He’s fascinated with the way that the body responds to outside stimulation, fascinated by being able to control what happens when this button is pressed, or that switch is flipped.

U=Unfair - How much they tease you, how they tease you, etc.

With Billy, the teasing is all worth it because you know that (at least for now) the teasing is going to lead to sex, or a sexual act of some sort. Sometimes, like when you’re at dinner and he rests his hand on your thigh under the table, fingers slowly circling as they make their way closer and closer to your center before pulling away, him getting you off with his hand once - fast, efficient, his lips whispering filthy things into your ear - quick is better.

It’s the nights, though, when he spends hours antagonizing you - adjusting the zipper of his pants multiple times, putting his hands on his hips after unbuttoning his jacket and just staring at you, tongue poking out between his lips, running that same tongue out over his lower lip in the middle of conversations, his eyes blazing as he looks at you - that you know you’re in for a good night when he finally thinks you’ve had enough. The man himself is a tease, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and he knows it… it’s all about finding the right ways to entice you and keep you waiting, lips parted in anticipation for him to tell you that it’s time to act on it.

V=Volume - How loud they get when having sex, things they might say, etc.

He’s not a screamer, but Billy’s vocal in bed. Yes, he grunts and moans with the best of them, his uneven breathing helping you to understand exactly what he’s feeling and doing and thinking… but it’s the things that he says to you in bed - no matter how quietly - that make all the difference. Whispered instructions - “Hands behind your head.” “Don’t even think about moving.” “Tell me how much you like that” - are often enough to get you soaking wet before he’s even touched you or entered you, and it’s all about the cadence of his voice and the way his accent comes through just a bit more when he’s aroused. And besides, you like his quiet moans better, when he whispers your name, lips trailing against the skin of your neck or your chest.

W=Wild Card - a random letter for the character of your choice.

Billy’s got a thing about his scars. Not the ones that he got in the group home - those, you don’t talk about or pay attention to, not after seeing the change in his eyes and the set of his jaw as he’d told you what happened - but the ones that he got overseas. Billy’s not one to wear his scars with a sense of pride; instead, he sees them as a source of frustration. Did he get hurt? Yes. Did he survive? Yes. Are the scars there whether he likes them or not? Yes. But they’re not him, and while they tell a story, they don’t tell his story. He doesn’t see the scars as a part of himself, instead as almost a separate entity; Billy Russo’s war wounds could belong to an entirely different person and he’d be perfectly fine with it. He wants to be looked at  and admired for what he has accomplished, what he can provide, what he is capable of in the future, not what has happened to him without his permission or control.

That’s where you come in. A few months after you’d started seeing Billy - roughly 5 weeks after you’d started sleeping with him on and off, you’d been having a conversation about something entirely different when he’d interrupted. “Whadya think of my scars?” Cocking his head to the side, he’d focused his eyes on you, his fingers toying with the glass he held in his hands. “You’ve seen ‘em all, what do you think of them?” Frowning at him, you thought for a moment.

“What do you mean, what do I think of them?”

“Do they turn you on? Me bein’ a survivor of war, comin’ back here with imperfections?” Imperfections? It’s a scar, not a missing limb. “A lot of the other women, they’ve focused on the scars, you know?” He shook his head, a bitter tone entering his voice. “They pay special attention to ‘em, run their fingers over them, say ‘Oh, Billy. You’re a hero.’” He shook his head again, finishing his drink. “What do you think of them.” Your heart was beating quickly, but you didn’t have time to think because the longer you waited, the more you knew he was going to question your answer.

“I don’t think of them.” His eyes widened, and he leaned closer to you. “They’re there, sure.... But everyone’s got scars, Billy. You could have gotten them from falling out of a window or getting into a bike accident, or whatever. You just happened to get yours some other way.” Reaching out, you motioned for him to put the glass down before you climbed onto his lap, resting on his knees and facing him. Show him. “There are plenty of other parts of your body that I’d rather run my fingers over,” you said as you lowered your hand to the zipper of his jeans, rubbing him through the material. “There are plenty of other things I’d rather focus on.” His eyes had darkened. “You went through a lot of shit, Billy… and I’m sure you’ll end up with more scars in the future, you’re gonna go back ...over there eventually.” I don’t want to think about that. “But I’d like you just the same with or without them, I’m indifferent.”

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his jaw, kissing your way along it toward his ear and then dragging your tongue along the skin there, feeling him swallow beneath it as you lowered your head, tongue still out and tracing a line against his skin.

“What are you doing?” His voice was low, and as you pulled back, you shook your head. “Why are you - “

“Lift your arms, and I’m going to take your shirt off and show you every other area of your body that I care about more than those damn scars.” He inhaled sharply, but lifted his arms, allowing you to pull his t-shirt up and off. Throwing it to the side, you smiled, leaning in to press a kiss beneath his right eye. “This birthmark.” A kiss to the corner of his left eye. “The way your skin crinkles right here when you laugh or smile.” Your lips found the tip of his nose. “The way your nose wrinkles.” This is too much, it’s going to scare him off. You aren’t together, you’re just fucking, it’s… friends, with benefits, without clothes a lot… But you couldn’t stop, your lips moving to his to kiss him deeply, tongue sliding into his mouth for long moments before you pulled back, sliding backwards on his legs and pushing him to lean back against the couch.

By the time your tongue slid across his abdomen, you were kneeling on the ground in front of him, hands working at the button of his jeans. I’d lick every inch of him if he’d let me. “You don’t gotta… what… God. Don’t stop that.” His jeans were undone and pulled down around his thighs along with his boxer briefs, and you looked up at him, smirking, fingers wrapped around him as you moved your hand up and down slowly, one eyebrow raised.

“Got any other silly questions, Russo?” He shook his head and the word “no” tumbled out of his mouth while something much more substantial found its way into yours.

X=X-Ray - How they look with their clothes off

Starting from the top down, Billy Russo looks like he was carved from marble: he’s a masterpiece. His body is long and lean - muscled in all of the right places. Though he isn’t bulky, he’s strong, capable of handling his own in a fight. He keeps in shape - drinking a ton of water to keep his skin clear, and he’s a runner. He says that it’s to keep his legs strong, but you know that it’s also to allow him time to think to himself, putting his headphones in an losing himself on a treadmill for an hour or making his way through Central Park when the weather is nice.

He’s gorgeous to look at - head to toe - and he knows it. The first time you got a glimpse of his bare ass, watching as he stepped away from the bed to get you something to drink you couldn’t help but smile, the subtle curve of the muscle illuminated in the moonlight, and it made you want to reach out and grab it, running your hands all over it and digging your fingers into it. His skin is smooth and perfect, pale (except when he’s deployed, and has spent long hours in the sun and wind) and supple; he takes care of himself, since he’s got a lot of pride in his personal appearance.

But between his legs? Billy’s slightly above average; about seven inches fully erect and just thick enough to make things feel a little uncomfortable (but so damn good), especially if it’s been a while since he’s been inside you. He’s definitely more than a handful for you - and even for himself, but it’s a sight to behold when he’s running his own fingers along his length, laying in bed and looking up at you while you watch. He keeps himself well groomed all over; though there’s hair on his arms and legs, he cleans up below the belt because he knows that A) it makes him look bigger B) It’s more comfortable  for him… and C) because he loves the feeling of your nails and mouth against his almost bare skin.

Y=Yearning - How often they need to have sex.

Billy’s got a high sex drive, but it’s not really a need - it’s more of a want. Billy can go long periods of time without having sex, but why should he? Sex is a good way to release tension for him, to put the day (week, month, year) behind him and focus on something good and enjoyable for a period of time. While he likes knowing that he could have someone 7 days a week in his bed if he wanted, there’s not always time for that - nor does he want to worry about the implications of having someone around that often. Ideally, since he’s unwilling to be in a committed relationship, refuses quality over quantity, Billy would have a new woman each week… but since you met him, he’s slowed things down a bit, and has even found fault with some of his dates. Things that normally wouldn’t have bothered him became irritating, and he found that while sex was sex, the idea of having an actual conversation with a woman to get to that point was almost unthinkable.

In the seven weeks between meeting you and sleeping with you for the first time, Billy had been out with six different “new” women, and only two of them had ended with sex. All of them had been willing - especially the one that you’d met - but he hadn’t found it in him to consummate the dates. Sure, he’d called two of his old hookups and had had them over, but sex four nights out of seven weeks? That’s how he’d known you were a little different than the others

Z=ZZZ - How quickly they fall asleep after having sex.

Billy’s so goddamn thorough in bed that you have no idea how long it takes him to fall asleep because once he’s done with you, you can barely keep your eyes open. He doesn’t sleep much, but he sleeps hard… so you’d imagine that he nods off pretty quickly once he’s had his way with you.

* * * * * * * *

D = Dirty Secret (Bonus, from another NSFW Alphabet list)

(Written specifically for @ooo-barff-ooo)

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Billy Russo drunk, and you knew that it wouldn’t be the last, but there was a difference between drunk and blackout drunk. A random Wednesday in April, he’d called you and asked you to come out with him, and you’d agreed, even though you hadn’t heard from him in over a week. You’re not a couple, remember that.  Meeting him at the bar, you’d immediately started drinking - and Billy was drinking to get wasted. After the first few rounds, you’d started pacing yourself, knowing that you’d have to get him back to his place… somewhere that you hadn’t yet been in the six weeks since you’d first met him.

Two hours later, Billy could barely stand, and you’d called for a car to come pick you up after convincing him to let you take him home. “Oh, you’re gonna take me home?” You nodded, slipping your arm around his waist to help him walk to the door.

“I am. I’m going to take care of you, Billy Russo.” He smiled at you, and it was such a genuine smile that you were stunned. He’d never looked at you that way before, and it was a refreshing change of pace, since he spent so much time trying to keep his walls up around you. The car ride to his home was uneventful, and he’d actually been able to help you by walking through the lobby to his elevator, your arm around his waist and his around your shoulders.

He leaned his head back against the mirrored wall of the elevator, eyes closed. “I hate today.” You frowned, but didn’t question it, instead focusing on the floor numbers lighting up, followed by helping him to his door and unlocking it for him. He stumbled inside, bracing himself on the small table in the dining room for a minute, his head hanging down. “Can you get me some water, please? I need to lay down.”

He went into his room without turning the lights on, and you followed after him, a large cup of cold water in your hands. He was laying back on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge and he’d managed to remove his shirt but not his boots. “Hey, you.” He groaned. “I got your water, can you sit up and drink it?” He slowly complied, swaying as he took the cup from your hands and you knelt on the floor in front of him, unlacing the boots and pulling them off of his feet, one by one. You heard the cup clatter to the floor next to you and jumped back in case there was still liquid in it, but he’d finished it all. “Socks on or off?”

He mumbled the word “off” and you pulled them from his feet, lifting his legs one by one onto the bed so that he could stretch out. Shirtless Billy Russo in bed in front of me, oh man. Pulling the spare blanket from beneath his legs, you draped it loosely over his body and then walked back to the head of the bed, leaning down. “Hey, Billy?” His breathing had evened out, and you weren’t sure if he was sleeping or not. “‘I’m gonna go, OK?” He didn’t respond, and before you could help yourself you leaned down, kissing his cheek. As you stood, you saw in the glow of the streetlight that he was smiling.

“You don’t gotta go.” He opened his eyes, and they were clear - and filled with longing. “Stay.” What’s the harm in that? You nodded and he shut his eyes again. After pulling your hoodie and shoes off, you circled the bed and climbed in next to him, using the comforter that he was laying on top of to cover yourself. “Hey.” He rolled toward you, his eyes still closed. “Hey, I gotta tell you something, OK?” He licked his lips and tried to prop himself up on an elbow, but couldn’t.

“Hey, Billy, it’s fine, just tell me tomorrow.” After you get pissed that I’m here in the first place and saw you like this. “Just get some sleep.”

“No, I gotta tell you why I hate today.” He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it. “I gotta tell you because I need you to know. You’re my friend and I need you to…” Billy’s behavior wasn’t that of the man that you’d grown to know, it was more like that of a teenager. “C’mere.” He reached out with one arm, pulling you closer, and even drunk, you felt the strength in his grip. I’ll allow it. Your foreheads were close together, his breathing hard. “I hate today because it’s the day that I got my heart stomped on by my girlfriend.”

Of all the things that he could have said, that was the last thing you’d expected. “Billy…” You trailed off, not knowing what to say. He took a breath and opened his eyes, staring into yours.

“I never told anyone this before.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I was fifteen, almost sixteen and she was my age. We...we met in the group home where I lived,and were together for seven months.” He was slurring somewhat, but his words were mostly clear. “We decided to… be together one night and I was so nervous, I’d never...but she had... “ he mumbled a few words. “And so…” Billy swallowed. “I finished before I was even all the way in, I couldn’t help it.” Your eyes widened, and Billy opened his again - they were filled with anguish, even through the inebriation. “She told everyone. She told everyone and they all made fun of me, they called me “Billy Blows It”.

He just told me something real. Your heart was pounding and Billy was silent, but his eyes were still screwed shut. “Billy.” Your response was quiet, and you moved so that you could speak directly into his ear, wanting to be sure he heard you. “Billy, she wouldn’t know what hit her now.” He chuckled but you could hear the pain in the noise. “I bet that’s never happened to you again, either.” He agreed with you, and as you laid back down, you saw that his face had smoothed out, his breathing even again. He won’t remember this in the morning.

A few minutes later, he started snoring softly, his arm still around your waist. Laying there, in the dark, you took a deep breath and reached up, stroking your fingers against his cheek and through his hair - if he remembered it, remembered your touch or your tenderness, or what he’d told you, you could just deny it when the two of you woke up… after all, you had the upper hand for once.

[lahabread-devastation]

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing: Pt. 6

Author’s Note: I know what you’re thinking: “Oh my god she finally updated!” And you’re right! I apologize for the huge delay. I had a lot of personal issues going on and I’m finally getting things balanced out. If you are not on my tag list and wish to be, please message me and I will add you. If you are on my tag list and no longer be, message me and I will remove you. No hard feelings. 

Warnings: Talk of abusive behavior. Implied smut. Mostly fluffs.

Word Count: 1126

You awoke in Connor’s arms. He had you in a death grip; one arm draped over you with his hand tangled in your hair while his other arm acted as your pillow and wrapped around your back, that hand planted firmly on your bare hip. He was still in stasis mode when you opened your eyes. Or at least you assumed so, you couldn’t see his face while yours was buried in his neck. You wiggled ever so slightly, trying to ease out of his grip without disturbing him. His hold on you only tightened.    

“Going somewhere?” He whispered in your ear. 

“I have work, my love,” you placed your hands on his and pushed gently. 

“No, I don’t think so. No offense to you, dear, I’d really like for you to stay home-” he hesitated, you could almost hear him debating with himself, “and away from her. Just for today? For my peace of mind?” 

You buried your face in his chest, taking a deep breath. Waves of guilt crashed over you while you tried to hold your tears back. The fear was evident in his voice. 

“Darling?” He traced your spine with his fingers. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. “I’ll call them for you. I’ll just tell them you are ill.”

“They’ll know what happened,” you muttered into his chest.

“Pardon?”

You pulled back from him, silent tears rolling down your cheeks. “She’ll tell them. She’ll tell them that I abandoned her; that I chose you over her.”

Connor propped himself up on his arm. He pulled you close and wiped the tears from your cheeks. “May I ask you a serious question without you getting offended?” He kissed the tip of your nose. 

“Of course. You can always ask me anything.”

“If she treats you like this, if she lies and manipulates- not only you, but other people, why do you stick around? Why do you continue to indulge her?”

You’re silent, looking at everything but Connor. You bit your lip, “Sometimes, I don’t know,” you said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “I know that I love her and I care about her. She’s been such a huge part of my life for the past couple of years...I’m afraid she’ll hurt herself. I’m afraid of what life would be like without her in it. I’m afraid...I’m afraid of how she’d respond if I told her I wanted space.” 

Connor watched your face while you avoided his gaze. He placed his hand gently on your cheek, lightly rubbing over your cheekbone with his thumb. “ You know, sweetheart, no matter how she responds, it’s not your fault. Her safety is not your responsibility. I know you care, Y/N, but I can see it in your eyes, darling, you are afraid of her. You aren’t afraid of her hurting herself, or what your life would be like without her in it. You know you would be much better off. You’re afraid of her. I don’t even have to read your vitals to see that.”

Your eyes snapped to his, drawing in a breath to argue, but the air caught in your throat when you saw the look on his face. You saw sympathy. You saw kindness. You also saw an intense fear. You released the breath you were holding. You sighed and threw yourself against him, tossing an arm over his shoulder while burying your face in his neck. He chuckled, his laughter vibrating through you and making you feel slightly better. 

“ You’re partially right,” You admitted. 

“What part was I wrong about?”

“I do legitimately care about her.”

“I know you do. I meant that you care about everyone. You care about her in the sense that you have spent a lot of time with her and you have had good times. You can care about someone and know that they are not a good person.” His fingers trailed up and down your back. 

Your mind took in his words and heard them but on some level, refused to comprehend them. You knew he was right. You and Jill had been friends for a while, so it never really occurred to you how she was treating you. She had told you she had depression and there were instances at parties where a gun was wrestled from her hands, but you never looked at it as manipulation. Now that Connor planted that seed of doubt, it was hard to ignore all the other little things she did. 

“Are you okay, my love?” Connor placed small kisses on your shoulder, immediately pulling you from your thoughts. 

“Yes, I’m okay. I’m just thinking about what you said.”

“I’m never going to tell you what you can and cannot do.” A small kiss is placed on the curve of your shoulder into your neck. “I would, however,” another kiss is placed below your ear, “ feel much better if you started to put more space between you two.” He ran his nose along your jaw. “If you do see her, can you tell me when and where?” He held your face in his hands and kissed the corner of your mouth. “I won’t follow you. I just want to know where you are in case I need to get to you in a hurry.” He kissed the other side of your mouth. 

You melted in his hands, sighing a confirmation. “You will call me if you need out immediately, right? If I gave you Hank’s number, would you call him if you couldn’t reach me?” His lips brushed against yours. 

“I don’t think this is fair, Connor.” You breathed. 

“What isn’t fair? I’m only giving you love, darling.” He pressed his lips lightly to yours.

“This. You’re trying to get me to agree with everything you say without thinking.”

“Not at all, sweetie. That would be manipulation and I am not into that,” he winked. “I am, however, very into how you look in this light.” 

The air left your lungs. No matter how many times you had been with him, he always managed to leave you breathless. You looked into his warm brown eyes before turning your gaze to his soft smile. You licked your lips, pulling a quiet laugh from Connor. 

“Honestly, my love, you are gor-” 

You couldn’t wait any longer. You pressed your lips to his, turning your head to be able to deepen the kiss. He licked your bottom lip. You immediately allowed him access. You put your weight against him, attempting to push him into the mattress. He pushed back.

“No, Y/N. Let me make you feel good.” He grinned as he guided you onto your back. 

You could get very used to this. 

Tags: 

@shadows-echoes

@imaginovator

@aeryntheofficial

[madrut16]

July Fanfic Challenge Day 3: Closure - Part 1

Author’s Note: Another new pairing! I finished playing this book back in October for Halloween and ILB (which I haven’t really played bc I want a good ending and I cannot afford the diamonds to get it) and I loved it! This is the first book where I haven’t really been drawn to any of the canon LIs so, of course, I had to come up with this! I can’t wait to write more with them and explore these characters post It Lives. 

Pairing/Book: ILITW (Dan x MC)

Rating: PG-13

Summary: There’s one last thing Raina needs to do before she and some of the gang leave for the start of a new chapter of their lives in Seattle. 

The doorbell rang as I scrambled to finish packing my suitcase, and I cursed out loud when I checked the time on my phone. I knew I should’ve gotten up an hour earlier but I was never a morning person and it took forever to go to sleep last night. Sighing, I stared at the two plastic bins left in my room before running downstairs to the front door.

“I’m coming!” I shouted as I reached the entryway. 

I took a second to smooth down the stray hairs that had appeared in the reflection of the old grandfather clock attached to the wall. It was a silly thing to do since he wouldn’t care what I looked like this early in the morning. But, then again years old crushes made you do a lot of trivial things. 

With a satisfied nod, I finally opened the door. “Hey! Come in.”

“Took you long enough,” Dan commented as I let him inside. 

I gave him one of my signature eye rolls. “Sorry, I was packing.”

“Still?”

“I know, usually I’m much more organized but, I’ve been doing most of this by myself so it’s taken a while,” I explained as I led him back up the stairs. “I swear I’m almost done though, it’s mainly just my suitcase for the road trip I have left.”

Catching my gaze, his lips turned up into a smile. “Good, cause the others are gonna be here in about 15 minutes.”

“I could use some help then,” I replied as we reached my room where I quickly added, “And don’t worry, my underwear is already in there so you don’t have to touch any of that.”

This caused him to chuckle, although I thought I saw his cheeks turn a little red. Or maybe it was just all my imagination, hoping it was true. “Wasn’t even concerned about it. I’m happy to help if it means we actually get to leave on time for a pit stop for coffee and donuts.”

“At Diane’s?” 

“Of course, is there really any other option?” He answered with a smirk. 

After waking up from the coma and dealing with all of the repressed trauma from Mr. Red and Jane and Noah, it made me happy to see him finally starting to return to his normal self over the past several months. 

Packing the pile of sweaters I folded late last night, I responded, “Not in Westchester there isn’t. We’ll have to find someplace like it in Seattle.”

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be that hard, it’s practically dripping in coffee shops,” he said, handing me the last stack of clothes on my bed. “What are we doing with those?” he asked, gesturing to the closet behind me. 

“Already have that covered,” I disclosed, walking over and opening the door to reveal several hangers wrapped in trash bags. 

Looking over my handiwork, an impressed expression appeared. “You...really planned this out.”

“Actually this time it was my mom’s idea. Once I get to the apartment, I can just hang them back up and take the bags off. Easy peasy.” I started collecting them from the closet and setting them in the one bin that was left unfilled. 

There was a brief pause and I could tell he was deep in thought, almost as if he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if he should. He always got quiet when he did this but, so did I. That’s how I knew he had slipped into his own head. Well, that and the fact that we’ve been best friends off and on for over a decade now. 

“Dan?”

“Hmm?” he snapped out of his reflective daze. 

“Penny for your thoughts? You got quiet there for a minute.”

Meeting my gaze, he shrugged. “Nothing, I just...it must be hard, not having your parents with you to help move in.”

A small wave of sadness came over me. For almost four years now it’s been like this, them having to miss important milestones and events of my life. They barely made it back in time for my graduation over a year ago. 

“My Nana’s...health problems definitely don’t have a convenient schedule,” I sighed. “Especially now that they’re getting worse. Who knows how long they’ll have to be over there this time. They are helping pay my portion of the rent so...I can’t really complain. They're doing the best they can and that’s what matters.”

“Yeah.”

I managed another smile, not wanting to think about it any longer. “Plus, your family will be over there this weekend before classes start, and they’re always there for me when mine can’t be,” I added. 

“They do adore you,” Dan agreed with a laugh. 

As we finished up the last of my packing, we continued our normal banter until it was complete. Right after that my phone chimed and I saw a new message from Andy in the group chat. 

Andy: I’m here with Ava.

Ava: Can confirm. 

Stacy: I’m on my way, be there shortly. 

Smiling, I sent a thumbs up back. 

“Well, we timed that perfectly,” I told Dan who was reading the messages on his phone. 

This earned me a boyish grin, and I bit my lip as it stirred up a wave of butterflies. “What can I say? We make a great team. Almost perfect even.”

Was he flirting? God, I scrutinized everything between us these days. 

“We really do, don’t we?” I raised an eyebrow teasingly as we headed back downstairs, bringing the bins and my suitcase with us. We set them with the others in the kitchen before letting our friends inside. 

“Hey, Raina, Dan,” Andy said, the morning not hurting his energy one bit.

“Hey, guys!” I exclaimed giving him a hug. 

I attempted to do the same with Ava but she dodged me and I settled for a hive five instead. “Nice try Raina but, it’s not happening.”

“Oh, I’ll get you to let me one of these days.”

She scoffed in response. “Hah, doubtful. It is fun to see you try though.”

I rolled my eyes as Stacy walked through the door. 

“Sorry, I didn’t knock,” she panted out of breath. “But the door was open so I assumed it was fine.”

“Of course it is Stace,” I told her before taking in her haphazard appearance. “Running late?”

She nodded. “I couldn’t decide what to bring! It took me an hour to finally sort everything out. Plus, my mother was delaying me. I don’t think she wants to be by herself.” She frowned momentarily.

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Dan chimed in, trying to reassure her. At this point, it was almost second nature. “She just needs some time to adjust.”

“Yeah, I know,” she replied, exhaling the pent up stress she carried. “Doesn’t make it easier. At least Conner is there so, she’ll have some peace of mind.” She rubbed her forehead before painting on a smile. 

Andy cleared his throat to relieve the sudden tension in the room. Everyone knew why Mrs. Green was paranoid. 

“Ready to leave?” he asked, the keys dangling from his hand. 

“I think so,” Dan replied, his analytical gaze wandering around the first floor. “Right Raina?”

I’m about to reply when I remember something. There was one last goodbye I needed to say. However, it meant letting them in on the secret that I’ve been keeping from them. But, I wasn’t one to break a promise and I wasn’t going to do it now. 

“Actually, there is one thing that I need to do,” I responded, a nervous knot forming in my stomach. “It should take ten minutes, fifteen at most.”

I was met with four confused stares. 

“What do you mean?” Dan asked me. 

My gaze drifted to the window where the woods could be seen outside. “I need to visit...Noah.”

The name lingered, slowly sinking into each of my friends’ minds. 

“Wait...you’ve been...seeing him?!” Stacy exclaimed first. 

I had told them about what had happened between us and what he’d become right after that night but not much else. 

I reluctantly nodded. I was tired, exhausted of carrying this burden on my own. 

“For several months now. I know, he’s not exactly my favorite person either, and I definitely think him taking Jane’s place was the right thing to do,” I started to explain. “But, I don’t know, I guess he still deserves some mercy, some compassion still. I don’t want to leave him alone out there. So, I sometimes visit him every week or two, just so he has company.”

They all looked at each other and I closed my eyes, bracing for a confrontation. Yet, that’s not what I received.”

“We’re not mad,” Andy said after a minute. “Well, at least I’m not. I will admit that I’m not really that pissed at the guy anymore. And I’m the one whose leg got busted.”

Stacy and Ava still looked hesitant and I couldn’t blame them. Dan was quiet and deep in thought again but other than that, I had no idea how he felt and that scared me to death. 

“I’m not completely over him trying to kill us...but I will admit I am tired of holding a grudge,” Ava mumbled, her arms folded tightly across her chest. 

After a beat, Stacy sighed reluctantly, a guilt-ridden expression on her face. “Ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this but...me too. That whole mess brought us back together when we never should’ve separated in the first place.”

That left one person. The person I needed to hear from the most. I willed myself to look at him. 

“Dan? Say something,” I begged. 

Please. 

He shrugged a smile appearing. “You were actually worried Raina?” he commented, and I released the air I had been holding in. 

“A little,” I admitted sheepishly. I should’ve known that he’d be the one I’d have to convince the least. 

“I never really faulted the guy,” he said. “I mean yeah he betrayed us, but it was for a good reason. He wanted Jane back, his twin. And he mistakenly thought that was the only way he could do it. So, I’m definitely fine with you doing this. I just wish you would’ve felt like you could tell us. Me.”

I physically felt the weight lift off my shoulders. “Thank you, for not hating me. I just...we weren’t there for Jane when she was like this and look what happened. I don’t want the same thing to happen with Noah. I promised I’d say goodbye before we left.”

“Then let’s do it,” he replied. 

I was taken a bit back as the others nodded in agreement. “You guys don’t have to come if you don’t want to. Just because this is what I need to find peace doesn’t mean it’s what you do.”

His response was immediate. “We’re a team, Raina. All of us. We got into this mess together so we should end it that way too. I think this could be good for all fo us. Well besides Lucas and Lily who aren’t here.”

“They can come with us when we’re here in December if they want to,” Andy said. 

A touched smile appeared on my face. I was so grateful to have them so entrenched in my life again. 

“Then let’s go into the woods.”

[quicksilversquared]

There’s No Camembert in Tibet Outtakes: Chapter 2

Chloe: Redemption

Sometimes a lot can change behind the scenes between stories.

(Assorted side stories/outtakes from before/after There’s No Camembert in Tibet)

It was Saturday afternoon when Chloe's world was shaken nearly to its core, for the second time in only a year.

Adrien's father had been arrested. The police weren't telling anyone anything. Reporters were swarming the mansion and the police station, but Nathalie wasn't letting anyone in and Officer Raincomprix wasn't answering any questions, simply saying that an investigation was underway. Even Chloe's dad couldn't get any answers.

Chloe was left to pace in her room, phone in her hand. She had texted Adrien, telling him to come over and stay at the Grand Paris and tell her what was going on. Her texts had been sent, but not read. Not yet.

They couldn't possibly be interrogating Adrien, could they? They wouldn't. Adrien wouldn't do anything wrong.

The news that Adrien's mom was missing had publicly broken on a Saturday afternoon, too, only hours after Adrien had found out.

After two hours, Chloe grew tired of her pacing and stormed downstairs, demanding that her chauffeur bring her over. She was an old friend of the family. Nathalie had to let her in.

Except Nathalie didn't let her in. Only police were allowed at the moment, and they weren't budging on that rule. Chloe went back to the hotel in a huff, trying to figure out how she could get any news at all if Adrien wasn't responding and no one else would tell her anything. She texted Nino and Alya, just in case they had heard anything.

They hadn't, which didn't surprise Chloe one bit. Obviously Adrien would going to her first, since she was his best and oldest friend. And if he hadn't come to her, then obviously Nino and Alya wouldn't have heard from him either.

Well, maybe she had no idea about what was going on, but Chloe wasn't going to give up that easily. Even if she was going in blind, she could press her father to help. So she went right back downstairs and had her chauffeur driver her over to City Hall, where her father was working overtime.

"Daddy," Chloe started, breezing into his office. "Can you-"

"Chloe, I told you that I don't know anything about Mr. Agreste," Mr. Bourgeois told her with a sigh, setting his phone aside. "All that I've learned is that it wasn't an arrest-and-release and that the superheroes were somehow involved."

Chloe perked up at that. Well, that was more information than most of the city had, surely? But it wasn't what she had come for. "I wasn't coming to ask anything, Daddy. But I went over to Adrien's house and there are reporters crowding the gates, and if Adrien comes out at all then he's going to be harassed."

Her dad sighed. "Yes, well, that's the nature of the press, dear. They want a story."

Chloe stomped her foot. "But you're the mayor! You can do something about it! Make it illegal for them to bother him! Adrien is going to be so upset about his father being arrested and then he's going to have to deal with idiots shoving microphones in his face and asking him stupid questions and it's going to stress him out so much-" Chloe had become talented when she was younger at turning on the waterworks when she wanted to get something and right now, even if she didn't want anything for herself, she wanted to help Adrien. His father had kept the reporters at a distance following Mrs. Agreste's disappearance by closing the gates and keeping Adrien inside for several months, exiting only for closed fencing practices and indoor photoshoots in the Gabriel building, until the reporters had backed off. But now Adrien was going to school and liked going out with Nino and Alya and Marinette (and with Chloe, of course, but she got driven around while the others walked- fewer opportunities for reporters to bother him). He would appreciate his oldest, bestest friend so much if she could do this one itsy-bitsy thing for him. "-can't you do a-a-anything?"

"Oh, no, darling, I'll look into it at once," Mr. Bourgeois assured Chloe quickly, passing her the entire box of tissues on his desk and patting her shoulder. "I know this must be upsetting for you, since you're so close to the Agreste family. And it's so thoughtful of you to think of Adrien. I'll have my secretary look into existing laws, to see if there's anything we can use and enforce there, and if there isn't, then I'll get started on writing something up."

Chloe sniffled and nodded. It wouldn't make any sense to continue crying now that she had gotten her father to agree to help. It would mess up her makeup, and Chloe simply couldn't be seen out with smudged makeup. Thankfully she had thought ahead and brought her emergency makeup case, so that she could do touch-ups in the bathroom before stepping outside again.

"And c-can we have Adrien stay at the Grand Paris?" Chloe asked, struck by another thought. It would be lovely if Adrien could stay over, and they could do sleepovers and hang out like they used to, before Adrien went to school and got all sorts of other friends. She slipped her pouty face back on. "He doesn't have anyone at home now, with both of his parents gone. He'll be all alone-"

"He'll have Nathalie," her father interrupted, cutting Chloe off. "The police have already said that. She's clear so far- but I will ask," he added when Chloe started to wobble her lower lip. "I'm just saying, he does have a guardian to look after him."

Chloe resisted the urge to scowl. Stupid Nathalie. First she didn't let Chloe- Chloe, Adrien's oldest friend- in to see him- and now she was probably going to deny Chloe's completely reasonable request.

Ugh.

"I have to go back to work, darling, but I'll look into both things that you asked me about," Chloe's father told her, giving her a little hug. "And I'll even let you know right away if I learn anything more about the arrest, okay?"

Chloe sighed. That was probably about as good as she was going to get. "I suppose."

"There's my good girl."

As soon as Chloe got back to her room, she got set up. One laptop had a news feed on the screen, updating every minute, and the other had a Twitter feed tracking Gabriel Agreste's name. Chloe confirmed that Ladybug and Chat Noir- and a new superhero- had been spotted doing the arrest while the police hung back until escorted in. There was even talk of weapons coming out of the Agrestes' roof, and speculation about whether they were actually even legal.

This was just sounding worse and worse, and also more and more confusing. What were Ladybug and Chat Noir doing there? It was so weird. The superheroes had been out and about with a super-long akuma battle only an hour prior to the arrest, so it wasn't as thought they were at a loss of what to do with their time or anything.

The only news that her father brought back was that Officer Raincomprix had been the one to break the news to Adrien, and he had said that Adrien had taken it well enough. Chloe sniffed at that, announcing that Officer Raincomprix had the emotional sensitivity of a rock. Combine that with Adrien's acting training, and Adrien could have been seconds away from sobbing and Officer Raincomprix wouldn't have noticed anything out of place.

It was a full day before the next big bit of information dropped: Mr. Agreste had been Hawkmoth. There would be no more akumas.

Well, that explained the presence of Ladybug and Chat Noir. But how had Mr. Agreste- rule-following, stick-up-his-rear Mr. Agreste- even gotten his hands on a Miraculous?

"Paris should have a celebration!" Mr. Bourgeois announced as he and Chloe sat in the restaurant to eat dinner, sat away from their guests in a corner booth. "A party, to celebrate Hawkmoth's downfall and our superheroes' work! We could have a parade, and fireworks, and maybe a concert or-"

"But daddy!" Chloe objected. "Think of how that would make Adrien feel! Everyone celebrating his father being in jail, when he's all alone now! He already feels bad enough!" He hadn't told her that, of course- her messages had still gone unread- but his silence told her enough. "Maybe we can put it off, at least for a little bit? We could do a big one-year anniversary party, since we'll have more time to prepare! And time to budget," Chloe added, since that was something that she had heard one of her father's workers say once and it seemed to have an impact. "We can budget and prepare for a huge blowout, and get celebrities to come and perform instead of just having to scramble for whoever is free."

Not that she wouldn't like a party. Chloe loved parties, and loved the excuse to shop for them. But she just couldn't stand the thought of Adrien stuck indoors to hide from reporters, watching fireworks go off as the city celebrated his father's arrest.

The jovial expression on Mr. Bourgeois' face fell promptly. "Oh. Oh, yes. I didn't consider that. I, ah, Hm." He gave the problem a few seconds' thought. "Well, we can delay the celebrations for some time- a month? There's no way to completely ignore it for a year, sweetie," he added when Chloe's expression turned stormy. "The public will demand it. Perhaps we can pay for Adrien to be on vacation out of town for the weekend so that he doesn't have to see it. Adrien, Nathalie, and his bodyguard, so that he has adults with him."

"Who cares what the public thinks?"

"Darling, be reasonable," Mr. Bourgeois begged. "The public is what keeps me in office. They'll want to celebrate the end of the akumas and they'll want to thank Ladybug and Chat Noir. It'll be public suicide to not do anything. If we give Adrien the opportunity to be out of town, that's a good compromise, right?"

"We should ask Adrien first," Chloe decided after a minute's thought. "And you're not allowed to pressure him into it. And not right away."

Much to the surprise of, well, everyone, Adrien was at school Monday. And much to Chloe's surprise and annoyance, he seemed to be attached to Marinette. He never left her side- or maybe she never left his, it was hard to tell. Chloe had to admit that maybe, maybe Officer Raincomprix had been right for once. Adrien didn't seem like a person who had only just learned that his father was a supervillain. It was more like it was old news and it was just the arrest that was hard on him.

Well. Chloe supposed that Gabriel Agreste turning into Worst Dad of the Year would probably help decrease any feelings of betrayal. He had been more like Adrien's keeper than his father over the past year, and he hadn't exactly been a shining example for fathers everywhere even before Mrs. Agreste vanished, rejecting Chloe's offers to throw Adrien a birthday party and not letting Adrien come over like he used to.

Still, Chloe had rather thought that Adrien still cared about his father despite everything. Somewhere along the way, without her noticing, that had apparently changed.

And Adrien had apparently developed a crush on Marinette somewhere along the way. That was annoying- she had always thought that she and Adrien would end up together, because they would be a picture-perfect couple, blond and gorgeous and famous and from wealthy families- but Chloe wasn't going to make a big deal about it now, not with Adrien's father's arrest so recent.

Besides, collège relationships didn't tend to last, right? Even if they got together, they might stay together for a few months or a year before breaking up. Especially if they got together now- well, relationships that started as a crutch to deal with stuff like a death or family member's arrest weren't that healthy, right?

Not that she hoped that Adrien and Marinette would fall apart in a blaze of fire- that wouldn't be good for Adrien- but a few months of stable relationship followed by maybe a mutual break-up would work.

Chloe barely got to talk to Adrien during the day, since he had surrounded himself with Alya, Nino, and Marinette, so she contented herself with keeping students from other classes who only wanted to pester Adrien away, snapping at them and warning them to keep their noses to themselves.

"And if you have an issue with that, find another school to go to!" Chloe spat after one particularly rude idiot from the next class down. "Good riddance!"

"Ooh, do I need to knock someone's teeth out?" Alix asked, appearing at Chloe's side. She was practically bouncing in place. "Another person who for some reason thinks that Adrien is responsible for his stupid-head father?"

Chloe blinked, not really used to others actually backing her up. Well, besides Sabrina, but she didn't really count, did she? Sabrina's job was to back Chloe up all the time. "If he comes back, sure."

Alix's grin was fierce. "Fantastic."

"Just warn me if you're going to get into any fights," Chloe sniffed, brushing a bit of invisible lint off of the shoulder of her jacket. Fights meant flying fists and feet and torn clothing and blood, and she wasn't interested in being near any of that. It was uncultured and could get her clothes dirty or worse, torn and stained. "I want plenty of time to get away."

There was a police presence in front of the school when classes let out for the day. Chloe was annoyed at first- their patrol cars were in her driver's normal spot- but then she realized that they were keeping the newspeople away. The reporters had apparently realized that they wouldn't get more than a glimpse of Adrien, so they had cleared off completely.

Well, Chloe supposed that that made up for her having to walk a block to get to her chauffeur and her car.

"I found a law to help Adrien, sweetheart," Chloe's father told her as soon as she stepped foot in the hospital. "It prohibits the targeting of minors for an investigation! And I sent the police to the school so that Adrien could get to his car safely. Did he?"

Chloe didn't know. Why would her father think that she would know what Adrien had or hadn't done? He had been hanging back inside the school the last she saw, and she wasn't exactly going to hang around forever and wait for him, not when it was nippy and uncomfortable outside.

The press is getting impatient with the lack of a story behind Hawkmoth's defeat," Mr. Bourgeois commented after Chloe had simply shrugged in response to his question. "They expected a flashy final battle and got a quiet arrest instead. They want to know about the presence of a third superhero, how they found out about Hawkmoth's identity. But the police haven't said a thing, and the superheroes haven't been spotted."

"They shouldn't pester Ladybug and Chat Noir," Chloe said immediately. Ladybug was her other best friend besides Adrien, and Ladybug so hated to be pestered by annoying, nosy reporters. "Can't you keep them from doing that? They-" she scrambled for a reason. Ladybug would love her if she could get the reporters to go away, and maybe she would even agree to a few selfies. As practiced as Chloe was at making up excuses, it didn't take her long to remember the conversation that she and her father had only just had the previous night. "You said that we need to appreciate Ladybug and Chat Noir, right? What better way to appreciate them by not harassing them for answers whenever they make a public appearance?"

"Oh, that's very smart, darling." Her father was nodding as he mulled it over. "They have been working very hard, you're right. If they're out, it might just be to unwind- but the city wants answers, so perhaps, ah- oh! If we can get them to agree to promise to give an interview in the future- the near future, but after they've had some time to rest up- I think we can make up an agreement to have the reporters not approach them."

Chloe cheered. Oh, Ladybug would lover her so much. Hopefully her dad would tell the superheroes that the idea was Chloe's.

The next couple weeks went by in a flash. The superheroes did indeed drop in to thank Chloe for her role in getting the reporters to back off (she preened when they leaned in for a selfie without even having to be asked) and then filmed themselves answering some of the questions that Paris had about their discovery of Hawkmoth's identity and his defeat rather than doing an in-person interview. It got submitted to the Ladyblog and the largest news station in the city, and then the superheroes stepped back out of the city's spotlight, clearly taking a few weeks off.

Chloe didn't fully understand that, really. Why would people not want to be in the spotlight, famous and adored by the public? Chloe certainly didn't shy away from the cameras.

Much to the surprise of- well, of everyone- Adrien didn't object to a celebration of his father's defeat, and he didn't take Mr. Bourgeois' offer to go out of town for the celebrations. He didn't go out and watch the parade or the fireworks, but that was to be expected.

Ladybug and Chat Noir had been out and about during the celebrations, though, shaking hands with people and posing for photos. It seemed that they were willing to do the publicity stuff when it was all contained to one time, rather than whenever they were spotted out and about.

And then one day, Chloe came home to find both Ladybug and Chat Noir perched on her balcony, Ladybug holding a small black in one hand as they talked. Chloe had blinked, puzzled, and gone out to talk to them

It turned out that they wanted her to be a superhero. A bee, of all things.

"But why?" Chloe wanted to know as she stared at the floating bee-thing in front of her. "I- I can't fight! What if I break a nail or something? And what would I fight? It- it has to be scary if you're trying to get more people, and-"

"No fighting," Chat Noir promised, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. "We have a- a quest, of sorts, that needs more than just the two of us."

Chloe squinted at him. A quest sounded like hard work. And while she liked the idea of being a famous, popular superhero, she didn't want to have to work. "A quest? No, thanks. That sounds like I would have to get my hands dirty."

"It's a rescue mission," Ladybug tempted, and Chloe very nearly rolled her eyes. A rescue mission? That sounded like even more work. "We found out that Mrs. Agreste was trapped in a magic trap while exploring, and we know the spell to free her. But we need seven miraculous holders. We're at six right now."

Chloe nearly tipped over. Mrs. Agreste had been (kind of) found? She- Chloe- could have the chance to help rescue Adrien's mom? She scrambled to pull the Bee Miraculous out of the box and slide it into her hair. "Mrs. Agreste? I'm in!"

The smiles that she got at that were nearly blinding. They left with a promise that they would come back later and explain more, but she should spend some time with Pollen in the meantime.

"You live in a lovely hive," Pollen told Chloe as she zipped around the room. It was very distracting to have a bee-thing flying around while Chloe tried to study, but, well, who needed to study anyway? That was what Sabrina was for. "So large! Do you have any honey around?"

"I...can order a dessert with honey in it?" Chloe offered, since that seemed like the right thing to say to what Ladybug and Chat Noir had told her was a god. "I have room service, I can just ask for my butler to bring something up."

Pollen squealed with joy. "Oh, yay! I'm so hungry," she added. "I haven't been out in the world for ages."

And so started a very strange relationship. Chloe kept Pollen equipped with honey- and she had had to go out and buy a good amount after only a couple days, since the kitchen and Jean-Pierre were starting to wonder about her new obsession with baklava- and Pollen, well...

Pollen critiqued Chloe's behavior. It was quite annoying, really, but Chloe wasn't going to argue with a god. It seemed like doing such a thing would probably not be particularly good for her health.

She had seen what Ladybug and Chat Noir were capable when they were powered by a god, and she didn't exactly want to test how powerful Pollen could be by herself.

Their first argument had been only minutes after Pollen had finished her baklava. The kwami had asked her about if she had homework, and Chloe hadn't even hesitated to tell her.

"My friend Sabrina does all of my homework," Chloe said, waving an airy hand. "It would give me calluses if I did it all myself, and it's such a waste of time. I can just memorize everything I need to know before an exam so that I get a good grade. Then I can go get manicures and go to the hairdresser so that I always look fabulous."

Pollen frowned. "And this Sabrina- what does she get out of doing your homework?"

"My friendship, duh."

"Bees do their own work," Pollen informed her. "Hives may work together to get the work done, but they do not foist all of the work of on another member. Call your Sabrina over, and you two can work on your homework together. It will go faster that way."

Chloe's jaw nearly fell to the floor. "But- but why?"

"Because if you don't, I'll sting you."

That got Chloe to move. She called Sabrina over and they worked on their homework. Or, rather, Sabrina came up with the answers and Chloe just copied. Once they were done and Sabrina had left, Chloe turned around to see Pollen glowering at her.

Apparently just writing down answers didn't count as contributing to the work.

As the days went on, Chloe wasn't quite sure if Pollen was meant to be her tormentor or her friend. She got bit for (apparently) being rude to the staff ("But they messed up at their job!" "There are better ways to let them know that!"), was pinched when she made a comment about Kim's feet stinking up the room ("But I was right!" "It was rude!"), got jabbed in the ribs whenever she tried to make Sabrina do something for her ("But- but-" "No!"), and was actually stung when she tried to get someone to pull the fire alarm, just so she could get out of one particularly boring class. But at the same time, Pollen joked around with her, listening to Chloe's stories and giggling at some of the adventures that she had had. Chloe hadn't really had that before, since her parents were too busy to properly listen most of the time and Sabrina... well, Sabrina laughed on cue.

It was an odd place to stand. Normally, Chloe wouldn't stand for being pushed around. She would boss and threaten and blackmail people into submission, or refuse to listen. If anyone didn't listen, then Chloe would simply avoid them. But Pollen couldn't be bossed around- she was a god- and if she wanted to have the powers to help get Adrien's mom back, then she would have to put up with Pollen.

It turned out that it was just easier to go along with Pollen's demands than it was to try to argue. Chloe found herself swallowing comments that she would normally make about her classmates, adding begrudging thank you's when people did things for her, and even helping Sabrina with the homework. She wasn't happy about it, but it made Pollen happy.

The high-end honey that Chloe had ordered also did that, but even huge amounts of it couldn't make Pollen overlook any of what she considered "bad behavior".

And... well, Chloe had to admit, her classmates seemed friendlier when she was listening to Pollen's requirements. They were more willing to help her if she needed something now than they were before, and they invited her to group study sessions and outings, too.

Not that she went, most of the time. She had better things to do- manicures and hairstyling and shopping and getting her dress for the end-of-school-year fitted and glammed up a little bit with more rhinestones (after all, sparkles and glitter were in this year). And sometimes the activities just didn't sound like that much fun.

Like, Alix teaching people how to roller skate? No thanks. If she fell, Chloe could get grass stains on her clothes, or scrape up her hands, or break a nail. And she didn't really want to watch, either, because that was boring and she didn't really feel like listening to Kim and Alix taunting each other.

At least Pollen seemed to be fine with her turning down invitations. That was deemed polite, at least. If it hadn't been, Chloe probably would have screamed.

By the time Ladybug and Chat Noir returned one evening, Pollen's behavior was practically habit for Chloe. Any deviations from it were quickly corrected with a slap and a poke. She had said more apologies in the last week and a half than she had said in probably the previous few years.

"How are you two getting along?" Ladybug asked, twinkling blue eyes glancing between Chloe and Pollen. Chloe suddenly suspected that she had known exactly what Pollen was like and how she and Chloe would get along. "Do you think that you'll be able to work together to go on the quest, or...?"

"She's learning," Pollen informed the superheroes, beaming over at them. "Being kinder to people, doing her own work, even helping others!"

"That was an accident!" Chloe protested, before realizing that that was not quite the right thing to say. "I mean- uh-"

Ladybug and Chat Noir were giggling. She pouted, hoping that they wouldn't count that little slip-up against her.

"Well, we came to tell you more about our quest," Chat Noir said, a hint of laughter still in his tone. "If you're still interested in doing it."

Chloe straightened. "To rescue Mrs. Agreste? Of course!" She might not normally be a quest person, but she knew how much Adrien missed his mom. She could manage whatever she needed to do to get Mrs. Agreste back, no matter how hard it was.

She would just have to book herself for a serious spa day once it was all over.

Ladybug and Chat Noir grinned, hopping off of the railing they were perched on and leading the way inside.

"We're glad to have you with us," Ladybug told Chloe as they went inside. "Welcome to the team. We'll get you all caught up- is this a good time?"

"Yeah!" Chloe said right away, practically bouncing. She was on a team with Ladybug and Chat Noir now- how cool was that? "Yes, yes, this is a good time- do you want me to call room service for some refreshments? They have this lovely baklava, and all of these other treats, too."

Ladybug smiled politely at her. "That sounds lovely, Chloe."

Chloe saw the amused look that Ladybug and Chat Noir shared as she hurried to her phone to order an assortment of treats, but she didn't care. She- Chloe- was going to be a superhero and save Mrs. Agreste with Paris's famous superheroes.

Maybe she wouldn't be the kindest, or most generous, or most understanding superhero ever, but, well...

She could do it. Of that, Chloe was positive.

[mainadjacent]

Sticking to the Script (p. 4)

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader, one-sided Ben Hardy x Reader

Summary: You are the star of the hit TV show, “Winthrope Manor” and you’ve just got a new costar, Gwilym Lee who happens to bring around his friend, Ben Hardy, to set. You develop feelings for Ben, but they’re not well received. Lucky for you, your costar is there to help make things better.

Author’s Note: I am so sorry about how delayed this has been! I started a new job and the hours are long! Plus, I spend all day typing and looking at a computer so when I get back that not necessarily what I want to be doing. But! This is the longest chapter to date @ 3.6k!! I really did enjoy writing this too!

Tag List

Warnings: Light swearing and some (fake) injury description.

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

PART 4

The next morning you have a biting headache. It doesn’t help that you have to be on set extra early because you’re doing special effects makeup. In this week’s episode, Violet falls off a horse and is bed-ridden with serious injuries and while no one is making you jump off of a horse, you are going to have to sit through at least an hour of fake blood, rigid collodion and harsh makeup lights.

“You look like shit and I’m not talking about the blood,” says Kevin McIntyre, the actor who plays Matthew, the middle Winthrope child, and your onscreen brother.

You laugh sourly and flash him an obscene gesture as he plops down in the chair next to yours.

“I went out drinking with Gwilym last night,” you admit.

“You know, since I’m contractually obligated to at least act like I care about you I’m going to go ahead and say I think it’s a bad idea for you to be getting romantically involved with the guy playing your love interest again seeing as it didn’t go too well last time and—”

“It’s not like that!” you interrupt so hastily that you startle Vicki, the makeup artist.

“I went with him and some of his friends. Trust me it, it was not romantic at all. It was actually kind of weird.”

“Weird how?”

You suddenly become keenly aware of the other presences around the set, all keen to hear what you have to say,  and you avoid divulging too much.

“I don’t know. Just weird.”

“Well, I think this just goes to prove that you probably steer clear of alcohol. And just men in general.”

“Great advice. Now be a good non-brother and go get me something greasy from craft, please? My head is throbbing.”

Kevin begrudgingly gets up from the chair he’s splayed across, “I’m only going because I want a donut.”

“Get me something caffeinated, too!”

Your phone gives a buzz and you dive across the vanity to get it, much to Vicki’s chagrin.

Hey! I forgot to tell you, Gwil home last night! Thanks for the help!

It’s from Joe. Last night, he had appeared just as Gwil had so oddly decided to leave.

“What’s wrong?” he had asked, clearly as confused as you were.

“I don’t know, one minute we were talking, the next he just decided to leave. I think he might have had a bit too much to drink. I don’t know.”

Joe gave you a look that could pass for almost pity.

“I’ll go after him,” he turned into the throng of people.

“Wait! You have to let me know if you get him home okay!”

“Right, fine. Here,” he handed you a sleek, black phone, “Give me your number and I’ll text you.”

You smile at Joe graciously as you hand back his phone.

“Oh, and can you let Lucy and Rami know what happened?” You nod. “It was nice meeting you! Get home safe!”

Hey Joe! Thanks for the help last night. Pretty sure I would’ve gotten in major trouble if I lost my costar. You’re a lifesaver! :)

_____

Vicki finally finishes with your face and you thank her profusely as you admire her work in the vanity mirror. She really had done an amazing job. There’s a gnarly gash running across your right temple, your eyelid a deep purple color and bruises doting your left cheekbone. Your lip has a deep, bloody split running down the middle of it.

“I thought Vicki was supposed to make you look worse, not better,” jokes Kevin as he presents you with a breakfast sandwich and a tall cup of iced coffee.

“Very funny,” you flip him off before lunging at your coffee.

“Hey, by the way, have you seen if Gwil’s here yet, I want to make sure he’s alright,” you say casually as you tear a piece off of your sandwich.

“Gwil’s not on the call list today. He’s probably not shooting your guys’ scene until tomorrow.”

By the way that he’s eying you up you can tell that Kevin is waiting to see how you respond to this information and this somehow makes you feel like you’re hiding something.

“Huh, I must have gotten my days confused,” you say innocently.

You can tell that Kevin’s not buying whatever it is you’re trying to sell.

“Listen, I know you said it wasn’t like that, but anyone with eyes can tell that you and Gwil have some sort of chemistry thing going on. Every time you two shoot scenes together it’s like you guys are holding back from ripping each other’s clothes off and there’s a running bet for when you two are going to get together. So, why don’t you just stop pretending that you’re not into him?”

This all hits you like a ton of bricks. “First of all, Kevin, have you ever considered that maybe we’re just really great actors that are really committed to our roles? Also, up until last week, Ben and I clearly had something going on so there’s that. And, didn’t you just tell me to avoid guys all together? Now you’re telling me to admit my so-called feelings for Gwil, what’s up with that?”

“Okay, listen,” Kevin says calmly, as he sips his own iced coffee, “I can’t speak for Gwil but I’ve been acting with you for over a year and I know, for a fact, you’re not that good of an actor, okay? There’s definitely something going on there. Secondly, who the hell is Ben? That X-Men pretty boy? No offense, but he hasn’t been around the set for ages and based on what you just said, he doesn’t seem super interested either. And also, I know I told you to avoid men altogether, but I just joined the betting pool and if you get together with Gwil by next Tuesday, I win $1,500,” this last part he says in a rush.  

You’re pretty sure if you lunge at your costar, you’ll ruin your makeup and at the risk of pissing off Vicki, you settle to just glare at him. Before you can even retort, though, he is called to set and leaves you there, seething.

Is there any truth to what Kevin said, you ask yourself. What he said about Ben was harsh, to say the least, but was he wrong? Last night proved that Ben wasn’t just ignoring you, he was straight up avoiding you. Kevin was right, you might as well just let that go. You have plenty of experience giving yourself to others for little in return, it gets old.

Gwil was a more complicated topic for you. The two of you were clearly friends, and you are fond of him. The complicated part of falling in love with someone on screen, you realize, is that some of that have a tendency to transfer into your off-screen relationship. Maybe it wasn’t that way for everybody, but you feel things deeply. That’s what makes you a good actor, but sometimes it can get in the way.  

Before you can delve further into your feelings (yuck), you’re called onto set.

_____

You spend the rest of the day on set. The episode is very Violet-centric on account of her accident. The show is really trying to push the fear that Violet may not survive, so there’s a lot of tears and tense moments. On the bright side, you spend the entire shoot in bed and without a corset and half the time you just have to lay there while the other characters talk.  

You are distracted though, and you can feel the rest of the cast’s frustration as they call for yet another take after you forget one of your few lines. You don’t even blame them for being mad at you. You’re also angry at yourself because every time the soundstage door opens, your eyes flash to it, half expecting Gwil to burst through it even though you know he’s not here today. You have no other choice than to throw yourself into your performance, though, because you’re pretty sure that if you don’t stop ruining takes they’ll reconsider not killing your character off.  

The day of filming drags on into the night and by the time you’re on your way home, it’s well past 11. You check your phone, half-hoping for a text from Gwil—the irony that only a week ago you were agonizing over a text from Ben and now you’re in the same position but with Gwil isn’t lost on you—but there’s no message from him.

The next day, you roll back onto set early again. The weight of two sleepless nights slogs you down but you are slightly comforted in the fact that Gwil will be here today and you finally get to talk to him about the other night.

Except you don’t. He’s not on the call list and your scene together has been pushed back yet another day. You try not to show how disappointed you are.

Apparently, though, you are more transparent than you think because, while checking Instagram during lunch you notice that Kevin tagged you in a picture on his story. It’s a candid of you sitting in the makeup chair that morning morosely looking at your phone, you obviously were unaware that the picture was being taken. Underneath your head, in large white print, it said, “Someone’s grumpy bc her bf is gone” along with a bunch of crying stickers surrounding you. You can already imagine the call you’re going to get from your publicist about “professionalism” and “relationships in the public eye” and “Didn’t you already try dating a costar? How did that go, again?”.

You want to scream and hide away in your trailer and maybe even call Gwil for some reason but instead you settle for giving Kevin a good smack upside the head.

If you were a bit peeved and distracted before, you were flat-out irritated now, which made the day drag on longer and longer (if that was even possible). You could say with certainty that all you wanted to do was go home and burrow into bed possibly forever, but you soldiered on. Eventually, the night closes out and you go home again. You must have been in a melancholy mood, though, because as you walk through the parking lot to your car, all you can think about was the night of your first scene with Gwil and how he had awkwardly walked you to your car.

You can’t seem to stop thinking about him ever since your night out.  At first, you would just think circles around what had happened that night, after all, it had been confusing, with him just getting up and leaving, giving no explanation. You would catch yourself playing over every last minute of that night, pinning it out like a displayed butterfly, trying to catch what huge, gaping detail you had missed that night.

However, you had recently caught your thoughts straying from that night with Gwil, to just Gwil. You would catch yourself at any given moment, any spare second, thinking about Gwil: what he was doing or whether or not he would like what the PAs brought in for lunch or if he would also find that part of the script funny. When you read something interesting or see something ridiculous you instinctually want to show him. In short, he does not cross your mind anymore, he lives in it.

You wish it would stop.

___________

The object of your distraction is on set the next day and you wanted nothing more than to finally confront him about his behavior, so you could finally be rid of your plaguing thoughts. You haven’t seen him yet, but the first thing you do when you get to set at 6 AM is check the call sheet and his name is right there underneath the day’s date.

Gwilym Lee.

You can feel your increasing jitteriness as your morning makeup transformation is underway.

“Can you stay still, sweetie?” Vicki asks after the umpteenth time you accidentally nudged her hand out of place with your twitching.

“Sorry, Vicki must have drunk too much coffee this morning. At least it’s our last day of this, right?”

“Right,” Vicki says piercingly, and you don’t know who’s more relieved that Violet’s injury scenes are done, you or her.

Eventually, you are steward onto set, looking as gory and beaten as the first day. You get there a bit early in hopes that Gwil would be there already. He has a very British habit of being early to things, but he hasn’t shown up yet and you can only stand around petulantly for so long before the director calls for you to be in your spot.

Finally, just about the director is about to call action, Gwil fumbles onto set, a costumer trailing behind him, seemingly making last minute adjustments. He mumbles apologies to the crew before getting into place. You try to meet his eye, but he purposefully avoids looking in your direction. You want to bounce up on Violet’s stiff bed and yell at him in front of everyone here.

Hey! I’m right here and you owe me an explanation! You owe me something! Anything!

He moves to the side of the soundstage; he’s not supposed to enter until mid-scene. Edmund finds out about Violet’s accident and travels all the way to her home to visit her. At this point, Violet is more or less unresponsive and Edmund, in a private moment of vulnerability, declares how much he cares for Violet. Violet, however, is unconscious and cannot hear him. The whole scene is frustrating, in your opinion and you can’t help but feel sorry for Edmund and for Violet, too. You think how unfair it is for her, to have someone declare their feelings for her and her not be cognizant enough to even realize it. It’s almost tragic.

For the most part, your role in these upcoming scenes is pretty simple: all you have to do is lay there, looking injured and close to death. The position gives you the freedom to allow your mind to wander. You pointedly avoid thinking about Gwil, though and instead focus on keeping your mind at peace. You think about what you want for lunch; about your plans for the weekend; about whether or not you’ve called your mom recently. You drown your mind in mundane thoughts to keep your nerves at bay. You’re finally coming face to face with Gwil and for some reason, the weight of this moment feels momentous.  So, you try to think of anything but. That only works for so long though, you realize as you hear them cue for Gwil to enter the scene.

He’s at your—Violet’s—bedside in three long strides and you can’t help but feel your heart jolt at the reality of him being so close to you after having only housed him in your mind for what seemed an eternity. You’re caught by surprise as his hand reaches gently for yours. He holds your small hand in his two broad ones delicately, desperately.

“Violet,” he says softly, like a prayer and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have him say your real name like that. Your heart shifts as you attempt to remind yourself that none of this is real and you and Gwil don’t actually have feelings for each other.

“I am so sorry,” he says with the same quiet fervor. You are struck by how exposed he sounds, and it strikes you, that maybe he’s talking to you, not Violet.

He splays his fingers over your and you’re infected with the memory of him guiding you through the city streets, fingers interlaced with your own.

“Please make it through, your family needs you, your company needs you… I need you.”  

In your experience, having to act unconscious while other actors act is difficult, but this was almost unbearable. Gwil was heartbreakingly convincing and you wanted to reach out, squeeze his hand, do something.

You hold back and instead you focus on maintaining an unchanged expression. Even when the director calls for a cut and then a retake you are tentative to open your eyes. You can feel Gwil lingering next to you before getting back on his mark to shoot again. Only a few moments ago, you wanted to open your eyes, to see him but now, faced with the realities of that, you cowered. So, you keep your eyes closed.

You film the scene three more times, and each one of those times, you wait until Gwil is a distance away before coming alive to take criticism and direction. Part of you feared that if you did look at each other or spoke, your resolve would break and you wouldn’t be able to focus on the scene.

Eventually, your director is happy enough with your performance to let you go.  When Vicki pulls you off the soundstage to remove your faux injuries, you are hit with the realization that you have no more scenes to film, which, considering your last two long night, makes you want to cry. You also realize that Gwil has also been released—you finally have a moment to talk to him. The only thing standing in your way is Vicki and her ridiculously long makeup removal process—all sorts of cleaning and scrubbing and steaming. Since it's your last day with the makeup, she makes the process even longer, spouting off all the harm rigid collodion could do to your skin. You try to hurry the process up as much as possible, you don’t want to miss Gwil. After what seems like forever, Vicki sets you free, but not before slathering your face in a heavy, green facemask.

“Make sure to rinse it off when you get home,” she directs harshly.

At this point, you are certain Gwil is gone, and it’s for the better you think, lest he saw you green-faced.

You walk to your care slowly, the weight of the day dragging behind you. Maybe you’ll talk to him tomorrow.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts, you don’t register the long spindly frame leaning against your car. It’s Gwil.

“What’s on your face?”

You blush, “Facemask, for all the gunk. What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you, although I was about ready to give up, to be honest.”

You laugh, “I don’t blame you, Vicki can be brutal.”

The two of you stand in front of your car silently, both pointedly looking away.

“So, I want—”

“Listen I was—”

You both say at the same time and you exchange awkward looks before you insist that he speak first.”

I wanted to apologize,” he begins, “for how I behaved that night at the bar. I don’t know what came over me. I must have drunk too much, I suppose.”

You look at him for a long moment. “That’s it?”

“Yes… I suppose so,” he obviously was not expecting this question, “Have I mentioned how sorry I was?”

“That’s all you have to say? No further explanation?” You realize that you have been waiting to have this conversation for days, and Gwil’s dry and vague apology falls short of how you imagined this conversation would go.

“Not at the moment. I am sorry though, I haven’t stopped thinking about how I acted. I’ve been ruminating over it actually these last few days, almost obsessing. But I don’t know what else to say.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” you remind him. You know that there’s more to that night than he lets on.

“I know,” he says, suddenly meek, and then, “If you don’t want to forgive me, I understand. Although, I will say that I was ready to offer some quality ice cream from the creamery down the street if all of this just went away.”

You laugh, unguarded after what feels like forever, “Ice cream you say?”

“Yes, the good stuff, too! But I don’t know if you’d want to go anywhere with… that.” He gestures to your green, goopy face.

You swat his hand playfully.

“No, I can’t, I have to rinse it off soon anyway.”

Then, you are struck by an idea, “Maybe we can take the ice cream to my place?”

The words are out of your mouth before you have time to think about them. Yikes. You just invited Gwil to your place, in the evening, with ice cream. There could be a lot of subtexts there, especially considering your weird, unresolved stance with one another. Before you can interject with some sort of excuse or negation though, he responds.

“I would love that.”

PART 5

TAGS: @xbarrjallenx @alexfayer @chlobo6 @softbenhardy

[thorongil82]

Silver Rings for a Web of Love - Chapter 2

Can also be read on AO3 here:

Chapter Summary: How to ask out your crush who doesn't trust you while keeping your superhero identity a secret.

Chapter: 2/?

Words: 8422 of 12023 total

A/N: Hi. Sorry for the delay. Just quickly, yes, I’ve seen Endgame. There will be no spoilers in this chapter, and I’m not sure how much I’ll use of it. Mainly, I’m still going to stick to my original idea. Onwards!

                                            Chapter 2 - What to Say?

Song of the Chapter: Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

“You are my paradise and I would happily get stranded on you for a lifetime."

~ Unknown

“Peter!” Aunt May cheerfully greets as she opens the apartment door up to her nephew, quickly enveloping the spiderling in a big hug.

“Sorry I'm so late,” Peter apologises as he wraps his arms around his aunt.

“Aw, nonsense,” May says as she waves him off, untangling her arms from his. “Tony let me know beforehand. Not that I think he should've taken away from our time together, but that's just how these things work out.”

May steps aside, her long auburn hair sweeping around behind her back as she lets Peter walk into the apartment. Over the years, more pictures of Peter seemed to take up the free space around the rooms. Whether it be along the walls or lining the drawers, more and more memories seemed to envelope the space the Parker's lived in. And, since the younger Parker has left to live in his own apartment with Ned, the number only seems to have grown exponentially, along with the pictures of her and Uncle Ben.

Apart from the great increase of family photos, everything appeared to be relatively the same as Peter stepped through the door. The layout still remained the same, no matter that the number of inhabitants had downgraded from two to one. From within the kitchen, the sizzling sounds of food frying over the stove-top hisses away with the slight flicks of smoke wafting over, while sitting on one side of the dining room table is Ned with his head face down in a laptop, only glancing up slightly to see his best friend walk through the door.

"So, you've already ordered Thai?" Peter jokes with a grin, only to receive a firm smack on the arm from his Aunt as she walks by. "Hey!"

"Don't 'Hey!' me, I'm still trying here," May defends as she moves into the kitchen.

“Hey, dude,” he greets, holding up his fist over the screen.

“Hey, Ned,” Peter replies, walking over and doing their special handshake. “What are you doing? I thought you finished your exams today.”

“Yeah, I did. I'm just helping Betty out with her assessment,” he answers with a giant beaming smile. “She was panicking about how she couldn't get what was wrong with it and that this was going to cost her everything, so I offered to have a look over it for her.”

“Isn't that a little counter-productive?” Peter questions as he slings the backpack he had been carrying all day off his shoulders and onto the floor.

“Not really,” Ned replies as his eyes drift back down to the screen. “A lot of people will get others to check their work for errors before it gets submitted, and that's mainly for jobs.”

“Doesn't that kinda depend on the work?” Peter inquires as he slides into the chair opposite his best friend.

“Not necessarily,” Ned responds. “Besides, I'm only really checking for spelling, grammar and punctuation. I'm not changing any facts or anything like that.”

“Wasn't Betty the one that was stronger in English?”

“Apparently it helps to have someone else read it,” Ned shrugs. “Something about it being a lot easier to spot someone else's mistakes than your own.”

“Still seems a little detrimental to me.”

“You do it for others at Stark Industries,” Ned retorts, not even looking up from his laptop.

“And wasn't that what you both did with Michelle for your college applications?” May adds from back within the kitchen.

“Okay, okay,” Peter surrenders, bringing his hands up as he slips his backpack off his shoulder and slides into the dining table chair opposite Ned. “I just think that it's a bit different. Exams and assessments are supposed to be about what you can do.”

“So, what did you and Stark do?” Ned questions, excited eyes flickering up from the laptop screen.

No matter how long Peter had been running around as Spider-Man, Ned always seemed just as excited about the prospect of his best friend having adventures with other superheroes. Perhaps getting even more excited over time.

“Not too much. Just helped with a new Iron Man suit design,” Peter explains. “Figuring out some of the adjustments and calibrations that would be needed to get it working the way Mr. Stark would like it to.”

The young Parker leans forward in his chair as a stupidly broad grin explodes across his face.

“Mr. Stark really wants to try and get one up on Shuri. He's trying to compress the nanites further so that he can fit more of them into his chest-piece. We're also going to make them move and react faster than ever. Mr. Stark's also planning to improve on the energy absorption system. He wants to not only absorb the kinetic energy of an impact, but also transfer it throughout the suit so that it can be released in different ways. Not just having it all explode around him, but also focusing it out into a directed blast.”

“But not just that!” Peter exclaims as the chair beneath him slides away across the apartment floor, pushed out as the spiderling leaps to his feet. “We're also looking at transforming the energy between states, so he can feed the harnessed energy into his power conduits, or use it for his repulsors, or thrusters, or any of his equipment! Obviously that part is the most complex. But if we can manage to make it work … I'm telling you, man. It's going to be so cool!”

“Awesome! When do we get to see it in action?” Ned asks as he leans forward, fully facing Peter as the laptop and Betty's assessment are completely forgotten.

“Uh … I dunno,” Peter admits, his face dropping slightly. “It depends. I mean, it's not necessarily going to work straight away. There will more than likely be some trial and error involved. Plus, it's not like it's going to be produced quickly. These things can take time.”

“I think it would be unlikely that Tony Stark would just wear it out right away anyway,” May adds in from the kitchen. “And hopefully we don't need him wearing it any time soon. I don't know about you both, but I've had enough alien attacks for quite a while.”

“Alien attacks are awesome!” Ned rebuts loudly, nearly jumping out of his chair. “You never know what new technology they'll bring in!”

“Yeah, and besides, it's not like it'd be the strangest thing Mr. Stark's ever done to just wear a suit for the sake of it,” Peter tags on, nodding his head.

“Still,” May seemingly grumbles as she shuffles from the sizzling wok to the bubbling saucepan, “I would be fine with another end of the world event not appearing for more than a few years. If not for my heart's sake.”

“Why's that?” both Peter and Ned question as they tilt their heads towards the older Parker with furrowed brows.

“Why do you think?!” May asserts strongly as she spins around, brandishing a wooden spoon at the pair. “My nephew goes gallivanting off in a skin-tight outfit at the first sign of danger! Maybe I'd like for him to be safe for more than a passing day or two!”

“Oh … uh, right,” Ned mumbles as he sheepishly turns his gaze back to the laptop screen he had momentarily forgotten about, while Peter slouches over and guiltily stares at the wooden tabletop, his face burning slightly at his Aunt's assertive tone.

It hadn't been a good start when May accidentally found out about Peter being Spider-Man. At first, after seeing him drag the mask off his head the day he turned down Mr. Stark's offer – and subsequentially passed the 'test' – she had been furious. Peter had never seen his aunt so enraged. He swears on his life that she could have even faced down Hulk in her state and the humongous muscular being would have backed down. He was forced to sit on the couch as she vehemently shrieked, yelled and teared up over how “stupidly reckless” he had been, by both sneaking around in his vigilante persona and hiding everything from her. He had thought it was bad enough, until Mr. Stark was then rung up and brought over, both teenage nephew and billionaire hero incurring her wrath. The eventual compromise, to which Peter could keep being Spider-Man while May could have some peace of mind, was an imposed curfew where there was no patrolling allowed while he should be at school, if he had homework, after 10 PM on a school night and after 11 PM if there wasn't any school the next day. He also had to answer every call and reply to every text message that she sent while he was zipping through the skyline, while also letting her know when he would be back, and she was to receive a full medical report if he ever got injured and needed to be treated at the compound upstate.

Over time that rage had diminished, far quicker than Peter had expected it to, until May seemed to have accepted that Peter could handle himself safely and responsibly – what wasn't reported on the news stations wouldn't hurt her – and the curfews all but disappeared. It had gotten so much better to the point that she was far more relaxed and happy with his heroics, despite her worries, and would even suggest for Spider-Man to come and offer his support to groups that she was helping with. This also included possibly joining in with a homeless shelter program that she had been planning on creating for a while. When Thanos and his alien friends attacked, Peter almost expected the curfews to return once he had finally been saved and flown back home, but instead May was so relieved that she hadn't truly lost another loved family member that she just wanted to make sure he was safe, sound, and enjoying life. And with her homeless shelter, now called F.E.A.S.T., taking off in the months of despair and confusion after The Decimation, both Peter and Spider-Man set to work helping draw publicity to the noble foundation, while Peter looked to aid May with taking care of the people who came.

Even so, despite her gradually growing optimism of Peter's superhero persona and actions, May would still grip onto an understandable fear that his selfless nature and desire to help, both she knew were very admirable traits, would someday result with her sweet nephew ending up like the loving uncle that had raised him to embrace those attributes. And occasionally it would bubble to the surface. Just like now.

The apartment falls quiet after May's short outburst, split only by the occasional click of keys pressed on Ned's keyboard and the sizzling of the stove top, before being broken as Ned glances up and meekly asks, “Are you going to get the same upgrades?”

“Maybe,” Peter answers, not entirely sure himself. “I might just get some of them. If any, probably the faster nanites.”

“And why did he ask you to go today? Don't you normally go tomorrow?”

“He's flying out tomorrow with Ms. Potts to spend some time away before the wedding.”

“Do you know where they're going?” May asks from the kitchen, having turned back to the wok.

“Well …” Peter drawls as he fishes through his backpack before pulling out the envelope. He opens it up and pulls out one of the boarding passes. “Looks like they're going to New Zealand.”

“Dude, did you steal Mr. Stark's pass?!” Ned exclaims, as the clattering sound of wood against metal comes from the kitchen, followed shortly afterwards by wood hitting the wooden floor.

“What?! N-No!” Peter abruptly leans back at Ned's exclamation. He watches May reach down and pick her wooden spoon off the floor before tossing it into the sink, her eyes looking at her nephew. “I was invited to the wedding. And to the celebrations beforehand.”

“Holy shit …” Ned gasps, his eyes going as wide as dinner plates.

“Honey, that's incredible!” May squeals as she moves round the kitchen bench and over to Peter, hugging him from behind and giving him a light kiss on the forehead.

“I still can't believe I was invited,” the spiderling admits as he shrinks into himself.

“The wedding's in a fortnight, right?” Ned asks, answered by a short nod from Peter. “So when are you flying out?”

“This Saturday.”

“Why that early?” May inquires, leaning back from her nephew.

“Well, Mr. Stark said that they wanted to spend some time just relaxing with the other Avengers before the wedding,” Peter explains as he fidgets with the envelope. “Take a break from superheroing.”

“Well, you look like you could do with the rest,” May says, her hand ruffling through her nephew's hair. “Do you mind if I see the invitation?”

“Yeah,” the young Parker shrugs as he searches through the envelope before pulling out an invite, also inadvertently dragging the other invite out with it. Peter separates the two beautifully decorated cards and hands one to his aunt, who glances at the other as she takes it before reading the information.

“Why do you have two?” she inquires, her eyes darting over the words.

“Uh, because I'm allowed to bring a guest,” Peter slowly answers. “I'd have asked either of you, but I know you're both busy.”

“Aw, man!” Ned moans, burying his face in his hands. “I almost wish I wasn't going to visit family. I'd have loved to go!”

“Ned! Don't you dare think about ditching your family, or poor Betty,” May scolds, fixing Ned with a glare.

“So, who're you asking, then?” Ned perks up again, his excitable state instantly replacing his short regrets.

“No one, probably,” Peter quietly answers.

“Why not?” May questions.

“Well, who else besides you two would make sense? No one else knows about me being Spider-Man. And besides, it's not like they'll keep it under wraps that well.”

“Just because you can't keep a secret doesn't mean other superheroes can't,” May reminds him as she hands him back the invitation.

“W-What?! I can keep a secret.”

“Please, Peter, you could barely keep your alter ego a secret,” she responds with a wave of her hand.

“Hey, barely anyone knows that I'm Spider-Man,” Peter retorts as he slides the invitation back into the envelope.

“And how many people have you told?” Ned asks with a raised eyebrow.

“N-No one,” Peter mumbles.

“Exactly,” his best friend nods, accepting the high five from a grinning May as she takes the scenic route round the table to get back into the kitchen.

“... Shut up,” Peter pouts, trying to fix them both with as intimidating a glare as he can – which is not very scary.

The apartment falls quiet once again save for the sizzling sounds in the kitchen and the occasional clicking of Ned's keyboard. Outside, Peter can hear the general hustle and bustle of Queens life in the early evening, along with the shouted voices from a flat downstairs that may require a visit from a man dressed in red and blue if it keeps up, and the muffled sounds of the TV a couple of doors over and across the hall that belongs to a particularly nice old lady named Mrs. Thompson who May has enjoyed tea with for the past ten years, before focusing in on a set of footsteps clunking heavily along the corridor until they come to a stop in front of May's door.

“Peter, can you get that please?” May calls out from the kitchen.

“Yeah, sure.”

Peter leaps up out of his chair and deftly springs across to the door. Opening up, his eyes widen as they fall upon a taller woman who's bushy brown hair is pulled back into a bun save for a couple of curly bangs that delicately fall down the side of her face, wearing a zipped up grey hoodie, a pair of torn and faded denim jeans, and bulky combat boots covering her feet.

“M-Michelle?!”

“Weren't expecting me, loser?”

“No, n-not really …” he admits. After a tentative gulp his lips part again, only to flounder as the vast number words he possesses in his vocabulary suddenly go on strike and refuse to work in any form – nary a gargle, whisper or squeak, and his brain enters a state of shock that lasts until she clears her throat.

“So … are you going to let me in?”

“Huh? O-Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” he manages to utter as he steps aside to let her in.

As soon as she manages to step past the threshold of the apartment an auburn blur rushes out of the kitchen in a speed that the younger Parker has barely witnessed before.

“Michelle!” May greets with a beaming smile, sweeping MJ up in a hug that stiffens her up. “How are you sweetie?!”

“I'm good,” Michelle replies softly with a smile Peter cannot see as she melts into the arms of Aunt May, hugging her back and resting her head on her shoulder. Peter knows that no one can resist the warmth of his aunt - not even the almighty Michelle Jones.

Peter gently closes the door shut and shoots a questioning look at May, who simply responds by maintaining her loving smile and raising her eyebrows back at him.

“Sorry I'm late,” MJ says as she breaks the hold.

“No, you're right on time,” May replies, dismissing her apology with a wave of her hand. “Dinner should be just about ready.”

“So we've already ordered Thai?” Michelle jokes, getting a laugh from May as she walks back into the kitchen.

“Wait, why do I get hit for saying that and she doesn't?” Peter questions.

“Simple: you're a loser, and I'm me,” MJ speaks up as she sits down at the table in the spare chair beside Ned before turning to her table neighbour. “Hey, loser number two.”

“Hey,” Ned absentmindedly greets as he continues looking over Betty's project. “Hang on, I'm number two?”

“Congratulations, you can hear clearly.”

“Why am I number two?” he asks in confusion.

“I wouldn't argue. You don't want to be number one,” she states, gesturing to Peter who shares Ned's muddled expression

“Uh, thanks?” Peter replies uncertainly.

“It's not a compliment.”

“Thanks,” he repeats far more bluntly than the first as his shoulders sag.

“Peter, can you give me a hand?” May asks from the kitchen.

“Sure thing.”

Peter heads into the kitchen and, seeing May gesture to the cupboards and drawers with the end of the wooden spoon, starts to pull out bowls and cutlery for everyone.

“Why didn't you say she was coming?” he whispers.

“I forgot,” she whispers back, her small smirk giving away her lie. Peter just stands there mid-reach for a bowl, glaring at her until she sighs and amends, “Okay, I didn't want to make you nervous.”

“Nervous doesn't cover it.”

“Don't tell me you've made it worse again?”

“No!” Peter hisses sharply before covering his mouth. At a quick glance over the counter and seeing that Ned and Michelle didn't hear his outburst, or at least aren't responding to it, he continues on. “At least, I don't think I have … I had only just started making some sense of her before Mysterio. Now I'm back to square one.”

“It'll be fine, sweetie. If she hated you, she wouldn't be here.”

“She would. She just wouldn't be talking to me.”

“There, you've still got something figured out.”

“ … Doesn't that applied to everyone?”

“Ok, you've still got a lot to learn,” May admits with a sigh.

“Too much,” he agrees with a nod.

“Hey, why don't you ask her to Stark's wedding?” she whispers, her eyes brightening while his widens at her question before narrowing to a squint.

“Mr. Stark put you up to this, didn't he? Is that why you invited Michelle?”

“What? No! I'd already invited MJ before he called me about you. Why? What did he say?”

“He thinks I should invite her,” he mumbles.

“You should,” May agrees, holding out a hand. “Bowl.”

“I can't,” Peter opposes as he hands her a bowl, which she starts scooping rice into out of the saucepan.

“Why not?”

“How would I explain everything?” Peter asks as May moves on to adding the fried vegetables in. “She doesn't know that I'm Spider-Man.”

“You haven't told her,” May points out as she hands him the meal and gestures for another bowl. “And that hasn't stopped anyone finding out yet.”

“Still-”

“I think it's a good idea,” May presses on, filling up the second bowl and handing it to Peter. “It'll help you both get closer again.”

As she glances back at Peter after he hands her the third bowl, she notices the calculating expression of his as he stares off at a randomly chosen point in the floorboards, lost deep in thought.

“I know that look, you're overthinking again.”

“Am not,” he replies, snapping his attention back to May.

“It's not like anything will happen there,” she promises filling up the third bowl and swapping it for the last one. “Who would be silly enough to attack a place crawling with Avengers.”

“Don't jinx it,” Peter groans, rubbing his face with his hands.

“It's only jinxed if it happens,” May points out with a raise of her spoon. “Which would mean you'd need to bring her.”

“So, that's another reason not to invite her.”

May pauses for a second before answering. “That worked against me, didn't it?"

“The point is, that you always overthink things when you're worrying for others,” May continues at her normal volume as she gathers her bowl and cutlery and takes it over to the dining table, leaving Peter to carry Michelle's and Ned's. “It's sweet, but you need to relax. She'll be fine. Ned, put your laptop away.”

“Yes, May,” Ned says as he starts to put it to sleep while Peter sets MJ's food in front of her, the girl perking up at May's words.

“Peter's worried about a girl?” she asks as Peter sets Ned's meal in front of him while he is sliding the laptop into his bag underneath the table.

“Yes,” May simply states as she pokes through the food with her fork and spoon, while Peter simultaneously pulls back with a sudden, “N-No!”

“Don't worry, it's just work related,” May explains, causing Peter to groan as he goes to grab his food from the kitchen.

“So, who's this mystery girl?” MJ questions with a face schooled for many long years to give nothing away, her elbows on the table resting either side of her bowl while her hands are clasped together above it.

“Why are you so interested?” Peter snaps as he sets his bowl and cutlery down.

“Peter!” May scolds.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“Fishing for new material,” Michelle answers. “Not that I really need it for you. There's just so much to tease you for. It's a bottomless pit.”

“Th-This looks really good, May,” Ned says, glancing nervously between his two friends. “Smells delicious too.”

“Thank you, Ned. Truthfully, I just fried up some of the leftover Thai in the fridge.”

“So it is takeaway!” Peter exclaims, getting another light smack on the arm from May.

“Hey, I did cook the rice at least,” she defends while Peter rubs the area she hit. “I'm sorry, MJ. I was trying to make something different, but it kinda went up in smoke.”

“It's fine, May. Just so long as there isn't any meat in mine.”

“I made sure there wasn't meat in any, just to be safe.”

“Thanks.”

“So, how are your exams going, MJ?” May asks as they start to dig into their dinner.

“They should be fine. Same with the assessments. Just one more tomorrow,” she answers with a swallow before looking at Ned. “I take it Betty asked you to read over her work?”

The rest of the meal passes by with few events, just some causal talk, May asking questions of how MJ's holding up, and a few choice barbs flung by the snarky warrior over to the young Avenger. When they are all finished, Peter insists on collecting up the bowls and cutlery and washing up, despite the protests of his Aunt, leaving him now washing up the dishes in the kitchen.

“I should be going,” Michelle states as she rises up from her chair, though stops as May reaches a hand over.

“You don't have to go. We've got chocolate ripple cake for dessert. And I think the boys are going to put a movie on.”

“No thanks, I should go get ready for tomorrow. Make sure I'm prepared and all.”

“Well, I'll give you a slice for the road.”

“You don't have to-”

“Oh, nonsense,” May waves her off before looking over her shoulder. “Peter!”

“On it!” Peter shouts, grabbing a tea towel and quickly drying his hands before diving into the fridge.

“It was good to see you again, sweetie,” she says, pulling her into another hug that MJ accepts much quicker than the first. Michelle breaks away with a smile before walking over to Ned, who has gotten his laptop out once more.

“Bye, Ned,” she says, holding out a hand for a fist bump.

“See ya, MJ,” Ned says as he returns it. “Keep in touch over break?”

“Yeah, sure. Sorry, I've just been busy with school.”

“Yeah, we all have.”

MJ moves back around the table just as Peter bumbles out of the kitchen, sliding across the floor in his socks and bumping into a set of drawers. She manages to choke her laugh into her hoodie while he's busy fixing it and schools herself back to the blank canvas by the time he turns back around. With a slight tinge of faint crimson across his cheeks, he holds out her sizeable share of ripple cake tightly wrapped in glad-wrap. Silently, she takes it from his hands and pockets it in her hoodie along with her hands.

“Bye, dork,” she says before she walks to the door.

Peter waves awkwardly to her back and manages to stutter out, “Y-Yeah, see ya,” as she opens it, before glancing at May.

“Ask her!” his aunt mouths.

His mouth opens up again to fire back some sort of excuse, but for the second time that night the working words have gone on strike. Union has managed unity amongst every sound and syllable, turning them all in opposition of him again. No matter what his brain suggests as a compromise, there's no pleasing them. Not even the promise of using simple basic English properly. And yet, what whips everything back into shape is the sudden slam of the door behind Michelle making him jump and shifting everything into high gear. Diving for his backpack, he scurries inside for the envelope Mr. Stark gave him which had, by some means, managed to fall underneath his work and textbooks.

'This is a bad idea! This is a bad idea!'  his brain runs on a loop as he finally pulls it free. Rushing to the door and wrenching it open, Peter darts through and spots her just before she makes it to the elevator.

“Michelle! Wait!”

MJ sighs and stops just short of the elevator doors, turning around as he dashes up to her

'This is a bad idea! This is a bad idea! This is a bad idea! This is -'  

“What is it, Parker?”

“U-Um ...” Peter stammers out before clearing his throat, hoping that his words will stay working just long enough to finish this. “W-Well, today – earlier – obviously earlier, I-I got something Stark – from Mr. Stark. Not just any something; a big something. Like, monumental-”

“Get to the point, Parker,” Michelle interrupted, pulling her hands out of her pockets and crossing her arms across her chest. “You're not making any sense.”

“U-Uh, r-right … So, um, you know about Mr. Stark's wedding? To Ms. Potts?”

“No, I haven't heard about the wedding every media platform's been spending too long covering instead of actual important social issues.”

“O-Oh, right …”

'This is a bad idea! This is a bad idea!'

“What about it?”

“U-Um …” her starts again, before deflating with a sigh. “Don't worry. It's nothing. S-Sorry.”

Peter turns around and goes to walk back, until he feels her hand on his shoulder.

“Clearly not if you came running after me. What is it?”

“W-Well … I got invited,” he states, rubbing his free hand against the back of his neck.

“Huh …” she manages to utter, the blank canvas adding some life as her brows rise slightly higher over her widened eyes, “You must do some really important work for him to be invited to something so important.”

“I-I guess?”

“Is that a question or an answer?”

“… both?”

A heavy silence falls between the two of them before Michelle speaks up again.

“… So, is there anything else? Or were you just looking for compliments?”

“No! I-I … It's just … I've been allocated a guest for the trip and I … uh …” he stammers out before taking a deep breath, “… Iwaswonderingifyouwantedtocomewithme?”

“… Can you repeat that? Not all of us have super hearing, you know.”

“W-What?” he squeaks, his face draining of colour.

“Not all of us have super hearing,” she repeats. “Like your pal Spider-Man?”

“O-Oh, right. Um …” Peter clears his voice as the colour returns too quickly to his face, rushing past his normal tone and turning into a beat red blush. “I-I was just wondering i-if you wanted to come with me? T-To the wedding.”

Michelle's eyes widen again and her lips part slightly. She makes a move as if to speak, but it seems as if whatever she was going to say got caught along the way.

“Um … Look, Peter,” she starts, her head dropping slightly and tilting to the side, “I dunno-”

“You don't have to!” he exclaims, jolting her back to looking at him. Quietening himself back down, he continues with, “I-I was just asking … I knew May and Ned couldn't come-”

“Oh, so I'm third choice?”

“No! I-I mean, I see why it looks that way, but May is family and Ned's always been interested in this stuff, so i-it just seemed more likely that they would come. N-Not that I asked, because I already knew they couldn't come.”

Peter had kept his head trailed on the floor as he tentatively stammered through his explanation, meaning that he had completely missed the small smile that had managed to creak through Michelle's filter and painted itself across her canvas while he bumbled through his excuse. A small smile that had already been painted back over, along with the rest of her expression, ready to start again once more.

“Why not ask that girl that you're so worried about?”

'That's what I'm doing!'  his insides exclaim, building up and waiting to be released. Instead, what came out was, “We aren't that close, me and her.”

MJ slowly nods before she admits, “Look, I don't know-”

“You don't have to!” he repeats again. “I mean, I don't want you to feel pressured into it. Just that, you know, if you didn't have any plans for spring break, and you wanted a holiday-”

“Oh no, my usual routine of wrapping myself in blankets and reading every book in sight with no end of tea is ruined now,” she complains dryly.

“O-Oh, right. Well, enjoy your plans, I guess-”

“I was joking, loser,” she smirks with a shake of her head. “I've got nothing on.” The smirk falls from her head as she continues, “It's just, last time we planned something for us, it didn't go well.

Peter slowly nods, remembering the disaster with Mysterio and his goons that Michelle could never understand. He takes in a deep breath before asking, “… So that's a no?”

Michelle sighs and leans up against the wall, staring off at a point on the ground.

“… I don't think I'd get along well with Stark when I'm there, regardless of if he's paying for the trip or not,” she answers.

“Ms. Potts will also be there,” Peter countered, remembering Michelle's admiration for her. “Also the Avengers.”

“Seriously?!” she exclaims, raising her head in time to catch Peter nodding. “How'd you get on that invite list?”

“I dunno.”

 'Tell her! Tell her!'

“I've, uh, done some things for them. Tech upgrades and modifications.”

'And, also, I'm Spider-Man!'  his mind continues on to mock him. 'Sorry for not telling you sooner. Friends again?'

“Th-That's it,” he finishes with a swallow, waiting in silence as MJ's squinted eyes stare at him. Every time she's looked at him that way, he always felt like she was doing more than observing; she was looking straight into his soul to find some answer. If there was any way that she knew he was Spider-Man, it was through that look.

“I don't know, Peter-”

“I could also owe you a favour?” Peter interjects again. “Something- Anything that you want.”

“Anything?” she questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Y-You know, within reason,” he clarifies. “I'll even get you a dress for it.”

“You don't think I've got a suitable dress?”

“N-No! Th-That's not-”

“What if I want to wear a suit instead?” she inquires, the ghost of a smile returning to her lips as she watches him crumble.

“Then I'll get you a suit. Whatever you want.”

MJ just manages to clamp down on the laugh just after it starts, with a small smile that still manages to pluck a melody along his heartstrings.

“I'm just messing with you, Pete,” she states, still keeping the smile on her face. A smile that he can't remember being directed at him since their trip to Europe. “You make it way too easy.”

“R-Right,” he says, slowly laughing.

“Where is it?”

“Plane ticket says Auckland, New Zealand,” he replies, pulling out one of the invitations and handing it to her.

“And you're leaving …?” she asks, reading over the page.

“Saturday. Morning. Day after tomorrow.”

“Thanks for the large warning,” she mutters quietly.

“Sorry, I only found out today,” he responds, causing her to look up and eye him again with her soul piercing gaze. Suddenly, Peter wasn't too sure if he should have said anything, considering her quip before about super hearing. Or if it was just because she didn't mean to say it aloud.

“Thanks for the warning, Stark,” she mutters again before handing the invite back. “I'll think about it, okay?”

“Y-Yeah, that's fine,” he replies, taking the invitation and sliding it back into the envelope. “Just, you know, let me know tomorrow. Or May, and she can tell me.”

“I'll be sure to message late.”

“Uh, maybe at a more reasonable time? You know, for the clothes and all? In case you do decide to come?”

“What, you haven't been sizing me up now?” she asks, giving Peter a sly look that sends the crimson fire burning across his face once more, spreading quickly down his neck.

“N-No! No!”

“You sure?” she says, pushing away from the wall and moving towards him. “A lot of guys would be admiring a body like mine like a piece of art.”

“G-Good for them?” he gulps as he backs up.

MJ backs him against a wall and leans in, his eyes fluttering down to her lips just inches away from his own.

'Just lean in. Kiss her,'  a tiny voice whispered in the back of his head. 'You know you want to see if she still tastes the same.'

There was a time, though brief, where he knew exactly what she tasted like. It was heaven, or as close to it as he was ever going to get. So vibrant and shocking, sweeter than the sweetest honey, an unforgettable taste that would linger on his lips long after the smallest peck. And they were few, now just a memory of sweet torture. The whole concoctions of senses and visions builds at the tension eating away at his will while he shrinks down in a crimson mess. That is, until the smile that spreads its way across her morphs into full blown laughter, pure and joyful, the beautiful sound he hasn't truly heard in years that ever since has both blessed and haunted his dreams at the same time.

“You really make it too easy, dork,” she laughs and backs away, allowing him to release the breath of hot air trapped in his throat that he hadn't realised he was holding back.

“W-When's your exam?” he manages to spit out, pushing himself uneasily off the wall.

“It goes from 8 to 11,” she answers, getting just a nod in response as she walks over to the elevator doors and presses the down button. “Apparently we get too much sleep as it is.”

“Well, mine starts at 1, s-so just m-message any time before then, I guess. Maybe 12:30 at the latest?”

“Fine.”

The elevator doors whine as they slowly slide open, sticky metal rubbing against one another. Michelle gives them a tentative glance before stepping in and hitting the ground button.

“W-Well, see you,” Peter says, giving her another awkward wave that she finally sees.

MJ just stares at him through squinted eyes as the doors start to close, before smirking as she raises her middle finger just at the last moment. Peter lets out a loud sigh and puts his head in his hands before he makes his way back to May's apartment. When he gets inside, he closes the door before falling back against it and sliding down to the ground. Ned glances up from his laptop before taking a double-take at his crumpled friend, May quickly joining him.

“What did she do to you?” Ned asks, slowly hovering away from his chair.

“I have absolutely no idea,” Peter admits, taking several deep breaths as he spreads out his enhanced hearing, listening for any trouble on her end.

All he can hear is her softly humming to herself as she rides down, while Mrs. Thompson's TV has been switched off and the shouting from downstairs seems to have gotten louder. Looks like they'll need a visit from Queen's red-and-blue domestic expert, though they'll have to settle for Spider-Man instead. At least the suit is in the backpack.

“You asked her?” May inquires. “Properly?” Peter just nods. “… And?”

“I'll find out tomorrow.”

Michelle stretches her arms up above her head as she leaves the exam hall with the swarm of students. She had finished early, as she expected, but not as early as she thought as stupid Parker's stupid proposal kept worming its way into her head as she was trying to think. Still, she finished early, but of course she wasn't allowed to leave until time was up anyway. Not without failing, as the examiners said, which wasn't something she wished to push today. At least she had a chance to think about it, more than she had already antagonised over the decision much more than she felt she should have last night when she was meant to study. Beside her, her friend and roommate, Cindy Moon, sighs happily, her utensils cluttered in her arms.

“Finally it's over!” Cindy Moon sighs happily beside her, her overly large collection of writing utensils and highlighters cradled in her arms, “I'm so happy I could just collapse here and now!”

“I'll call the ambulance,” Michelle drawls, pulling out her phone from her jean pocket to check for messages. Nothing. “Tell them to expect the usual.”

Cindy giggles and bumps into her, “It's not that normal.”

“It's way too common for it to be considered normal,” Michelle retorts, sliding her phone back into its designated pocket as another friend and their other roommate, Betty Brant, jogs up on her other side.

“Time to celebrate, girls!” the blonde cheers. “Clubs and drinks tonight!”

“Don't you need to pack for Ned's holiday?” Cindy questions.

“No, I'm already packed. Besides, we're leaving Sunday. There's plenty of time.”

“Yeah, in which you'll throw out half your clothes an hour before you need to leave because it just doesn't feel right, and then antagonise over what else to bring,” MJ points out.

“That never happens,” Betty dismisses. “You worry too much.”

MJ and Cindy share a glance, remembering last year's trip where she was crying with her clothes strewn on the floor around her empty suitcase with 10 minutes before they left. Then again, MJ knew that Cindy stressed about packing for an entire week beforehand and keep meticulously checking even the smallest detail to make sure it was right, so she had no room to talk either.

“Drinks do sound good, though,” Cindy admits with a thoughtful nod. “Michelle?”

“Maybe,” she shrugs.

“So you're not going with Peter?” inquires Betty, drawing a sigh from Michelle.

“I haven't decided.”

“Wait, what's this?” Cindy asks in confusion, glancing between the two.

“Peter asked MJ to go to Stark's wedding with him.”

“Seriously?!” Cindy squeals, her hands jerking up to cover her mouth only to stop as she realises she's still holding her equipment.

“Not so loud …” Michelle mumbles with a wince.

“How have you not decided yet?!”

“Because I'm not that big on Stark,” Michelle starts to list off on her fingers, “Because I'm not that big on a bunch of big muscly superheroes who'll argue over who's the most macho. Because I don't want to be around a bunch of corporate yes men who are way too old and creepy to contribute to society. And because it's Peter.”

“Is the last point for the positive or negative?” Cindy stage whispers to Betty, leaning in behind MJ's back.

“Probably positive,” Betty muses. “Outweighs those three negatives.”

“Seriously?” MJ says, folding her arms over her chest with an unimpressed eyebrow raised.

“Hey, regardless of what you say, I know you still haven't gotten over Peter,” Betty says as she keeps walking, the other two quickly catching up and keeping pace. “And the way you treat him doesn't exactly help your case.”

“How I treat him?”

“Well, it's not exactly normal for girls who claim someone's broken their heart to playfully tease them,” Cindy joins in, a hand somehow free from the clutter in her arms tapping her chin thoughtfully.

“I don't tease playfully. Wait, what do you mean, 'you know'?”

“Drunk Michelle tells me things that Sober Michelle is too afraid to say,” Betty answers candidly with a sing-song pitch.

'I'm going to have to sit down and talk with Drunk Michelle,'  Michelle internally broods. 'If she keeps lying like this, I'll end up in a mess I'm not going to get out of.'

“And it's because of this that you keep turning down dates and don't do anything outside of one night stands,” Betty continues. “You should give one of those boys a chance.”

'Forget the talk. Drunk Michelle's meeting the firing squad tonight. With full prejudice.'

“Cindy-rella!” calls out a male voice from across the courtyard.

“Zekie!” Cindy perks up and runs over to the source of the pet name, running into the arms of a tall black man with short stubby dreadlocks, her utensils scattering on the cobble floor beneath them. Michelle notes him as her boyfriend, Ezekiel, as their bright grins morph together when their lips crash into each other's.

“How'd it go?”

“I dunno,” Cindy replies. “I'm worried I messed it all up.”

“Nah, you're amazing! There's no way you didn't get top marks.”

“No way, top marks will go to this girl,” a smooth male voice says coming from behind Betty and Michelle.

“Speaking of boys …” Betty says, turning around.

'Speaking of creepy …' MJ sours internally, also pivoting to the source of the sound with a scowl.

Striding over towards the group, dirty blonde hair slicked back, tight button-up shirt that hugs his muscular physique with the top buttons left undone, and tight jeans clinging to his legs, is the heir to Oscorp Industries, Harry Osborn; charmer, playboy, womaniser, millionaire in his own right, flashing a smile that would make any girl swoon.

Any girl not named Michelle Jones.

“What do you say, MJ? Top of the class yet again?”

“It's Michelle, Osborn.”

“Whoa, slow down,” Harry chuckles, “I haven't even gotten the ring yet.”

“Fuck off,” she growls, turning her back to him.

“Still as feisty as ever, huh? Calm down, MJ. I was just joking,” he says, placing a hand on her shoulder, which is quickly smacked away as she spins back round.

“I told you. It's Michelle,” she snaps, glaring at him and jabs a finger in the air in front of him. “Okay?”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

Michelle huffs and folds her arms over her chest, not failing to notice how his bright blue eyes travel down her body, taking in every little piece that they can see. A cold chill darts across her skin like a sickness as his gaze continues to linger while it travels back up her body, no doubt undressing her in a way that would be as uncomfortable as possible if she ever had the displeasure to live it out.

“Some friends of mine were talking about heading around to my mansion and getting a head start on the drinking before the clubs all open up,” he finally speaks after what feels like an eerie eternity for Michelle, his eyes peering into her own. “Interested?”

“Betty and I were thinking of going out later anyway,” Cindy jumps in, holding hands with her boyfriend as they walk over, their free hands holding her once again collected equipment.

“Excellent,” Harry says, barely letting his eyes leave Michelle. “You're welcome to join us.”

“We've still got some things to take care of too, though,” Betty points out.

“Alright, then we can swing round and pick you up on the way to the clubs.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“What about you, princess? We can grab a drink, get to know each other more personally,” Harry says, turning back to Michelle. “I can even invite you to join the getaway to California. Just think; hot sun, busy beaches, lots of parties. You can put all those fake girls to shame with that beautiful body of yours.”

“Nope. Not a chance, Osborn,” MJ replies, sidestepping the arm he went to throw around her shoulders and sliding her phone out of her pocket. She quickly unlocks it and opens up her messages to Peter. “Gotta pack. I've got plans. Far away from you.”

I'm in Dress and favour included

'Thanks for making that choice so much easier. Only thing you've ever been good for, Osborn,' she thinks as she gets a quick buzz back.

                                                                                                             rly?!?!?!?!?!

Yep Shocker Details?

“Really?” Osborn questions in surprise, his brow rising up. “What kind of plans?”

                                                                                               I'll send them 2 U l8r                                                                                                                After exam

“One's that don't involve you.”

Pick text speech or normal and stick with it

                                                                                                                           Ok

… Please tell me you picked normal

“That sounds lonely,” Harry croons in his sultry tone.

“It sounds peaceful,” MJ jabs back.

                                                                                                        I picked normal

I don't believe you

                                                                                                                      Y not?

You took to long to write that Also, your last message

“So, where are you going?” Harry continues to inquire, leaning in to try and peer at her phone. Without looking up, Michelle tilts it away from his eyes, keeping it close to her body.

“Somewhere not Osborn related.”

                                                                                                                          Fair                                                                            For your dress, go to 154 on 32nd                                                                                     I'll let them know u r coming

MJ's brow furrows as she reads the address. From what she remembers, that's meant to be a top end shop filled with custom makes and designer makes that only people with some decent cash can afford.

“That'll be hard to do,” Harry presses on. “Osborn is a household name, after all.”

“Right. Up on the same level as Stark himself,” MJ sarcastically retorts with a roll of her eyes.

Isn't that that really expensive new place?

                                                                                                                          Yep

“It is,” he stresses. “And soon will rise above. There's lots of money in Oscorp. Which means plenty of riches and fame for me. And anyone that's personally involved.”

“Aw, you say that to all the girls,” Michelle says, putting on a fake sweet voice that sounds deliberately off.

Stark's paying for this, isn't he?

                                                        He asked me to go there for sizing yesterday 

So you're not getting me a dress?

“Just the special one.”

“Just one? You're getting old, Osborn.”

                                                                                                                          Hey                                                                                                 It counts in my book

Fine But only because you didn't have to offer

“I think you'll find I'm young enough in all the right places,” he leans in to whisper with a smirk, “if you'd care to take a look sometime.”

“No, I'm not up for playing Doctor.”

“Right now?”

“Ever!” she growls, taking a step back.

“Hey, Cindy? Maybe we should get going?” Betty interjects nervously, stepping in between Harry's cool and calm persona and Michelle's fiery spirit fit to burst. “Let Michelle finish her packing.”

“Yeah, okay,” she nods, untangling her fingers from Ezekiel's and quickly pecking his lips. “I'll see you later.”

“See you soon,” he replies, handing her back the utensils he was carrying.

“And I'll see you later, princess,” Harry grins at Michelle. “Still time to change your mind.”

“Don't count on it,” she huffs as she storms away.

“MJ, wait up!” Betty calls after her as she and Cindy take off after their friend.

Forget sending me the details Mind if I stay tonight?

                                                                                     I'm staying at May's tonight                                                                                         She should be fine with it                                                                                                                   I'll check                                                                                        Why the sudden change?

Just thought it'll save travelling between two houses

        ��                                                                                                                  Oh                                                                                                                         Right

Don't get excited, Parker

“Sorry, I should have defused that a lot sooner,” Betty apologises as they finally catch up to Michelle's long legged stride.

“That would have helped,” Michelle grates as she receives another couple of buzzes, this time from May.

Honey, you're more than welcome to stay.   Whenever you need to.

Michelle has to smother the smile bubbling up with the special kind of grateful feeling that only May Parker's warmth can give before turning to her friends and roommates.

“I'm not staying tonight.”

“Where are you going?” Cindy asks.

“I'll stay at May's. Peter's there and it'll save travelling all over in the early morning,” MJ explains. “Plus I'm not wanting to see that slime ball again.”

“We'll make sure they don't come to get us before you're gone,” Betty assures her.

“Thanks.”

A/N: Please feel free to let me know what you think. Hopefully the next chapter shouldn’t be too far away. At least not as far as this one was. Until next time, adios!

[dailyaudiobible]

02/07/2019 DAB Transcript

Exodus 26:1-27:21, Matthew 25:1-30, Psalms 31:1-8, Proverbs 8:1-11

Today is the 7th day of the month of February. Welcome to the Daily Audio Bible. I am Brian and every day we come together like this and every day it's a pleasure to be in your presence and have this time to take the next step forward in our adventure through the Scriptures. And our current adventure leads us back into the book of Exodus where an entire culture is being built up from scratch. We’re reading from the Amplified Bible this week. Exodus chapter 26 and 27.

Commentary:

Okay. So, in the gospel of Matthew for the last couple days we've been talking about the end times because that's what Jesus is talking about. And, so, we’ve been kind of moving our way through that. We touched on apocalyptic worldview and the fact that Jesus tells us that when these things do begin to happen the way that we are supposed to look at them is to understand that this is birthing pains and it will give birth to all things being made new again. And we were also counsel not to basically live in panic mode. Actually, we’re supposed to live opposite of panic mode. We’re supposed to be aware and vigilant and perceptive and see what's going on. And as for dating the end of the world, as we’re like trying to figure that out, is it is a going to be 2019, is going to be 2029, will be 2129? As for that, Jesus basically puts an end to it by saying, “nobody knows, nobody but the Father.” So, that’s some of the territory that we’ve navigated through and Jesus is continuing that conversation in today's reading by using a couple of stories, parables, that are designed to illustrate what he's talking about and also what the kingdom of God is like. And these parables they basically seal the deal in showing us that our posture for the kingdom of heaven should be no different than the posture toward the end of days. So, in the first story Jesus told the parable of the 10 bridesmaids who went to a wedding feast and the bridegroom hadn’t arrived yet, so the women had to wait. And as they waited the differences between them were revealed. Half of them were ready. Half of them had been vigilant. Half of them had been aware and they brought extra oil for their lamps while the other half didn't. And when the oil ran out the unprepared bridesmaids had to go in search of more but while they were gone the bridegroom arrived. So, those who were prepared, who had been vigilant, who understood what was going on were allowed into the celebration and those who were not missed out on it. And then in the second story Jesus told of a master who was planning to go away for a while and he provided resources to three of his servants with an understanding that they would steward those resources while he was gone. And, so, he went and then he came back and when he returned he asked for an accounting and two of the servants had doubled what they’d been given, right? So, they were vigilant and they were aware and astute and wise and they received very encouraging words from the master, “well done my good and faithful servant”, because those servants had taken a risk and they put the resources to good and profitable use. And, so, he invited them. “You’ve been faithful in handling small things and now I'm gonna give you…I’m gonna let you handle larger things. Come in and let's celebrate.” Oh…but there was the third…the third of the three. And that servant was fearful. And, so, he took what he’d been given, and he hid it in the ground. So, he didn’t lose anything, but he didn't gain anything, and he didn't risk anything. Like, even if he had risked and lost that would be an attempt but he buried in the ground and the master didn’t respond as favorably to him. He says, “to those who use well what they’re given then even more will be given and they'll have an abundance but for those who do nothing, even what little they have will be taken away.” So, as we’re kind of rounding the bend on this discourse about the end times, from the lips of the master we’re reminded that we really don't have another choice but to stay prepared and aware. And we don't really have another choice but to be vigilant because everything that we have has been given to us to steward on behalf of the master. And it doesn't matter how much or how little we have, we’re to use whatever we have. And this isn’t just about dollars, right, or Euro’s or whatever the currency is in your country. This isn’t about money. This is about everything. We’ve got to get our minds around this. As we move forward into the message of Jesus, we are going to come face-to-face with the stark reality that this is all or nothing. So, it doesn't matter what we have, and it doesn't matter if we don't feel prepared or that we don't have enough. We’re to use what we have whether it's our time or our talent or our money in the service of the master. He will provide more if we steward what we are given well, which is summed up pretty nicely in our reading from Proverbs today. “Take my instruction rather than seeking silver and take knowledge rather than choicest gold for wisdom is better than rubies, and all desirable things cannot compare with her.” And we talked about wisdom on a number of occasions already this year and it won’t be the last time because we're not going to get anywhere if we don't make it the goal to achieve wisdom over anything else and understand that if we are wise there’s not much we cannot achieve. And one of the things we must achieve through wisdom is this preparedness, this vigilance, this awareness of what is going on that Jesus is speaking about in the gospel of Matthew today.

Prayer:

Father, we acknowledge that we have a role to play in this, that we must seek wisdom, and actually that it must be something that we seek and try to attain more than any other thing that we’re trying to achieve or obtain. So, we realize we have to do our part by opening our eyes and seeking out wisdom; however, we also understand that we won't know how to implement wisdom into our lives without Your Holy Spirit. And, so, we'll do our part because You have commanded that we do our part, You’ve told us that getting wisdom is going to alter the trajectory of our lives in a good way. And, so, we heed that and we seek it and we invite Your Holy Spirit to lead us to it. Come Holy Spirit we pray. In Jesus’ name we ask. Amen.

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And that's it for today. I'm Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi everyone, this is Steph calling from Canada, now from Texas. I called in a moment of desperation about two weeks ago regarding my immigration situation and I have a praise report to say that the day that my prayer request was played my visa arrived in the mail. And not only that, but also, I was waiting on an import permit from the USDA for my pet Hedgehog and that came on the 17th as well. And, so, I just wanted to just give glory to God. I am so grateful. I didn’t even…I delayed my calling in because I was just…I felt like no words I could say could express my thankfulness for what the Lord has done for me. And I just want to say thank you to everyone that prayed for me. I heard every request. And you know when I was driving down through the states to Texas I heard some people calling in and praying for me and I just thank and you so much for that and just want to give all glory and honor to God because this would’ve never happened without a supernatural move of God because there’s nothing wrong with my case but it was just stuck __ and some of my documents were about to expire. And they were saying it might take up to eight weeks to review your stuff and within five days I had my visa and now a legal permanent resident of America. So, I just want to say thank you and all glory to God and I just thank you for this community for praying for me because I know without a doubt in my mind that it’s truly…it was Jesus that made this happen. Thank you so much.

Howdy DAB family, this is Darren from College Station Texas and I’m just calling to seek…seek the prayer of my family to raise up intercession for my wife and my family and for all marriages, especially for marriages that are unequally yoked. My wife is not a follower of Jesus and I’m just done with the spirit of division that plagues my marriage and any marriage of the family that’s unequally yoked. I’m done with the spirit of accusation. I’m done with the spirit of deceit and lies. And I ask my family to raise up prayer and intercession for my wife, Lynne, for myself and for all marriages that are unequally yoked. Holy Spirit let Your kingdom come and Your will be done in marriages. Speak truth to our hearts and speak truth to the hearts of our spouses. Call out to them in Jesus’ name. Bind up the spirit of division, the spirit of accusation, the spirit of bitterness, the spirit of resentment and bring forth Your spirit of love and compassion and hope. And just call out to our spouses Lord. Bring them to You. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen. Please pray that with me often. Thank you, family.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible family, this is Debbie in Des Moines. Two things. One, praise report, I received word yesterday that a job that had interviewed for, they extended me an offer so now I get to go do the background check. So, I just I figured I would be without a job the next few months but God has put my feet on another path with another company and I just give Him the praise because, believe me, I don’t interview well. I mean, I don’t…I don’t speak well, I don’t interview well at all. I always say, “I’m kind of a dork.” So, that’s all God. Believe me, it’s all God. I was not cool or slick in an interview, it’s all God. Second thing is, I was listening to the prayer line and I hear talk of loneliness and not connecting with people. I myself am a huge introvert and very happy inside my own head by myself with it. I don’t reach out to people well and I don’t connect with people well but part of this is my choice. So, I would say, go out and volunteer, go to a church if you’re not in a church. I __ to volunteer, take that step forward and for me taking that step forward to connect with anybody is difficult. I’m the one in the back sitting in the pew up in the balcony as far away from people as I can. But, I’m still with my church family. So, take that step forward, it will make you feel much better and you’ll start to feel connected. But I do understand that. But anyways, I love you all. Have a great weekend. Bye.

This is Kenny Mills from Louisiana and I’ve called to pray for Tyler in Canada that called. He is a quad for 14 years of C23 and I am also a quad in Louisiana with C67. And, so, yeah, I felt his pain whenever he was calling and going to a procedure and for his infections and stuff. And I know what he’s going through. You know, we all have infections. And, so, I was just wanting to call and lift him up. So, thank You dear heavenly Father for being with him at all times and always knowing that Your around us dear Lord and forgive us a lot of times for just our lack of confidence sometimes dear Lord and that we all have weak periods and that You will…that the doctors hands will be guided in this surgery and he will come through with complete healing dear Lord. And, so, we just lift him up to You and put him in Your hands and we know that You will guide…guide the doctor’s hands and things will go good. We love You and we thank You, and we give You all the praise. Amen.