#me foolishly: ah maybe in the return visit there will be more

[demynom]

The thing about the ffvii remakes is that you will enjoy them more if you’ve played the original. You will also hate them more if you’ve played the original. It is impressive.

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Not by the Moon | 04

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: A sprinkle of jealous werewolf!Jaebeom and poor yet adorable attempts at coming across as human.

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV.

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Masterlist

There are a lot of extraordinary people in the world, but you often don’t find them remarkable until you happen to stumble upon  and talk to them. The wolfish man holding tightly onto my hand, his arm draped across my shoulders, as we swagger over the pavement to his home above Paper Souls is such a curious person.

The good hour he dozed off hasn’t helped his sickly state. Even though he was nestled comfortably against me, occasionally a pained delirious whine fell from his panting lips as his features turned into a grimace. Upon waking, Jaebeom tried to dismiss his symptoms as nothing to worry about, but I insisted on getting him home as soon as possible.

“I’m sorry I ruined our outing,” he murmurs, voice strained. As we ascend the stairs to his apartment, he keeps his head bent low to focus on his steps.

Step by step. One foot before the other. There you go.

“It’s not your fault you got sick,” I reply, keeping a close eye on his movements to offer additional support if needed.

He turns his head to me, a few long black locks partially concealing the sweat on his brow. For a moment, it seems as if he wants to protest yet decides against it. Henceforth, what I get in reply is a hum resigning in the notion it’s indeed not his fault.

Is your condition causing this?

The question burns hot on the tongue, but I swallow it down. Hopefully, we’ll get to talk about it properly sometime in the future. 

The day we know each other.

We make it to the top, albeit not effortlessly since I have to steady him when he almost trips on the last step. Panic and instinct rush through me when Jaebeom threatens to topple over, so I act quickly and shoulder more of his weight after clumsily steadying us both on the narrow staircase. 

“Are you going to be alright?” I ask, out of breath. The adrenaline of the potential danger has spent whatever energy I had, the muscles in my limbs melted.

“I will be,” he weakly answers. 

I gently let his arm glide from my shoulders, the removal of the weight simultaneously a relief and a missed presence. The attempt at letting him stand on his own feet is successful, although his hand shakes as he unlocks the front door.

The feverish fingers glide from the doorknob to entwine with mine once more before his tongue runs over my lips again. Despite this being the third time it happens, it still doesn’t fail to bewilder me nor bring a boyish smirk to his face when I look at him, speechless.

“Thanks. Today nice. I-,” he starts up and averts his gaze to the side, a rosy flush on his cheeks, “I mean, today was nice.”

I put my hand on the side of his face, gently compelling him to look at me. A cheeky idea rises in my mind, tempting me to go against my very nature.

Which I do.

Standing on the tips of my toes, I close my eyes and give him a peck on the cheek. The action surprises us both because he looks utterly gobsmacked when I have gathered very piece and sliver of the courage needed to look up at him.

However, before I can utter a word, a hesitating hand reaches out to carefully brush against my cheek, the touch as light as the fall of a feather on porcelain. The gentleness of the contact forms a funny contrast to the roughness when he firmly presses his lips on mine the second after.

Musk mingled with the musty perfume of books, warmth of spices and bitter coffee with a hint of fresh cologne fills my nose and overtakes the senses. My brain short-circuits, filled with a strange primal instinct no one has ever awakened before. Notwithstanding, something in the way our bodies harmonize in the small yet passionate contact triggers it, leaving me wanting more.

Skin on skin.

Just us.

But it’s too early and we barely know each other. This isn’t right. Not now, at least.

Hence is why I pull away, taking a step back with the imprint of his moustache ticklish on my lips. 

A whimper like an abandoned puppy erupts from his throat as he chases after my mouth. Nevertheless, when I take a step back to avoid further contact, he gives up and lowers his head. However, as rapidly as disappointment had overtaken him, he rights himself and clears his throat. When he speaks up, the words come out in a mumbled mess. “I- I’m sorry. That was too direct.”

“No, it’s fine,” I reassure him, vaguely gesturing with one hand while I rub the back of my neck with the other. “I- I liked it, but let’s not- Do you... really see me that way?”

“In what way?” he asks, blinking as he gives me a blank look. But, the meaning dawns on him after a moment in which I badly try to articulate what I mean. 

He grabs my right wrist, the one he bit, and holds it up for me to see. The broken skin has already healed a bit, but it’s still sensitive and throbbing, especially now that JB puts pressure on it. “I didn’t do this out of some de- del- confused?”

“Delirious?” I help him, wondering what point he is about to try and convince me of. 

“Delirious! I didn’t do this out of a delirious frenzy. This means something to me. Something important. To me, this is us.” JB takes in a deep breath to steady himself, his voice strained as he seems to hold something in. “What I want for us. And I want others to know this because you’re my territory.”

“I’m just a friend.”

And scared of losing you to Love.

“You are, but you’re also more to me. I know you said you want to take things slow and I agree with that.’’ His expression softens, dark eyes filled with tender affection. ‘’However, I want you to know how I really feel about you.”

“I don’t want to risk our friendship.”

“Me too. Yet,” he closes the distance and cups my face, his thumbs lovingly brushing my cheeks, “you deserve to know my intentions. Know I want to take the risk when you’re ready to do so too.”

“Thank you.” I run my hands over his arms, his body heat warming my palms through the fabric of the sleeves. It’s a pleasant thought, knowing he is there to catch me should my knees give out. Which is likely to happen as the leftover tension from our trip upstairs fades and affection fills the heart. 

“For what?”

“Waiting.”

Until I figure out when it’s the right time.

He nips at the tip of my nose, his tongue cheeky in its feather light touch. “I always will. Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

“I’m going out for tea with a friend.” The delight in his expression sours as it did in the park, the confident playfulness replaced by a vicious brooding. The autumn chill cools my face, the warmth and safety of his hands fallen away. 

Turned to stone by the suppressed vehemence, I stumble over my words as I swiftly explain myself. “She is an old friend I met at university. We go out for tea or coffee often, especially before I have to go on a trip.”

“Ah, I see.” He hangs his head in remorse, but perks up immediately as if remembering something. “I got you something. Wait here.”

He rushes inside, coming back soon after with two books in his hands which he holds out to me. A collection of Keats’s poems and Songs of Innocence and Experience by William Blake.

The books I read when we met.

“For you,” JB happily announces, the bright proud ring in his voice distorting it to sound like a bark. “So you have something to read when you’re away.”

 “Thank you so much. That’s so sweet of you.” I accept the gift, showing my gratitude in the brush over his fingers as I take the books from his hands. “I should get you something in return.”

“Just send me a reminder to take my medication every day.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s all I want.”

I nod. “I can do that.”

“And a text you arrived home safely.”

“Of course.”

“And let me pick you up from the airport when you come back.”

“My, do you have any other demands?”

Lips pursed as if seriously considering the rhetorical remark, Jaebeom tilts his head to the side. “Well, eating together again would be nice. Maybe we can go around town and try out various cafés and go bookshop hopping? I could also cook for you at least once a week, though I’ll have to ask Jinyoung to teach me.”

Oh my God, he really is serious.

Before he continues adding to the evidently growing list, I cut him off. “Okay, okay, I hear you. One thing at a time, alright?”

“Right,” he chuckles, “one thing at a time.”

“I’m gonna go.” With a heavy heart full of reluctance, I initiate our goodbyes. “Go to bed and get some rest before your fever worsens. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Can I have one more kiss?”

“Of course.”

I stand on the tip of my toes and tenderly press my lips against his. “Goodnight, Jaebeom.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

I ascend the stairs, but do not head home immediately. Instead, I remain where I stand and turn around to wave at the wolfish man gazing down at me.

One more moment with him.

Before I set off on the homebound journey in the next.

Above, the moon is waning.

Yesterday evening, Morgan sent pictures of the place she has chosen for our next tea adventure, lyrical about the interior. Since the moment we met, in our first year of studying journalism at the local university, we have been visiting coffee shops and tea rooms around the country and occasionally written an article about them for the university’s blog. Our adventures always begin the same, never having changed in the six years we have known each other.

A picture.

And a rant about aesthetics, reviews, and the potential of having discovered a hidden gem.

The latter might be the case of Moon Bunny Coffee and Tea, a tea room inspired by the French countryside. The far wall is made of bare brick, which forms a strangely yet nice contrast to the white wooden furniture and neatly set tables. From the speakers in the corners of the establishment, instrumental pieces and French songs alternate each other to enhance the atmosphere that makes one feel as if they are truly in France. And if the interior does nothing for the imagination, the pastries and beverage names noted in French on the menu will do the trick. 

It’s only recently opened and is run by a young couple. Élise, the owner, has opened this establishment after working in various patisseries in Paris during her teenage years. However, she has now settled here with who I actually presume rather than know is her partner. According to the context Morgan sent, the tall guy with pale blond hair, oval narrow face and a leather necklace with a strange bauble - that seems to change colour - hanging from it is called Mark. The level of familiarity between the two as they work makes it easy to assume there is more than friendship, hence the suspected relation between the two.

“So, have you seen him again?” Morgan takes a sip of her cinnamon and apple tea, a smirk on her cherry red lips.

I told her about Jaebeom and the strange first encounter with him. Regardless of the weird amiability that grew between us as the hours passed in each other’s company, I could not help but remain wary. After all, the bookseller has a particular reputation thanks to the rumours created by the local gossip mill. In hindsight, it’s idiotic I used those groundless stories in my analysis or, rather, overanalysis of the kindness he showed me. Yet, I did, though they sound as absurd as they did before now that I know him better.

Notwithstanding, whereas I was losing my sanity anxious bit by anxious bit as I told her about it over the phone, Morgan’s enthusiasm grew at the same rate. Each argument in favour of the concern about my strangeness or far-fetched theory he was merely polite, she countered with a more realistic view on the situation. In the end, it’s also her input which led to me dropping by Paper Souls on the way to work and back on a daily basis.

And I’m glad she’s part of the reason I did because I might otherwise have given up after the third day of seeing the bookshelves cast in shadows. 

“I have,” I admit, unable to suppress a smile at the memory of our outing to the park.

And what came after.

The memory of the chafing of his moustache triggers a phantom of the loving warmth of his lips on mine. Cheeks heat up, remembering the roughness of his sturdy hands. A sharp sting followed by a throbbing treks through my wrist again, the half-healed wound suffering from a pleasant phantom pain.  

“Judging by that grin of yours, you’re not telling me everything.” Morgan cuts her scone in half and smears some of the homemade strawberry jam it comes with on one half, followed by a dollop of clotted cream. 

I nibble on the rice cake filled with red bean paste. Maybe it’s not a perfect partner to the tea I chose although it makes for a delicious combination regardless. The taste of red beans is an acquired one, but the subtle sweetness evens out the bitterness of the beverage. “We went on somewhat of a date.”

“Somewhat?”

“It kind of just happened.” The whiskey tea I ordered is stronger than I thought, howbeit not in an unpleasant way. Like the real drink, it goes down smoothly and warms the body from within. “He offered to go out for lunch in the park and I agreed. It was nice. Really nice.”

Especially his body heat, the safety of his presence. How protected I felt despite not knowing him all that well.

“And?”

“And?” I repeat like a parrot. I know what she’s unconsciously aiming at, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll tell her outright. It’s always fun to tease the raven-haired woman a little. 

“Details, lass!” 

“We kissed,” I say, the confession hardly louder than a whisper. ‘’And I was the one to initiate it.’’

“How scandalous.” In fake shock, she clasps her hand over her mouth. “You’re a bold one, Y/N.”

“Oh, stop it.” I take a sip of tea and point at the other half of her scone. “Clotted cream with jam instead of the other way around now?”

As a fierce defender of both sides of the old discussion, Morgan indeed now smears the fluffy white cream on the other half first before she tops it off with the jam. “You really like him, don’t you?”

“I do, but I’m not sure if there’s a future for us.” I lean back, cross my arms and look out the window. 

A little distance away, there’s a metal bench and somehow an image of myself sits on it, alone. No wonder she looks glum because she is the me of the future, a woman who’s heart was devoted to the type of love that is, like humans, a plaything of Time.  

She tilts her head to the side, brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”

“It’s not my place to say this, but,’’ I turn back to her, absent-mindedly rubbing the mark on my wrist, ‘’he told me he has this condition that’s kinda like dementia, but he gave off the impression it’s also not. I don’t know what’s going on, only that there’s a deadline. A cruel one, and while I know avoiding it is futile, I’m not ready to face it nor will I ever be.”

The confusion on her face lightens to understanding concern. However, despite her features softening, there remains a hint of brooding in her attitude. “I see. It’s like that,” she murmurs cryptically as she takes a bite of her scone, more to herself than as a reply to me. “The story is repeating itself.”

“Morgan,” the mention of her name makes the raven-haired woman snap out of her reverie, “what do you mean?”

Instead of providing a proper answer, she dismisses the questions with a vague gesture. “Just the murmurs of an old soul.”

There is inherent beauty in the medieval cities of Europe that leaves one in awe wherever they go. Furthermore, the shops specialized in local goods and hidden gems add to the flair of narrow streets enclosed by tall buildings that breathe history. Nevertheless, regardless of the ancient beauty, there is nothing which can compete with a warm bed at the end of a day full of running from one end of the town to the other in search of the best chocolatiers.

Well, there is one thing.

As I’m putting on my pyjamas, my phone gives off a light buzz, indicating a new message. 

Jaebeom: Can we video call? I miss your face. 

You... You miss seeing me?

In spite of the unease of not having makeup on, I oblige and call him first. It has not even gone over once before messy black locks show up on screen. However, before he can have a good look at me, I quickly slink beneath the blanket.

“What’re you doing?” He, too, is in bed howbeit without any insecurity whatsoever. In fact, he is more than comfortable wearing not even a top regardless of the chilly weather, leaving defined collarbones and defined chest muscles on display. 

“I’m not wearing makeup, so I look horrible.”

And you showing up like this doesn’t help either.

Because the bare skin, little as it is, unleashes a storm of butterflies in the stomach. The temperature in the room rises or maybe it is simply my body reacting to the aching to run my fingertips over his definitions, the features that unintentionally unleash an absurd frenzy holding the middle between unashamed love and lust. The cheeks heat up as the need for the thick comforter decreases yet the growing discomfort is not enough to come out of hiding. 

“I’m sure you don’t.” Either intentionally or not, he puts on irresistible puppy eyes. The well-meant tenderness in his voice also stirs something in me, charmed by the kindness. “Please don’t hide. I want to see you.”

Although reluctant, I lower the sheets. 

Only to want to pull them over my head at his words and the stupidly bright smile accompanying them. “You’re even prettier like this.”

“Shut up, you weird wolf,” I grumble, jaw clenched as I strain myself not to hide again. To distract us both, I change the topic. “Did you take your meds?”

“I did! And I mean it. No, no, no! Get out from under there. Y/N, come on. I’m not lying. You are pretty. And caring and nice and-’’

“You’re handsome.” I glare at him, peeking just over the edge of the sheet. Unfortunately, my revenge isn’t successful since it merely yields a low chuckle.

Though it seems the victory is still mine because he bites on his bottom lip and softens his voice further to a timid whisper. “Even with my new look?” 

He shows off the mess of his shorter black locks, which are shaved on the side and longer on top. It’s a shame to see the long hair go because I personally think it suits him better, but he pulls the cooler style off too.

“Even more so because of it.” Although they’re essentially minor changes, it casts Jaebeom in a whole other light. He’s still a wolfish man, and I doubt I’ll ever see him as something else, but the new look gives him a more human allure. As if he’s tuned in better to life in the city instead of wandering the rough landscape in his mind. 

“I’ll tell Jinyoung he did a good job, then.” He gets up on his elbow, a view of the upper part of his chest filling the small screen. The veins in his hand form mellow ridges on the back of it, highlighting a few patches where the skin has scraped off, as he fluffs his pillow before lying down again and snuggling into it to get comfortable. “How’s Bruges?”

“It’s a really pretty city. I think you’d like it.” A wistful smile forms on my lips, in part dazed by the entrancing sight a moment ago. “I wish you were here. Wish we could get lost forever... together! I mean, get lost together. Here. In the city.”

“Are you getting sleepy?” His features soften into a dreamy expression though a cheeky spark illuminates the night sky in his eyes. 

“No,” I fiercely protest. That is, until an involuntary yawn escapes me, which makes it impossible to hide the fatigue of running about town the entire day anymore. “Maybe.”

“Go to sleep, Y/N.”

“Don’t want to. We’ve only been talking for a few minutes.” I conceal another yawn by pulling up the comforter.

“You likely have another busy day ahead. So go hit the hay and I’ll talk to you in my dream.”

“Who says I won’t do the same?’’ I remark smugly, proud of the comment that pops up and is too tempting not to make. ‘’Wouldn’t that make it our dream?”

“We’ll talk in our dream,” he corrects himself, a content hum following the correction. Notwithstanding, the delight darkens into a stern seriousness as he tries to look over my shoulder to scan the room, to inspect every nook and cranny instead of what’s on display in the background. “By the way, what’s your colleague doing? Are you alone?”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “He has his own room because he tends to want more of the local taste, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t.” A deeply puzzled expression forms on his face, clearing the spine-chilling suspicion. “Is that code for something?”

“An affair, JB. My colleague more often than not enjoys a one-night stand, if not more, with local girls. It depends on how long we’re away.”

“Have you ever done that?” It has to be the exhaustion, but the question strangely sounds like a whine.  

“Never. In fact, you...” I bite my lip as my stomach ties itself into a nauseating knot, chest constricted with bleak worry about what he will say about the confession balancing precariously on the tip of the tongue. However, I swallow hard and continue the unfinished sentence. “You’re the first guy I’ve dated.”

“We’re dating?”

“Are we?” His question makes me wonder if we actually are, if I didn’t jump to a fantastical conclusion. Then again, we kissed, went out together, and drank coffee in his shop. Nevertheless, also judging by the curiosity in his response, I doubt it’s right for me to assume it’s true. “Well, maybe we aren’t. After all, we’ve only been to the park, so I suppose-’’

I’m wrong, because we barely know each other and yet. Yet, I kissed him. And he kissed me back. Is that anything to go by, a valid reason?

“We’re dating!” The sudden outburst catches me as much off-guard as the enthusiastic addition or, rather, plan for when I return. “I’ll cook for you after bringing you home. Afterwards, we can just sit on the couch and read. You can also nap on me to cure your jet lag. Does that count as a date?”

“I don’t know if it does according to the official terms, but,” the fatigue ebbs away, replaced by the giddiness of going home as soon as possible, “it does to me.”

“Two dates,” he murmurs thoughtfully, nodding as if confirming an unspoken notion. “We’re dating.”

Weirdo.

I watch him analyze the situation, overcome with affection. When he bites down on his index finger to suppress a broad grin, I almost have to do the same. 

“I wish I was there with you,” Jaebeom eventually notes to break the twilight hush, at last content on where we stand. The yearning of the wish is tangible in my bones because I feel the same way, though I try not to show it. “I should’ve given you a shirt or something, but I wasn’t sure if it would be good. That’s not the word. Ap... ap... appropropiate? Appropriate. If it would be that.”

“I do have the books you gave me, so I do have a piece of you here.”

But I do miss your scent. Wait, that’s weird to say. I shouldn’t say that.

Though it’s indeed strange and I don’t tell him, it isn’t a lie. Jaebeom does smell nice, like a wild forest in which the air is scented by a cologne that barely conceals its secret. The ferocious guardian in the shadows. 

 “Still, I wish I had given you something that marks you as mine.” Gaze downcast, the big wolf man pouts at the thought, sulking. 

“You have.” I hold up my wrist, the place where he bit me now nothing but a red blotch.

“It’s almost gone. I should renew that once you’re back. A shirt and bite. That should show other males we’re together,” he muses, the disappointment gone in an instant as his focus changes.

“Totally not possessive, are we?”

“I’m not,” he grumbles. “Just marking my territory.”

“JB, you are.”

“Does it bother you, make you upset?”

“Yes and no.” I take in a shaky breath, distracted by the thought of the implications I want him to be. After all, something about the feral allure melts any resistance and lets me slip into a headspace I didn’t know I had. 

Somewhere, deeply hidden in the brain, there’s a different woman, a different ego. A part of me which wants and needs him. That doesn’t mind being his possession.

His mate. 

“Don’t get me wrong-’’

“How can I get you good?”

The unintentional play on words uttered by urgent yet confused puppy eyes distracts me from the splendid explanation I wanted to give him.

How... How does he do it? Does he even know what he’s doing? Never mind.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” I begin anew, “I appreciate your concern for me and I really do feel safe with you. But you bit me. In public too! I get it’s your way of telling me you like me and maybe I don’t actually mind the mark you left behind so much-’’

“So it’s not the biting?” A boyish smirk plays on his lips. Had he had an actual tail, it would have been swishing heavily with a dangerous cheer. “I can do it again?”

“No.”

Maybe someday I’ll let you. But not anytime soon.

“But you said you didn’t mind my mark. If that isn’t a problem, why can’t I refresh it?”

“Jaebeom, please, let me finish talking.”

“Sorry.”

“Thank you.” I take in a deep breath. “Now, normal human couples don’t bite each other to let others and one another know they belong together. So let’s try to find other ways to do just that. Commonly, the girl wears the guy’s shirt. I think that’s a good starting point for us.”

“What are other ‘ways’?” he asks, evidently not too keen on the idea.

I tilt my head, trying to come up with the most frequent ways in which people casually express being taken without immediately suggesting obvious physical marks. “Necklaces, bracelets and rings are common couple items. Some even go as far as getting matching tattoos.”

“I like the sound of that, a tattoo. Permanent. Permanent human mark.”

“Let me think about that one, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods in agreement. “But, if I understand you correctly, I can give you a shirt.”

“You can.”

“And you’ll wear it because it has my scent on it.”

“That’s kind of the idea behind it,” I confirm, glad he understands the underlying meaning despite not explaining it.

He looks down at his chest only to discover he’s not wearing anything. The glance over his shoulder falls on a black shirt somewhere behind him. He turns away, grabs the piece of clothing and holds it tightly against his body when he turns back to me. “Sounds good to me.”

I guess I’ll be given a ‘welcome home’ present.

[americasass81]

Make Her Mine - Chapter Four

{Warning: 18+, Dark theme, Non-Con, Violence, Mention of Breeding, Swearing, Smut}

Seriously do not read if any of this upsets you, the warnings are there for a reason.

A/N: Getting a bit darker here, this is also the first chapter with major smut so please be kind.  Not to spoil it, but I’ve always wondered about the various things a certain item could be used for and have put that imagination to use a bit here.  Hope you all enjoy it.

Word Count:- 3,117

Waking up with a mild headache, you looked around confused at your current location.  Slowly as you checked yourself for injuries, the memory of Tony Stark walking into your hotel room came flooding back and you found your heart beating faster.  While wondering what the sick fuck was up to, you at least calmed down a bit when you realized you and your clothes seemed to be intact.  Foolishly looking around for your getaway bag, though you didn't expect to find it, you instead moved to the door to find it unlocked.

Poking your head outside and seeing nothing but a hallway with various doors, you quickly closed it and went to check out your surroundings.  Survival 101 dictated that you first look for anything to use as a weapon before checking any and all means of escape.  Entering through the only other available door, you were greeted by a reasonable bathroom that, while well furnished, held nothing of use but a roll of paper, a bar of soap and a washcloth.  The window you noted was actually built into the ceiling with no possible way for you to reach it, so to save time, you abandoned this room in favor of the bedroom.

Quickly and quietly as possible, a thorough search here resulted in the same lack of viable options with a duplicate overhead window providing a glorious view of the clear blue sky you were currently a prisoner from.  Taking a moment to think through the alternatives, and suspecting that Tony may have picked this place for a reason, you quickly got out of your head and made your way back to the bedroom door.  Seeing a set of double doors at the end of the hall on your right, you assumed this was the master bedroom and so headed to the left.  Had you taken the time, the two doors opposite yours would have revealed another bedroom and the main bathroom.  As it was, the archway now in front of you opened up into a spacious kitchen and living room, with two doors, one of which you hoped led to freedom.

                    *************

Reaching for one, you stopped cold when you heard a dark chuckle behind you.  Turning slowly, you pressed your back to the door when you saw Tony standing before you with a cup of coffee and a sinister smile.

"Good morning, darling.  I see you've been exploring."  As if by magic, a screen appeared showing your recent scavenger hunt through your rooms.  Reaching for the door again while staring at him, Tony moved quicker than you thought possible and caged you between his powerful arms before bringing his lips to your ear.  "Both those doors are locked Y/N, this time you're not going anywhere."  With that a gloved hand came to rest just above your left breast where you felt a quick, sharp pick.  Moving your top aside, you thought you saw movement under the skin before your eyes shot up to meet Tony's.

"Mr. Stark, what did you do?" 

"Nanoparticles." he simply replied, stepping back to release you.

"Na-Nanoparticles?"

Taping the housing unit on his chest, you watched as a liquid-like material spread out over his body before becoming his suit of armor.  The real horror hit you however, when you felt a mild pulse around the injection site.  Placing your hand over the area, your eyes widened when another screen popped up with your employee picture and an unbelievable amount of information.

"Now thanks to my little friends, I not only know everything about you, but I can also track you anywhere.  You will never be able to hide from me again."  Seeing the realization dawn on your face, Tony flashed you his usual smirk before continuing.  "They also tell me nifty little bits about what your body is up to.  Which means right about now is when you might want to calm down." he said, concern clouding his features as he looked at the numbers on the screen.

"Calm down?  How the fuck do you expect me to calm down?  Not only have you kidnapped me, but you've just injected me with god-knows-what type of technology that allows you to track me and . . ."  Beginning to have trouble breathing and feeling light-headed, anything else you wanted to say was cut off as you slid down the door.

Tony was back by your side in a split second and picking you up, sat both of you on the couch and held you as your breathing slowly returned to normal.  "Feeling better darling?  I tried to warn you."

Glaring at him now that you had calmed down, you tried to free yourself from his arms but his grip held firm.  Resigning yourself to the fact that you were stuck, you looked at him and voiced another question on your mind.  "Have you thought about what you're going to do when Miss Potts finds out what you've done?  Not to mention the fact that I have pretty powerful friends."

"Ah Miss Potts?  You know I just love the way company gossip has even reached the Accounting Department.  Pepper and I have never, nor will ever be an item.  Besides, I'd have thought office gossip was beneath you?" he questioned, arching a perfect eyebrow at you.

"Just because I never took any active part in it doesn't make me deaf or dumb.  I still heard things." you pointed out while testing the hold he had on you.

"Fair point, my darling.  As for your friends however . . . boy, that Sabrina is something else.  Actually threatened the Avengers, she did.  Still I dealt with her and her husband."

Fear and dread clutched at your heart like nothing you had ever felt before and it felt like Tony had physically stabbed you.  Remembering your boxing and long ago self-defense classes, you head-butted him as hard as you could and used his confused state to scramble away.  You only made it halfway between the two rooms however, when a sharp pain in your chest caused you to collapse on the floor.

Curled up and hugging yourself as the aftershocks slowly subsided, Tony reached out to soothe you as he knelt by your side.  "Now why did you make me do that, darling?  I never wanted you to find out what else those nanoparticles could do.  Shush now, let me take care of you."  Trying to move away from him, you couldn't help the tears from falling as you thought about what he had done to your friends or what he had planned for you.

                     *************

Picking you up eventually, this time he walked back to your room and placed you gently on the bed.  Forcing yourself to look at him, you wiped away the tears as you found your voice.  "What did you do to my friends?"

"Nothing, I promise.  If possible, I can do without a war against the New York Mob.  I don't know how much you know about your friend, but he can be quite ruthless.  No, I simply created a false trail that has you currently being treated at a facility in Denmark."

"What's so special about Denmark?  Surely you could have picked somewhere in the States?"

"I could have," he agreed, "but  I figured there's less chance of them getting on a plane to visit you in Denmark."

"And the nanoparticles?  What happened out there and what else can they do?"

"Aw Darling, I'd rather not answer that." he said, reaching out to move a stray strand of hair while you flinched back from him.  Sighing deeply, his hand fell by his side as he gave in.  "What happened in the other room was a minor pulse emitted by the nanoparticles, it can go a lot higher.  But I'd rather that not happen." he quickly added, as you scrambled further away from him.  "Still they also have the ability to repair a certain amount of tissue damage, so that's a plus."

"So what you're saying is you can pretty much control me now because of those nanoparticles.  What do you have planned for me?" you demanded, fearing the answer but needing to know all the same.

Looking away from you, Tony seemed to think long and hard before rising from the bed and answering.  "How about we park this conversation for now.  You must be hungry." 

"Fuck you Stark, I'm not hungry.  Tell me what your sick mind has dreamed up."

"Y/N, we had this conversation back in my office." his tone indicating his patience was limited.  "While I'd rather make things pleasant, I'm not above putting manners on you if I have to.  Now, shall we?" he asked, holding out his hand to you.

Leaping off the bed however, you failed to make it to the door before Tony tackled you and held you down.  Securing your hands above your head with more nanoparticles, he flipped you over before ripping your clothes from you.  Then an unparalleled fear gripped you as he spread your legs before kneeling between them.  Watching him undo his pants, you tried your best to get away from  him but to no avail.  Removing his cock, you stared in horror as he spit on his hand before running it up and down his length.  Redoubling your efforts, all the fight died in you when he held your hips, lined himself up with your entrance and thrust into your dry pussy.

Releasing a scream that rose from the very depths of your soul, Tony was too busy using you to care, while you couldn't figure out how you didn't pass out already.  "That's it darling, let it all out and scream for me.  I didn't want our first time to be like this, but maybe this will teach you to be a bit more polite." he taunted, as he continued to plough into you in spite of your obvious distress.

"Tony please . . . fuck stop.  It hurts so much." you cried as he pounded into you harder than you thought possible.  Increasing his speed and pushing your knees forward so his hard shaft could reach deeper, you felt the coil tighten in your stomach, but before you could reach your climax Tony groaned above you as you felt him paint your walls with his seed.

Pulling out, he picked you up and placed your naked body on the bed before the nanoparticles secured your wrists to the headboard.  Kissing you tenderly, he walked to the door before your cries forced him to turn around.

"Mr. Stark.  Tony, you can't leave me like this.  I'll do anything.  You don't even need to release me, just make me come."

"No Y/N, this is what you get.  I tried to be reasonable, but your attitude just won't change.  So until you prove grateful for all I've given you the last three years, you can lie here and take what I give you."  With that, he exited your room, leaving you naked, unsatisfied and completely at his mercy.

                   *************

Looking at the cameras installed throughout the property, he watched you trash about until you wore yourself out.  While he hated himself for what he did, he couldn't reconcile the meek you that kept turning down his attention with the ungrateful brat before him.  Even as you screamed and cried his name, you still refused to beg or apologize.  He had to wonder if perhaps this situation just brought out the worst in you.

Watching you eventually drift towards an exhausted sleep, Tony was pissed to discover a missed voicemail on your phone from your friend Sabrina.  It was bad enough that she couldn't give him time to convince you to be his, but upon playing the message, he discovered what she really thought about him.  There and then, after phoning in a quick update on your location and condition to Mr. Stan, he decided he had to find a permanent way to keep your mob friends from you, lest they try to turn you against him.  However a more important matter threatened to derail his whole plans when he discovered an email from your boss Melinda, informing him that you hadn't reported into work since Wednesday.  Thankfully however, being who he was made this an easy problem to fix, though it did worry him as to whether he may have overlooked some other minor detail which might later come back to threaten the life he planned to build.

Setting aside your phone and watching you, he figured he should take his own advice and try to break you quickly so the two of you could become the couple he imagined.  Making himself a quick meal, he then proceeded to deal with some urgent work stuff before checking back in with you.  Seeing you finally stir, he decided to bite the bullet and see if your attitude had improved.  Rising and heading to the fridge for a health smoothie which he hoped you'd drink, he headed off to your room to see if pleasure or pain was the order of the day.

Placing the glass on the bedside table, he released your hands from the bed and drew you onto his lap before bringing the glass up to your lips.  "Y/N, darling, I need you to drink this.  Can you do that?"  Shaking your head, while unknowingly snuggling deeper into his warm body, your eyes widened in shock when you finally opened them to take in the scene before you.

"T-Tony, what the fuck?  Let me go." you croaked out, trying futilely to pull away from him.  He didn't let you go however, and before you could steel yourself, the nanoparticles emit the same pulse that floored you in the kitchen.  This time however Tony's arm wraps around you as you hold on to steady yourself.

"Darling I'm sorry, but the sooner you learn the sooner I can actually disable that feature.  You'd like that, wouldn't you?"  Glaring at him while nodding your head, your eyes quickly fell to the glass now held in his other hand.  "Is my girl finally ready for a drink?" he asked as he followed your gaze.

"Yes." you rasped and he brought the glass to your lips as you opened your mouth to accept the liquid.  Drinking a bit too quickly, he had to remind you to take it easy so you didn't choke.  When you had drank it all, he lay you back on the bed before returning the glass to the table.  Then in a move that had you terrified, he took off his shoes before joining you on the bed and moving between your legs.

Scrambling backwards towards the head of the bed, he quickly and easily pulled you down, before placing his hands on your hips to keep you in place.  "Y/N, I just need to check there's no lasting damage done, okay?  Can you let me do that."

"No, don't fucking touch me.  You can't do what you've done and then act all concerned.  You're a monster, plain and simple." you screamed while thrashing as best you could against his hold.

"Fine you see a monster, so be it."  With that he tapped his housing unit and you watched in horror as countless nanoparticles made their way down his arm, along the sheets and settled in to secure your arms and legs to the bed.  Spread wide open for him, fear filled your eyes when Tony held up his palm as a penis shaped object took form.  Moving forward towards your pussy, you found your voice and finally begged.

"Tony please, whatever you're planning, don't do it.  I'll behave, I promise.  Just please don't put that thing in me.  I thought you said those things already in me could tell you what was going on inside me "

"They do darling, but this is simply a much quicker way to check there's no damage.  I promise I'll be gentle, just don't move."  Then moving his hand, he lined the object up with your entrance and gently pushed it in.  Checking data on a screen, but hearing you wince from how tender you still were from not being wet enough, he slowed his movement slightly before looking up at you.  "Breathe darling, I know it hurts but you're doing so well.  It will be over shortly."

Pushing in the final few inches, he took a few minutes to lean forward and kiss you gently before going back to the screen to see what was going on.  Seemingly happy with what he saw, he looked back to you with a grin that sent fear shooting down your spine, while somehow at the same time sending heat towards your core.

Pulling his palm away from you so only a small part of the object remained, he slid it back in just as gently as before.  Continuing to thrust it in and out, it didn't take long for you to start moaning beneath him.  While trying to move still proved impossible, the friction he created was doing amazing things to your pussy and this only moved up another notch when he again leaned forward and wrapped his lips around your left nipple.  Sucking and nibbling until your nipple was erect, he bit down gently before furnishing your right nipple with the same treatment.  Getting closer and closer to your peak as his hand began moving faster, the coil in your stomach snapped and you came when Tony moved his other hand down to pinch your clit.

Reducing the thickness of the makeshift cock to make its exit easier, he couldn't hide the smirk on his face as you sighed contentedly while trying to control your breathing.  "Well Darling, it's safe to say there's no permanent damage done.  Now, what do you say we see about putting a mini me in you?"  With that, he quickly removed his clothes, returned between your spread legs and thrust in to the hilt before you even registered what he had said.  Having just come, he had no trouble this time sliding in and out of your slick pussy and it wasn't long before he had you reaching for the edge once again.  With just a few more thrusts and some well timed flicks to your clit both you and Tony cried out as you came around him while his cum shot out, drowning your cervix.  Collapsing on top of you, he didn't stay there long before he pulled out and drew you back against his chest after the nanoparticles released your aching limbs.  Placing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder it didn't take long for both your breathing to return to normal and you fell asleep in each other's arms.

Tagging:- @nsfwsebbie , @hoseokchild , @ironlady1993 , @floatingdaisy7 , @taintedgenre , @buttercandy16 , sorry if I missed anyone.

[midnight0stars]

AH This is such a cute idea! I love things like this! 

Thank you SO much for the support! I hope you enjoy!

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

**Want a Taste? ~ Lexaeus x Fem!Reader NSFW**

Words: 1926

————————————–

“Can you grab me the icing bag?” You asked, holding out your hand as you stirred the fluffy, whipped buttercream.

“Of course,” Lexaeus reached over you to the cabinet, his warm body pressed against yours, making your heart flutter. He inhaled sharply as you placed a well timed kiss to his bicep, before a chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Why do I have the feeling that was planned?”

You giggled, taking the triangular plastic bag from him as you screwed on the metal tip. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.” You coyly replied, sending him a little smirk that made his smile grow the slightest bit. “I’ll never tell.”

He hummed, turning to check on the chocolate cake that was cooling on the counter. You looked after him, your heart swelling. It was rare that the two of you could spend a day together. Usually he could only stay for a quick kiss or a much too short visit, before disappearing for days, to even months on secret missions he refused to talk about. None of that mattered to you though, at least not today. It was your birthday, after all. You planned to enjoy every second with your mysterious lover.

A cold sensation startled you out of your thoughts as you darted your gaze back forward, only to see that in your daydreams, you had spooned icing that was meant for the bag, right onto your chest. With a huff of breath, you focused and grabbed another spoonful of icing, making sure it actually went into the bag. A warmth filled your cheeks, realizing that you hadn’t brought a change of clothes with you. In your excitement of a day alone with Lexaeus, you had rushed out the door to meet him at the cabin he surprised you with. There wasn’t a single thing you had packed. It was a bit embarrassing how foolishly excited you had been.

The embarrassment only continued as you tied up the top of the filled bag, ready to pipe the icing onto the cake. You turned, immediately noticing Lexaeus’ eyes drifting to your chest where the icing was smeared. Your blush deepened as you walked past him to the cake and gave a generous squeeze to the back. A strangled yelp came up your throat as the bag burst from the pressure, sending icing in every direction.

Your eyes slipped shut, your entire body turning an even deeper shade of red. No extra clothes, first time having a day off in months, and you spend it covered in icing. A warm hand slid onto your shoulder, giving your a reassuring squeeze.

“Are you alright?” Lexaeus’ deep voice calmed your knotting gut.

“Other than being wildly embarrassed? Yeah, I’m fine.” You replied with a sigh, opening your eyes to see the sugary icing splattered across your arms and clothes, even dripping down between your breasts under your shirt.

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about,” he assured you, gently gripping your chin to tip your gaze up to his.

Your heart nearly melted as you looked back at the gentle expression on his strong face. He leaned down, closing the space between you and meeting your lips together. You sighed into his mouth, sucking in a breath when you felt his tongue slide across your bottom lip, licking up the piece of frosting that had landed there. A hot breath was all that was between you when he pulled away, your eyes slipped shut as your heart pounded in your chest. Rather than embarrassment, a whole new idea swirled through your mind.

Licking your lips, you asked with a near whisper. “H-How is it?”

You could nearly feel his deep laugh vibrating through you as he murmured, “It’s delicious.”

Fluttering your eyes open, you could see his gaze dancing over you and in them the rare mischievous hint that he had something up his sleeve. You bit your lip, the corner of your mouth tipping into a smirk.

“Well… would you like some more?” You asked, your voice growing softer as his eyes met back with yours.

Maybe you were being too forward with him.

He blinked, the suggestion obviously surprising him. You noticed his ears turning red as he quickly nodded, his hands going to your waist to spin you towards him. Your breath caught in your throat as his lips met with your neck. He was slow, gentle, but the sensation of his tongue lapping up any traces of icing along your skin made you nearly tremble. His hands kneaded the sides of your waist, massaging and heating your entire body as you melted in his touch.

Your hands laced behind his neck, your head rolled to the side to give him as much access as he desired. A whimper came up your throat as his hands snaked under your shirt, pushing up the fabric. As he got to the bottom of your bra, he pulled back, both of your chests heaving as he looked into your half lidded eyes.

“May I…?” He asked between his breaths, patiently waiting until you nodded with a smile.

His own straight expression curved into a smile as he pulled the shirt over your head completely and discarded it beside you. Eyes danced over you and you could feel your entire body warming under his stare.

“What should I–”

“Whatever you want,” you interrupted him, your smirk growing as his eyes widened ever so slightly.

Reaching forward, your wrapped your fingers around his wrist and brought his hand to your breast. It wasn’t the first time either of you had gone this far, but Lexaeus was always a little bit hesitant, as if he were convinced he would take things too far without your consent. Part of you couldn’t help but wonder what he was so worried about.

What could he possibly be hiding under that calm exterior?

You squeaked a soft moan as he squeezed your breast in response, before he met your lips back together. You were addicted to him, that much was for certain. A louder moan slipped out between you as your other breast melded into his grasp. His lips left yours, once against travelling down your neck, then past your collarbone. Your hand gripped the edge of the counter, your head slung back as he licked and kissed between your breasts.

Fingers trailed behind your back, unlatching your bra and freeing your breasts, just before his mouth devoured them. His tongue pressed against your nipple, making your knees weak as his deep voice rumbled through you.

“Oooh, Lex,” you moaned, your lips parted before two of his fingers were placed along your tongue.

Your eyes shot open, your lips closing around his thick fingers as you tasted the sweet frosting caked on them.

He pulled off your breast, his entire face beet red as he admitted, “I thought you might like a taste as well.”

You merely hummed in response, swirling your tongue over his fingers and sucking every last remnant of the sugary sweetness off of them. His groans resonated through you as he subconsciously pulsed his fingers in and out of your mouth, and you couldn’t help but wish there had been something else for you to suck on. Giving one last suck, you pulled back with a pop, your head slinging back as his slicked fingers went back down, tracing the pants line that was already low on your hips.

“Ah Lex, I want you.” You pleaded, biting back a cry as he traced his fingers between your legs.

“What would you have me do?” He asked you, kissing along your stomach as he lowered completely to his knees. “I could lavish you.” He suggested, his hands running along your thighs to your backside. “Is that what you desire?”

You whined, rolling your hips forward at the thought. “I-I want you, t-too…” You clarified, sucking in a sharp breath as he squeezed your butt in tandem of kissing between your legs over the fabric of your pants.

He hummed, his voice pressed against your folds making you quiver. “After I’m done.” His fingers hooked into your pants and pantied, just before pulling both of them down to your feet.

Cold air bombarded your already slicked folds, but only for a moment, before it was replaced by Lexaeus’ hot breath. He knelt right in front of you, his mouth mere inches from where you wanted him most, where your body was nearly begging him to be.

He looked up at you, waiting for your eyes to meet with his. You swallowed hard, knowing that all he was waiting for was your consent. The second you gave it, you knew he’d bury his face between your legs until your were gasping his name. The anticipation set your nerves alight and it wouldn’t take long at all for him to push him past your climax.

You couldn’t wait.

Biting your lip, you smiled and gave him a nod. You barely noticed him smile in return before he ran his tongue between your folds. A sharp cry ripped out from your chest, your hands clinging painfully tight to the edge of the counter as your legs spread apart. It was amazing to you how he could already be a master of your body. The way he made your entire body tremble with every lick, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

Thick fingers pushed inside of you, making your head sling back as he sucked your clit. Every inch of you was tingling, just waiting to be pushed over the edge. Your lips were parted, moans unabashedly filling the cabin as your hands tangled into his hair, pushing him ever further against you, which he took graciously.  

“Lex, oooh Lex, don’t stop baby,” you groaned, just before your entire body tensed.

The corners of your vision blurred, your entire body exploding with what could only be described as pure ecstasy. Even as the waves of pleasure subsided, Lexaeus didn’t cease his ministrations. He’d pleasure you the entire afternoon if you allowed it and you could already feel the coil of another climax tightening in your gut.

“L-Lex, go inside me…” You pleaded with a near whisper, your back laying almost completely against the counter.

He groaned, giving one last lick before he stood up and unzipped his coat. You watched with half lidded eyes as the thick black fabric crumbled to the floor, barely noticing his pants crumbling beside them before he slid inside of you. A gasping moan poured out of you, your back arching as your legs wrapped around Lexaeus’ hips.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N.” He muttered, his chest still heaving as his hips grinded against yours.

You whined, your eyes slipped shut as he stretched you completely, pushing in and out of you in a way that nothing could ever compare to. His arms stood on either side of you, holding him up as he went faster and deeper. You could feel his hot, heavy breaths against your neck, occasionally paired with a sloppy kiss to your heated skin, before you turned your head and crashed your lips together.

He moaned in your mouth, his hips jerking forward with one final push, before his breath hitched. The kiss broke as he hung his head, shaking moans slipping out of him as he came. You watched him climax, continuing to roll your hips everything snapped. Both of your voices filled the kitchen, the cake and decorations long forgotten. It really was the perfect birthday.

[earsofducks]

Awake the Snake but October Because of that One Neil Gaiman Post

(Have I already done this because of #ineffable husband au week? Yes. I have. Am I doing it again? Yes. I am.)

“Hi, this is Anthony Crowley. You know what to do; do it with style.” 

Message received June 2, 2020. 

“Hello, Crowley, this is Aziraphale. I was wondering - well, it was a bit silly of me, but I was wondering if perhaps you’d decided to forego the extra month of your nap. I understand, of course, why you feel compelled to sleep through all of this - dreadful things are happening, and I am completely powerless to stop them, and it is most unpleasant - but I had hoped... Never mind. I hope you sleep well, dear boy.”

Beep.

Message received June 10, 2020.

“Hello, it’s Aziraphale again. I presume from your lack of response that you’re still sleeping. But just allow me to tell you what has been going on...

Several minutes later...

And it’s been incredibly dreary to be facing all this alone. I’m sure you would understand if you were awake. And... well, never mind. I hope you sleep well, Crowley.”

Beep.

Message received June 29, 2020.

“Me again. I must say, my dear boy, I am so looking forward to seeing you in a few days! I - oh, dear. I do hope that you’re planning on waking up earlier in the month as opposed to later, because it all gets to be a bit... well. It’s a bit overwhelming without you, Crowley, to speak plainly. I quite miss our little chats. If you - well, I can’t imagine how overwhelming waking up to it all, but I’ll be here, you know, if you ever wanted to - er - discuss current events. Perhaps over a glass of wine? We can form ‘bubbles,’ now, you know. I’m sure it would be lovely to have you at the bookshop, if you were inclined to come visit. Which you could, because of bubbles. That is to say - oh, bother it all, Crowley, I’m sure you know what I mean. Please telephone me once you’ve woken up. There’s no rush, of course. But I would quite like to hear from you. Well, anyway. I hope the last bit of your nap is deeply restful.”

Beep.

Message received July 3, 2020.

“Hello. I know that you’re asleep again, but I was m - making some, er, cakes, and they’re - I’m waiting for - I wanted to speak - hrm. I appreciate you informing me on the extension of your nap, of course, and understand the motivation behind it, but I had hoped that maybe - well. Thank you very much for your call. I hope that you’re obtaining everything you wanted from the extra sleep.”

Beep.

Message received July 19, 2020.

“I can’t recall whether or not you mentioned receiving the numerous messages that I left when we spoke on the telephone at the beginning of this month, but I do hope that these voice recordings aren’t tiresome for you to listen to. Oh, dear. Probably I should have considered this before I started leaving you so many. You understand, though, don’t you? Oh, dear. I truly don’t want to be a bother, I simply... I miss you, Crowley. I miss you very much and I wish you weren’t sleeping. There, I said it.”

Beep.

Message received July 19, 2020, five minutes later.

“But I don’t want to be a bother, so I shall stop calling.”

Beep.

Message received July 31, 2020.

“I tried very hard to restrain myself, but upon reflection I’ve realized that you are under no obligation to listen to these messages if they distress you in any way, and I believe there is no reason for me to stop sending them to you. In light of this, allow me to tell you...

Lengthy story (in which Aziraphale details his many dealings with the day’s customers) ommitted.

Message received August 18, 2020.

“I’ve found myself foolishly hoping that you’ll wake early quite frequently. I miss you dearly, Crowley. I know I’ve said it before, and I know that we have spent significantly longer apart in the past, but I... Well. I miss you. I hope you’re enjoying your nap. I’m sure it’s vastly preferable to the experience those of us that are more or less awake are having.”

Beep.

Message received September 8, 2020.

“There’s - hic - there’s something else. A reason. For me to want to call - hic - you. I... (A pause, some displeased sounds) Ah. I think I was quite drunk. Forgive my impropriety.”

Beep.

Message received September 12, 2020.

“(a long silence) Crowley - (a sharp intake of breath) I think I love you, you know. Not - bother it all. Of course I love you - how could I not? We’ve been working together for six thousand years, after all. We are friends. We have always been friends. I have never thought you a foul fiend. But I don’t just love you - it’s not just friendship, is it? Not for me. Or for you, I don’t think. This probably isn’t the time or place to tell you this, is it? I apologize. (Not for loving you. I’m through apologizing for loving you.)

Beep.

Message received September 13, 2020.

“Oh, dear. I suspect that I may have said some very... forward things last night. I‘ve been drinking a smidge more than might be deemed strictly advisable, lately. This is no excuse, of course, and I apologize for whatever... sentiment I may have communicated. (pause) Although you’re not likely to hear this until much later, are you?

Beep.

Message received September 21, 2020.

“I know what I said and I meant it, I meant it, I meant it.”

Beep.

Message received September 29, 2020.

“Did you know, Crowley, that time has never moved so slowly as it has since you’ve started sleeping? Never. Not once in my very long life have I experienced this absolutely torturous sense of waiting.” Beep.

Message received September 30, 2020.

“I’ve made up my mind. Tomorrow morning I shall come and hang on your doorbell until you wake up and let me in, and I am... Heaven help me, Crowley, I am going to tell you. I love you. I’ll see you in the morning.

I love you.”

Beep.

***

Crowley wakes to the sound of his doorbell ringing incessantly and incredibly obnoxiously. His mind is fuzzy and so are his teeth and his body isn’t quite sure how to be awake and his brain is even less so. 

“Abubwefgsh,” he says, trying to remember how to use words. 

The doorbell rings louder.

“Aghckssssss,” says Crowley, covering his ears and scrunching up his face. 

What... What...

Day. Awake. Sleep. Long. 

Aziraphale.

He sits up. 

It’s very unlikely, of course, why would Aziraphale be at his flat, but the thought is thrilling and apparently enough to get him out of bed.

He’s much more wobbly than normal (he remembers having trouble walking after his century-long nap, too) but manages to make it to the door.

He opens it without checking the peephole, because he’s never used the peephole in his life, and promptly wishes that he had checked, because now he’s...

Now he’s even more discombobulated than he was before. 

Aziraphale is here. He’s here, and that makes Crowley’s head spin, and he’s brushing past Crowley into the apartment, and that’s making Crowley’s heart do some impressive acrobatics, and, worst of all, he’s smiling.

“Good morning, darling!” he says brightly, turning to face Crowley.

“Ngaaaaaaagh,” says Crowley, trying to shield his eyes. He can’t handle a smiley Aziraphale this early in the morning. It’s too...

Hang on.

“Azzzzzzzmbrflwumph,” says Crowley, trying to address the ‘darling’ situation.

“I’ve missed you dearly,” continues Aziraphale, ignoring Crowley’s inner turmoil, “and during my time without you it occurred to me that I have not told you I love you.”

That stops all of Crowley’s thought processes faster than any thought processes have ever stopped before. When some semblance (although the resemblance is very, very slight) of capable thought returns, he finds that he has been emitting a high-pitched, teakettle-like noise for an indeterminate amount of time. Also, he’s crying.

“Oh, my dear,” says Aziraphale, hands fluttering between them. Crowley is not awake enough for this. Crowley cries harder. “Oh, dear, oh, dear,” says Aziraphale, distinctly distressed. “I ought to have waited until you were more awake.”

“Yesssssssssssssss you bloody well should have,” sobs Crowley, and then Aziraphale murmurs something apologetic and asks if he can hug Crowley. Crowley is incapable of communicating at all but somehow Aziraphale understands him anyway and pulls him into a hug that is tight and warm and safe and comforting. He immediately feels better but continues crying for awhile, feeling embarrassed but unable to pull himself together. Eventually he slows to a few shuddering gasps every so often, and then he tugs away from Aziraphale.

“Sssssorry,” he says, “I don’t - I can’t - ”

“Oh, my dearest,” says Aziraphale, still looking incredibly concerned. “No need to apologize. That was my fault. Horribly inconsiderate of me. I had months to come to terms with my feelings, and you - ”

“Love you more than anything, ‘ziraphale, c - ” his body does the post-intense-crying-session thing where it interrupts him because he needs to take deep breaths - ”’course I do. Always have.”

“Oh, Crowley,” says Aziraphale, eyes shining, and Crowley would kiss him right then and there except he’s not even breathing evenly yet and he probably looks a right mess and also he just woke up.

Suddenly it is all very much and he crosses his arms in front of himself. He wants to take Aziraphale’s hand, but knows instinctively that it would be Too Much.

“Want some breakfast?” he asks, and Aziraphale beams at him. He squints, scowling and muttering something about silly bright angels, and makes for the kitchen to scramble some eggs.

***

Later, they will talk about things properly. Later, there will be first kisses. Later, Crowley will sit down and listen to all of Aziraphale’s messages and cry again.

But for now, sitting in his kitchen, sipping his coffee and watching Aziraphale ‘mm’ his way through breakfast and feeling scattered and hot and unable to think directly about what just happened, he knows, for the first time ever, that Aziraphale loves him back. 

It is more than enough.

[cellard0ors]

Anonymous prompt request: Fordwest with “let me go”

Maybe not as good as the first time I wrote it (*side-eyes shitty tumblr app on android), but still pleased overall. Another excuse to be horny on main. Warnings for light bondage, language, and public (kinda/not really) sexiness…

“Let me go,” Preston murmurs unconvincingly against Ford’s lips.

“Hrm, I think not,” Ford returns in a soft purr as he kisses Preston again, his tongue plunging deeply into the other man’s mouth. The sweater normally knotted about Preston’s shoulders is currently being used to keep Preston’s arms bound back behind his office chair.

At first, Ford had been worried Preston wouldn’t be into this idea, as well as worried that the position might be too restrictive or painful. But once assured that everything was perfectly fine and suitable, he’d begun to have real fun, crawling upon Preston’s lap, his legs spread on either side of him. His hands cup each side of his face, fingertips trailing through his dark hair, mussing it, even as the pads of his thumbs play along his cheekbones.

Preston, for his part, answers Ford’s questing tongue with his own, a muted moan escaping him as heat flushes throughout every vein in his body. He’s supposed to be working. This is his job. He’s in his office. But with the knowledge that the door is locked and Ford is on him, practically riding him, well…

And as if to punctuate that fact, Ford grinds his hips down, moving in a lurid display that accentuates the feeling of his plush ass against Preston’s rapidly growing erection. Another sound, this one a heartier groan, escapes Preston mid-kiss and his arms strain against his bonds. Suddenly he feels Ford smiling against his mouth and, with the thought that two can play this game, Preston cants his hips upwards. Hard.

The mimic of the sexual act catches Ford off guard and he whimpers, his grip in Preston’s hair tightening, and now it’s Preston’s turn to smile. He draws back enough to huff against his mouth, “Thought you were with your brother today…”

“He’s working,” Ford returns softly, their lips still touching, his eyes glazed with lust, “Thought you knew…”

“Mmm, and you couldn’t do this with him, I take it?”

“Hard to do in front of a bunch of contractors…”

“I see.”

“…besides, wanna do this with you.”

Preston’s heart flutters at the declaration, “Really?”

Ford nods and they haven’t really ever stopped kissing, working the words in between, “Love you too, remember?”

“I do,” he returns passionately, breathlessly, their lips parting enough so that he can nose his way over to the left side of Ford’s neck, licking and sucking there, making Ford’s head knock back, a sound of pure pleasure escaping him at the action, “But I like hearing you say it. Seeing you demonstrate it…”

Ford’s hips move again, rising and falling in their own display, another recreation and Christ, Preston’s pants are growing tight. He suddenly hates his khakis more than he’s ever hated anything. He draws away from Ford’s neck, falling back against his chair and his palms are sweating, wrists fighting against what holds them back.

Again, Ford can feel the struggle, and again he seems beyond pleased. Chuckling darkly as he croons, “Problem?”

“Wretch,” Preston returns smartly and breathes in through his nose, “You are making me into a stereotype, dear. I’ve never thought of myself as the Christian Grey type, yet here I am.”

“You’re nothing like him. He’s a lousy character. Obsessive, controlling-”

“Not hearing much different, to be honest.”

“Oh, you’re different,” Ford promises and he really hasn’t stopped moving, undulating against Preston, and he’s panting now and Preston whines his name because if this keeps up…

What is it with the Pines twins and getting him worked up at his location of employment? First there was the heated affair with Stanley in this building’s elevator and now Stanford here in his office. Soon no place will be safe. Everywhere he goes will be a reminder of what he has waiting at home for him. Two brothers who love nothing more than to bring him to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

There’s softer things too, of course. Love, companionship, a sense of family. Nice, simple things that make his life stable and worth living. Things that are not entangled in hormones and primal carnality. But, to be fair, it seems to be that that they bring to his work. Not lunch dates and friendly visits, no, it’s this.

He’s not certain what it is about his work that makes the Pines brothers so…amorous, but apparently it’s an infliction neither can fight. Not that he has much room to talk. He does allow these things to happen. His heaving breathing has joined alongside Ford’s and his forehead is coated in a fine sheen of sweat as he starts answering Ford’s actions with his own, thrusting upwards and god, yes, he feels rather…rather close…

The phone rings.

The shrill sound of it makes Preston freeze, blood going cold. Ford stops as well, but while he has a look of momentary alarm, it drops, becoming something…truly wicked. Coy even, as he kisses Preston deeply again before drawing back to say wetly against his mouth, “It’s just the phone…they can’t see us…”

“They can’t-?” Preston foolishly starts and then Ford, the absolute devil, bends back enough to click the speaker on. The phone comes to life, a voice ringing out, “Mr. Northwest?”

The wide eyed look Preston shoots Ford must be terribly comical, because Ford slaps both hands over his mouth to stifle his laughter, and he just looks so goddamned pleased with himself. He’s still on Preston’s lap. Preston’s hands are tied behind his back. Preston…Preston is aroused. His dick at full mast and a voice he doesn’t recognize is talking to him from his phone’s speaker!

“Mr. Northwest, are you there?”

The sheer audacity! The-the gall! The look Preston now gives Ford would whither most people. Ford? Ford just falls forward, burying his face into the right side of Preston’s neck and the smile Preston feels there, the smile right against his skin. The little minx! The scapegrace! The-!

“I think we may have a bad connection…”

“No,” Preston manages awkwardly, even though, honestly, he should just let the call die, he finds himself answering, “I’m-I’m here…”

“Oh! Good! Okay, well, this is Mark Barnett? From accounting? I just wanted to let you know those invoices are complete and headed your way via e-mail. You told us in the last meeting that you wanted to be notified the moment they were on their way, so”

“Ah, yes, yes, I-I remember…” Preston manages and he’s being licked. Ford is licking him. The silky point of Ford’s tongue trails along one corded side of Preston’s neck and rises to his earlobe. An earlobe that disappears into the hot cavern of Ford’s mouth. Teeth gently scrap the tender flesh as Preston sighs dreamily, “Th-thank you for-ahh-for getting-getting back to muh-me as-as I requested.”

The last word comes out extremely shaky and broken because now, not only is Ford sucking his earlobe, but he’s moving again. Jesus, the feel of him. He’s rubbing and pushing, shifting himself downwards, and Preston’s been inside Ford before. He knows what it’s like to be buried deep within him and even with their clothes separating them, this is too much, too much of a reminder.

Preston mouths ‘fuck’, the muscles in his throat twisting, wrists pulling so hard against the sweater he worries he’ll somehow tear the fabric and he wants this all to be over, to be different. He wants the bonds gone, he wants their clothes gone, he wants Ford face down on his desk and for his hands to be grabbing fistfuls of his curved, full hips as he empties himself in-!

“Are you alright, sir?”

Preston knows he sounds strangled even as, thankfully, Ford pauses, as if curious to hear what will happen next, “Pardon?”

“You sound…strange…”

“Do-uh-do I?”

“Yes. Sort of…throaty…”

While it’s a relief Ford is no longer trying to bring him to the brink, it’s just as vexing to know that Ford’s body is now shaking, trembling, from glee. Preston swallows a lot of air before returning primly, “Yes, I, ah, I’m afraid I might be coming down with something.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Northwest! I hope you get better soon.”

“Yes, thank you and thank you again for your hard work. Goodbye.” He doesn’t need to look at Ford for his lover to take the hint, the last word spoken with such steely authority that Ford obeys, bending back to click the speaker off and conclude the call.

Laughter ripples out of Stanford even as Preston’s voice rises, “You absolute monster!”

If anything this just makes Ford laugh harder, his arms wrapping around himself, and it’s amazing he hasn’t fallen back to roll around on the floor. He’s close to hysterical at what just transpired and Preston glares at him, “Just wait until we get home!”

Ford wipes away some tears, “Ahahaha-ha-ha-ho-home?”

Preston makes a sound of assent, “When I tell your brother…”

“Oh? You’re not going to get your own revenge?”

“I will,” Preston promises, “But your brother? He’s the master of this sort of thing, is he not? And with my help? Why…just imagine…”

Ford gulps and it’s clear that he hadn’t given that thought. His two lovers…plotting against him…

He tries a contrite look, but currently it doesn’t sit well with him at all, “C’mon, Pres, I was just playing around…”

“And so shall I,” he intones ominously, “And so shall he…”

“Pres…”

“And so,” Preston edges up and sneaks in a kiss, “Shall we…”

[okuraiani]

Mitsuhide’s Route Live Blog

Okay, I will probably delete this once I finish his route, but somehow I’d like to share my thoughts on his route with you guys o(*°▽°*)o I will try not to get too specific and you don’t have to mind if you’re not interested, since these are simply my thoughts on the things happening! Though, if anyone has question concerning my remarks (and thus Mitsuhide’s route), please feel free to ask me anything! ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡)۶

Episode 1 So Hideyoshi is some kind of fashion guru now? Hey, who’s vassal is that, trying to kill off Ranmaru?! Somehow, Mitsuhide really has a talent for irritating Hideyoshi... seriously... Protecting a cutie is always proof of a good person. Wow, Mitsuhide that’s... I don’t know if he’s praising MC or making fun of her. Probably both. But I guess he’s worried for her. Oooh, guess who! Who wouldn’t appreciate encountering beautiful people! Especially those who are not out to kill everyone who as much as look at them. Of course, Sasuke shouldn’t be left out. As well as his BFF~ And of course Sasuke has to be the messenger of bad news... Masamune is being his usual self, huh? Uselessly excited about the prospect of war. Okay, the other guys are equally bad. Is that Ieyasu calling MC stupid in a roundabout way? Oh well, but at least Mitsunari is genuinely concerned for her... Mitsuhide, stop reading MC’s mind already lol Awww, Ranmaru, the cutie! He’d be someone I’d instantly befriend~ Uh, I sense some kind of (un)pleasant surprise... This isn’t Mitsunari’s route, so I guess the squad in the rear is certainly not... Told ya... I had the bad feeling way before you MC lol And of course, Mitsuhide has to tell her the things she doesn’t want to her at all... On the other hand... It’s totally plausible that the enemy would go for Nobunaga’s right and left hand... Oh dear... Ooooh, I sense some kind of deep-rooted trauma or something similar! Aaah, I already love that poor trickster to the point of no return! Oh, yeah, that could have been me. I’m not good with blood. And I guess there’s A LOT! That screams betrayal to me, but let’s keep calm and watch... Moreover, hasn’t anyone taught you guys not to trust strange men?! Aww, Mitsuhide is such a good guy~ Oh... ‘Kay... That... THAT surprised me. Really. And it hurts my heart a little. Heck, who am I kidding? A lot, a LOT! Why is everyone always assuming MC’s going to run away? Well... I can’t exactly hold it against them... Hideyoshi not trusting MC is not new, so I wonder why it surprises me to see Mitsuhide not trusting her... I mean, he normally reads her like an open book... Wow, that’s... a LOT! And knowing Mitsuhide, his guidance will turn out pretty spartan. But I guess I’d be happy about his attention... Probably... Maybe...

Episode 2 And we’re back to teasing lol But I guess being taught about the Sengoku era by a Sengoku warlord is not THAT bad, right? Urgh, I take that back. Why a test, Mitsuhide? Seriously? And THEN you’re surprised about her answers? Although, come on, ‘Nobu-tan’ sounds incredibly cute~ Yes, with all that history stuff my head would explode as well. Or maybe implode. Can’t decide. Okay, is it just me or is Mitsuhide surprisingly touchy-feely? That man will be the death of me, I swear! Says he doesn’t trust MC but takes her metaphor seriously! Why does he have to be so cute, dammit?! Nooo, MC, why are you running away?? Of course, he does that to tease her, what else... Yup, telling him he’s mean gives him no damage whatsoever lol Yay, two angels to the rescue~ Yeah, you tell him Ranmaru lol NO! Don’t! Get Mitsunari away from the tea! Thank god Ranmaru is such a good boy~ If this keeps going they can have a party in MC’s room lol Pfft, I KNEW it! Tell me what you want, this is a party! I’m surprised though Hideyoshi wasn’t the first to burst into the room lol Omg, Ieyasu is too precious lol I’d love some spicy pickles, too! So... Mitsuhide is either observing them or he’s displeased right now... Well, Mitsunari is just as surprised as I am... I tell you, Mitsuhide is secretly a ninja! Maybe... Yep, they are like cats and dogs, but they still love each other. Aww, big brother Hideyoshi is the best, really! Go for it, girl! Otherwise, his route would be meaningless lol Se-Self-defense skill...? A-As in... Body contact?? Oh dear... Oh no, don’t evade, please~ Yeah, tell her first! You got my hopes up... Oh? Suddenly I remember this one certain picture from the manga... Wow, he really IS spartan... MC’s level of fear is kinda not in the right order, I think? You can’t fool me, you sly fox, hah! Wow, that was low... A horse several times smarter than MC? Noo, I don’t think so. It’s literally impossible to escape Mitsuhide. Yes, the body contact I was waiting for! Nothing extraordinary, but at this point I’ll take anything lol Well, at least this time there’s no cliff involved in her first time horse riding. Okay, that’s some elementary school level reason for teasing, Mitsuhide... While MC’s fears are apparently in the wrong order, Mitsuhide’s worries are too (he wants us to believe lol) Right now MC is too cute for words. And Mitsuhide the proud (not yet) boyfriend lol Heh, I already knew that! I can already see Hideyoshi freak out when he finds out MC and Mitsuhide have something going on lol Scary, Hideyoshi isn’t joking... Of course he has too many secrets! That’s, like, in his job description. So, Mitsuhide is unexpectedly popular with women?! How did that happen?? But I agree, once you fall for him it’s pretty much impossible to hate him. Not so popular with men, though, I see... Why do I feel like Mitsuhide’s past might hunt him down in this route? I can’t count how often I’ve aww’d at him already... He’s so honest with himself but so absolutely not with everyone else.

Episode 3 Yeah, time flies by if you have fun, Mitsuhide. !? !?!? YES! A definite Yes! OMG, this man will be the death of me! I can’t stress this enough! Oh, Mitsuhide telling her to go straight back home most likely spells danger... The dungeon spells danger, too... Yup, that’s Mitsuhide’s dark side... Oh dear, I see a suspicious fox. So, when exactly does that man sleep? I mean, he has to be busier than Hideyoshi. Mitsuhide... Is that you being honest? Wow, that was quick. Now she even wants to see Mitsuhide when she can’t lol Uff, I think I heard her innocent heart shatter right this instant... O.K. I heard my heart shatter as well. I’m sure someone set him up! I hope so... Aww, MC’s such a sweet girl. Oh, I already wondered when we’ll get one of Sasuke’s trademark visits! Pfft, Sasuke’s reaction to MC hanging out with Mitsuhide... What, as if he hasn’t spread that rumor himself. Who are you kidding, Mitsuhide? You? Embarrassed? Hah! Didn’t expect that, did you? It’s so much fun to see Mitsuhide fail to handle a single almost foolishly trusting, kind and honest girl lol Really, she had him speechless so many times already. Wah, that music got my hopes up. Aaaand then the 3rd episode comes to an end. What a cliffhanger!

Episode 4 Yeah, I knew it. That was too good to be true, haha... Okay, that’s on you, Mitsuhide. Shouldn’t have taught her that lol Awww, okay, that’s enough to compensate me right now~ I’m genuinely confused. Oh, wait a minute. No way~ she can meet Mitsuhide’s pet! (It’s called Chimaki which is... something to eat, by the way lol) I have to say, Mitsuhide has his way with words... They are mostly ambiguous lol I have to ask... Does that fall under cannibalism? ... Can you believe there’s someone equally bad or even worse than Mitsunari in terms of personal maintenance? Eat some food, you goddamn handsome man! He has a point, but still! For all the teasing, at least he’s praising MC when she’s done well. Oh good gracious! I didn’t think Mitsuhide was able to tell a genuine joke! Yeah, I can relate to that. The many mysteries make him so charming lol Aww, honest Mitsuhide is always appreciated~ Yup, his teasing is indeed addictive lol Isn’t it cute how socially awkward Mitsuhide is? Like, he’s so not used to being around people. Oh dear... That screams trouble. In capitals. Ah... I think I see a pattern... Oh, okay. Didn’t see that coming. Funny how he knew exactly where she would go... Yeah, Hideyoshi is not amused. Big scoop? Secret revealed? Seriously? That’s just a different kind of torture... OMG, blushing Mitsuhide is the BEST!!

Episode 5 Tell me what you want, Mitsuhide is a gentleman. Like, deep, DEEP down lol Lap pillow? Lap pillow! Okay, who does he remind me of...? Aww, MC genuinely praising him is so cute. Oh god, Ranmaru lol I think he has a no-monopolization policy lol And now Mitsuhide is making Ranmaru cry, the poor boy. Aww, Ranmaru is such a good friend! Yup, of course Masamune has to be the supporting friend. Figured. Those two are the least amused about that rumor going around, haha... Mom and Dad don’t approve lol Especially Mom. Yeah, can you believe it? I totally can. Does Nobu-tan suspect something? Maybe. Wow, that is way out of my expectations. Hideyoshi not putting Nobu-tan first. Uh-huh, don’t mind him at all, please. Say that before going inside lol The awkward moment when your man knows more about how to properly dress as a woman than you. ....??? Says the liar, sure. Wa-Wa-Wait! Seriously?? Uuuh, Mitsuhide’s new style is really cool! (He’s posing as a traveling performer btw) ...yeah... wife!? MC is going to flip lol “I didn’t tell you?”, yeah, no, because you’re you. I can’t tell if he’s serious already or not.

Episode 6 You could have at least taught her properly lol Okay, with how fast this whole pretend thing was progressing, I expected something else lol Wow, he’s unexpectedly good at flattering. Heh, I already thought it would come to this! Argh, can’t he just decide if he’s serious or not? I sense some big evil... *gasp* I knew it. Ugh, I don’t like that guy. Like, at all. Okay, he’s officially making me uncomfortable. Men like them can just die, seriously. If that had been me, I’d have punched the living daylights out of him and would’ve died a slow and painful death right after that. Aaah, it’s a shame I won’t buy the premium stories (since I’m saving for when it’s released in English) Aww, he was looking for her! It’s such a rare sight to see Mitsuhide so kind and serious. Oh god~ He’s most likely genuinely smiling and she can’t see it~ “All right now. I should pay him back for making my lovely wife cry.” His words, not mine! Now I wonder what happened... I love how Mitsuhide talks to himself pretending he doesn’t lol Okay, now things are getting complicated. That... was fast. Like, how did he do that?! Somehow, I think Mitsuhide would have so much fun being a modern day actor lol Didn’t expect to see them there. Yuki’s cute in every route lol Why is a guy of that rank doing something like that? Most likely in secret? Not that I started liking him, but I’m confused. Oh, now that explains a lot. Confusion lifted. Again!? Come on! ... ... oh. Did I maybe get the love rival wrong the whole time? Oh man, I hope he doesn’t plan to die or anything. I started to like him a lot in Sasuke’s route. ... oh? Oh??? True, that probably IS the biggest historical discovery. Aww, the letter is cute.

Episode 7 I somehow think they will think they succeeded and the evil guy come crawling back up at the end of episode 10... Oh, that’s the fox mask I saw in Shiro-sensei’s illustration! So that’s when it becomes useful, huh? He’s really getting affectionate~ Yuki, that’s what being 500 years apart is about lol I could be wrong but... Is that Mitsuhide slightly trolling people without knowing what that actually is? lol As I said, he’d make a great modern- day actor. !? That had me surprised. Wow... how my eyes just instantly caught the word kiss before everything else lol Usually, I’m not into mean characters (mean= teasing), partly because I’m kinda like that as well, but Mitsuhide’s level of teasing is just right. He never does anything really hurtful and is able to admit if he went too far and apologizes. I really like that. Awww, there they are, his usual clothes. I really liked the costume... He really enjoys all this “As your husband” stuff lol ... he... He’s only joking right? How can he do that to my heart~? MC, joke back! Say okay! YES! Okay, I need a sec to calm down... I think my heart stopped just now. Yeah, it stopped. Wow, I don’t know if I’m happy or disappointed. But I strongly tend to happy. I feel you. Nobody can escape, MC. Ugh, really. Really!!? Why?? This is like Hideyoshi’s route! Who ordered those soldiers!? And what do they think they are doing??? I mean, MC, just knock them out! Mitsuhide taught you some self-defense didn’t he!? I really hope for you guys you don’t believe this bs... Of course Ranmaru would know. But the other’s wouldn’t know he knows. Aaah, so many secrets... Too many secrets. Ooh, Hideyoshi is impressed. I just wondered... maybe threatening him like in Hideyoshi’s route might work... Hideyoshi is impressed 2nd I’m not sure, but does that mean he trusts him? Bless you, Nobu-tan. Uuh, back story for Mitsuhide is always appreciated! That’s not exactly my top spot for a date, but... okay? No way, don’t tell me... Oh good gracious, how can he stay so calm??? I can’t. Seriously. That’s almost too much for my poor heart. I honestly physically can’t endure this. Where’s Hideyoshi when you need him?!? Gosh, is there some equivalent of lawsuit against abuse of power in the Sengoku era?? Oh? Mitsuhide has a weakness and it’s super cute. ... omg, this is intense. And not in a positive sense. Good for him that he’s fine with it. I’m not. Great, Hideyoshi. Your timing sucks, you know? I didn’t expect that. Damn, now it’s up to three villains?!

Episode 8 Relationship status: It’s complicated. Uhm... no? Thank you. Hmm? Awwwwwww~ He. is. SO. precious. Good gracious, can anyone kick these people’s behinds, please? At least that? Really, no other route had so many disturbing side characters... It’s a mystery to me, too. And you were such a good guy, Yoshimoto~ My god, just stab him already or something! I can’t decide if I hate him or pity him. Again, I’m confused. Oh, okay, I think I’m beginning to understand. Ooooh, is that a tryst? I’m joking, of course. Though I wish it was lol Hah, so she finally figured him out, huh? Yeah, that about sums it up. “Hard to understand kindness”. Woah, that’s mean. What do you mean farwell gift?! Amazing. He’s always telling MC she’s too good-natured, but who’d have thought that Mitsuhide was the most good-natured idiot of them all. Aww, my poor baby is getting wet. Oh oh... Masamune, you can’t be serious? You... have a lot of special skills, huh? You ninja-like warlord. Yay, Mitsunari is such a precious angel. I’m sure Ranmaru is trying to confirm something. Pfff, as if he’d leave unprepared. Of course he is. He dropped hints everywhere if you look close ennough. Aww, Chimaki is still there! Uuuh, go on, Kyuubei. Spill us some secrets! Wow, he’s spilling a lot of things. I anticipated something else, but that’s also amazingly cute! I very much hope this has never happened before. Who figured out that info this fast?

And, wow, I can already tell you, I normally go for the romantic ending first, but this route (very much like Kenshin’s) in and of itself is a an entire drama, so I’ll probably get all the drama out of the way in the first playthrough, haha...

Episode 9 This is really becoming a tangled mess. I don’t know who believes in whom anymore. Hideyoshi is really loyal to a fault. Okay lol So Kennyo is now out of the picture or what? Don’t you dare believe that bs, MC! Ugh, of course not! Good job, girl. It’s interesting that Hideyoshi seriously thinks Nobu-tan would take pity on anyone. He’s taking her because she will be useful, what else. Heh, it’s quite funny to see Nobu-tan so secretive. Though I wonder what he said to make Masamune grin from ear to ear lol Ugh, that guy’s so disgusting, really... I even like Kennyo better. Heck, even Motonari is slightly more likeable. Oooh, I can imagine that. ... no way. Omg, did he really work for such a disgusting prick??? Yeah. No. Those two don’t look like they’re falling for that. Okay, I was wrong. Looks like they’re totally buying it. Oh god, there are more?! I can already see Nobu-tan using MC like a human shield lol Ooooh no. Nooo... Don’t tell me that was a careless mistake. Ugh, I knew it. Yeah, what else could he want other than his one little weakness... Uuh, that was a bit harsh, you know? But I do understand. ... That’s a bit mean, to attack his weakness like that... That’s gonna be a shock for him. I’m pretty darn sure. Told ya. Do I sense a kidnapping? Maybe. “Stupid girl.” I think I heard that kind of nickname somewhere before lol Shoul I call him Oliver from now on? Awww~ Yeah, feelings do strange things to you, huh? Who do you think taught her to be like that? I’m not sure how to interpret the letter...

Episode 10 Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Sasuke for the longest time... Um, isn’t Hideyoshi’s Nobu-tan sense tingling? Omg, if you want a demon’s head, then take a look in the mirror! Thanks, at least one of us believes in him without fail. ... I don’t dare to touch my screen to see what happened... I’m SO relieved! Oh god... and what the hell’s with that calm and composed “Sorry, my hand slipped.”!!? Just... how low can that guy sink? Really now? I think I’d have already kicked him or something to shut that guy up. Don’t tell me...? Is that what Nobu-tan... Wha~t! So Nobu-tan had it all planned out as well? (Yeah, sorry. I liked that nickname too much, so he’ll probably now always be Nobu-tan to me.) Uhm, hey, MC? Would you mind, you know, stopping him from probably landing in prison again? Or worse? Wow, he’s lower than low. He already dropped below Earth’s crust. ...??? Oooh, I see. The poor people who’ll have to rebuild the place again. Do I wanna know? No. Will I read further? You bet I do. Why are Sengoku warlords always doing something stupid? Wow... I already predicted that in episode 6... Someone, anyone, smack some sense into that beautiful head of his. It’s not like I can’t understand his reasoning, but this is just. NO. Trust me, I’m just as surprised as you are. Love rival confirmed? I think so. Oh no~ When did he sleep or eat last!?? Curse you, premium story preview! (I want to read it so bad~) Awwww, Hideyoshi still cares so much~ I already knew he’s a smooth talker but... that’s too adorable. He’s almost worse than Ieyasu at being honest. But only almost. This is so like him it’s making me tear up. Seriously. Wow, it’s really hard to read when everything’s blurry haha... But man, you really can’t leave him alone. He’ll go off and do something stupid. I tell you, we all have to love the heck out of this man. Aaah, I missed this. Wow, that surprised me a bit. Bottom line: That man is absolutely, without doubt, too pure for this world! I love how Hideyoshi doesn’t consider the possibility he might be interupting something lol It’s like he’s trying to train a dog... Pffft, Hideyoshi, really? lol That’s almost cute if you weren’t in the way. Mitsuhide is so not amused. He should have tied him to MC. Awwww~ Okay, that’s definitely cute. “The next time you disappear, at least leave a letter.” Hideyoshi, don’t give him strange ideas lol Good food! Bless you, Masamune! lol Masamune is being way too optimistic about the whole thing. Mitsuhide, you’r not Mitsunari, okay? lol I’d die from embarrassment~ I wouldn’t try that if I were you, Masamune. I knew it lol Everyone would react that way. So he’s still going, huh? Aww, Hideyoshi just wants him to come home. He’s implying he’ll kill him a second time? That’s harsh lol I just imagined MC with Mitsuhide’s tone and way of speaking. It’s hilarious lol She’s seen through you, you know? Heh, who wouold’ve thought. But wasn’t that, like... in episode 2? Wow, talk about dedicated. This is so strange. I always hoped he’d share his secrets, but honest Mitsuhide is making me slightly embarrassed lol Everything was REAL~ My heart... I can’t. I think my heart is melting. Ugh, that guy is ruining my good mood~

Episode 11 (Dramatic) I know he fled, but this feels ominous nonetheless. Man, they are all so quick to throw away their lives... Yikes, that’s harsh, Mitsuhide. It’s amazing how he can be kind through being mean or harsh. Sometimes, MItsuhide’s jokes are strange lol Okay, who’s interrupting? Kyuubei~ Why? lol When did he even have time for that?? Awww, Kyuubei gets my personal Best Subordinate award~ I knew he’d come back lol She’s a totally open book to him. Well, at least his priorities are in the correct order lol Now even Mitsuhide is a bit annoyed lol ... A guest? Hmmm??? Guests? Plural! As straightforward as always, our Yuki lol Mitsuhide is not amused... Interesting... But how do they know? Mitsuhide is SO not amused lol He’s so jealous lol Right? That’s what I wanna know, too. I can tell you one thing for certain: The temporary alliances in this route are plain crazy. Heh... So he told him, then that went that way to those two and finally reached Mitsuhide and MC. Wow, what a long way to travel for some tiny information. Caring Mitsuhide must be a pretty confusing sight for those two lol OMG, Yuki is speechless and Sasuke can’t believe his ears lol But, really, I’m almost sure he planned on saying that. Yuki gets second-hand embarrassment lol For a second... I kinda forgot Kyuubei was there, too. Sorry. I KNEW he did that on purpose. Promise? Promise what? ... I didn’t anticipate such an honest letter.

Episode 12 (Dramatic) Okay...? Awww, he’s really thoughtful. Wow, MC really IS his weakness. Those two are too cute together. Uh-oh... If Sasuke is so serious that probably means trouble. So, apparently, Bakamoto is a thing in this route... Well, at least Bakamoto still stays true to his convictions. ... That surprised me. I mean, I still remember what he said earlier... Is that another formerly very unlikely alliance? Yeah, wonder why that is, Bakamoto. Uh, I don’t think Mitsuhide is happy about this conversation. Pfft, I bet this is his cue to interrupt. Knew it lol How he quickly that went from “not closer than necessary” to “100 steps away or more” lol THAT was definitely a declaration of war lol Love rival definitely confirmed. Now, it’s either kidnapping or assassination attempt. Why is that guy so gross??? Aww, good job, Kyuubei! And Bakamoto, please stop sulking! ... I... Have a very bad feeling. That’s... I can’t find the words. It’s... almost more heart-shattering than the similar situation in Kenshin’s route... OMG, Cybird is trying to kill me. Like, emotionally. I’m terrified to red the next parts. Guys and girls, please have a huge box of tissues ready when reading episode 12 part 6 to 10 (dramatic)!!!! Oh God, even before starting this half, my heart is beating like crazy. No, no no no, I can already tell what he'll try to do. I knew it! ARGH. Damn, where are my tissues? God, zhis is too much for my poor heart. Wait, you aren’t— Seriously?? Omg, I love this MC! As if we can leave like this! But that’s exactly why you’r MItsuhide’s pair, heh. And now I finally get the whole meaning of the preview for the dramatic route.

Episode 13 (Dramatic) They’re really nervous, huh? Ninja surprise! I expected that reaction lol Though I don’t get why they look so happy about his statement... Good job, you two! No doubt there, Mitsuhide is an exceptionally good marksman. Yuki, I don’t know if you’re dissing or praising him... Ugh, I can’t stand that guy anymore. Compared to him, Kennyo looks like a cute little kitten. Those two pull off the most amazing shit I’ve ever seen. With the most funny remarks ever possible. Honestly lol Wow, that guy is also popping up everywhere, huh? Well, we could just leave it to Bakamoto. You can’t say he doesn’t pay back those he owes. How can I hate a 2D character so much? Seriously. Every time this guy shows up I wanna punch him so bad. ... I wouldn’t make him mad if I were you, bastard. Nnnh, I know you can’t, but just stab him already! Come again...? Did he just suggest what I think he did? Nooo~ No Mitsuhide, you don’t! ??? Secret ninja around? Ooooh! No, that’s even better! Serves you right, you rotten bastard! That’s what was meant with controlling posion with poison! And who’d have thought, of course that dickhead has the antidote. You have some nerve, trying to trick the world’s greatest trickster. I should have known Mitsuhide already knew. Heh, I didn’t anticipate this. That’s almost mean, but let’s be honest, that jerk deserves it. Aww, Bakamoto is such a good guy. He wouldn’t needlessly kill anyone. And that’s as funny as it is harsh. Yay~ he made it in time! Aww, they are already leaving? Of course, Yuki doesn’t place value on Mitsuhide being there lol Yup, that’s our favorite tsun. For Yuki, idiot is an affectionate nickname lol And even Bakamoto realizes it now lol Wait wait wait. WHAT?! Noooo~ Seriously?! I think that’s the first time this happened in ANY route!!? I feel you MC. I’d be so startled. But awwww, she’s such a good girl. Oh? Oh!! Mitsuhide is the best! So they’re staying there for a bit? Well, it’s understandable. ... Are you kidding me? lol Well, at least he’s being responsible... Yeah, I can’t live without him as well lol Oooh, okay, so they’re making a quick detour before coming back. On Nobu-tan’s orders, I see. Phew, I was a bit worried about that, tbh. Mitsuhide disguising his affection as jokes/teasing is never getting old lol Oh wow. He’s like... super popular? Or more like... super loved? And if this were modern times he’d definitely share his declaration of MC being his girl on every single social network possible lol Awww, that’s cute. Pfffft, Hideyoshi! Really? lol Kyuubei, you little snitch. Heh, who am I kidding? We love you for that! And so, another one of Mitsuhide’s mysteries is solved. Well, at least for MC, since she’s probably only the second person who knows this. ... uhm, what? Why are you doubting yourself!? Bad taste? Seriously?? You trick her constantly and NOW you claim that could be a problem? Mitsuhide, please. Yay~ Sexy timez~ Oh my, that was dropped like a bomb. But I’m happy about it~ Holy... This might be just me, but that illustration has to be illegal!!! I also have no words, trust me.

Episode 11 (Romantic) Yeah, as if it would be that easy. Oooh, that’s nice, though! Awww, we all know what you wanna say with that, hehe. ... Excuse me, but... WTF??? Okay. Maybe Mitsuhide has lost his mind after everything that happened... Once again I have to acknowledge the hellish ability of his to use words with lotsa meanings... Now, that’s what I’m also curious about now. Don’t like to agree with him, but... – yes, he’s crazy. ... It’s not strange that I’m not trusting this guy, is it? Damn... He’s saying some irritatingly true things. Yikes... If Mitsuhide is oozing killing intent you can bet he’s being 1000% serious...

(Updating when I’m done with episode 11 romantic route second half (￣▽￣*)ゞ)

[ghosthunthq]

Memento (Part 2 of 2)

For: @seoulsborne123

By: @csakuras

Mai stood on the wooden platform of Kiyomizu-dera, overlooking the surrounding wooded hills.  Fall foliage lit up the landscape in red, orange, and green, with a view of the city beyond. But sadly, the scenery was almost spoiled by the constant droning voices of tourists crowding the platform.

“Wow, it’s packed, huh?” Keiko said, beside her.  At the moment, Kiyomizu-dera’s veranda was at nearly full capacity.

Mai laughed.  “Yeah…Naru would hate it here.”

Michiru nudged her with an elbow.  “Oooh Mai, why are you bringing up Shibuya-san all of a sudden?”

“Do you miss him?” Keiko teased.

“Yeah, right.  Besides, I only just saw him yesterday.”

A cool breeze wafted through the treetops.  Mai leaned on the wooden railing and took a breath of fresh air.

“It really is a beautiful view though.”  She raised her camera, taking a picture.

The bulk of that day had been devoted to group tours of several popular tourist sites: Kinkaku-ji, the Golden Pavilion; Ryoan-ji and its famous Zen rock garden; Sanjusangen-do, with its main hall filled with 1001 statues of Kannon.

At each location, Mai couldn’t help but wonder.  Did Gene come here too?

——

The next morning, Mai woke up at the hotel, and let out a deep sigh.

Last night, when she went to bed, she had foolishly hoped that Gene might appear in her dreams.  As if just the energy of this place could summon him to her.

Of course, she saw nothing.  Maybe if Naru was here, and they had a case, she might have had a chance.  But Gene didn’t tend to appear only for her sake. The only time she could recall that he did…it was right before his body was discovered.

She knew, Naru was probably the reason Gene still lingered.  That was fine. She wasn’t jealous or anything. Not like she could even come close to comparing to a twin brother anyway.

Not like she’d even known him when he was alive.

But she couldn’t mope forever.  That afternoon, the class was free to go wherever they liked within their groups.  Mai managed to convince Keiko, Michiru, and the others in her group not to tell the teacher that she would be slipping out on her own for a few hours.

She had called Suzuki earlier in the week, explaining that she was an Investigator from SPR and would like to speak to him in regards to his meeting with Gene.  Suzuki had suggested they meet at a teahouse in the Gion entertainment district.

And so she went.  The address he’d provided led her to a quiet side street.  Mai found the teahouse and waited outside. The surrounding buildings looked ancient, though well-cared for.  This whole street looked like it had barely changed in centuries. Standing there, Mai almost felt like she’d slipped back in time.

A few geisha passed by and she blushed.  She’d never entered this kind of establishment before, and she wasn’t sure it was really a place for teenage girls to hang around.  She probably should have mentioned her age to Suzuki on the phone. But even then, why did they have to meet here? Why not a cafe or something?

Soon, a middle-aged man walked up to the teahouse.  He had long, graying hair and a goatee. He was a bit handsome too.  Mai wondered if Bou-san might look like this someday.

“Excuse me, are you Suzuki-san?” she asked.

He blinked at her.  “Ah, you must be Taniyama-san.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He spoke with a (now familiar-sounding) Kyoto dialect.  Though, John’s version of the dialect tended to be comical.  Somehow, the real thing sounded much more elegant.

They entered the teahouse, where a kimono-clad hostess welcomed them.  Suzuki mentioned a reservation, and they were promptly led down a long hall.

The hostess opened a screen door and motioned them inside a room.

The interior was traditional, with tatami flooring.  The two of them sat on cushions with a low table between them.  Screen doors opened to a courtyard with a beautiful garden; there were Japanese maple trees, moss-covered rocks, and a small pond where koi fish swam, shimmering red, white, and gold in the dappled sunlight.

Shortly, another woman in a kimono came and served them green tea.

Mai fidgeted, feeling out of place in her school uniform.  Masako would fit into this kind of environment much better, with her beautiful kimonos.  Then again, Masako said she wore a uniform to school too, so would she also be in a uniform on her school trips?

Whatever, that wasn’t important right now.  Mai shook her head.

Once they were left alone, Suzuki spoke up.

“So, Taniyama-san.  You are quite young to be an Investigator, aren’t you?”  

She laughed nervously.  “I know it’s surprising.”  

Suzuki smiled.  “Well, after meeting both of the Davis brothers, I suppose I’m not as surprised as I perhaps ought to be.”  

“You didn’t think I might be an imposter?”  

“I had my suspicions.  Out of precaution, I called the number Oliver had left for me last time and confirmed beforehand that you are indeed who you say you are.”  

She blinked.  “You talked with Na— I mean, Oliver?”  

“Yes.  If I understood him correctly, he seemed to imply that Eugene was very important to you as well.”  

Mai clenched her hands in her lap, gripping the hem of her skirt.  Naru.

“I…yes.  He is. But…I’m sorry, I’m not here for anything nearly as important as Oliver was.  I just wanted to know what you talked about with him…with Gene.”

Suzuki smiled kindly.  “It’s no problem at all.  But, I do apologize if you feel uncomfortable.”  He gestured to the room around them. “There is a reason why I thought it appropriate for us to meet in this establishment.”

“O-oh?”

Suzuki took a sip of tea.  “I think it may interest you to know, that I have been coming to this teahouse for over twenty years.”

Mai tilted her head slightly.  Why would that interest her?

“This is where I always prefer to have my meetings, you see.  I’ve become such a regular, that the owners have this same room reserved for me every time.”

She finally caught on.  “D-do you mean, this is…?”

“Yes.  This is where I met Eugene, two years ago.  And where I met Oliver as well.  They both sat in the exact spot you’re sitting in now.”

A shiver ran down her back.  Two years ago.  Gene was alive.  And sitting right here.

Suzuki nodded to himself.  “Eugene was a remarkable young man.  Truly an expert in his field. And very open and friendly.  He was also quite taken with the geisha,” he laughed.

“Oh…was he…”  Mai didn’t know how to take this information.

“His brother, on the other hand, was very…business-like.  Straight to the point, you might say.”

She laughed.  “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“It was the honor of my life to meet them both.  Despite the…circumstances.” The man’s smile faded and he sighed.  “It’s truly terrible, what happened. I wish I could have done more to help.”

She nodded.  They lapsed into silence.  Mai sipped her tea.

After a moment, Suzuki resumed talking.  “Taniyama-san, is there anything you wanted to know in particular?”

“Um, yes.  Did Gene mention anything about what he did in Kyoto?”

Suzuki put a hand to his chin in thought.  “Yes, he seemed quite impressed with a number of tourist sites.  Fushimi Inari, in particular.”

“Fushimi Inari…”  She made a mental note to visit there later.

“He claimed to have seen a fox spirit there, and attempted to capture it on camera,” he smiled.

“Oh wow.”  Mai leaned forward.  “Did it work?”

“Unfortunately, no.  He said he would have to resign himself to taking ‘regular’ scenic photographs instead.”

She laughed.

But then Suzuki sighed, smile falling again.

“…Suzuki-san?”

“I’m sorry, that just reminded me of something.”  He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Toward the end of our conversation, I got the impression that he was becoming quite homesick.  He began reminiscing about road trips his family used to take when he was younger. He also mentioned that he and his brother had grown apart in recent years, and that he was starting to miss the closeness they once had.”

Oh no, Mai thought.

“He wished his brother could have been here to see the sights as well.  However, he thought Oliver wouldn’t appreciate the crowds. So he was planning to take plenty of pictures instead, so at the very least, Oliver could get some idea of it.”

Mai swallowed against the lump in her throat.  “I…see.”

They fell into silence again.  This time, the atmosphere remained heavy.

Unwittingly, her eyes drifted to the garden.  A scarlet maple leaf drifted slowly to the surface of the pond, causing silent ripples.

Two years ago, in the summer, Gene was in this exact spot, admitting that he missed his brother.  

One year ago, in the spring, Naru was also here, searching for leads on Gene’s location.

And now, it was Mai sitting here, looking back on the brothers’ separate journeys.  

Though the seasons were all different, time still seemed to overlap in that moment.  She could almost feel them there with her, gazing out into that garden together, both thinking of the other.

Where was Gene’s camera now?  At the bottom of the lake? Abandoned on the side of the road?  Or in his killer’s possession?

Gene had wanted to show Naru the beauty of Japan.  But in the end, all Naru saw was his brother’s death.  

Tears welled in her eyes.  

“Um, did you tell Oliver about this too?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.  And I did suggest that he do some sight-seeing while he was here.  However, he respectfully declined.”

Mai nodded slowly.  “…Even if he wanted to, I think back then, he would have been too preoccupied with finding Gene to appreciate any of it.”

“Yes.  I’m sure you’re right.”

And in that moment, Mai decided.

She had to do something.

——

Two days later, Mai returned to SPR carrying bags of souvenirs.  The gifts were modest, but she had fun picking them out. The Irregulars gathered at the office to hear stories from her trip, and they had a little party, eating snacks from Kyoto.  (Of course, Naru only made a brief appearance to complain about the noise.)

But once everyone had left, and she and Yasuhara had cleaned everything up, Mai slipped into Naru’s office with a paper bag.

“Hey, I’m going home soon.”

“Oh,” Naru said, not looking up from his computer.

She gathered her courage.  “By the way, I got you something too.”

Mai reached into her bag and pulled out his gift.  But unlike the others, this wasn’t a simple souvenir.  It was a small photo album.

She placed it on his desk, and Naru looked at it, perplexed.

“Open it,” she urged.

He opened the cover.  Fall colors immediately sprang off the page.

“This is…?”

“What it looks like.  Photos from Kyoto.”

“And you are giving this to me, why?”

Mai took a deep breath.  “Gene took a lot of pictures on his trip too.  He wanted to show them to you when he came home.  But he never got the chance.”

She pointed to herself.  “I’m kinda similar to Gene, right?  Personality-wise. That’s what Mori-san told me, anyway.  So, I pretended to be Gene for one day. To do what he couldn’t.”

Naru frowned a little, but returned his gaze to the album.  He turned a page.

She had spent all the rest of her free time in the city hunting for picturesque locations.  Among the pictures in the album were ones she’d taken at Kiyomizu-dera, as well as from the Gion district, Fushimi Inari Taisha, and the Philosopher’s Path, a tranquil stone path running along a canal.  The lighting in the pictures reflected the fact that she had been taking them from morning until sunset.

“You sure went to a lot of trouble for Gene’s sake,” Naru said off-handedly.

“I did it for you too.”

He looked up and blinked.

Blushing, she pushed on.  “Before, you gave me a picture of Gene, right?  So in return, I’m giving you pictures from Gene.  Or…something like it, anyway…”

He stared.  Mai averted her eyes.

When he told her about Gene’s desk.  And when he asked why she wanted to meet with Suzuki.  She’d thought Naru just didn’t understand why such things would matter to people.  She’d thought he wouldn’t care to even try to understand.  But in reality, he’d helped her every step of the way.

She’d misjudged him.  If he didn’t understand the value of a memento, he wouldn’t have given her that picture of Gene in the first place.  If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t have stayed with her that day while she cried.

She took a deep breath, forced herself to look at him straight on again.  

“I know you’re not really interested in looking at travel photos.  But, if you could just…keep it on a shelf somewhere. Maybe look at it once every few years…I think it would make him happy.”

Naru raised an eyebrow.  “Him? Or you?”

Mai sucked in a breath.  What was with him and these heart-stopping questions that had no easy answers?

He looked at the album again, flipping through more pages.

“…You’re right,” he said at last.

“Huh?”

The corner of his mouth turned up just slightly, half-amused, half-nostalgic.  “This seems exactly like something he would do.”

Mai let out a sigh of relief.  “Really?”

“Yes.  He was always sticking his nose into other people’s business, doing things no one asked for.”

She winced.  “Yeah, well…that’s just who we are, I guess.  Learn to live with it.”

He shut the album.  “Unfortunately, I already have.”

[albino-pony]

Men In Black AU

Bit of a context; Kirishima is an alien, working at the construction side in human disguise, while Agent B(akugou) is his supervisor. Then shit happens.

This thing is 3k long, so I’m putting most of it under the read more, enjoy B>

Eijirou saw the huge metal planks falling down onto one of his coworkers and moved before he could think about it. He pushed the man out of the way and crossed his arms above his own head, taking on his unbreakable form on instinct when metal hit him and made him fall to the ground under the weight of it all. He heard someone scream and tried to move, but the planks on top of him were heavier and bigger than he anticipated and he couldn't grab onto them properly.

More voices came through the metal and few pieces were removed from the top of him, giving him a chance to finally move. Eijirou pushed few times and finally could stand up, with the last plank being removed from his legs.

He looked around and realized he might have made a huge mistake. His coworkers were staring at him in horror and disbelief. Someone yelled to call the police, someone else pulled out a phone from their pocket and probably started recording everything.

Eijirou slowly moved his arms and looked at them to confirm that, yes indeed, his disguise of soft flesh had disappeared, his stone-like body almost on full display. Slowly, he relaxed and his unbreakable form softened back to his normal, hardened skin. Only now Eijirou noticed that what used to be the device that made him look more like a human, was hanging slightly from his wrist, while releasing something like a distorted beeping.

B is going to kill me. Eijirou thought and looked around for a route to escape, but as the people around stared in some sort of fear, they were still gathering around, simple human curiosity getting the best of them.

Suddenly, two black cars rode up to the construction side and Eijirou needed a couple of seconds to understand what was going on, but as he saw the familiar blond man in black suit and sunglasses on his face getting out of one of the cars, he realized what was happening. Agent B explained to him, when handing him the bracelet-like device, that upon being destroyed, it would immediately release the signal for them at the institute.

And it did.

And more agents got out of the cars, while agent B walked up to him and took off his glasses to glare at him. In any other circumstances, Eijirou would be more than happy to see him, but this time it was so much different.

"I can explain!" Eijirou yelled and realized that his voice had its real, more rough, sounding back, without the device. It was strange, hearing it during the day. "The planks, they started falling and-" B raised his hand and Eijirou shut his mouth.

"We don't have time for this." He said with a frown, reached to his pocket and took out the new device. "You're lucky we have those in fucking stocks." He gestured for Eijirou to raise his wrist for him and he quickly obeyed.

B adjusted the size of the bracelet and put it on red head's wrist. He turned it on and they both watched as the hologram spread along his hand to cover the ends of his fingers, then up his arm and to his whole body. The agent didn't let go of his hand, instead looked him in the eyes, his frown softening slightly, and Eijirou thought that he wanted to say something, but someone yelled in their direction.

"Hey, B!" A woman with short, brown hair shouted at him. Eijirou remembered the blond referring to her either as Agent U or Round face. "Get him out of here and put on your glasses, we're about to clean everything up!" She finished as she put on her own shades.

Agent B sighed, clearly annoyed, and reluctantly let go of Eijirou's hand, while quickly putting on the glasses and turned away, gesturing to the red head to follow him.

"What are you gonna do?" He asked, instead of moving. B stopped and slowly turned around.

"We're neuralizing them." He said shortly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world and Eijirou wished he hadn't put on the shades, as this could maybe give him higher chances of reading the blond.

"But only about this moment, right?" He didn't know why he was asking that. Maybe there was this strange feeling in him, that this time it was different.

It was actually, after all, he never before outed himself in front of so many people and in such ‘pompous’ manner.

"Of you, Kirishima." He slightly lowered his glasses and pointedly looked around. "Entirely."

Eijirou felt cold shiver run down his spine. This is the last thing he wanted to happen. Damn, he didn't want this to happen at all, but now it was too late. He fucked up and he had to pay and he was going to disappear, just like his people and-

"Kirishima, come on." Hand on his shoulder and surprisingly soft voice of Agent B stopped him from spiraling deeper into his thoughts, but he still couldn't bring himself to answer him, instead he just nodded and let the blond lead him to the car.

Once he was inside it, the agent next to him at the wheel, he saw blond's partner gather all the people he worked with (or rather used to work with, at this point) in front of her and probably telling them to look at the device in her hand, of which Eijirou forgot the name of. Then, a quick flash of light, and he knew that she started telling them some sort of a story, how the planks fell and all that stuff. He spotted another agent carry all his stuff from one of the temporarily set up tents for the time of the construction, and the other taking care of one of the man's phone.

And that was it.

He was gone with a short flash.

Just like his planet.

Eijirou covered his face with his hands, leaned forward and slightly curled himself in an attempt to hide from the world.

The world he was non-existent in.

He gritted his teeth and tried to stop himself from crying or making any noise at all, as he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of the agent. Despite his best efforts, tears started streaming from his eyes and a quiet sob escaped his mouth. He couldn't stop, and with each passing second he was more and more aware that the blond was probably staring at him, as he still didn't start up the car.

Eijirou jumped when he felt a hand on his back and dared to peer at the man next to him. He no longer had the glasses on his face, but his eyebrows were still scrunched, yet this time it was more of a concern than anything else.

"Come on, it's not the end of the world-" Eijirou's eyes widened at his words and as he was about to open his mouth, the agent must have realized the poor choice of words on his part. "-ah, fuck." He cursed quickly and pulled his hand away to rub at his face in annoyance, the warm feeling disappearing from Eijirou's back. "Sorry. I just- ... shit, fucking-"

Eijirou sniffled and actually chuckled, which got him a slightly startled look from the blond. It wasn't often he had a chance to see Agent B like that.

"It's alri- okay, it's not really that alright to say." Despite his words, he couldn't help but chuckle again. "More like fucked up." Eijirou wiped off the remaining tears from his eyes, straightened his back and couldn't help but snicker at blond's shocked face.

"Just shut up." Agent grunted and shoved him in the shoulder, something that probably hurt him more than the red head. "I already apologized." He added more quietly and finally started the car.

As they were driving away, Eijirou looked out the window to give his silent goodbyes to the confused people who were now busy cleaning up the metal planks, none of them looking in their direction. He sighed heavily and leaned his head against the seat.

"Where are we going?" He asked quietly after few minutes of driving in complete silence.

"Where do you think?" Agent grunted as he stopped on the red light. "To the institute, you're going to stay there for a while." Eijirou's head turned to the side so quickly, he heard a quiet crack in his neck. "We have to find a new place for you, if you still want to work with humans. Others already started removing stuff from your old flat." He explained quickly and started driving again.

"Can't I stay in the old place?" Eijirou asked foolishly and looked down at his unusually soft hands then clenched them a few times. Despite the soft looks, he himself could still feel the roughness of his real skin, the nerves deceiver not working on him. "... Do you really have to be so strict with all those rules? Can't you bend them a bit, just this once?" He knew that this was just a wishful thinking, that the Men In Black were always strictly following the rules, no matter what.

"You know who bends the rules all the time?" Eijirou raised his eyes to find out that Agent B was looking right at him with intense gaze. "Institute in the USA." His eyes returned to the road in front of them and Eijirou tilted his head, not sure where he was going with it. "And do you know who gets the most 'visits' from hostile alien races? The United States of Fucking America!" He said with spite and stopped the car. Only now red head realized that they were already at the institute. "So don't ask me to 'bend the rules just a bit'." He ended his little monologue and got out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

Eijirou looked down at the bracelet on his wrist and turned it off, the hologram of soft skin almost immediately disappearing, and only then he got out of the car as well. Agent B raised his eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything as he glanced down to make sure the device was still on his wrist, then started stomping away, not waiting for him. Eijirou sighed and jogged after him.

They made their way to the main hall and Eijirou had to squint his eyes a bit at the brightness of the place. He always wondered why the institute was completely white, while the organization was called 'Men In Black'.

He noticed Sero sitting at his huge desk, something like a tape extending from his elbow to reach for some papers from the opposite side of the hall from another agent. Their eyes met and the other tilted his head curiously, a silent question 'what are you doing here?' obvious on his face. Eijirou smiled sadly and pointed at the bracelet on his wrist. Brunette seemed to understand, as he just nodded and gave him encouraging thumbs up and a huge smile, at which Eijirou sighed a bit, which got him attention of the blond.

"Stop sulking around and move your ass." B grunted in calmer tone than before. Eijirou moved and followed after him to his desk. "Sit down and wait." He gestured at the chair and off he was.

Red head watched him for few seconds, as he went up the elevator, probably to the office of one of his superiors, and sat down heavily. He looked at the desk, it was as neat as always, not a single pencil or paper out of its place. Eijirou sighed deeply and leaned forward to put his cheek on the cold surface. He raised his hand, put his sharp finger on the smooth desk and lazily started drawing small circles.

"Kirishima, if I see a single scratch on my desk I will crush you." Eijirou jumped at the sudden voice and looked panicky at Agent B who appeared all of a sudden next to him.

"I wasn't-" Red head glanced at the desk to make sure he didn't actually leave any scratches and looked back at the blond. "I didn't do anything!" He added quickly and the agent actually smirked at him.

"Calm the fuck down." Despite his words, the grin didn't disappear from his face. He reached for the chair from the nearest desk and rolled it closer so he could sit down in front of Eijirou.

"Hey, it's mine!" Both of their heads turned to another person, Agent K, who seemed more than displeased about someone stealing his chair.

"Don't you have aliens to flirt with, Pikachu?" B flipped him off and crossed his legs, leaning comfortably in the chair. Other blond only scoffed and walked away, but not without waving to Eijirou. "Alright." Red head turned his attention back to the agent in front of him. "First of all-" he leaned forward, his eyes piercing Eijirou "-are you okay?" He asked quietly, like he didn't want anyone else to hear him.

"... I mean-" Eijirou lowered his head and put his hands on his knees and squeezed lightly, the quiet sound of scratching reaching his ears. "-I'll get used to this?" He heard click of a tongue from the blond, but didn't dare to look him in the eyes. "But it's just- all those people... Despite that I was working with them for months, they forgot everything. Like I never existed." He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. "I might as well be dead. Like the rest of my race." His voice cracked a bit at the end and he clenched his hands.

"Kirishima." Agent's voice was quiet and calm. "I know- I have an idea of how you might be feeling. I'm a dead man to the rest of the world. I don't exist. Wiped off from people's memories and lifes." Eijirou heard him move closer and suddenly felt a hand on his clenched fist. Their eyes met when he looked up. "But I'm alive. And so are you." He felt light squeeze and was pretty sure that the roughness of his skin gave unpleasant feeling for soft hand of Agent B.

He reached with his other hand for the bracelet in intentions of turning it on, to give the man at least an illusion of touching soft skin, but the other man stopped him.

"I don't care." He said while keeping his hand on Eijirou's, squeezing it more to make a point, and still looking him right in the eyes.

Eijirou's heart skipped a beat and he finally relaxed. He moved his hand so his and agent's palms were touching. By the look on B's face, Eijirou was scared for a second that he was going to take his hand away, but nothing like that happened. He just sighed, and seemingly fought off the smile from appearing on his face, before he continued.

"The point is- you're alive. And so is that guy you saved. Do you realize how rarely it happens? For an alien to save a human?" Eijirou thought it was kind of ridiculous, that the blond put so much emphasis on how barely something like this ever happened. This kind of behavior should be something normal. "That's why I talked to Agent N." Eijirou shot him a confused look.

"Who?"

"Oh, for fucking- the mouse. Or bear. Or whatever he is. The head of the Institute." He explained quickly and Eijirou remembered the short alien who welcomed him on Earth, all those months ago. He let out short hum of understanding and nodded. "Yeah, him. And so, we have an offer for you." He let go of his hand and red head barely stopped himself from complaining about it.

"... What offer?" He asked slowly instead, a bit scared of what Agent B might say next. Will they send him to another city? Another country? Another planet?!

"I see that you're panicking inside your head. Stop it, it's stupid and there’s no fucking reason for you to do so." Eijirou snapped out from his thoughts, his shoulders tensing. "We want you to join Men In Black."

Eijirou's eyes widened in shock and for a second he thought he misheard. Or heard correctly, but Agent B was shitting with him.

"You're joking, right?" Words left his mouth before he could process them and blond glared at him for the first time since he sat down.

"Do I look like I would joke about something like that?"

Eijirou knew the agent long enough, that he didn't need much time to think about the answer and he shook his head.

"But-" He started, unsure of his words. "-am I even allowed to join? Being an alien and all..." Truth to be told, humans were more alien to him than anyone else he met in his life, but he wasn't about to go into that with Agent B.

"... You do know who the head of the institute is, right?" The blond furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head towards his boss' office.

"Right..." Eijirou still wasn't sure about this. Even if he was considered an alien here, someone who society couldn't find out about, he was offered a job that required of him to protect both, this society and aliens living in it.

"You don't have to answer right away." Blond continued and Eijirou nodded at his words. "But if you agree, you'll be partnered with me."

"Wh- wha- with you?" He felt embarrassed for stuttering, but tried his best to process the whole situation.

"No, with that fucking broccoli, M." He said sarcastically and rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd be with me, idiot. I don't have assigned official partner and I'm the fucking best agent here!" He said louder than necessary and smirked proudly, while Eijirou ignored the way Agent K slowly shook his head behind blond's back.

To be honest, Eijirou always wanted to see how all this worked on the inside. How agents handled everything precisely.

And the perspective of working with B was actually a nice addition to it all.

"I want to, actually. But first, I need to think about it." He said finally and looked the other in the eyes.

Agent B seemed to be mulling over his word, slightly surprised about his answer, but otherwise it didn't look like he was angry. After few more seconds, he nodded with pleased grin and stood up, Eijirou automatically following his movements.

"I'm sure you'll join us, sooner or later." B put his hand on Eijirou's shoulder. "Also, if you turn out to be as good as I predict you to be, out in the field? I'll tell you a secret." He winked (actually fucking winked) and turned around, leaving baffled red head by himself.

He thinks I'll do good?? Wait-

"B, wait! What secret!?" He yelled, getting attention of few people around them, and jogged after him.

"If I tell you now, it won't be a secret anymore. Seriously, is your brain a rock too?" He said, not bothering to stop or slowing down. "And it'll keep you motivated to keep up with me." B added in the end and left Eijirou with his own thoughts.

[1stunseeliefaelass]

Ale's Sidestory Part 3

Ale quivered in place as she hugged her Atan. She just couldn't believe he'd come after so long. Her ears were straight up in her delight. Finally Ale let go of him and told him,

"So Atan, would you like to see my home? You never got the chance back then. Though I did try my best."

She felt his hands on her own and stood up as he did. Her ears perked as they awaited his response.

Finally, after a moment of agonizing silence, he spoke up, "I wouldn't mind....I just...can't stay long."

Death saw her body go a bit rigid at his reply. Her ears drooped a little after a bit longer.

"I suppose I should've expected that...you've got your kin to worry about...I just thought maybe...but I guess one can't have everything. Even when you beg the Creator for so long..." Ale uttered, blinking hard to fight more tears.

Her voice cracks broke Death's heart all the more. Normally breaking such news was easy, but now it was different.

"I'm truly sorry, but I cannot stay for long visits. Absalom would never let me out of his sight if he knew where I was now. I can't let him know I'm here, not ever. So I have to be brief with my visits." Death replied to try and ease her sadness.

Ale's ears lifted a little as she heard him say the word 'visits'. She'd foolishly assumed he meant he'd never visit after this. So with her little tail wagging some she dared to ask,

"Atan, you promise you'll come see me again? I think can bare the separation if I know you'll come home one day." Her tone was highly nervous.

Death sighed and said to her, "I cannot promise that these visits will be often. But I will do my best to come see you again. This won't be my last visit to you. Now shall I see your home then, before daylight preferably?"

Ale beamed at this, her ears perking up again before eagerly leading him down the path. Her gait surprised him, as it was full of energy and quite fast. Course she was still blind so naturally Death was worried.

"Won't you be needing assistance?"

"Awww don't worry about me Atan. The forest guides me wherever I go around here." Ale remarked with a giggle.

"And when you're not among this wood?"

"Then the vines on my wrists and ankles guide me. It's just not as accurate when they do it. I'll often bump into things in my home for instance." Ale replied simply.

"Ok. Well then perhaps you'll answer..." Death began to say.

"I'll answer as many questions as you have or want me to. I'm used to being asked many questions everyday."

"Oh well anyway, why do you keep calling me that? Atan I mean." Death inquired.

"Oh that. Well it's not a name to start with. It's actually a word in my kin's tongue, and it simply means son. I just use that word instead of just saying son because it's simply what I'm used to referring to you as. Although, if you want me to use the English term instead I won't mind."

Death noted how Ale moved her hands quite a bit as she spoke. He always did the same, but not to the extent she was doing.

"I'd prefer you kept saying Atan. Though if we're alone then it should be safe to sprinkle the English word in conversations. Though if I'm your Atan, then what's the word for you? And what's your name anyway?"

"Oh I suppose a boy ought to know his Mother's name at your age hmm? Well my name is Ale, and my kin's word for Mother would be Ceise. Course you can just use my name if you want to." Ale replied in a somewhat playful manner.

"I'm fine with using the word Ceise. But it's nice to know your name. I imagine my own name is probably far from what you may have chosen for me." Death said rubbing his neck briefly.

"Oh? You really think so? Tell me then Atan, what did that brute Absalom name you?"

"Brute?" Death asked her confused.

"It is how I remember him. Surely you remember why I would view him that way?" Ale says tapping her head by her eyes in emphasis.

"Ah right, fair enough Ceise. Anyway...he gave me the name Death." Death told her simply.

"Well, it's not the name I'd have chosen no. You're certainly correct on that. However, if it does not bother you then I shall leave it as is." Ale says.

Death nodded, "I'd prefer to keep my name. It matches me more than you may think. Though I'd rather not discuss why."

"That's understandable, given the fact that the Nephilim are in constant battles against several places across creation. I imagine there's many dark things you've participated in. None of which I'll hold against you. I may not condone what you and your kin do, but I can understand why at least."

Death then paused in his tracks, seeing the humble yet tall abode before them. Ale walked on for a time before the vines seemingly informed her of where Death was.

"Everything alright Atan?"

"Hmm? Oh yes everything's fine. I just wasn't expecting the height of the place." Death admitted.

Ale giggled a bit before practically skipping back to his side. She stopped part way due to nearly tripping over her feet. At which point she just walked the rest of the way over to him. It would take getting used to, but Death was already beginning to enjoy this bubbly, gentle personality from her. As well as how 'motherly' she actually was when compared to Lilith. Ale led him to a table, gave him tea and even a small snack just in case. She wanted to be sure he was comfy, a sentiment Death appreciated in silence. Ale didn't mind that he didn't speak so much now. He was probably tired for the night anyway. She also just wanted the visit to last a little bit longer. However once his tea had been finished he stood up, and Ale knew he needed to head back to his kin. With a heavy heart she accepted his hug, which was shorter this time around. She then asked to see his crystal, and upon tapping it the crystal began its flickering again. Death once again promised he'd come see her again, and then made his way from the house, using the backyard. Just before he left, he heard Ale call to him a final time,

"You'll always have a home with me! I promise that you will! I love you Atan!"

"Thank you! I'll remember that...goodnight Ceise!" Death shouted back before running to get back to camp.

He already missed her dearly, and it'd scarcely been a few minutes since his departure. Once he was out of the forest itself, he put the crystal away and took out a smaller, red one. This he used to just teleport back to his tent. He stood in place briefly, silently listening for anyone who may have noticed him return. When he was confident no one noticed the teleportation, he removed his armor and went to bed in his cot. This time he'd not be haunted by memories tonight.

Ale took longer to finally tire out to the point where she couldn't stay awake. Passing out at her table as she stared blankly into a space she couldn't see. The vines in her home gently maneuvered Ale to her bed upstairs and laid her to rest for the night.

[blueberrrykissses]

“I always knew you were daft, but have you completely taken leave of your senses?” Porlyusica crossed her arms over her chest, red eyes staring at Juvia with utter distain. “I don't deal with that kind of nonsense.”  

Juvia cringed inwardly, feeling heat rush to her face with embarrassment. “I–um–J-Juvia…” she stuttered as she clasped her hands together, wringing them nervously.  Why on Earthland did she think it was a good idea to go to Porlyusica with this kind of problem? 

 Porlyusica pinched the bridge of her nose with a loud sigh. “Will you compose yourself, girl? Fortunately for you, I know someone who does.”

Juvia’s pink lips curved into a small frown, eyeing Victorian-looking house apprehensively. Not because she didn't trust who was inside, but because she was afraid she wouldn't find that she was so desperately looking for. 

 She made her way up the outdoor stairway that led towards entrance. She lifted her arm and curled her hand into a small fist and gave the door a hard knock.  

 What if she was like Porlyusica? Or worse, what if she couldn't–

 Almost immediately the door swung open. She was greeted by an older woman with short blonde curls. 

 “H-hello, are you Hilda-san?” Juvia asked timidly. “My name is Juvia Lockser and–”

 “Ah, yes! You’re the little fairy Porlyusica informed me about,” the older woman beamed warmly at her in such a motherly manner that left Juvia feeling slightly bemused. “I’ve been expecting you.”

 Hell she certainly wasn't expecting that. 

Juvia offered a shy smile as she tucked a blue curl behind her ear and made her way inside. 

 “I’ve prepared us some baked goods. I hope you like scones.” Juvia heard the door shut behind them. “This way dear.”

The small manor was dimly lit but Juvia could still take notice of its beauty and elegance behind it. Dark colors such as maroon and charcoal decor the house but the specks of rich jade and beige were used so it wouldn't be deemed too gaudy. 

With only the sharp sound of their heels clicking onto the wooden floor, Juvia felt the need to add, “You have a lovely home, Hilda-san.”

 “Thank you, dear. This house has been in the family for many generations now,” Hilda paused. “I actually live here with my sister, but she’s on a mission right now for the council. You won’t be seeing her today.” 

 Hilda led them into a spacious living room where she had beautiful tea set with along other treats waiting for them on the coffee table.

“Hilda-san really shouldn't have bothered–”

“Nonsense! It's no bother at all!” Hilda interrupted her with a dismissive hand wave. “Now, come have a seat dear and make yourself at home.”   

The water mage had no choice but to adhere to the older blonde's request. 

“Is chamomile okay?” 

 Juvia nodded politely and watched as Hilda poured the gold liquid into her cup before serving herself and taking a seat next to her on the sofa.  

 “It’s not often in where Porlyusica sends someone over my way,” she tells her as she takes a sip of her tea. “So tell me dear, what is it that I can help you with?”

 Juvia bit down on her lower lip, her gaze shifting down towards her lap. “Forgive Juvia if her request sounds a bit…silly,” she began hesitantly, “When Juvia went to visit Porlyusica-san, she told Juvia that she didn't concern herself with trivial matters of the heart.” 

 Hilda released a dry chuckle. “I don't think she knows how, my dear,” she told her. “I’ve known Porlyusica for many years now. She’s an extraordinary woman when it comes to medicine, but matters of the heart? Well… it’s not exactly her field of expertise,” she gave Juvia a faint smile before she leaning over and adding, “And darling, I would hardly call matters of the heart trivial.”                                                                                                                    

“Thank you, Hilda-san,” Juvia’s lips curled into an appreciative smile. She then paused, finding the courage to gather her thoughts. “Juvia was just wondering if there was some sort of remedy for a… heartache.”

 Juvia almost expected for Hilda to wave her off and dismiss her the way Porlyusica had but was surprised when Hilda peered at her with interest. 

“Remedy for a heartache?” Hilda repeated thoughtfully, placing a finger over her thin lips. “Heartache in which form? A relationship breakup? Death of a loved one? Unrequited love?” 

 Juvia grimaced. “Unrequited love,” she said in a strangled voice. She felt heart grow heavy from admitting such statement. 

 Nonetheless, Hilda gave her a reassuring smile. “Don't worry dear, you’re not the first nor last to suffer from unrequited love. I actually suffered from a couple of those myself and I have just the thing,” she took one last sip from her tea before placing it down on the table. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.” 

 Hilda returned moments later, holding a clear crystal jar that was about the size of a small apple.  

 “I created this myself after my second divorce,” she scoffed in a dry tone. “I call it Heart Balm. Rub it over your chest, three times daily…or as needed.” 

 Juvia set her own teacup on the table and took the jar with both hands. She eyed it curiously before unscrewing the lid open; it smelled like lavender. 

 “It won’t mend your broken heart… but it will numb your heartache.”

 Juvia looked up, eyebrows drawn together with concern. “Numb it?” she echoed faintly. “But Juvia doesn't want to stopfeeling, she just…” her voice began to falter at the realization of her uncertainty. What did she want? Isn’t this what she came for? To find some sort of remedy that would ease her heartache from a certain raven-haired ice mage?

 “Don’t fret, dear. It won't deprive you from all your emotions,” she assured Juvia with a kind smile, but that wasn't what concerned Juvia. “Just the romantic feelings your heartache longs for.”  

 Juvia bit down on her lower lip as her eyes fell back down on the crystal jar in her hands, trying to ignore the unsettling sensation that stirred in the pit of her stomach. 

 The thought of her finally finding some sort of relief after enduring the torture that came with unrequited love was more than inviting. To be liberated from the heartache she had become a prisoner of, heartache that made her too powerless to escape…and the key was sitting in the mere palm of her hands. 

 So why did it feel so wrong?  

 The older woman seemed to have sensed Juvia’s self-doubt. 

 “You can try it and if you feel unsure, you can always stop using it without any repercussions,” she informed her. “And just incase you were wondering; the balm will only numb your current unrequited lover; your heartache. It will not impede you from seeking love. You will still have the potential to fall in love with another, as it would be if you weren’t using the Heart Balm.”

Juvia pulled her lips back into a tight smile. Fall for another? She highly doubted that.  

 “That's not what has Juvia feeling so uneasy,” she disclosed with a small sigh as she carefully placed the crystal jar on the table. “Juvia has…. an overwhelming sense of guilt,” she confessed, her stormy-blue eyes falling towards her lap. “Juvia doesn't understand why.”

 Hilda’s lips withered into a sad grimace. 

 “It's not unheard of, but what you’re feeling is a side-effect from the balm. It normally affects those who have immensely, strong feelings over a certain individual,” she murmured in a somber tone. “You see darling, Heart Balm has a special ingredient that causes a direct connection to a person’s heart, to their feelings, which is why I store it in an enchanted crystal jar. I presumed that when you opened it, your own heart might have sensed it and somehow anticipated that you might be cheating yourself out of your emotions, which is why you might be feeling this way.”

 Juvia blinked, then blinked several more times as she tried to dissect Hilda’s words. How is it that her own body knew that what she was doing was wrong?

 She closed her eyes as she tried to regulate her breathing; she felt like throwing up.

 “But not to worry little lamb, you’re not the first person to experience this strange phenomenon,” she squeezed her right hand with comfort. “There’s a reason why I brewed us some chamomile tea,” she leaned forward over the coffee table and took a hold of Juvia’s teacup and offered it to her. “It helps relieve any emotional distress you might have before using the balm. The more you drink, the better.” 

 Juvia numbly took the tea cup with both hands and took a sip to not only null her guilt, but also to force down the bile that threaten to escape her lips. 

“Oh dear, you’re starting to look a little pale,” Hilda’s voice was now laced with concern. She placed a hand over her shoulder. “If this is troubling you so, maybe you shouldn't use it.”

A quiet voice stirred the back of her mind.Remember why you came.

Juvia furiously shook her head, blue curls bouncing in waves. “No, Juvia wants to use it… it’s just that…Juvia doesn't want to cheat herself out of her feelings,” she explained. “Juvia still wants to feel the love she holds for her Gray-sama. Juvia just doesn't want to feel any heartache.”

Hilda blinked, looking thoroughly confused. “Darling, I’m not quite sure I understand. This person…Gray?” Juvia gave a weak nod. “Doesn't reciprocate your feelings, but nonetheless, you still want to be emotionally conscious for the love you hold for him?”

Juvia bit down on her lower lip to keep it from trembling. “Yes, but…without the heartache… pain,” she answered foolishly and by the look on Hilda’s face, she knew that her request was only only futile but also not possible. 

Hilda released a long, heavy sigh. “I’m sorry darling, but I’m afraid that's not how the balm works,” she told her. “The minute you start using the balm, your romantic feelings for this person, your love, will automatically be numbed out. You’ll view him in the eyes of just another friend.”

 Juvia felt as if a knife went right through her heart. Her vision suddenly blurred, tears threatening to spill over her porcelain face. 

 “I don't mean to be insensitive but why would you put yourself through that torture? Its clear by the anguish on your face that you are hurting, wouldn't it be best to just let go?”

 Juvia opened her mouth but failed to come up with a with a clear response. 

 She couldn't bring herself to just forget about the love she held for Gray because in the end, it was Gray who saved her and pulled her out from the depths of darkness that once conquered her heart. He showed her kindness that she didn't know existed and opened up emotions inside of her that she didn't know she was capable of feeling. 

 And even if Gray didn’t romantically reciprocate her feelings, he still made her feel like she was apart of something special…and the thought of that disappearing...

 She didn't know if she could live without. 

 Juvia’s turned her attention to Hilda, who was patiently waiting for a response. “Forgive Juvia, she doesn't mean to be rude but Juvia doesn't expect for Hilda-san to understand,” her lips curved into a bitter smile.

 “Juvia was once an emotionless person who only knew about pain and rejection, being a burden to everyone around her. But then Juvia met Gray-sama,” she sniffled, but smiled fondly at the memory. “It was a…memorable encounter. We were fighting with each others guilds at the time Juvia nearly killed Gray-sama.” 

“But even then, when Gray-sama defeated Juvia, he showed her mercy and kindness that she had never experienced before. He made Juvia see things in a clear light…he gave her hope,” Her voice went soft with affection. “So even if Gray-sama doesn't reciprocate his feelings, it wouldn’t right to just…erase them because if it weren’t for her Gray-sama…” Juvia trailed off, releasing a small sob that she was trying so hard to repress as she covered her face with both hands.  

She just wanted to feel without her heart hurting so much.  Was that too selfish? Or just not possible? 

“Oh darling, come here,” Hilda pulled her into a tight embrace that only made Juvia sob even harder. “I understand now…and I am so very sorry, but even I can’t create a balm that just numbs your heartache; it goes hand in hand with your love and feelings for Gray. Heart Balm does not stop you from loving someone…it just momentarily numbs the pain.”

“Do you remember why you came here in the first place? Do you feel like you can do without the balm?”

Juvia closed her eyes shut with unwelcoming memories plagued her thoughts. 

 “I’ve got to clearly lay out the things I don’t like. I’m entering a new age too.”

 “Gray-sama…I love you!”

 “No, thanks.”

 She made herself believe that the unshed tears she was holding back were from their victory and not because of the humiliating rejection.   

 Just like she pretended like her heart wasn't breaking in two, or the fact that she didn't see Gray dance with almost every girl from Fairy Tail…except her.  

 “Today is…our anniversary!”

 Okay, she had to admit she messed up on that one. Still, it didn't mean that the rejections didn't hurt.   

 “I wouldn’t say we lived together…she came and refused to move out…”

 Had living together with her meant nothing to him? 

 They had private moments together in where Gray confided in her, trusted her with secrets she knew others were unware of, moments she knew were special. She couldn't just let him go because he had so effortlessly taken a piece of her that she, herself, wasn't sure if she would be able to retrieve. 

She stood by his side and let herself foolishly believe that maybe one day, he would be able to tear down his own walls and let her inside his heart. 

 However, whatever hopes that Juvia was clinging on too, diminished when she spotted him kissing another woman.  Sure, she would admit and say that sometimes she could be a bit pushy, but was she that bad?That embarrassing? Or maybe not good enough? 

 All this time she thought that maybe Gray wasn't ready to face his feelings or that his focus was on something more important, but that simply wasn't the case. The hard truth was that Gray wasn't interested in her, and no matter how hard she tried he would never look at her that way. He cared about her as his friend, but nothing more.   

Juvia was only causing her own pain and suffering and if she was going to survive, she was going to have to give up the part the loved him…no matter how much it hurt her. 

Maybe the best thing for Juvia was to numb herself from Gray…   

Juvia slowly pulled away from Hilda’s embrace and mustered up a watery smile. 

 “Juvia will take it.” 

Meant to post this sooner. Enjoy. 

[madaraism]

Tourists – Liam x MC (NSFW)

A/N: Happiest of birthdays to my fellow Aussie, @topsyturvy-dream. Knowing you has been such an amazing journey, one of which I can be the complete salty, questionable bogan that I secretly am. I love talking about the joys that is Liam and Riley with you, and all the possible places that they would have chill dates with in Sydney. Please go check out her blog, she is an amazing person to talk to, not to mention her artworks for the Choices fandom is fantastic (she also gives the most extensive fanfic reviews ever, which ultimately gives me LIFE). Love you Nikki! You still owe me a woolies mudcake, even though it’s your birthday.

Also additionally, look at me, trying to break away from the angst-writer stereotype.

Summary: The royal couple has a little rendezvous in the land down under.

Rating: Mature – NSFW and language.

Inspiration: Adore by Ariana Grande

Perma tag: @topsyturvy-dream @hellospunkiebrewster @umccall71 @blackcatkita

Tagging people who might be interested: @never-ending-choices @laniquelove @hhiggs @cocomaxley @bobasheebaby @boneandfur @alicars @captainkingliam @kawairinrin @hopefulmoonobject

Such a peaceful place, Australia.

Full of different cultures and languages, festivities and curious eats, the bustle of other tourists, the relaxed and joyous atmosphere of other Sydneysiders.

The lead up to their trip down under was purely for relaxation; she had talked about it for years about visiting, desperate to explore places other than America and Europe, a point that she had shared with Liam when she brought him to that secret cove back in New York the night they met.

It had been a running gag for the past years.

She had lived with her extended family back in The States, sure, but deep down she missed the time she had spent growing up in the land down under.

It had started off with her vocabulary, the certain way that she would say things, and especially the accent that would slip out when she got angry or frustrated.

The whole crew would then laugh about it and joke about her accent with terrible imitations. They had spent so many years talking about it, letting her reminisce about her time spent there. She found it funny, seeing all their reactions and laughing at how misconstrued their idea of Australia was; Hana being squeamish with the sizes of certain insects, Maxwell foolishly, yet not surprisingly, believing in the existence of drop bears, Olivia boasting about the Cordonian Ruby being better than the Australian Pink Lady. At least Drake seemed to be interested in the extremely relaxed and much-loved drinking environment.

She remembers it all very clearly, correcting fiction with facts, teaching them certain slang, correcting inaccurate tourism ads with a rather frustrated, “We don’t even say shrimp on the barbie! What even is a shrimp? It’s a damn prawn!”

And Liam, being Liam, loved the idea of exploring a new country, especially one that meant so much to her.

So he spends months to plan the perfect trip for her birthday, finding the excitement bubbling within him when he realises that it falls within a certain period where the city of Sydney is dressed in different colours, bright lights and impressive art instalments for the three-week-long art festival called Vivid.

Liam makes a trip out of it, hoping to maximise their stay there to take in all the sights by opting to stay at the lavish Park Hyatt with uninterrupted views of the Opera House instead of the delegated Cordonian houses.

She discovers his surprise when she steps onto the plane; expecting another tedious journey to some state dinner in some European country, only to be greeted with the pop of multiple party poppers from the crew and the king himself; gold and green streamers covering her hair and the carpet underneath her feet.

“Surprise, my love. Have you guessed where we’re going yet?”, His eyes sparkle and he flashes his signature loving yet cheeky grin.

The gold and the green… the national colours…

“Noooooo…”, She gasps as it sinks in, taking around the comfortable attire of everyone.

Liam can only continue grinning as she wraps her arms around him, “We’re going down under.”

-

The flight was excruciatingly long. Not because of the travel, no, but the joke of it all being brought to reality was about to send her into madness.

It was a series of the usual discussion topics, only much more intense.

“For the love of god, Maxwell, if you play Down Under by Men At Work one more time,”

“No, Olivia, I don’t know why they don’t accentuate the ‘r’s in every word, maybe you can ask them when we get there.”

“Fairy bread is an Aussie staple, Hana. All you need is bread, butter and rainbow sprinkles. No, it’s not a dessert. It’s breakfast. It’s party food. Pavlova is a dessert.”

“No, Drake, Tasmania is not actually connected to Australia. I’m sure we can get you a bottle of Sullivan’s Cove in Sydney. …No, I didn’t know they won the World’s Whiskies Awards in 2014, I actually like having a functioning liver.”

Liam can only laugh, his fingers working along her back to untangle the stress induced knots in her muscles.

-

Perhaps it was the excitement of being in a different country; the truth in her words when they realised just how genuinely laidback the people were.

With Vivid on, the buzz and excitement was immeasurable. The different art instalments throughout various suburbs and in the central business district, the way different moving artworks illuminated the white sails of the Opera House, seeing people interacting with the moving sculptures and instalments… She missed it all, but sharing it with Liam and the others meant so much more to her.

She cringes but laughs at the way Maxwell tries to blend in into the Australian crowd with supposedly ‘Aussie streetwear’ – namely a singlet with his hippo tattoo proudly showing, board shorts and flipflops – or thongs, as he now calls it to fit in.

She laughs at the way Hana would drag the reluctant Drake and Olivia over to explore various art statues that would make musical notes when you hit them a certain way.

But most importantly, she loved how Liam’s eyes would sparkle, admiring how such beautiful displays were admired by everyone, tourists or not, and that they were all so interactive and interesting, taking in the ideas and hoping to start something similar in Cordonia in celebration of the arts when they return home.

At times, however, she would notice how distracted, almost frustrated he was.

Perhaps it was the crowds of people, she wonders, the way they all pushed in curious groups, making Liam’s arm cling around her waist, making sure they wouldn’t get lost.

Or maybe it was their incessant chattering, she wonders, the complaints from Olivia and the dry retorts from Drake and the endless questions from Maxwell and Hana, how the group was so insistent on travelling everywhere together as a pack with her as their tour guide.

But she didn’t care, she realised, because all those moments accumulated to Liam finding the opportunity to pull her away from her role of their delegated tour guide, when the rest of them finally got distracted with the colourful festivities amidst the other crowds.

From an aerial perspective, the Opera House stands tall and proud by itself at the end of the Circular Quay walk. People only pay attention to the front of the landmark, taking in the long flight of stairs that led up to the entrance and the white sails. The Vivid Light walk takes people around the front of the Opera House and to the right, leading them into the Royal Botanical gardens that overlooks the Harbour Bridge and the city skyline.

No one ever ventured around to the back of the Opera House. There was no need to.

And even if they did, there were just so many nooks around the landmark, the shadows and cold winter breeze by the sea acting as their curtain.

The wall pressed against her back is cold and hard, but his arms around her and the peppered kisses along her jaw makes her feel incredibly heated.

She knows that look too well; dark eyes hazed over with lust, lips swollen from shared kisses.

His voice was deeper than usual, raspy and desperate, groans leaving his lips at the feeling of her body against his, “I couldn’t wait until we got back to the hotel…”

She grins at his words, gasping when his fingers pull at the collar of her sweater, his kisses moving to behind her ear before trailing down across her collarbone and her décolletage.

His hands that followed the curves of her body, tugging and pulling at her clothes had made their way underneath and between her legs, fingers coy and toying.

“Why? I thought you… ah… enjoyed… mm… their company…”, Her words are slurred, her own hands pulling at his hair as his fingers work in tantalizing circles at her heat.

“I do…”, He mutters as his fingers continue to please her, delving further into her wetness before curling upwards familiarly, teasing. “But they wouldn’t stop asking you questions about this or that… They haven’t left you alone with me for more than five seconds…”

His finger is still curled within her, his thumb mirroring the pulses of pressure against her clit with emphasis at each word, “…I want you. All. To. Myself.”

Her hips buckle into his fingers, head tilted back into the wall with her eyes closed, bottom lip between her teeth. “Ah, fuck, Liam…”

Liam presses his forehead against hers, eyes half lidded, so dark and so full of want as his other hand moves to hoist her leg up, wrapping it around his waist. He groans out her name as he grinds into her core. “Don’t stop looking at me, my queen, I want to see you come undone…”

And his fingers quicken their pace; in, curl, rub, out, in, out, repeat. His thumb, putting more pressure but not too much that it becomes painful on her clit, switches from slow circles to faster ones.

Her brows are furrowed, mouth open in quiet ecstasy, legs trembling and hips rolling, but her eyes never leave his. His lips meet hers for a quick second before his teeth cling onto her bottom lip, tugging, his other hand moving from her hoisted leg to her thigh, up and up to squeeze her ass.

When she comes, she is writhing. Her ears are hot and her eyes are stinging as she refuses to blink, to tear her gaze away from his. She is quiet, his name rolling off her tongue in a frenzied, heated whisper.

Liam smiles at her, stepping back slightly after kissing her forehead which was now sticky from sweat. His actions are quick, unbuckling his pants and letting them pool at his feet. His hand, still wet from her high, strokes along his own hard length.

At times, their lives can be so happy and simple, full of laughter and pleasant, innocent kisses. The sense of normalcy is so heavily craved when their life is filled with duties of ruling a country and managing a duchy.

Her bottom lip is caught on her teeth, her mouth dry as she looks at the sight before her; Liam, standing tall with his broad shoulders and straight posture. The shadows were supposed to be their curtain, yet it complimented the dark, lusting look on his face so well.

In a sea of commoners, he is a king.

A master of body language.

So in the rare circumstance that the duties of country and court are not overtaking their lives, his art of kingship is more prevalent.

“Strip.”

She shudders, her fingers quickly and diligently working at pulling her pants off before moving back up, making quick work of pulling her sweater off and unbuttoning the shirt underneath.

Such a simple word, but spoken with such power.

He is the king, and he doesn’t let her forget that.

“Good girl…”, He steps back in, kissing her as he caresses her cheek with his free hand. Her other hand meets his along the length of his hardness, pumping him hard and slow; down and up with a slight twist right at his head and back down.

Liam groans into her touch, his hips moving slightly along with the work of her hands. “My Queen…”, His voice is emphasized in a hiss as her thumb grazes along his tip.

His hands are now on her hips, hoisting her up and pressing her up against the wall. It forces her arms to hold onto his shoulders instead of giving her the pleasure of pleasuring him back.

She finds herself void of complaints however as she feels his head slide tantalizingly slow against her folds. She clings onto him, letting her lips kiss his as she tries to push him into her, praying gravity would be on her side against the strength of his arms wrapped around her frame.

She growls when he doesn’t give in, “Liam, for the love of Cordonia, fuck me.”

He tuts at her, letting his weight and an arm hold her in place above the ground while his other hand continues teasing her. He doesn’t stop, pushing just the head of his length in before taking it out again.

She is whimpering, she is wanton. Her hips try to buck in her favour when he teases but it is no parallel to the strength in his arms.

“Is this how you speak to your king? Even after neglecting him?”, His eyes are so unbelievably dark when he is teasing; he lets himself slide in just a little bit more this time, before sliding back out. Liam looks at her expectantly.

She lets out a small cry, “I’m ah… sorry, my king, for getting distracted ah!... by… the others… fuck.”

“Good… Now let me show you just how much I’ve missed you, my Queen.” His forehead is on hers as he finally slides himself fully into her, the mewls that leave her lips music in his ears. He closes his eyes for a brief second, relishing at the feeling of her warmth around his length. “Fuck, my love, you are so wet.” His eyes open again, making sure that she keeps her eyes on him as he begins to move.

His thrusts are slow, hard and deep. His eyes are intense and his voice deep, muttering, “Fuck, my Queen, did you miss me? Did you miss me being inside of you? Filling you up?”

Liam’s free hand caresses and squeezes at her breasts, groaning at the mewls that she tries so hard to silence.

He is powerful, and each thrust force her up against the wall slightly, body falling and moving in time to his movements; his grips are now on her waist, holding her tightly so she doesn’t fall.

“Keep moaning my name, my love.”

“Liam… Liam… fuck, my King…”

“That’s it… You’re so wet for me, my Queen… Did I make you this wet?”

She is gasping and clawing at his back, clinging on to his body, taking in every powerful thrust. She wants to roll her head back in pleasure but she doesn’t dare, admiring the look of concentration in his eyes, the focus he has on his face. Both their foreheads touching, hair clinging onto their faces, wet and sweaty.

He moves just slightly, mouth latching onto her neck, sucking and biting as his other hand grasps onto her ass allowing him to angle his thrusts deeper. She lets a loud gasp slip and he smirks against her neck, moving back up to look at her.

“Fuck! Liam…!”

“I love pleasing you, my Queen… I fucking love hearing you call my name…”

Liam picks up his pace, head delving back down to leave kisses on her décolletage, her breasts and she is so thankful of the wall behind her, supporting their weight as he fucks her. The tightness in her stomach grows with his increased speed, the hotness appearing again in her head with each thrust, pushing her closer and closer to the edge; her ears must be red as she calls for him to look at her.

His name is a mantra on her lips, a hand of hers now on her clit, rubbing desperately as his speed increases, pushing her to her high.

Her rhythm matched his rough thrusts, the look of her pleasuring herself almost setting him off. She is writhing in his arms when he growls out her name, the thrust that accompanied it pushing her over the edge; her back arches into him and he takes the liberty to leave marks on her chest, his other hand digging into her ass.

Liam does not stop, thrusts still hitting her as he lets her ride out her high. Her chest is heaving and her eyes are heavy when she comes back down, her hand moving away from her core to rest on his shoulder again.

He lets her legs touch the floor but keeping a strong hold on her as she struggles slightly to maintain her balance. His voice is still raspy as he mutters, quickly turning her around so she is facing away from him, the both of them away from the wall so they wouldn’t get hurt.

“I’m not quite done with you yet, my Queen.”

His hand grasps her hair into his fist and his other pushes her back so her posture is bent; his knees spread her legs apart and he angles himself against her before thrusting back in.

“Shit, Liam…!”

He is almost merciless as he picks up the speed and the intensity of his thrusts again. His grasp on her hair is dulled by his other hand on her shoulder, holding her in place as he takes her from behind.

Liam peppers kisses along her upper back and shoulders, whispering ‘I love you’s into her ear as his other hand now moves to the front of her body, nipples between his fingers, flesh in his hands as he squeezes and caresses.

If he wasn’t supporting the weight of it all, she was convinced she would be collapsed on the floor at that very moment. She leans up into him, feeling the knot in her stomach make its return for the third time that night.

“Liam… Liam… fuck, baby, keep going… fuck, Liam…”

His hand now takes place on her clit, rubbing in harsh circles, edging her on. He is so incredibly hard and rough, biting down on his own bottom lip as his fingers brushes against his own length, feeling himself thrusting into her, the wetness of her folds, listening to her pants of his name disappearing into the cold, winter night.

He knows she is close and he lets go of her hair, making her tilt her face towards him as he kisses her. Both of their eyes boldly open yet so clouded with love and lust.

“I’m so close baby, please don’t stop…”

He curses in his mind, wishing there was a mirror in front of them so he could show her just how he makes her come undone once more.

“Come for me, my Queen…”

He urges her on and he can feel her walls tighten; his thrusts are desperate but not lacking, hitting the very spot in her over and over as his fingers work magic on her clit.

When she comes again, her walls are clenched around his length and he comes with her, spilling into her as he rides out his high.

His thrusts are slow and sluggish before it comes to a stop, their bodies still as one as they just stand there, catching their breath. Their hair is a sweaty mess and he presses lazy kisses on her shoulder and along her neck, not caring the slightest as he smiles into her skin.

She loves these after moments. Her laughter starts off as nothing but a soft giggle but he soon joins her, both of them in the post-sex high.

“I love you, my queen.”

“I love you too, my king.”

Liam can’t help but grin.

He pulls out of her and thus begins their clean up routine; pocket tissues serving their duty to tidy, Liam picking up her clothing and helping her dress first so she stays warm before dressing himself.

He presses his lips against her forehead once more once they are done and he takes her hand, the both of them stepping out of the shadows to stroll back towards the front of the Opera House.

When they check their phones, they realise they’ve received at least twenty missed calls and unread messages from a worried Maxwell who seemed convinced they’ve been killed by drop bears, more worried texts and missed calls from Hana, a few from Olivia and the latest one being from Drake – “If you two don’t get your fucking asses back here to shut Maxwell up, I swear to fucking Zeus I will set the apple orchards on fire again. Cordonia can flounder for all I care, I’m moving to Australia.”

Liam lets out an almost nervous laughter as he quickly texts him back, letting him know that they got lost and will be waiting for them at the top of the steps of the Opera House.

They sit at the top of the steps, Liam directly behind her with his arms around her frame. It was a glorious view before them; the bustle of people still very much evident, lights and music coming from the Royal Botanical Gardens on the left, excited screams of children down near the front of Circular Quay, the changing colours of the Sydney Harbour Bridge on the right with the colours controlled at some distant panel somewhere by the crowds as part of the festival and the warm glow of lights from the Opera House behind them.

“I’m so glad we came here, my love.” Liam speaks almost absentmindedly as his fingers try to brush through her hair.

“Yea? I’m glad too, Liam. I’m happy I was able to share a part of my home with you…”, Her smile is soft as she leans into his chest, looking up at him.

“It was the least I can do… It’s not fair for you that you threw everything away to move to Cordonia and me being unable to return the favour.” Liam leans down to kiss her upside-down nose.

She grins, “It was very considerate of you to book us rooms at Park Hyatt… Having sex with you with Opera House in the background and actually doing it at the Opera House is quite different.”

Liam chuckles and raises an eyebrow at her, “Are you implying we come back here for round two later?”

“Nah, there’s other famous Sydney landmarks that I want us to visit.”, She winks at him.

“…And I’m the kinky one?”

Her smile is so blindingly bright and beautiful. She reaches up to caress his cheek, admiring the feel of his peppered stubble under her fingertips. “Thank you for this amazing surprise, Liam. I love it, and I love you.”

He stares down at her with such love in his eyes, she feels like she is going to melt.

“You are most welcome.”, Liam leans down once more to press his lips onto hers. “Happy birthday, my love. Here’s to many more.”

[atiredwriter42-blog]

Grandfather’s Visitor

Simply because a key unlocks a door, does not mean the door invites you in.

That leads to an essential question, what exactly classifies as an invitation from the door? Of course, a door cannot move—as that would make it a wall— and only few can speak (courtesy of Delilah). If we were to take out such factors, then how do you respect the door’s privacy without seeming crazy? Well, reading this piece of literature means you have lost your mind to the devil, so that is quite trivial to ask.

“Oh door, the guardian of the room! How do I enter such a vessel?” I would approach.

Of course, many would denounce your words as insanity, but respect is to respect nonetheless. How rude would it be if someone grabbed you by the knob and entered? The audacity of many to just assume the door would let you in!

“Listen here you scheming demon, stop the possession of my Grandfather! He is no longer yours for the taking!” My grandson once told me after hearing my ritual of cordiality. Oh boy, if only you understood! The demon rests inside your soul as you disrespect the doors life! The knob you foolishly turn and the room you blindly walk into do not want you! Only when you ask the permission of the gatekeeper can you enter the sanctuary!

The boy simply goes around without any care and uses the power of exorcism and demons in vain. What is that? Of course, it’s true! You believe a silly book and words make a demon leave a body? I admire your ignorance! God’s will has no effect on this world, as he has shunned this world and the ruler of demons with it. The devil above scoffs at your attempts to rid them of their own domain. His pity is what allows your weak souls to leave the grasps of the demon! Your foolish min—

What? Who? Say that again? The devil would like to speak to me? Preposterous, the condemned need not speak with the damned. Leave me! Go away! . . . . . .

A deal, you say? Well… when you arrange your words in a manner like that, I can’t possibly refuse! What are your wishes? Ah yes, of course! That would, by the standards of society, be eschewed from. However, absurdity is what makes our world go!

You have but one question. I know this because I feel your prying eyes on my soul, tearing away at its layers to understand and examine what lies beneath.

“Why are you doing all of this?” A low, demonic voice—one that would shake the soul out of anyone, and anything—spoke out to me at that very moment.

Before I would scoff at the foolishness of humans, but here I am, scoffing at the devil himself!

A rumble, shake, and low growl frightens me to the core! Foolish is the common man, but even more foolish am I! My head falls to the ground in a bow, whether this be instinctive or forced I do not know.

Once again, the creature asks the question, and this time, I answer without a laugh or taunt. I opened my mouth to speak, and words flooded out, but I could not hear anything my mouth spewed at the devil. Maybe the censorship of the mind was of my own doing, or that of the devil. Only he can peer into the soul, and understand the inner workings of ourselves. For centuries we have tried opening this third eye of ourselves, but only now have I looked into it and saw only despair. My mouth seized to speak anymore, and the devil seemed satisfied. The sound around me filled my ears as if a child opened a window in a cool room and allowed the heat to blast in.

I believe that the devil works in ways we cannot understand, but does not want to disrupt like many believe their “God” behaves. Those demons that haunt humans and lift them as a fleshy balloon are not because the demons hate humans, but because the humans hate demons. This sudden realization came to me after the visit from Lucifer Himself.

The epiphanies that came to me never stopped, even at this very moment. Even as I lie here, bloodied knife in hand, I understand the world that many blindly cannot see. This only came to me with sacrifice, and darling Gill, and sweet Jonathan, I thank you for giving your lives for the advancement of knowledge.

One thing still bugs me, still causes my skin to crawl and shiver, and I cannot find the answer. One trivial matter—that many would consider as such, but to me means the world—Has led me to insanity. Of course, I was never insane until this very moment. With the blood of my loved ones clothing me, I cannot answer one question. Why? More questions I cannot answer!

One last sacrifice is needed. My life, which was blessed, or cursed, must be returned to its owner with the knowledge I have borrowed.

I stand here, Gill, Jonathan, about to join you. There is no heaven or hell, as I have come to realize in my many insights into the world, and we all end up back from which we came. All that is needed, is to sink this knife into my Jugular.

These final words I have written down has proven to be quite difficult. Draining the blood of two humans and finding the deepest, darkest red of the two was much too messy. However, these words are of the utmost importance, and therefore warrant the mess. As I near the end, the blood runs dry. It seems as though the final sentence of this letter will have to be in my own blood. My throat gushes the ink I use, and soon I will not feel the immense pain. Goodbye… Cruel… Wor— Oh no! The boy! Why must he...  see the room in this state? Does he not know it is disrespectful to not... ask the door… fo…  (The words of the paper fade away, trailing down to a line of blood off the page.)

[killcapitalizm]

school’s out, let’s go get some ice cream; peter parker

request: part 2 to my heart flutters when i see you!

word count: 2,848

warnings: idk cute dumb teens. i didn’t edit this?

a/n: thank you guys for liking part 1 enough to want a part 2!! listened to this while writing. disclaimer, the store mentioned here isn’t a real store. also, i used some virginia woolf quotes here. they will be bolded. love you!! <3

tags: @kaliforniacoastalteens (if you wanna be tagged in future fics, just ask <3)

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Summer was burning out and while that never necessarily meant the end of crime, autumn seemed to be slowing down the criminals in Queens. Not that Peter wanted people to do bad things and break the law, but it was awfully boring (not to mention it’d be incredibly hard to impress Mr. Stark when there was nothing to impress him with). He’s nearly forgotten all of his hobbies while he was busy being Spider-man. He wasn’t quite sure what to do after school one day when he noticed that for about a week now, the only thing he’s done as Spider-man was occasionally direct lost people to their destination. And maybe it wasn’t just criminals that slowed in autumn; the entire city moved with a lag and Peter hasn’t seen a single jogger for the last two weeks. There was at first something peaceful about it but his head was always racing so something that should be considered a blessing was now the source of aching boredom for him. He really needed to do something new.

The first week of October became painfully still when Ned was pulled away to visit some relatives in another state for a while. He didn’t have any other friends that were as close to him as Ned, no one else shared every interest of his, and on the way to Biology one day he considered putting on his suit and swinging around the city just so he was doing something.

You glance at Peter as he walks into the classroom and you notice how disinterested he looks– it’s a look you haven’t seen on him for at least a year now. That boy’s eyes always shone, even in the dark they twinkled. There’s something up when that innocent light fades.

“Peter!” You called out and he meets your gaze. “C’mere.”

He shuffles over to you and sits next to you. “Uh, hey, Y/N.”

“How’re you feeling?” You offer a smile that he doesn’t return.

“Fine,” he answers, and then he’s gone again; he moves robotically as he pulls out his textbook while his mind is far away from this school and this city. You sigh, deciding to leave him be for now. You know better than to handle his gentleness with pushiness.

The class moves slowly, as Peter expected. You spent most of your time remembering that one time you told Peter that Michelle overheard him and he had gone red within a second and started apologizing over and over. You had told him that you really appreciated that he thought that and that it made you happy. Now, you wish you had said something smarter. Wittier. Better. Something that didn’t sound as obvious as “It means a lot coming from you.”

You clicked your pen. It’s over and done with. You shouldn’t worry about it. And then you smile to yourself because it feels a lot better to stop stressing over things you can’t change.

The final school bell rings for the day and you gather your things and shove them in your backpack. You fish you wallet out and check how much cash you have. Forty dollars should be enough.

“Peter?” You stand up next to him. He seems to snap out of whatever world he was in.

“Yeah?” He quickly starts to slide his belongings into his bag.

“Let’s go get ice cream.” You grin at him.

“W-What?” He looked up at you.

“Ice cream, you and me,” you say, grabbing his hand and tugging at him.

“Wait, why?” He stumbles as he stands up, nearly knocking his chair over. “Y/N!”

You pull him out of the classroom and head for the exit. “School’s out, let’s go get some ice cream. You need something fun.”

Peter sputters a bit more before quieting and simply letting you lead him off campus. You don’t let go of his hand, even when you enter the sluggish streets of Queens’ autumn. He dared to close his fingers around your hand and glanced up to find a giddy smile on your face. It took him a moment, but soon he shared that smile, glad to be doing something other than wondering what to do.

You led him to a street he rarely ever visited as Spider-man and has never been to as Peter. The street was far too quiet for a city street and it gave him some odd feeling of being foreign, stronger than when he was in Berlin. He pulled his hand away from yours nervously and you looked at him questioningly (and disappointedly).

“Ah, sorry,” Peter mumbled. “My-My hand’s getting sweaty.”

You playfully elbowed him, but didn’t take his hand again out of respect. “Mine, too.” You laugh gently. To your joy, Peter laughed a bit, too. Maybe he’s coming back.

“So, um, why’d you bring me here?” He asked as you crossed the empty street together, approaching a small but tidy sweets shop by the name of Fairy Floss.

“You look pretty down today,” you answered. “You’ve honestly looked awfully depressed lately, but today especially. I don’t know all the details– and don’t worry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to– but you should take better care of yourself.”

“Take care? I’m fine.” Peter went for the door but you beat him to it and let him in first. “And I’m not depressed.”

“Pete, I might not be as close to you as Ned is, but I know you better than you think I do.” You wish that was as deep as it sounded. You’ve just been around him long enough to notice the not-as-obvious about him. You wish you had gotten closer to him before the internship, it’s taken up most of his free time (although lately he hasn’t been as busy, which made you happy). “Something’s going on and I think it’s high time you think about yourself.”

Peter chokes something out and looks down, hands fiddling. You walk into the shop after him and tug him over to the counter. There’s an old woman behind the counter with a kind face and tired eyes. You smile gently at her.

“Hey, Milena,” you make sure to speak softly to her.

“Y/N, I haven’t seen you for a few weeks.” Her voice is gravelly and older than her body. “Have you finally brought me the Peter boy?”

You blush faintly, hoping she wouldn’t say anything about what you’ve said about him to her. You talk to her almost exclusively about Peter. “Yeah.”

Peter looked at you, clearly confused, but Milena beat you to it.

“Y/N tells me about you sometimes. You’re a lovely boy, Peter.” She staggers out of her chair and limps over to the counter. “What can I get for you, darling?”

“U-Uh…” Peter quickly looks up at the menu that was displayed behind Milena. “R-Rocky road ice cream?”

“And the usual for me, please. Both large cups.” You add, then bring Peter over to a table so that Milena can work. Once you sat down in front of Peter, you decided to try to talk to him.

“D’you want to tell me what’s going on with you?” You spoke barely above a whisper. “‘Cause I know you’re not feeing too great.”

“I, uh, I just–“ He shrugged. “I don’t know. I– yeah. I don’t know.”

You don’t know how to poke at him, so you just try to be careful. “How do you feel?”

“Fine,” he says.

“How have you felt lately, then?”

“Um… bored, I guess?”

“Bored?”

“Yeah… yeah. Maybe stuck.”

“Ah.” You’ve felt like that before. Last summer break, you were feeling like that. So you did something about it. “Do something new.”

“What?”

“You need to do something new.” You sit back in your chair and smile at him.

“Like–Like what?” He stays in his hunched over position.

“I don’t know. Have you ever gone parasailing?”

“Parasailing?”

You laughed lightly. “It was pretty fun. Not as extreme as you’d think it is. But my point is, do something new. Actually, it doesn’t even have to be new. Do something you don’t do often.”

“But… What? I–I don’t really get, uh, what you’re getting at.” Peter played with the sleeves of his sweater, looking out of the shop’s window. There’s nothing moving outside.

“You said you felt bored and stuck. It’s been pretty dead around the city lately so sometimes you gotta go decide to do something yourself.” You shrug. “It worked for me last summer. Go live your best life.”
 “But I–“

Milena walked out from the back room with two cups of ice cream. “Kids?”

You stand up, but Peter’s already walking to the counter so you sit back down.

Peter smiles nervously at Milena, who seems to wear a permanent smile. “Uh, thanks, Miss.”

“You’re very welcome, Peter,” she croons. Then, she chuckles lightly and motions for Peter to lean toward her. When he does, she whispers in his ear, “I can see that look in your eyes when you look at Y/N. She shares it. Just in case you ever foolishly forget; she’s never not thinking of you.”

And then she leaves him with that whisper, limping her way to the back room. Peter is fairly sure she knows what she was talking about, but he didn’t want to believe it. Well, he did want to believe that Milena was saying that Y/N likes him back, but believing that would be dangerous if she were wrong about you. He hoped she wasn’t wrong. He hoped that whatever he chose to believe about that was the right choice.

“Isn’t she nice?” You ask Peter as he sits down with the ice cream, giving you your respectful cup. You pick up the spoon that came with it. “Milena is my mother’s friend. She’s an odd woman but that’s what’s so endearing about her.”

“Y–Yeah. She’s nice.” He mumbled and glanced out the window again. There was still nothing moving.

You opted to talk about something less serious while you ate with him, getting him to hold a conversation with you about a terrible gym teacher, a stupid Spanish project, an upsetting pop quiz in World History, and whatever else you two talked about. You saw a faint twinkle in his eyes and you grinned.

“I have an idea,” you say once you both have finished eating. “I know where to go.”

“What? Where?” Peter looked up at you.

“You’ll see. Can you throw this away for me, please? I need to go pay.” He nearly argued with you but then realized he didn’t bring any money, so he nodded and picked up your empty cups, going to throw them away as you walked over to the counter, pulling out your wallet.

Milena gives you a knowing look and mumbles to you, “She was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. With Stars in her eyes and veils in her hair, with cyclamen and wild violets.”

You frowned at her. “The flower bloomed and faded. The sun rose and sank. The lover loved and went.” You set down a twenty dollar bill and shake your head when she reached to give you change.

“And you wish to be a poet; and you wish to be a lover,” she says, then waves you off. You sigh and roll your eyes, walking away from Milena and her encouragement. You know that Peter doesn't like you.

“So, where are we going?” Peter asks when you meet him at the door. This time, he opens it for you.

“You’ll see, Pete. It'll be fun.” You walk out and offer your hand, which he takes (you're relieved, if he didn't you would have left him right there out of embarrassment).

“Can you give me a hint?” He presses, walking with you away from the shop and away from the lifeless street. Finally, a car drove by, and Peter smiled a bit.

“Hmm,” you considered saying no, but you decided to humor him. “It's a dark place.”

“D–Dark?” He gives you a look, face a bit pink and you bite back a laugh.

“Yep, dark.” You winked playfully but he didn't pick up on the humor and instead blushed more.

“Oh,” he said simply, and you silently snorted at the possibilities of what he was thinking. The deep red of his cheeks were a good indicator as to what exactly he could be imagining.

It was a good while before you arrived to your destination, but it was worth the long walk. You stopped in front of an arcade, still holding Peter’s hand.

“An arcade?” He mumbled.

“There's something even better inside.” You open the door and walk in with him, leading him around the busy children and teenagers and a few adults and bring him to the back, where there was a line in front of a big door. Above it was the label Lazer Tag.

“And here we are!” You grinned.

“Woah. I haven't played laser tag since last year.” Peter looks up with a childish glint in his eyes, not as bright as usual but it was a good sign.

“I figured. You should come more often.” You pull him over into the line, joining the other waiting teens and children. “Isn't this better than doing whatever you were planning to do today?”

“Do you mean my plans to do nothing?” You both laugh, and Peter dares to believe what Milena told him because you looked far too beautiful when you laughed for him to not want to take a chance. So he started easy. “Hey, Y/N. That Milena lady from the shop likes Virginia Woolf, right?”

You froze. Milena, don't tell me you did it. “Y-Yeah. Why?”

“Um, nothing.” He didn't want to just say that she told him you liked him. She could still be wrong. “She just quoted something to me…”

“What did she say?” You successfully repressed the suspicious tone in your voice, but you still seemed a bit serious.

“Uh…” Peter’s heart raced as he thought of a non-romantic Virginia Woolf quote. “I-I’m sick to death of this particular self. I want another?”

“She hates that one.” You squinted, trying to figure out a reason Milena would say that to Peter. What was she trying to say?

Luckily for you, the line starts moving and you're soon occupied with putting on the heavy lazer tag vests and grabbing your guns. You stand to the side of the dark room with Peter, waiting for the others on your team to finish.

“Y/N?” His heart hasn't stopped racing.

“Yeah?”

“I-I lied. She didn't say that.” He admitted and rubbed his sweating palms together.

“What… What did she say?”

An employee told everyone to enter the lazer tag room and you again ceased the conversation, gathering in your team’s base. The only light came from the glowing decorations of the room and everyone’s vests. You still couldn't see very well, and neither could Peter. As the count down started from ten, you leaned over to Peter and whispered to him, “Peter, what did she say?”

“S-She…” He swallowed hard. “Just in case you ever foolishly forget; she's never not thinking of you.”

The count down ends and everyone files out of the base, but you pull Peter to a hidden corner of the room that you frequently used whenever you played here. Damn it, Milena. You both crouch down, pressing close together to try to hide from the opposing team that was no doubt wandering around close by.

“Look,” you whisper as someone started the music. Your eyes burned but you wouldn’t cry here. Not because of this. “I’m really sorry she said that to you. She- I… I’m sorry. It’s–It’s true, what she said about me, but I know that you don't like that. I’m sorry, Peter. You can forget about this.”

Oh my god, Peter screamed in his head. Oh my god, she likes me. She likes me back. His voice shook terribly as he recited one of the only Virginia Woolf quotes he knew well, “I-I would never re-write you. You are b-by far my most complete and greatest novel.”

You looked up at him in wonder. Did he really just say that? You nearly doubted your own sense of reality, but then you noticed something. Peter’s eyes shone bright, wide and childish and full of dreams. He was back. You slowly placed a hand on his face, still having trouble with the dark, and felt around for his lips with your thumb. His face was warm, he was probably blushing. You were, too.

Slowly, slowly, you leaned in. You leaned your forehead on his until you could feel his breath on your lips. He didn't pull back. So, you leaned forward, just a bit, and let your lips press to his.

“The sky stuck to them, the birds sang through them.” — Virginia Woolf, To The Lighthouse

[taesthetes]

the heartbreakers club: checkmate.

which one are you: the heartbroken or the heartbreaker?

pairing: OT7!bangtan x reader genre: angst, fluff type: au series word count: 1,465 words warnings: implications of sex, eventual profanity author’s note: this is the prologue to my new series that i’m very excited to write. the series is based on john alan lee’s color wheel theory of love and inspired by hey violet’s break my heart.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

There are only two types of people found in the world: the heartbroken and the heartbreakers.

In the vicious game of love, there is only a thin red ribbon separating the two, but fragile threads always break so easily. With just one snip of the golden scissors, the cerise strands can be pulled apart, and in that very moment, a heartbroken can slip through and masquerade as a heartbreaker.

And how, you ask? Because it is much harder to break a patched up heart. When you stitch the pieces of your heart back together, your heart is now glued together with something much more durable than the flimsy gossamer fibers of love, affection, and false promises.

And for you, once is an accident, twice is a coincidence, three times is a habit. Three heartbreaks are already three too many, and you’ll be damned if you have to endure a fourth. And by the third round, you have reapplied the glue enough times that your heart is so encased that it simply cannot possibly crack anymore from guy number four.

Nothing is more dangerous than a heartbroken girl with a vengeance.

So dry your tears, swipe on your mascara and rouge, pucker up your cherry red lips, bat those perfectly applied fake eyelashes, put on the little black dress that makes you feel like a million bucks, and slip on the mask of a heartbreaker.

After all, if you can’t beat them, join them.

Welcome to the heartbreakers club.

One month, seventeen days, and four hours later, you at last reach the moment that you had been manipulating for all this time. Quiet gasps escape between his swollen lips, his hooded eyes create a new path every time they trail up and down your scantily clad body, and the erratic pulsation of his heart is discernable under your palm.

The buried truths run through the veins beneath your skin that he traces unfathomable lines and swirls upon so fondly. The words laced with lies and deception that you let escape between your teeth are the only façade that you allow him to perceive, and it didn’t take much with this one.

By the end of the third date, you had him practically eating out of the palm of your hand and wrapped around your finger tighter than the Gordian knot. You were taught that the foolish and egotistical targets are always the easiest. And it is true.

He gazes down at you with the fondest eyes, and you return his affection with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, but he doesn’t notice. He never does. Being in love does render you a hapless fool indeed.

He runs his hand through your hair gently before placing a trail of kisses down your neck to your shoulder. He whispers words of sweet nothings, teeth brushing against your skin but never breaking past the fragile surface.

“I love you,” he sighs, sliding his fingers into the gaps between yours.

The immediate blood rushing to your cheeks is not from blushing, no, but rather, the adrenaline. And what you’re about to say next brings a thrilling sensation that sparks up from your chest and ripples down to your stomach, a smirk curling on the tips of your lips.

“That’s such a nice thing to hear… but also a pity. Especially since I don’t reciprocate the feelings.”

Checkmate.

You push yourself out of his embrace—the man much too stunned to move, still processing your harsh words—and your feet touch the soft maroon carpeted floor. Briskly, you begin to collect your clothes; first, snapping on your bra, then the rest of your undergarments, before tugging on your elegant dress. You quickly snatch up your studded clutch, rummaging through it for your camera.

“H-hey, wait, sweetie, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” Stammering, he fumbles to sit up straight, struggling among the silk sheets and reaching out for you helplessly. “I don’t understand. I-I’m sorry, what did I do wrong?”

“It’s really nothing personal. I’m just doing a sort of favor for this girl named Im Nayeon.” You smile sweetly at him as an audible gasp is heard.

“Oh, so you remember her? She remembers you quite vividly as well after you left her in such an abrupt manner last year. Anyway, say cheese for the camera, sweetie.”

Positioning the device in front of your eye, you quickly snap a candid polaroid of the man, still in disbelief, the grief stricken look glittering in his wide eyes. Capture him in his most vulnerable state, you remind yourself. Then, you snap a photo with your phone. This one is to be sent to Im Nayeon. As for the polaroid? For your own personal collection.

You give him one last superficial smile before exiting the bedroom, leaving behind a man still crying out in desperation and despair. Leisurely fixing up your makeup in the mirror by the door, you then slide on your heels and twist the doorknob, stepping out into the empty, black and white marble floored hallway decorated lavishly with Monet paintings. Your Louboutin heels clack against the polished floor in a pleasing rhythm, and you end up standing in front of the elevator. Taking out your phone, you tap out a quick message to your boss.

[23:51] you: assignment #002 is complete.

[23:51] boss: well done. we are assessing your third job now. you will receive your next assignment at 00:00.

Stepping into the elevator absentmindedly, you swipe onto a new message, typing Im Nayeon’s number in the recipient section and attaching your newest image.

[23:54] you: done.

[23:54] you: {photo sent}

Moments later, a buzz from your phone has you clicking on an unexpected bank notification. Ah, revenge is sweet and a dish best served cold, especially when it comes with an surprise bonus dessert. It seems as if Miss Im was especially grateful with your work. The past two clients had sent you several rather expensive gifts as a thank you, and you were allowed to keep all other items you acquired during your assignments as well. As such, you have amassed quite a large amount of designer clothes, shoes, bags, and jewelry among other materialistic things. Your small apartment back at home soon won’t have enough room for it all.

Nevertheless, the new, significantly larger string of numbers staring back at you has you smiling in satisfaction. Perhaps you can indulge in a little reward for yourself after working so diligently. Maybe a pair of Neiman Marcus heels? Or that Gucci bag you’ve been eyeing?

Well, you do have to look good for your next unsuspecting client. Wearing last year’s season trends probably won’t cut it. That settles it. You simply have to buy both items. Or maybe you will get a larger apartment? You have the money for it now. Hm, you’ll decide later.

At exactly midnight, you get into a taxi cab. An unaddressed manila envelope is seen on the seat, and you immediately reach for it after telling the driver your address. You already know the contents: a handwritten letter from the next girl, a compiled portfolio of your next mark, and a ticket to your next stop. Quickly tearing it open, you pull out a scented, rose pink paper decorated with remarkably neat penmanship.

To Whom It May Concern:

I need you to break a boy’s heart for me.

I’ve always waited for him to come home without fail. You see, he’s in a band and goes on tours, driving from one city to the next. I ask if I can go with him on tour, but he always deflects the question. I couldn’t believe it myself when the cheating rumors surfaced. He reassured me that the photos were fake, and my stupid self foolishly believed him.

I decided to pay him a surprise visit at one of the tour stops. I found him in bed with another girl. Turns out, he’s been cheating on me for the past two years every night with a different starstruck fan.

He’s twenty-three years old, brown eyes, dark russet blond hair streaked with pink. Don’t be fooled by his innocent looking doe eyes. He’ll ruin you faster than you realize. You may know him as the front singer for the punk rock band The Renegades.

The asshole's name is Jeon Jungkook.

With love,

Rochelle Evers

Carefully folding up the letter and putting it back into the envelope, you examine the other items enclosed. Eyes quickly scanning the contents of the portfolio containing detailed information of your newest target along with a plane ticket to your next destination, your mouth curves into a derisive smile as a small chuckle filters through your lips.

“It will be my utmost pleasure to break your heart, Mr. Jeon Jungkook.”