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#and i was sitting there like sir to be completely candid i do not even comprehend what the line is saying

jazzmasternot · 1 month

Text

Hazbin hotel college AU head cannons

Note: decided to write these out after reading @sprainedwriting’s fanfic about Adam being a frat boy and I took that concept and ran with it.

Obviously this is based off of my own university experience where I attend a really big public university in the southern US. so that’s where my takes are coming from.

This is also my first time writing anything on here so there’s that aswell.

Charlie

Majors in musical theatre, but not performance education. She wants to be the unhinged theatre teacher that everyone loves. Lives in one of those really fancy student apartment lofts with keke. And is part of the cat club where she feeds the cats on campus

Vaggie

She probably does something super hard like biomedical engineering (let’s go women in stem!) which takes up allot of her time already. Is also an RA for one of the dorms on campus which is good for her bc free housing and gets paid to do her homework at the front desk. Met Charlie in an English class and have been together ever since. When she’s not on call she’s spending the night at Charlie’s and Charlie’s almost always sitting at the front desk with vaggie even tho she doesn’t work or live at the dorm and no one says anything bc it’s just not that deep.

Alastor

Majors in audio engineering and runs the campus radio station that people definitely still listen too. He went to community college first then transferred to a four year (to save money ofc) and is a commuter where he still lives with his mom. Does work study where he works the front desk of the library where he does his homework and works on his scripts for his radio show. Has no interest in working with Vox since he runs the tv channel simply bc he doesn’t want all that extra work. Still takes his notes on pen and paper and still has a nightmare of a time figuring out to electronically submit all his assignments and take his tests.

Angel dust

Okay so hear me out he majors in math ikik it sounds crazy but every gay math major I’ve ever met acts just like Angel dust. Goes to raves and frat parties even tho the guys don’t want him there but he always brings girls with him so the kinda have to let him in. Does nude modeling for extra cash at the art school so he’s kinda a celeb over there even tho he’s not in anyway related to that major.

Husk

Majors in Restaurant and hotel management and is one of those college students that are in their late twenties so already has more life experience than most other ppl here so he doesn’t do allot of the stupid college that allot of other ppl do. Lives in some off campus apartment that’s just a large house rented out to students made to look like a apartment (yk the ones in talking abt) works at the dive bar located just off campus that everyone goes to atleast once in their four years.

Sir pentious

Majors in mechanical engineering or industrial design I can’t really decided. Definitely uses the 3D printer all the time and is on the robotics team, which wins every competition they go to.

Nifty

She’s changed her major so many times nobody knows anymore. Is part of the kpop club and has biases complete with intricately decorated covers, like she has so many photo cards. Also runs the campus hotties account where it’s just a bunch of candids of cute guys taken from far away. Will also get really pissed if you don’t wash your dishes bc it will attract bugs so if ur her roommate you better do the dam dishes.

Cherry bomb

Art major and is the one who got Angel the nude modeling gig. Is always pulling all nighters bc she kept postponing the assimgment till the last minute. Has probably vandalized a couple buildings surrounding the university but hasn’t been caught. Goes to raves and the aforementioned frat parties with Angel. Also has a traffic cone in her dorm room for no other reason than just bc.

Vox

Majors in multi media marketing, runs the campus tv and YouTube channel. Definitely the president of a frat that inflates his ego more than it already is. Always at sporting events at the front row with all the frat guys giving everyone the inside scoop and game commentary. Is very pissed that alastor won’t work with him. Treats himself like a campus celebrity even tho ppl could care less and are just trying to get their degree.

Valentino

majors in film and media productions yeah he’s one of those. Always asking if you’ve seen pulp fiction and telling you that you need to watch some random black and white movie that’s only in French. Will definitely invite you over to watch something with you but we all know that’s not the case. Also all his film projects has allot of unnecessary nudity and sex under the guise of artistic expression, even when it’s so not relevant to the plot. Unless it’s a film that he’s making for the university in which case Vox is controlling every aspect of it which in this case is a good thing. Smokes in his dorm room without a care in the world and has really loud inconsiderate sex at any random point in the 24 hour day cycle.

Velvette

Majors in public relations and runs the university’s Instagram account. She’s always walking up to ppl with a lil microphone to ask you to tell us what you’re wearing. Speaking off she always comes to class dressed up (like the international students) no leggings and tennis shoes for her. Also is definitely in a divine nine sorority, and runs their insta too.

Carmilla

She’s a professor for the aerospace engineering dept and shes here bc she got sick of making rockets for Lockheed Martin and reatheon. Hella smart and ppl are baffled that she chose to give up a seven figure job to teach a bunch of college kids but she’s so chill abt it tho.

Zestial

Definitely English lit professor, makes you read the books no one’s heard of and not the classics. Always brings his own open regular coffee mug from his house to sip his tea from instead of a thermos, everyone asks how he doesn’t spill it on his ride to work. Also just straight up has an electric kettle in his office so he can have tea whenever he wants. Takes turns with carmilla eating lunch in each other’s offices.

Rosie

Studies agriculture sciences and food processing. Will probably run a slaughter house when she’s done with her degree. Hangs out with Alastor in his radio booth from time to time just to gossip about whatever drama is going around lately. Wears long skirts and a tote bag all the time. Is always sweet to Charlie and Emily, also loathes Vox just as much as Alastor she just finds him annoying.

Lucifer

Is probably a religion professor that’s not religious at all and is super laid back in his class like one easy discussion board post a week. The kinda guy to be like “it’s so nice out let’s have class outside today guys” or “if I make this shot ur all getting extra credit on the quiz this week”.

Adam

Definitely majors in finance and is a frat boy. And his band plays at all the said frat parties. Is very insufferable to talk to at parties will try tell you how crypto is the currency of the future and how wolf of Wall Street is his favorite movie. Has a Saturdays are for the boys flag in his room and navy blue sheets. Oh did I mention he vapes he definitely vapes those Mike Tyson ones that taste awful and look like bricks yeah those. Always gets drunk at the tailgate way before the game is even started.

Lute

Yeah she’s in premed and wants everyone to know she’s better than you bc of it. Everyone else’s major is easy compared to hers so don’t you dare complain about all your assignments in her vicinity. She’s basically made it her whole identity like she’s in the premed honors society, future doctors of America. Types her notes on her laptop and then rewrites them with all her gel pens and fancy highlighters, like thee be so colorfull and pretty then the title would be something like blood clots. Still friends with Adam bc they went to the same highschool together and always helping him with his homework in turn he gets her into the tailgate tents and frat parties so she always gets free alcohol.

Emily

Majors in Elementary education and looks like it too, with the Stanley cup, James Avery charm bracelet, and all. She also takes super pretty notes but she does them in class which is super power all in itself, like her desk is scattered with gel pens and highlighters of every color and swears by her bullet journal. She also feeds the cats on campus with Charlie and runs the arts and crafts club on campus where they always host events like tote bag painting in the grass area of the university. Also doesn’t drink bc she’s not twenty one yet even tho she’s in college and definitely won’t smoke even tho most of the ppl that show up to her events are total potheads

Sera

She’s like the university president who doesn’t actually GAF abt the students and just fund’s athletics and raises tuition every year under miscellaneous fees. She tries to come off as supportive when she’s out in public but no one’s buying it.

188 notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years

Note

Neige LeBlanche first time he sees Crewel daughter during an event where RSA and Princess Academy have to merged, he sees in his opinion a beautiful magpie in a crowd of colorful song birds as she the only one who wore a black dress with gold trimming and a red shawl ( Eva dress from dmc )

What he didn't know she already have someone in mind and he go to NRC ( a lie so she don't have to interact a RSA student much for good some reason )

When he sees you it's like looking at those crushes in the coming of age movies

You're adjusting your cape-jacket and he’s seeing this whole moment in slow motion

I imagine Neige is new to the feeling of attraction

So all he’s registering is that he’s suddenly really hot

And he really wants to hear the sound of your voice

So he’ll make his way over to you

Completely oblivious to the parting crowd at the Winter ball

You’re hard to miss anyway but he just has tunnel-vision

He introduces himself when he gets to you who conveniently just finished speaking to someone

“Good evening, I’m Neige Leblanche from the Royal Sword Academy. I just wanted you to say you're looking lovely today.”

“Oh, well thank you, sir. I’m (Y/n) Crewel of the Princess academy.”

You turned to walk away only for his chimelike voice to beckon you back

“If I may, I’d like to be your first dance for the night.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Leblanche but I’m already scheduled to dance with–”

You look across the room and in a perfect world

You continue with “Vil” who has met eyes with you and quickly excuses himself to stand at your side

But the world is not and your father’s not an idiot

“My father Divus Crewel.”

Beforehand he will gush about how he worries you’ll drift as you age from him and that he wants to savor these moments with you

And of course you want to soothe your poor father

So you agreed to dance with him for every dance into the night

With your matching colors of gold black and red you proudly stand as icons for Night Raven and Princess Academy

And even when he wants to squeeze in a dance while you and your father are taking a break

Crewel will shoo you off with a task to refill his cup while he talks down the student

“See here, pup. Your plenty fine as a candidate to date my daughter but I will not sit idly by as you try to sweep her off her feet–”

“Oh okay, uhm Sir–”

“Quiet pup if you must question me, than you need to learn what I wil allow.”

While he’s off lecturing the RSA student

One of your lurking bachelors sweeps in and takes you to the dancefloor

Prime suspects are Vil Schoenheit, Malleus Draconia, Jade Leech, and oddly enough Idia Shroud

Malleus was reasonably waiting

“May I ask for this dance Child of Crewel, I’d be honored.”

Vil is smooth

he's used to doing this seeing as you are childhood friends

“Figured we finally get a dance in before your father returns.”

Jade is cordial about it but he’s so suave in the way he cuts off some lingering bachelor to guide you to the dance floor

“I’ve been wanting to steal you away. Won’t you indulge me for a bit?”

But Idia is a special case

You were sent to the snack table to get drinks but guess who’s also just chilling by the snacks

“Idia, it's good to see you. You look incredibly dashing tonight.”

He’s blushing really hard and his hair is flaring pink

“T-thanks.”

You two will stand in silence before he pushes out of his comfort zone

“S-so d-do y-you want to dance?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

Idia might get away with it as long as he freaks out and runs as soon as the music breaks

But should a creep of confidence trickle in

He’s going to be the victim of Crewel’s vengeful glare

And the curious gaze from the envy that is born in Neige’s heart

But hey it was worth it to feel your hand and waist in his hands

“Big Brother! You got to dance with them after all!”

“Y-yeah. Turns out she-she is better than an otome game.”

From then on either your father jumps back in or you wave him off to dance with your Night Raven bachelors

Leaving Neige to welcome this feeling of jealousy

"T-this feeling...I'm not fond of it..."

802 notes · View notes

puppiesandnightlock · 3 months

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LINK: I Just Really Hate Your Face

summary: Top Student Damian Wayne is assigned to tutor his high school's resident Juvenile Delinquent, Jonathan Kent, who seems less interested in his work and more interested in his handsome tutor.

Damian is *not* having it.

aka the Bad Boy x Good Student Jondami AU no one really asked for but i delivered anyways

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that, sir?” Damian gritted out, unbelieving.

Oblivious to the pain in his voice, the principal repeated what he had said just moments before in an overly-cheery tone.

“You are being assigned to tutor Jonathan Kent. Hopefully, you’ll be able to get his grades up by the end of this year, for both semesters. And perhaps you may be able to corral him into actually showing at his classes.”

Damian controlled the scowl beginning to show on his face. Jonathan Kent was the worst possible student he could have gotten. What would merely associating himself with a boy like that do to his spotless reputation? Surely, this would be placed on his record, and he didn’t see how tutoring the school’s resident juvenile delinquent would appeal him to universities.

And he was supposed to influence him? Gods above, help him.

“Sir. With all due respect, why is he even in this program? Certainly there are many other viable candidates…more respectable people that would benefit from my teaching.” he attempted to phrase this in a way that was not outright insulting.

“Damian, you are well aware, I'm sure, that you are this academy’s top student, and you’ve worked hard to get to this spot, unlike many other kids. I think that you can give Mr. Kent a push in the right direction, if not outright change him for the better. You signed up for this program, did you not?”

“I did, sir.” if not only for the nice view if would give his college admission.

“Then you will work with the student assigned to you. However, if there is no improvement, or you truly can’t manage him, you will have the option to switch, or drop the program completely. Is this more reasonable?”

Hm. It would have to do. “Yes, sir. Thank you sir.”

Let it be known that Damian Wayne was not a quitter, and stubborn enough to move a mountain with a single word if he so chose. Jonathan Kent would be a changed student by the end of the year, if he had his way.

Jon Kent rolled into school at approximately 12:37 on a saturday morning, already fifteen minutes late to his tutoring session. It was absolute hell for those forcing him to go to even make him get dressed, and he was prepared to stall as long as possible. Hell, if he was lucky, the tutor would be pretty and he could score himself a ticket outta there with a wink and a few well timed smiles.

He entered the library, doing a quick once over, straightening his jacket and checking his eyeliner.

“Your studies are much more important than your appearance, Mr. Kent.” a voice drawled from behind him, and as he turned, a smirk came over his features.

Hello, Gorgeous.

The boy in front of him had delicately sharp features, striking green eyes framed by long lashes. His skin was a tantalizing carmel, clashing beautifully with the forest sleeves of his sweater.

“If you could remove your jaw from the floor, we should begin.”

He had a mouth on him too. Perfect.

“No name for me? Guess I'll just have to call you Beautiful.” Jon purred, the other boy’s face twisting in something that was definitely not a blush.

“It’s Damian. My name is Damian. We’re fifteen minutes behind already, if you could please take a seat.”

Jon sidled up to his side as they walked towards the table with a sheaf of papers.

“Damian, huh?” he tested the name out, rolling off his tongue pleasantly.

“Sounds familiar. Have we had a class together? I could swear we have chemistry .”

Damian looked torn between strangling Jon and strangling himself, settling only for a glare.

Jon was getting slightly annoyed. This guy was not taking the bait, and that was an excellent line for a nerd.

“ Sit. ” Damian pointed to the chair, Jon muttering ”Bossy.” under his breath.

“Let me make myself extremely clear, Jonathan, I have one job here, and that is to raise your grades. If I don't, it will not look good for me, and will look even worse for you. I’m not here for you to flirt with, make friends, or be stared at, nor roped into whatever it is you have going on here.” Damian gestured to his whole with a manilla folder in hand.

Well. If that wasn’t both flat out rejection and warning all at once, Jon'd be dammed. It hurt his pride slightly and added more fuel to the slowly building flame of annoyance.

“And what is this , exactly? Is that why you’re here? Teacher’s Pet turns the bad one into a brand-new man ?”

Damian snorted. “As if anyone could part you from your disastrous fashion and life choices. No, as I've stated, I'm here to make your grades better, by having you do all the work.”

“That’s a contradictory statement.”

“Would you look at that, you’re already using your big boy words.” He deadpanned, flipping open the folder to show Jon’s transcripts.

“Honestly, just looking at these makes me want to burn them. The only class you are currently passing is AP Physics, with an 89%.”

Huh, apparently he wasn’t completely dense.

“I can taste the approval, do good grades turn you on?” Jon taunted. “Must be so great, getting all the way to the top with only Daddy’s money.”

A dangerous scowl overtook his face and Jon quickly realized that was too far for today.

“For your information, Kent , not everyone has managed to stay in this school based on money and reputation alone, despite your clearly projected opinions. Now, should we get started, or do you have any more poorly based comments to share with the class?”

Jon glowered at both him and the papers, shaking his head once in a firm “No.”

“Good.” Damian’s smile was predatory in a way where he knew he had already won.

The other boy put up a stubborn fight when it came to learning, purposefully answering questions wrong and poking at Damian to watch him snap.There was a self-satisfied smirk when he did so, the older boy looking as if he wished to slap it off his face.

After the third or fourth time of this, Damian slammed the math book closed.

“Kent, I’d like to pride myself on endurance when it comes to annoyances, due to several older brothers and sisters. However, should this continue, I have no qualms about leaving you to repeat your next two years five times over.”

“Can’t handle the heat, get out of the oven.” Jon challenged.

Damian, to his annoyance, appeared unfazed. “I should be saying this to you, when a few years from now, you’ll still be here. Now, should I go, or will you at least look like you’re attempting to be competent?”

Pretty face, pretty form, ugly words.

Jon bit at his bottom lip, face turning into more of a petulant pout then a scowl. “Fine.”

What a child.

Damian made a dismissive ‘tt’ noise, and began the lesson again.

Two hours later, they emerged from the school, one with his pride flattened and brimming with emotions, and one with a folder and a smug smirk.

Jon spotted his elder brother Kon in the corner of the parking lot, perched on a motorcycle. He had a stupidly knowing grin on his face, causing Jon to scowl.

He swung a leg over the side and held onto his brother’s jacket.

“Next week, I expect you to be on time. Understood, Kent?” Damian tapped a pen to the large folder he held. He seemed completely undaunted by the fact that there was a motorcycle being driven by the school’s ex-local bad boy in front of him.

“Whatever.”

“Try again, Kent.”

Jon huffed. “Yes, I'll try to make it on time.”

“Good.” Damian flipped through the folder in front of him. “Your superiors will be pleased with these results. If you continue like this, we’ll be seeing a significant increase in your performance marks.”’

He nodded towards Kon as he closed the folder. “Have a pleasant evening, Connor. You as well, Jonathan.”

He walked away and the moment he was out of earshot, Kon pulled off his helmet and began to howl with laughter.

“Oh my God, you are whipped !”

“Shut the fuck up, Connor, I am not and I hate his guts! Self-righteous little brat .” Jon hissed.

“He has you wrapped around his finger! At this rate, he’ll have whipped you into shape by the end of the semester!” He wiped away tears of laughter, chuckling still.

“I will resist.” Jon scowled. “And you’re smudging your eyeliner.”

“Am not! Brat.” Kon then returned to his knowing smirk. “Bet five bucks you thought he was hot, tried to hit on him and he rejected you to high hell.”

Jon’s silence was proof enough, sending Kon into another fit of laughter.

“Those Wayne boys, Jonno. The way you were headed, I’m surprised fate’s taken this long to send one to you. First Wally, then Roy, then me, and now you.”

“I will continue where I'm headed, and no stupid, annoying, pot-stirring stuck up good boys with pretty eyes are going to change me. Now drive.”

He kicked his older brother’s leg, Kon pulling his helmet back on. “Whatever you say, superbrat. But when you come crying to me when you can’t get past their straight A’s no-time-for-feelings exterior, I’ll have a bigass ‘told you so’ waiting for ya.”

Jon glowered as the bike started up. “Well, you can save it, cause it won’t happen!”

“Can’t hear you!” Kon sing-songed over the roar of the bike.

“Asshole!”

41 notes · View notes

have-kake · 23 days

Text

Big Brother [3/3]

Three instances of big brother instincts within the chain. [Ao3 Link]

[Part 1: Wind] [Part 2: Twilight] [Part 3: Warriors]

The chain had been traveling aimlessly until a portal dumped them back in the middle of Hyrule field. Legend groans loudly at their surroundings. It feels like every time they decide to go to a town, a portal gets in their way.

"I think this is mine," Time says, a faint smile on his face.

Hyrule instantly perks up. "Does that mean we get to see Miss Malon again?"

Time grins at him. "If you don't mind the farm work."

Wind woops in response much to everyone's amusement.

"Welp, I guess it's settled," Wars says patting Time on the back "We're off to see the Missus again!"

Malon greets them all warmly. She spends time hugging each of them as she welcomes them home. She even introduces them to her father who's home this time. He's a portly old man with deep crows feet and laugh lines around his mouth. Much like Malon, he's able to instantly identify Twilight as a farmer.

Time tries to put them to work but quickly gets overruled by Malon and Talon. Wars won't admit it, but he's grateful for their intervention. Farm work is hard. Last time, he felt muscles he didn't even know he had ache!

Some of the group still insist on working, though. Twilight bullies his way into helping Malon clean the cow stables. Sky is more than happy to herd cuccos. And Four finds his way to the farrier.

Wars grins as Time shuffles around the house for a few minutes. He's completely changed out of his armor into stiffer clothes. "Heading out to help too?" Wars asks.

Time pauses in his search to look up at him. "Hm? Yeah. I'm gonna help Talon weed the crops."

Wars' grin widens. He glances around making sure the others aren't around. "You know," he starts off innocently. He tries not to laugh at the look Time gives him. "I'm glad I finally get to meet my little brother's old man. He must have a well of Patience greater than the expanses of time itself to deal with you."

"Just because I've told him about you doesn't mean he believes it."

"Malon believed you. Besides, it won't be too hard to convince him."

"You're going to be insufferable aren't you?" Time asks drily.

"Oh, absolutely," Wars replies without hesitation. "It's only fair."

The weary sigh of defeat he gets is music to his ears.

Wars sits on the porch as Wind, Hyrule, and Wild all run around in circles. He won't pretend to know what game they're playing, but it's nice to see them relax.

"Aren't there nine of you boys?"

He smiles at Talon as the old man takes a seat in the other chair. "Legend's inside taking a nap," he says. "He gets cranky when we're on the road for too long."

Talon laughs. "I'd've thought a Hero would be used to the road."

Wars startles. He knows Time tells Malon everything and she believes him, but he made it seem like Talon never did. It's jarring to hear him speak with the same candidness Malon does, but Wars is glad Time has people he can talk to. "Legend's been through more adventures than any of us," he explains. "All in just a handful of years... He deserves the rest."

"You boys are all so young," Talon says quietly.

Wind shrieks in delight when Hyrule picks him up and tosses him to Wild. Hyrule's accompanying laughter is carefree, and even Wild's smile is easier than usual.

Mask was bitter when he first stepped through the portal. It had nothing to do with the horrors of war. He was already haunted by pain and loss long before he ever set foot in Wars' era. He was so young; about the same age as Wind at the time. Yet the two are as different as night and day.

Sensing his mood, Talon starts to get up. "What d'you say to helping me get started on dinner, boy?"

Wars follows him with a quiet chuckle. "I know an order when I hear one, sir," he grins, "but fair warning: I'm a terrible cook."

He's surprised by how well Talon directs him around the kitchen. It's not the ease with which Time and Malon function with each other, or the ease Wild finds in any kitchen. But it's nice.

Time enters some time later and pauses at the sight of them. He raises a single eyebrow when Wars spots him.

Wars shrugs in response.

"What happened to letting the boys rest?" Time asks.

"I know a man in need of a distraction when I see one," Talon responds plainly. "See if you can't go help Malon and your boy. Dinner'll be done in an hour."

Time narrows his eyes at the two. Wars gives him a cheeky grin and Time scowls. They're not planning anything, but Time doesn't have to know that.

Talon chuckles at their exchange. "He keeps doing stuff like that, and I'll have to believe him."

"Oh?"

Talon claps him on the back. "I know what brothers tormenting each other looks like."

Wars laughs. "I need to get payback somehow."

"So you really knew him when he was a kid?"

"Only for about three years, but yes."

Talon hesitates for a moment. Wars is instantly on guard. "Has he always been vague about his answers?"

"What do you mean?" He asks carefully.

"Like if you ask him the things he's fought."

Wars instantly relaxes. "Lemme guess," he says drily. "The moon."

Talon nods with a tired look. "He won't explain it either."

"I know what you mean," he sighs. "When he first showed up in my world and demanded to fight, we asked him what the biggest thing he fought was and he said the moon. So we asked him what he meant. And guess what he does?"

Talon points up.

"Yes!" He raises his arm straight up and points. He does his best impression of Mask's scowling face, and with a patronizing voice he says, "I mean the moon! What's so hard to understand about that? If you don't get something as easy as that, why are you even in charge?"

Talon howls with laughter.

"So a few weeks ago I ask him the same thing. Y'know, to see if his answer's changed." Wars grins. "Hey Old Man, what's the biggest thing you ever fought?"

"The– oh ho," Talon wheezes between laughs. "The moon!"

"The moon!" Wars crows. "And he still refuses to elaborate!"

Dinner prep continues on for almost another hour. Wars knew that making food for so many people was a process, but he never realized how intensive it was. He's more than a little frayed by the time they finish. Talon pats him on the back approvingly, and the looks on the others faces is more than worth it.

He spends a little time watching the others as they settle down to eat. Time and Twilight sit on either side of Malon. Wind takes a seat next to Talon and makes easy conversation with the old man.

Wind really is a kid of many talents. He handles a grumpy Legend with the grace of a practiced brother while falling for his bait in equal measures. Yet he's able to hold long and easy conversations with adults and the elderly.

Wars is glad his adventures don't weigh him down. At least, he hopes they don't and Wind isn't just hiding the pain.

"You okay, Cap?" Twilight asks.

"Yeah. Just thinking of the little brother I had for a second."

Twilight and those closest to them grow quiet. "Sorry."

Wars raises an eyebrow before laughing loudly. "It's nothing like that!" He assures to all the sad faces. "It's just what he became to me. He was sent home when all was said and done. I do still miss him to this day, though," he sighs with a hand on his chest. He grins at the way Time snorts.

Wind lets out a loud sound of disappointment from across the table. "Does that mean I'll never get to meet him?"

Sometimes Wars forgets Wind spent a few weeks in his war. It was so late into the fighting, the war was practically over. That and he was far from the main fighting, usually just holding the far lines from any advances. It's just as important for holding the army together as the main lines, but fairly uneventful by the time Wind got there. He's still kicking himself for not making the time to go meet him properly back then.

"Count yourself lucky," Wars teases. "I love him, but he was an absolute menace."

Legend snorts. "Can't be that bad."

"Two words," he says making eye contact with Time. "Mask Duty."

Wind chokes on his juice. After he gets his coughing in control he all but shouts, "Mask was your little brother?!”

He's taken aback by the response. "Yeah?"

Wind scrambles to pull his sleeve back and hold up his forearm. "He bit me!"

Wars' jaw drops.

Talon and Hyrule lean over to get a better look.

Wars turns to Time who's studiously picking at his plate. He rubs a hand over his face with a groan. "Great Three, please have mercy on me. Is that why I was stuck on stable duty for almost two months?"

The others snicker at him.Time uses the noise to mutter a quiet, "No," but Wars knows that tone. It absolutely was his fault.

With a long dramatic sigh, Wars uses his melodramatic voice, as Mask liked to call it. He likes to call it his tired older brother voice. "Wind, on behalf of my little brother, I apologize for his horrible behavior. I ask you find it in your heart to forgive him."

Time glares at him but he has practice ignoring that particular look.

Twilight whistles lowly. "That sounds practiced. How often did he get in trouble?"

Wars resists the urge to smirk. "More times than I can count," he sighs sadly. "But I'm sure you'd all rather hear something else."

Just as expected, the table explodes into commotion. He sends a smirk Time's way and nearly cracks. Time's scowl has turned into a full on pout. Suddenly Wars finds himself look at Mask like he's been caught sneaking into the stables for the third time that week and not an adult ten years his senior with a wife.

"Okay, okay," Wars laughs. "I'll tell you a few stories."

He tells them of the first time Mask appeared on the field and the absolute mayhem it caused. A good portion of the soldiers had their attention split between halting the enemy Lieutenant and keeping the literal child safe. Not that Mask made it easier. He refused to be pulled off the field and even broke the hand of one of the soldiers trying to hold him back.

Wars tells them of the way his heart leapt into his throat when Mask rushed forward. A tiny child with a sword too big to properly carry rushing at a monster three times his size! Only for the little boy to swing the the massive claymore and slice the monster in two.

They still tried to bench Mask after that, of course. No one felt comfortable putting a child in the front lines despite his clear skill. That didn't matter to Mask, though.

It was a particularly hard battle and they were loosing. Impa was out for the count and Wars wasn't advancing fast enough. They would've lost—died—if Mask hadn't jumped in with all the unpredictability of a storm.

"You should have seen the way he yelled at us!" He wheezes. "I've never seen Impa or Artemis make faces like that before. He got his wish, though, and he was put in the main lines."

Malon giggles. "My, he seems like quite the spirited young man." Her eyes shine with mirth as Time's shoulders hike up in embarrassment.

"And very protective of the people around him," he nods. "For as much trouble as he caused, as much as he yelled and terrorized everyone, he loved the people around him."

Sky coos at the story. "He was probably so sweet in private."

Wars laughs. "Hardly! You just had to learn how he showed affection."

Hyrule winces. "Oh gosh, how bad?"

"So a lot of the soldiers didn't like we let a kid in the field right," he says, "so they started acting up. They'd question orders, disregard plans, speak I'll of her Majesty. Mask would absolutely terrorize the poor souls. I'd almost feel bad if they didn't deserve it."

"Wait, so how did Mask Duty start?" Wind asks.

"Mostly from that. Soldiers who questioned Artemis about Mask's presence ended up with the kid in their squads. That eventually evolved to a punishment for any serious offenses."

Wind cackles, surely remembering the fearful whispers of Mask Duty among the troops.

"Surely he wasn't a menace the whole time?" Sky winces.

"Well yeah, he was still a kid," Wars shrugs. "Show him something cool and he'll play with it for days. And he loved slight of hand tricks! He'd even pull on my scarf to get my attention. I'm not paying attention to him, he'll yank until I do. I'm spending too much time trying the perfect a strategy, and he'll yank on my scarf until I stop. I skip a meal, and he yanks until I get something to eat. He has a nightmare and instead of just waking me up, he drops all his weight on to my stomach."

He's completely lost in thought by this point. At the time, Mask had seemed to be constantly harassing him, but the years have given him perspective. Mask was just making sure they didn't crumble under the weight of responsibility.

"There was one particular battle that went horribly. Our forces were decimated. We barely escaped with our lives. Zelda completely closed herself off from everyone," he says quietly. "Not even Impa could get to her. Those were some dark days... But then one day laughter breaks through the silence. Mask had gotten Zelda to leave her tent. She was pale and her eyes red from crying, but she was playing in the mud with him."

He chuckles feeling the sudden tightness in his throat. "I think we'd all forgotten what joy was at that point. For as much trouble as he caused, Mask reminded us all there was still hope."

There's a tug on his scarf and Wars automatically looks down before remembering he has to look up now. Time's face is concerned as he looks him over. "You okay?"

Wars smiles. He pushes back the memories and ruffles Time's hair. "I'm fine, Sprite. Don't worry about it."

The table explodes into a mess of shouts and questions. Wars startles so bad he bangs his knee on the underside of the table.

"You bit me!" Wind accuses.

Time sputters, face pink with embarrassment. He looks to Wars for help.

Wars shrugs. "I told you you'd face the consequences of your actions one day." Time looks so panicked at the prospect that Wars caves immediately.

He helps Time field as many questions and accusations as he can. Eventually the others calm down. Though they spend the rest of the evening muttering amongst themselves and taking turns looking at Wind's bite mark.

Wars shakes his head as Twilight looks at the mark for the third time. "I can believe you bit him."

Time crosses his arms defensively. "He tried to take my Keaton mask."

"That's not an excuse to bite someone!"

Time looks away with a huff.

Wars laughs. He throws an arm around Time's neck and drags the man down at an uncomfortable angle. "Spirits, you've chilled out, but you're still the same little shit I knew," he says fondly. "I can't believe it took me so long to recognize you."

Time growls and yanks on his scarf in annoyance. Wars smirks at the feeling. It's the same way he used try to choke Wars when he was younger.

With practiced ease, and no longer having to hold back against a little kid, Wars wrestles Time to the floor. He grins triumphantly from where he sits on Time's back. "You're gonna have to try harder than that, Sprite," he teases. "Maybe I can give you some pointers."

Time deflates, seemingly accepting his fate.

"I can't believe he's a younger brother," Legend mutters with a frown.

Twilight stands next to him with a truly horrified expression.

Wind nods, seemingly unbothered by Twilight's unresponsiveness. "It almost makes too much sense."

"You're a terrible person," Time mutters.

Wars pats him on the head. "I know."

#linked universe #linked universe fanfic #linked universe fic #lu warriors #lu time #Again. Looking back at this there's a lot of details I would change #Not entirely happy w/ Mask's portrayal but it's not as egregious as it could've been lol #You can tell I wrote this before I unlocked Young Link in Hyrule Warriors. Kid is so damn happy and smiley in the game lolll

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lewmagoo · 2 years

Text

of angels and darlings | b.bradshaw, r.floyd

description: in which bradley bradshaw is wholly and completely in control

warnings: 18+, m/m/f threesome, dom!rooster, sub!bob, poly relationship, orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, oral (m receiving), choking, blindfolds

pairings: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/robert "bob" floyd/nondescript fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

notes: listen up hoes (affectionate). this is entirely self indulgent. i just wanted some nasty threesome smut and this is what came out. maybe i just wanted an excuse to write rooster kissing a boy. sue me. this also recycled from an old work of mine, so yet again, i've plagiarized myself. anyway! i hope you enjoy yourselves

He had her right where he wanted her.

Spread open, exposed and vulnerable, the light catching on her skin in such a way that she appeared to be glowing. And maybe she was. He'd always called her his angel, after all. Maybe she truly did possess a heavenly glow.

In fact, in that very moment, she did feel heavenly, with the two men she loved and trusted most gazing upon her like she was a rare treasure they'd just discovered. And as far as they were concerned, that was exactly what she was.

Bradley was the first to break the silence. He slid a hand delicately down Bob's spine, and the man shivered slightly, leaning into his touch.

"Look at her, Bobby. Doesn't she look good enough to eat?" He spoke, smooth as silk.

"Yes," Bob breathed, eyes fluttering beneath his glasses.

Bradley smiled knowingly, as if he had a secret he wasn’t willing to share with the class. "Wanna taste her?"

Bob had been waiting for this moment all day. "Please."

"Then, by all means, go ahead."

He didn't have to tell Bob twice. In one swift movement, he was joining her on the bed, moving to hover over her naked form. He leaned down to kiss her lips desperately, tongue delving into her mouth. The kiss made her head spin, and when he pulled away, she was gasping, watching as he began his descent, kissing and suckling at her soft chest before moving down, down, down. Down between the meeting of her thighs, where it was warm and wet and ready for him to taste.

His fingers delicately spread her open, and he blew cool air against her center, which sent her shivering and moaning ever so softly. Then he began to tease her, swirling his tongue everywhere but that little button of nerves. It was maddening.

"Are you getting frustrated, little darlin’?" Bradley questioned, moving to sit beside her on the bed.

"Yes sir. M-my pussy is so wet, you've been teasing me for so long."

"Have I?" Umber eyes filled with mischief.

"Yes!" She exclaimed. It was true. He'd been working her up for nearly an hour before Bob had even arrived home that evening. She’d been spread open and teased endlessly, both with a vibrator and his fingers. When Bob had gotten home that evening, he'd found her in this state, entirely bare against the bed, pussy glistening in the low light. It was quite the sight to come home to.

It wasn't unheard of, though, to come home to such a sight. He'd walked in on this scene many a time, and he loved it. It sent a thrill through his bloodstream. And when he did happen upon such a thing, he knew what to do by now. Undress and join the both of them. After all, that was What Bradley had instructed him to do.

Bradley was, more often than not, the one in charge. It was how both she and Bob preferred it. The blue-eyed lieutenant enjoyed relinquishing all control, and he relished in being taken care of and pushed around a little. Bradley just so happened to be the best candidate for the job.

When Bob had joined their dynamic, he wasn’t entirely sure how he would fit in. He thought he would feel like he was intruding, or witnessing something he wasn’t supposed to see. But the two had welcomed him with open arms and made him feel so at ease. Somehow, it all just worked, and Bob loved being part of it.

And now here he was, between her legs, all the stressors of the day melting away in the presence of his lovers. He gazed up at her, with her head against Bradley's chest and her desperate eyes pleading with him to stop teasing her. That was it for Bob. He had the power to alleviate her overwhelming desire, and that was just what he did. He dove right in, sucking her clit into his mouth and devouring her like his life depended on it. She gasped, body jolting at the unexpected fervor with which he worked.

"Slow down, Bobby," Bradley drawled, "she's not going anywhere. Just enjoy it, worship that sweet pussy like she deserves."

Bob hummed against her, slowing down only slightly. All the while, Bradley slid his hand up over her stomach, towards her breasts, where he began to circle his fingers over each nipple, only heightening her pleasure.

"How does it feel, little mama?" He asked, breath warm against her skin.

She moaned softly, shifting her hips so she could grind against Bob's mouth. "S-so good."

"Is that all?" He wanted her to use her words.

"I-it feels incredible,” she continued, using more colorful descriptors, “I...fuck, Bobby, your mouth feels so good."

Bob moaned against her, the praise driving him to pleasure her with even more fervor, bringing his fingers into the mix. He slipped his ring and middle fingers into her cunt, easily finding that particular spot inside her that made her toes curl. He matched the rhythm of his fingers with his tongue, trailing it over her clit repeatedly, sending jolt after jolt of delicious pleasure through her body.

She reached down, threading her fingers through his hair. When she tugged at the roots, he groaned from deep within his chest, eyes shifting to burn into her own as she gazed down at him.

"You taste so good," he rasped, pulling away for just a moment, lips and chin glistening with her arousal. His cheeks were pink, both from the exertion, and from arousal. Then, he gazed at Bradley, seeking his permission. "May I make her come?"

But the man beside her shook his head, slipping away from her and rising to stand. He was still clothed - halfway, at least, with sweatpants hanging low on his defined hips, and no shirt in sight which displayed his sculpted torso. He approached Bob, wordlessly pulling him to stand. Bob was nearly the same height as the man before him, but watching their exchange, and the way Bob sort of shrank into a state of utter submission before Bradley, he seemed much smaller.

Bradley tugged Bob closer, kissing him fiercely and tasting her pussy on his mouth. When he pulled away, Bob's eyes were blown with lust, darkened to a stormy blue, and he looked entirely fucked out, despite the fact that this was only just beginning. "I want you to fuck her pretty little pussy," Bradley stated, sliding his hand across Bob's bare chest, and down further still, to take ahold of his already hard cock, at which Bob whimpered and leaned into his touch. "But, I have something for you both, first."

And then he pulled away from Bob, leaving him to grit his teeth as his dick pulsed against the air at the lack of contact. Bradley sauntered across the room, opening the top dresser drawer and retrieving two objects that neither of them could make out before he returned. In his hands were two black blindfolds. He smiled, looking from his sweet girl on the bed, to Bob. "You're going to fuck each other, but you're not going to be able to see during it."

Her stomach fluttered in anticipation. She'd done this before and had found that she quite enjoyed it. Bob, on the other hand, wasn't as crazy about it. Yes, his other senses were heightened without sight, and everything was more intense and pleasurable. But he liked to see what was going on. Nonetheless, he cooperated, because he trusted Bradley.

"On your hands and knees, little darlin’," Bradley instructed, and she obeyed, shifting so she was in position. Then he tied the blindfold in place, taking away her sight entirely. Bob was next, climbing onto the bed behind her and waiting while Bradley oh so carefully removed his glasses and tied the blindfold in place. A comforting hand was pressed against Bob’s back, and the other man’s mouth was against his ear as he said, “you alright?”

“Yes sir,” Bob sighed out.

Bradley stepped back then, though he stayed right near the bed, wanting to be completely involved. Both of them awaited his next instructions, knowing not to act too soon, lest they be reprimanded.

"Go ahead, Bob," he spoke, "slip inside her."

He didn't hesitate to comply. Bob reached down, sliding his fingers between her legs until he found her slick opening. He gently massaged her clit a moment and gathered some of her wetness on his palm to act as lubricant before he began to stroke himself. Then, in one swift movement, he was entering her, stretching her so deliciously, a momentary burn from the feeling coming to life between her thighs.

She gasped, back arching as Bob grunted above her, shuddering at the initial clench of her muscles around him. He gently placed his hands upon her hips, and slowly began moving, rolling his hips slightly at first before he picked up the pace. Her fingers and toes curled at the feeling, and she moaned lowly. It was ridiculous how turned on she was, but she couldn't help it. She was certain she wasn’t going to last long, after being worked up for over an hour. Whether or not Bradley would allow her to come was up for debate though.

The aforementioned watched through hazy eyes at the sight of both his lovers. The way Bob looked, rutting into her, lean muscle flexing beneath milky skin, reddened lips parted to let out soft gasps and grunts. The way she looked, entirely bare, willing to do absolutely anything for both of her boys, back arched and mouth open. He felt his cock throb in the confines of his pants, his arousal growing all the more.

Bradley sauntered over to stand behind Bob, and he began sliding his hand up over his stomach, his chest, and up to his throat, where he gripped tightly. "Look at her, Bob. Look how desperate she is for you, how she'll do anything for you. Go on, fuck her. Make her scream for you," he growled into his ear. He trailed his tongue over Bob's skin, swirling it just beneath his ear as he tightened his grip around his throat even more so. The harshness of his mustahce nipped at his skin, and Bob shuddered at the feeling, a flood of heady arousal blossoming through him.

He obeyed, setting a more intense pace, hips slamming against hers. She cried out, clawing at the bed sheets. "F-fuck, Bobby!" She gasped, eyes rolling back. He was hitting that spot again, bumping repeatedly into the little gathering of nerves within her, which sent her clenching so tightly around him he could hardly move.

"Oh, oh my gosh," Bob lowly moaned, slowing down just a little and shivering at the feeling. "You're gonna make me come too soon."

Bradley had released his throat at that point, but he was still behind him. "That's a shame, Bobby boy, because if you dare come without my say-so, I'll spank this pretty ass so hard you won't be able to sit down for a week," he lowly uttered, causing Bob to slow his movements only slightly at the threat. "And I know you want to be a good boy for me, don't you?" Deft fingers slid over protruding collarbones, and Bob shuddered.

"Yes sir," he rasped, hands tightening on her hips as he tried to contain himself.

"Good. Now, go ahead. Do just like I told you - make her scream."

Again, Bob sped up, and soon, he was all but slamming into her, jarring her entire body, and all she could do was lay there and take it, mouth hanging open as she moaned and gasped and whimpered, surely a sight to behold.

Bradley rounded the bed, much like a feline sneaking up on its prey. He bent down, smile on his lips, though she couldn't see it. He ran his hand along her shoulder, and suddenly, he was pulling her up by her hair. "Scream, little mama. I want to hear how good he's making you feel."

And at that, Bob offered a particularly sharp thrust, and she did scream, the sound coming from somewhere deep within her. Bradley's smile grew to a Cheshire grin then, satisfied. "There she is, there's my good girl." She thrived on the praise, and he knew it.

She was trembling, and it only grew worse when Bob snaked his hand down between her legs and began stimulating her with his fingers. She couldn't speak. Any words she tried to utter died in her throat, drowned out by the continuous moans that she couldn't seem to hold back.

She was dripping, he could feel it. Slick arousal trailing down his cock and down his inner thighs. The sound of her wetness was entirely audible, and that, mingled with the sounds of their moans, was so incredibly erotic. Her skin was hot and her head was spinning. It was nearly too much, and not enough all at once.

Bob slowed down a little, hips stuttering as she clenched tightly around him again. He almost let go then. He couldn't help it, she was so wonderfully tight and wet and it was all so intense. He moaned, though it came out broken and hoarse, and he began to grind into her, nearly succumbing to that heat of impending orgasm

Bradley was there in the blink of an eye, speaking harshly. "Stop. Don't you dare move."

"Oh!" Bob breathlessly whined, falling forward and letting out a frustrated growl that sounded more like a deep whimper as he buried his face in her neck. "I don't know if I can-"

"You can, and you will. Because you're a good boy, aren't you?"

When Bob didn't answer, Bradley grabbed ahold of his hair, yanking him back and pushing the blindfold back so he could look him in the eye. "Answer me."

"Y-yes sir, I am."

"Well then, act like it." And then he pulled the blindfold back into place.

Bob took a shaky breath before he finally began moving again, thrusting even slower this time, trying to stave off the inevitable. In the meantime, Bradley brought his hand down between her legs after he'd settled back on the bed, and he began languidly circling her swollen clit. She turned her head in his direction, moaning pitifully.

"What is it? Are you close, baby?" Bradley’s tone was taunting.

"Mhm," she whined.

"Too bad."

This went on for several more minutes. He edged them both until they were panting, sweaty, fucked out messes. Until they were entirely sure they couldn't hold on any longer. It was there, she could feel it. Swirling to life deep within her body, a coil just waiting to come unraveled. And Bob wasn't much better off. His dick was pulsing within her, and he was afraid that if he moved again, he'd be done for.

Finally, it was over. Or so they thought. "Alright," Bradley spoke, rising to stand again, "that's enough." And then he was tugging the blindfolds off. He said something in Bob’s ear, which she couldn’t make out, and that prompted him to slip out of her, and her fatigued limbs gave way, causing her to collapse onto the mattress.

Bradley gently grabbed Bob's face, fingers stroking the blushing skin before he ducked forward to kiss him hard. "Rest for a minute, baby," he whispered, before he moved to attend to their girl. Gently, he helped her turn over onto her back, and he smiled down at her. "There you go. Deep breaths, little mama."

She nodded, eyes fluttering shut as she took several deep breaths, calming herself down. He kissed her forehead, and then gave her a few minutes to rest and recollect herself. But that ache was still throbbing between her thighs, and she was so worked up that she was certain she'd come right then and there if he so much as brushed against her bundle of nerves.

Bob settled down beside her, arm slung over her waist as he leaned in to kiss her before letting his head rest upon the softness of her breast. Bradley soon joined them both, keeping his movements slow and gentle. His features had softened, and there was a loving glint in his eyes. As commanding as he was, he still loved them both very much, and took good care of them.

He'd since discarded his sweats, and was now bare against her. She could feel his hardness, and it sparked a new wave of arousal within her. She wanted him inside her. Bradley noticed her demeanor shift, and he smiled as he gazed down at her, watching her squirm.

"What is it, baby?"

"I...I want you to fuck me."

He raised a brow. "Oh really? And where do you want me, hm? In your mouth, or your pussy?" Though he knew the answer, he asked anyway.

"My pussy." She whispered the last word, hiding her face against him at the vulgarity of it.

"A little louder. Where do you want me?" He pressed, and she sighed, pulling back to respond.

"My pussy!"

"Alright then," he simply said, already moving to kneel against the mattress. He got her situated on her back, making sure her head was comfortable against the pillows. He looked at Bob as he spoke again. "You're going to take Bob in your mouth while I'm inside you. Look at him, little darlin’. Look how hard he is.” She did, her eyes falling upon his twitching cock. “I want you to make him come down that pretty throat of yours. If you're a good girl and do that for me, then I'll fill you right up with my own cum," he promised. And he always made good on his promises.

She let out a breath as he spread her apart, revealing her aching, soaked center. With a hum, he trailed his fingers over her swollen lips. "Shit, Bob, you really did a number on her," he spoke. "Bet it won't take long at all for her to fall apart."

He shoved a couple fingers inside her before he finally thrust his dick inside, allowing her wet warmth to swallow him to the hilt. He hissed softly while she squealed, only to be silenced by Bob's cock sliding into her mouth. She moaned around it, welcoming the intrusion.

Between her thighs, Bradley was taking his sweet time, pulling her legs around his waist, making sure he was filling her completely. Then, he began moving. Slow, deliberate thrusts that had her eyes rolling back, moans muffled around Bob.

The aforementioned began thrusting into her mouth, matching the rhythm that Bradley had started. It was so incredibly overwhelming, and she couldn't do anything else but take what they gave her. Through hooded eyes, she watched as Bradley reached forward, grabbing Bob by the back of the neck and pulling him closer, close enough to bring their lips together, kissing him with fervor.

Bob moaned into his mouth, momentarily stilling his hips as he relished in the feeling of his lover's kiss. In the meantime, she reached a trembling hand up, taking hold of Bob's balls, at which he whimpered pitifully against Bradley's mouth.

Bradley pulled back with a grin. "You're not going to last, are you?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.

"No sir," Bob gritted out, deciding to try his luck again as he began to beg, "please...please let me come."

Bradley smiled again, smug and vaguely wicked. "Not yet," he whispered, eyeing Bob's flushed face, eyes blown, hair mussed, lips swollen. He was a sight to behold, and Bradley was reveling in the control he had over him. Seeing Bob so...undone sent a thrill through his bones.

Bob let out a moan of frustration, pulling back a little. He grabbed her hand, pausing her ministrations. "You keep doing that, I’ll come," he feebly insisted. Then, in a more biting tone, "since Bradley won't let me fucking come."

It was rare that Bob swore, but when he did, there was meaning behind it. This time, the comment earned him a warning tap on his flushed cheek. "Watch your mouth," Bradley gnarled, brown eyes aflame.

Beneath them, she pulled her mouth away from Bob for a moment to catch her breath. Her hand wrapped around his shaft in place of her mouth, lazily stroking him as she struggled to keep her composure. Bradley changed his pace, speeding up a little.

He smiled down at her exhausted form. A genuine, reassuring smile. "You're being such a good little girl for me," he praised, ducking down to kiss her lips, which tasted of Bob. And then, his fingers were at her clit again, and she whimpered against his mouth.

Then he straightened, allowing Bob to slip back into her mouth. She was worked to her breaking point, and then brought back all over again. She throbbed and clenched around him, and could hardly focus on pleasuring Bob. She pulled back, squeezing her eyes shut as she willed yourself not to tip over that edge just yet. She had to wait for permission.

Bradley, too, could feel the molten heat of that impending release begin to pool within him. He got off on controlling her and Bob, and the thrill of doing so brought him closer and closer by the minute. Again, he yanked Bob close, offering a bruising kiss and moaning into his mouth. "Go ahead," he gasped, "come for me." And then he bit down on Bob's bottom lip, hard enough to bruise.

A shudder ran through Bob's very core, and he lowly moaned, "I'm...I'm coming."

Moments later, he was thrusting into her mouth one last time, dick pulsing as his release spilled down her throat. Despite her exhaustion, you swallowed every last drop, knowing this meant that she, too, was going to be allowed a release.

Slowly, Bob pulled out of her mouth, still catching his breath, chest heaving as he fought to do so. Bradley took over, frame hulking over her, fingers moving in rough, quick strokes. Her back was arching off the bed, and she looked up at him with wide eyes, trying to ask permission, but all that came out were pitiful squeaks. Bradley waited until he was nearly there before he spoke the words she'd been waiting for. "Come for me, little mama."

And she did. With a cry, she succumbed to that wave of insurmountable pleasure, her entire body trembling beneath him, hips bucking against his. It seared through her with such ferocity, and Bradley growled at the feeling of her soaking him with the very essence of her orgasm.

Slowly but surely, she came down from the intensity, falling still against the mattress as she struggled to regain her composure. Bradley didn't let up. He continued to work her over until she was begging him to stop, clawing for something, anything, to hold onto as her body was overstimulated. She found Bob's hand then, and she clutched onto it. He watched her, the way she writhed and shuddered, and he watched Bradley, the way he so sensually thrust into her, cock disappearing into that hot, wet heat each time.

And then, he let go, head thrown back in ecstasy as his orgasm flooded his senses. He was so beautiful this way, succumbing to the raw pleasure. He looked...angelic.

She took in the feeling of his cum seeping into her very core, a feeling she'd never tire of. Soon, he fell forward onto her, though he made sure to hold most of his weight with his arms so he wasn't crushing her. He praised her endlessly, and finally pulled out of her. Then he spread her legs, eyes falling to the mess he’d made of her pussy.

"Come watch, Bobby,” he encouraged the other man, and he let his gaze fall where Bradley’s was, a blush creeping to his cheeks. Then, Bradley said, “Push my cum out, little darlin’," and she obeyed, shuddering at the feeling of that warmth dripping out of her.

With a soft smile, he came down to kiss her. "Good girl." He made certain to praise Bob as well, as he always did, giving equal love, care, and attention to both of his darlings.

He reached up to brush his fingers over Bob's cheek. "Let's get you both cleaned up, okay?"

And so it began. Bradley took the time to clean them up, gently and deliberately. He lifted a spent Bob into his arms and carried him to the bathroom, where he gently encouraged him to wait while he went to gather their girl. Soon, Bradley came in with her, and the three of them took a long, hot shower. She was so sleepy by the time it was all said and done that she hardly noticed him drying both her and Bob with soft towels. Bradley even took the time to help them into comfortable clothes, attentive to their every need.

By the time it was said and done, both she and Bob were floating, soft and warm and content as Bradley helped them both into bed. The three of them settled in for the night, wrapped around one another.

She drifted off to the feeling of Bob's arms around her, a whisper of a kiss lingering on her shoulder as he settled against her, and the feeling of Bradley's strong chest pressed against her back, face nuzzled against her neck. Safe, serene, and loved beyond measure.

@halfway-happyyy @natasharomanoffisbaebby @oliviabelova @robertbobfloydlover @supernaturaldawning @marrianena @mys2425 @n3ssm0nique @ice-mans-world @lovemesomevesey @straightforwardly @mochi-de-bisou @christinafaucher @emmmaturtle @fantasias-creativebubble @worldmadeofmemories @tarohemianrocketmanapsody @m0chac0ffee @not-leaprvt @i-simp-much @soaharleys @colorfultyrantearthquake @obxsuperfan07 @juniebugg @marchingicenotes7 @airedale17 @jamiedontbeacracko @monosjoons @dilfsandtherapy @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @unluckymonaghan @utterly-in-like @chxosunbound @thesewordsareallihavetogive @unordinare @currentlybradshaw @elevens-strangerthing @the-hottest-lieutenants @glodessa @roostersmustache

#bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd smut #rooster bradshaw x reader

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silverskull · 10 months

Text

Forget and Forgive

Chenford Week 2023 Day 6: Get Creative Day Chenford + Why Lucy didn't tell Tim about the detective's exam (5x19)

Disclaimer - this was originally going to be my free day fic, but I much prefer the other one I wrote, so I'm leaving it for the end. This fic fought me a bit, so I'm looking forward to tomorrow a bit more. But it will also be the end of ChenfordWeek and I don't know how I'm gonna cope...

(Also! If you're looking for Tim's Metro plot from this epsiode, I highly recommend checking out quesera's I had a feeling so peculiar to fill in the gaps!)

Full fic below the cut, or here on AO3.

Nyla had the uncanny stealth of a snow leopard.

“You thinking of taking the detectives exam?”

Lucy nearly leapt out of her chair, her hand jerking the mouse so fast that she accidentally closed all her tabs.

She was sitting at a desk in the bullpen, ostensibly creating suspect profiles for a case she was working with Aaron, but then her email had dinged, luring her in with the subject line, and she’d ended up blithely tripping down a rabbit hole of test questions and interview advice and completely forgetting where she was. She turned to Nyla with a sheepish smile.

“I mean, I guess. I know it’s a bit far ahead of me yet - when I’m not even P3-”

“Don’t knock yourself down, Chen.” Nyla grabbed a nearby chair with her foot, dropping into it and rolling over to Lucy. “There’s plenty less-eligible candidates than you applying. Why not give them a run for their money?” She grinned, still cat-like, and Lucy felt a small shiver of pride.

“You really think I should do it?” she asked, turning to the monitor and clicking open her email again.

“What does it matter what I think? You’re damn capable, and there’s no one here with experience like yours. You know what you bring to the table.” Nyla swivelled from side to side in her chair, her face serene, but a bite to her words. She was analysing Lucy, gaging her response with a steady eye. It gave Lucy courage. She nodded firmly and clicked the ‘Reply’ button.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” The form was just an expression of interest. If she wasn’t qualified, she’d find out soon enough. Besides, she knew she was a good cop. Tim Bradford, of all people, had admitted as much.

“I know what I bring to the table.”

She’d muttered the last words under her breath, and she was soon lost in the details of the form, missing Nyla’s satisfied nod as she slid out of the chair and went on her way.

Lucy couldn’t wait to tell Tim.

***

“Chen! Hey, Chen!”

Lucy spun in place, not recognising the voice in the corridor at first.

Tim had just left for another meeting with his squad, squeezing her arm gently as they parted ways, and her mind was still daydreaming of the meal he’d promised her if they caught the guy - sushi at the marina, followed by ice-cream and cotton candy on the pier. It felt as if that candy had coated her brain, sugar-pink strands hazing her focus, and it took a second for her to recognise Carradine, waving for her attention from the other end of the hall.

“Oh, Detective! Sorry, I was… I…” She raised her coffee cup in greeting, coming up with no more plausible excuse in the moment. “I needed my caffeine hit. Sorry.”

Carradine snorted, shaking his own empty tumbler in his fist. “The price of the job, I’m afraid.” He gestured for her to follow him back into the break-room, making a beeline for the coffee maker. “This new machine is the business though. Pure rocket fuel.”

There was a moment of silence while the machine whirred and hissed into life, coffee-scented steam wafting enticingly through the room. Lucy shifted on her feet, waiting impatiently while Carradine sniffed and sipped his drink slowly, closing his eyes and savouring the first mouthful.

“So, ah… Is there something I can do for you, sir?” she asked, reluctant to intrude on his peace, but anxious to know what he wanted.

“Ah, yes, right.” Carradine twisted the lid tightly onto his mug, snapping the cover closed and looking at Lucy appraisingly. “You applied to be considered for the detective’s exam.”

She responded slowly, her eyes glancing nervously around the room. “I did, yes, sir.”

Carradine nodded thoughtfully, inspecting the top of his mug before he answered.

“You’ve got an impressive UC portfolio under your belt. Bradford gave you the highest marks I’ve ever seen from one of his rookies. Grey is forever singing your praises.” He looked back up at her suddenly, his gaze steady. “I think you should go for it. Consider this your tap.”

He nodded once more, then strode briskly past her and out of the room.

Lucy blinked, momentarily surprised, and then a slow smile spread across her face.

Tim was going to be impressed.

***

“Hey!” Angela’s voice was singsong, and she skipped merrily past the line of waiting customers to join Lucy at the front of the burrito queue. Lucy rolled her eyes, about to apologise to the people behind her, but Nyla appeared too, glaring any critics into silent submission before they even began.

“I was gonna order for them anyway,” Lucy offered to the man behind her, to assuage her own guilt.

“Never mind that - I just heard the news!” Angela interrupted, smiling conspiratorially.

“The news?” Lucy asked, her mind still focused on the grumpy line of customers behind them and thinking of a case she’d worked recently to intercept an all out brawl when a superstore checkout line had been too slow to move.

“The news, Chen, the news!” Nyla muttered, waggling her eyebrows at Lucy.

“Oh. Oh!” Lucy suddenly twigged, her neck getting hot with all the attention focused on her. “Right, the detective’s exam. I mean - that’s what you meant, right?”

“Duh.” Angela stuck out her tongue, pushing Lucy to the side as Nyla called out their order to the assistant at the window. “Carradine mentioned it to us at our morning meeting. Look at you, girl, getting all grown up and professional.” She grinned mischievously, and Lucy felt herself blush.

“Well, it’s just an expression of interest. Doesn’t mean anything yet.”

“Nu-uh.” Nyla was finished ordering and pulled both women to the second window of the truck. “It’s far more than that, don’t downplay this. Carradine gave you the tap.” Nyla smiled, and somehow Lucy could read pride in it.

“I mean, yeah. But there are still a lot of hurdles. I’ve got to talk to Tim, I need the backing of some active detectives, and there’s still the actual exam-”

“Pshhh.” Angela made a shushing gesture with her hand, tapping Lucy lightly on the shoulder. “Tim would promote you himself if he could, you’re gonna ace the exam, and you’ve got two top-notch, kickass, girl-power detectives on your side right here.” She stabbed her thumbs at herself and Nyla, exchanging a smirk with her partner and waiting for Lucy to respond.

“Are you… Are you serious?” Lucy asked after a moment, pleasantly surprised at the offer. “You’d back me, both of you?”

“Course we would. I mean, you already practically work for us and your track record speaks for itself.” Nyla paused for a moment, looking Lucy up and down while Angela collected their three burritos. “Besides, what are friends for?”

Nyla and Angela grinned at her, and Lucy felt a rush of love for both women overcome her, dipping her head and following as they walked in companionable silence to a picnic bench for their lunch.

He’d probably deny it, but Lucy could already see Tim’s proud smile in her mind’s eye, his shoulders straightening smugly as he lapped up their compliments to her, his fingers tapping gently against her thigh to let her know he heard.

***

“Officer Chen!”

Grey’s voice was never loud, but it soared above the chatter in the bullpen, drawing Lucy’s attention immediately. He was standing at his door, beckoning her over with one finger. Lucy dropped her files into the nearest tray, hurrying around the maze of desks and into the Watch Commander’s office. She stood to attention, waiting in front of his desk with her hands behind her back while Grey rustled at some papers in a shelf at the back of the room.

“Sir?”

Grey didn’t turn around, pulling out a sheaf of papers and dropping them on his desk.

“I hear you got the tap from Carradine.”

Lucy swallowed, nodding once, even though he couldn’t see her.

“Yes sir. I know I have a ways to go yet, but I think-”

“I think it’s the right move,” Grey interrupted, turning around at last and looking her in the eye. “You’re a damn good cop, Chen, but you’re meant for bigger things than patrol.”

Lucy felt a swell of pride within her, and she bit her lip to keep from smiling too obviously.

“Thank you, sir. I’ve learned from the best.” She returned his gaze, feeling suddenly overwhelmed and unusually lost for words.

“You have. That’s true.” Grey gave a small smile as he dropped into his chair, lacing his fingers across his chest. “But it doesn’t diminish what you’ve accomplished by yourself. You’re one of the finest officers in this station. Keep putting in the work like you have done, and you’ll reap the rewards you deserve.”

Lucy nodded mutely, too overcome to respond in words.

“In the meantime,” Grey unclasped his hands, leaning forward and shoving the little pile of books and papers he’d gathered across the desk to her. “Some reading material. Study up, and you’ll be ready for anything the exam throws at you.”

She stepped forward, gathering the papers into her arms and searching for the right words.

“Thank you, sir. It means so much to hear you say that. I won’t let you down.” She pulled the books tightly against her chest, stepping back and meeting Grey’s eyes again.

“I know you won’t, Lucy. The detectives don’t know how lucky they are to get you.”

She couldn’t help it - Lucy beamed.

Grey gave a small smile, nodding and dismissing her with a wave of his hand, and Lucy hurried out of his office, excited to get stuck into her research.

Tim was going to laugh.

If she already knew all there was to know for the Sergeant’s exam, what could the Detective’s exam possibly throw at her? Well, she’d show him.

It had frequently taken all her self-control not to turn his audiobooks into something far more racy, all those years ago. Wait until he saw what she could do with - she glanced down at the top two research journals on Grey’s pile: ‘Seduction of the Shadows’ and ‘A Lust for Larceny’.

Oh boy.

***

“Hey you!”

Lucy almost missed Nolan, her head bent and her tongue poked out as she struggled with the wrapper on her protein bar. She stopped in front of him, smiling. “Hey! How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. I was looking for you.” Nolan was back in his own regular clothes, heading from the locker room to the parking lot outside. “I heard the big news.”

Lucy dropped the protein bar to her side, pride and pity warring for prominence on her face.

“Yeah, I’m… The detective’s exam. I think it’s time.” She reached out, tapping his arm gently. “But look, I know it’s what you really wanted, and I-”

“Lucy, stop.” Nolan cut her off, smiling as he dropped his bag onto the edge of the planter nearby. “Yeah, sure, back in the day, it’s what I thought would be right for me. But that was all ego talking. Being a TO?” He paused in unzipping his bag, gazing absentmindedly into the distance. “It’s what I chose. It’s what I want now. I could have gone anywhere with that golden ticket, but the FTO programme… I love being able to give back. To be out there on the streets. Helping ordinary folk, and helping cops.”

He seemed to realise he’d gone off on a soliloquy when he looked back at Lucy and she was smiling fondly - patiently - as she waited for him to remember why he’d stopped her.

“But anyway, look - the point is, you’re gonna make an excellent detective. I have no doubt.” He smiled at her, pulling a bundle of books from his rucksack and handing them to her.

Lucy took them, turning them around so she could read the titles. “What are these?”

Nolan zipped up his bag again, tapping the top book on the pile. “I bought them back when I thought I still wanted to be a detective. Study material for the exam. They’re yours now.”

“Nolan…” Lucy was pleased, but she knew the price of revision books, and to take them without protest felt wrong.

“I don’t wanna hear it. Go kick ass in the exam. I know you will.” Nolan shifted his bag back onto his shoulder, smiling and reaching out to squeeze her hand once before he left, and Lucy felt another small surge of pride.

Whatever Tim thought of Grey’s reading material, he was definitely not going to have time for Nolan’s books. She could hear his dismissive tone in her head already, tossing each title onto the rug as she passed them to him, and insisting that she already knew far more than Nolan could ever teach her.

Maybe. But a few extra hours curled up on the couch together sounded really good about now, and she was sure Tim wouldn’t actually care who’d supplied the books when it was her voice reading to him.

***

“What's all this?” Tim’s tired eyes peered over her paperwork scattered across the counter, his coffee mug abandoned as he trailed his fingers slowly along her arm.

“What? I'm studying for the detective's exam!” She slapped him gently on his good shoulder, half amused, half worried that his exhaustion was getting the better of him and he was now forgetting even basic facts about her life.

“Since when?” His question was genuine, his confusion apparent, and she had the sudden sinking realisation that she’d missed seeing him so much, she’d only imagined talking to him about her plan.

“I didn't tell you?” Her mind flashed back to study sessions on the couch, lunches grilling Angela and Nyla, chatting to Carradine in the corridors of the station - Tim hadn’t actually been there for any of it.

“I... no, I don't think so.” He covered well, but she could hear the upset in his voice and she hurried to give him an explanation.

“If I'm gonna work undercover, the best move is to become a detective in some division, like intelligence or narcotics, right?”

“Right. So you got the tap?” His lips quirked up, his eyes brightening, and he tightened his grip on her hand in his lap.

“Harper and Lopez are backing me.” She felt her own smile broaden as he nodded confidently, and she continued on, “All I have to do is score in the top 12, which-”

“Which you will.” He cut her off, and her momentary apprehension disappeared at the utter confidence in his expression and in his voice. He leaned forward and she gave a soft sigh, melting into his kiss contentedly, his skin still sleep-warm and his beard scratchy against her lips. He kissed her again, squeezing her hand tightly in his own and Lucy kept her eyes closed, memorising this feeling of being close to him; of being supported by him; of being loved by him.

It would change their lives, without question, but that was the nature of their job, and neither of them had gotten into this life - this career; this relationship - without expecting change.

***

By the end of the day, reality had come crashing in, cold and hard and riddled with bullets; Juarez with her formative years thrown into chaos and Tim under investigation by IA. A simple exam or a disgruntled interviewer didn’t seem like such a big deal any more, and Lucy was just happy to catch up with Tim in the corridor of the station, linking her arm into the crook of his elbow and running through the post-shooting playbook with him as her worried mind replayed his last words at the abduction house: Suspect down. Send an RA.

He brushed her off, reminded her that it wasn’t his first time, but she needed him to know that it was different now. It was different because he had her. His life affected her, just as much as hers affected his, and she wanted to be there, by his side, to work through whatever he needed to deal with.

At last, Tim seemed to get it, stopping to gently clasp her arm and thank her for her concern.

And when he switched the topic back to her exam, offered to study with her, she couldn’t help remembering her daydreams - curled up on the couch, or in bed, reading her books to him with indecent inflections - and it seemed like it might be the perfect distraction to take him out of his own head.

Their future was never certain - he’d said as much himself - but in this moment, on this night, she could look forward with hope.

And as long as they had each other?

Anything was possible.

#chenfordweek23 #chenford fic #chenford #my fic

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mini-garden-won · 8 months

Text

Y.JW || Why me? ||

warnings : none really? Accusations, mentions of degrading yourself, a kiss, annoying girl best friend warning😭

Jungwon as your boyfriend, Wonyoung as Jungwon's girl best friend, Reader as a shy "nerd" + Jungwon's girlfriend

Y/n POV

I anxiously sit at my desk waiting for special someone to come into class. I turn my head, completely aware of who was coming as I heard girls squealing and shouting for jungwon to notice them. Yes. The special someone, was Jungwon. Of course he was the smartest and most popular Guy at school. Not to mention how good looking he was. But everyone and I mean girls and guys admired how he was good at everything. His sports and academics were always high and he was always the top of the grade, the question was how he managed it? Anyways enough about that.

Girls stopped at the door as he walked in, knowing they couldn’t trespass into another classroom other than their own, Jungwon calmly walks in and takes a seat at his desk 2 rows away from mine and lays his head on the desk. *this has been my time to go* I slowly walk over to his desk with a banana milk carton in my hand and I cautiously say “jungwon” in a small voice feeling intimidated. As he turns his head to look at me, the banana milk is snatched out of my hands by his one and only girl best friend, Wonyoung, The other rich, perfect, tall and smart popular person in this school.

Wonyoung: “Get lost, you’re not worthy of his time” as she opens the banana milk and takes a big sip of it. Feeling embarrassed, I walk back to my desk not looking back once. I was well aware that Jungwon would be going for someone like her, I knew that me as some weird nerd with glasses who seemed to be like a freak would never have a chance.

The day goes by slowly without me stopping and getting distracted about thinking about how I would never have a chance with Jungwon, how he would never even look my way. I mean look at his girl best friend? Tall, rich, pretty, smart and popular, who wouldn’t want that?

“Y/N are you paying attention to what I’m teaching you?” The teacher snaps me out of my thoughts.

Y/N : “S-sorry Sir, I’m just feeling a dizzy and sick, can I go to the infirmary?”

Y/t/n : “Fine but take someone with you, Jungwon will you go with her? I’m sure you will still understand the content without it being taught fully?”

Jungwon : “Can’t she go on her own? She isn’t a child?”

Y/t/n : “I’m afraid it is strongly advised in this school that the students do not cross the school grounds alone.”

(Back somewhere no one would see was a jealous wonyoung because now a possible candidate of jungwon’s likings was going off somewhere else alone with him…. She didn’t want what was hers taken by some stupid ugly nerd…)

Y/N POV

Y/N : “I-I’m sorry for wasting your class time over this minor issue” I curse at myself under my breath after I unintentionally stutter due to the fact this has been only the second time I was alone with Jungwon. I turn my head to Jungwon who seemed to be glowing with his hands in his pocket, hair perfectly swooped over his eyes and his expressionless face, his good looking expressionless face of course.

Jungwon : “Just don’t do this again.” He says firmly without even glancing at me once.

It’s the next day after school when Jungwon and his basketball team enhypen are practicing in the schools gymnasium, I watch him there as I see him out of breath, I run to him holding out a fresh and cold water bottle, he glances at me and gives a slight grin reaching his hands out for it but then his hand is pushed away and now has a variety of Orange juice and Strawberry milk.

No POV

Wonyoung : “I knew you liked both of these but didn’t know what to choose so I bought both!! Enjoy Wonnie!!” She says showing a charming and cheerful smile to Jungwon but as soon as he turns his back, a nasty and snarky smirk is given to Y/n, indicating for y/n to back off but how could she? After 4 years?

Jungwon POV

I turn around without wonyoung and y/n noticing to see happiness that had been swept from her eyes and an evil grin on Wonyoung’s face… What was Wonyoung up to now? I felt guilt about leaving y/n’s bottle having there but it was too late to turn back now.

*several days later*

Y/n POV

As the usual, I came to class early, waiting for my beloved, waiting to give him his daily snacks. This was my favourite time of the day, always have and always will. I see a ray of sunshine dash into the classroom in desperation to reach his desk to sleep like he did each morning.

Y/n : “Won, I brought you multiple different snacks today! First I got you your strawberry milk, a chocolate pie and walnuts-“ I stumble on my words with a sharp stop in my throat as I feel the snacks harshly shoved out of my hands by the hands of whom I expected.. Wonyoung.

Wonyoung : “Yaaa! Are you trying to kill jungwon? Since you’re so inlove with my Wonnie shouldn’t you know that he is allergic to walnuts?”

Y/n : “O-oh I’m so so sorry I didn’t know I really didn’t mean it-“

Wonyoung : “ You didn’t mean it? Pfff hah funny. You realise I can call the cops on you right now for the attempt of murder on Jungwon?”

Jungwon : “Youngie, I don’t think she meant it-“

Wonyoung : “Are you insane? Didn’t you see what this psycho nerd tried doing to you?! You’re such a pick me, stop aiming for someone who you will never get and for your information he throws ur snacks away after class, stop trying to hard.”

My eyes widen in shock and sadness as I hear the words “Yeah, stop giving me those cheap snacks each morning. You trying to get me killed from your cheap little products from the dollar store? HAHAHAH if I wanted snacks, I could of gotten some for myself”

Just as Wonyoung was about to raise her voice again the teacher came into the room, making the whispers and chatter stop and everyone walks back to their seats after watching that ruckus.

Thinking about what Jungwon said felt like a knife stabbing your heart, right smack in the centre. Tears swell in my eyes as I try to hold them back until the end of the class.

The long awaited bell rings as I gather my belongings and run away as fast as I can to the rooftop to cry all the tears that had been building up.

Jungwon POV

Guilt and guilt ate me up as I saw the tears y/n was trying to hold back, although I didn’t like her (or at least I thought I didn’t) I was still human and felt bad thinking back on the harsh words served to her. The second the bell rung, I saw Y/n rush passed everyone to somewhere I didn’t know until I followed her.

Y/n POV

I start speaking to myself :

Y/n: “ Why did I think I had a chance with him? A stupid ugly nerd like me? A poor living rat in the sewers? Wouldn’t be shocked if I found out that he liked Wonyoung all along, she indeed was the one he deserved. Not someone broken like me” I sob out loud, quiet, but loud enough for a second person to hear if they were by the door.

No POV

The second person that was by the door who was Jungwon stood there in shock, feeling that he invaded her privacy and instead of comforting her, he steps away quietly, hearing her wails get further and further away. God how guilty he had felt now… What was this new feeling? He usually didn’t care about any of his fan girls… He thought it was strange but shook it off already having a lot on his mind.

Jungwon POV

A week after that incident, I didn’t receive drinks, notes or snacks in the mornings… something I didn’t think I would miss… but after much thought I came to a conclusion that I would apologise to her because being a class president, he didn’t want to be on bad terms with anyone (was it really because he was class president?)

He spots Y/n going to the library like she usually does (he observed this about her without giving it a second thought), he musters up the courage and takes short strides towards her, hoping that the universe would stop this somehow and this would be slower but no. In no time, he has arrived at the table y/n was sitting on, looking down awkwardly at her he opens his mouth about to say something when she begins to pack up what she had just set out and stood up getting ready to leave when she looked into Jungwon’s sorrowful eyes pleading her to stay, and so she does.

Y/n : “What now? I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. Why would you quote on quote want to hang out with someone as broke as me, rich kid?” she says expressionless. (Something that wasn’t shown was the anger, frustration and tears she was holding back as the flashbacks rush over her mind all over again, feeling her heart getting pierced for the second time when she snaps back into reality with Jungwons sentence starter.)

Jungwon : “ Look y/n, as class president, I wanted to sincerely apologise for the unfair disrespect I’d shown the other day to you, it was not right of me to do that and I would like to let you know that those words were said in the heat of the moment and are to be not taken to heart …. (And maybe you should start giving me snacks again) he says mumbling to himself words only he could hear.

Y/n : I give him a questioning look, asking for what he had said at the last part but he did nothing but shake his head and give me a big smile. “I’m s-sorry for invading your privacy and almost killing you with the walnuts I really didn’t mean it, I just didn’t know and if I did I wouldn’t have and please I just-“

Jungwon : “Look, it’s okay! Everyone makes mistakes, I’ve got to head back to my friends, eat well. Y/n.

Y/n POV

I get mad at myself for trying to show a fierce and expressionless face but then stuttering trying to hold back tears as a lump in my throat started to form. Did he only do this as his duty of being class president? I mean there is so other reason anyway…

No POV

The words “Y/n, you have no choice but to be partnered up with Yang Jungwon, no excuses and no complaints, get your work done and do it well.” ring inside her head as she sits there soulless.

Jungwon : “ What’s your number so that we can meet up at one of our houses to complete the project, its due this Friday by the way (its Tuesday today)

Y/n : “Its 0*** *** ***, how about we meet up at my house since I think my mum would be more comfortable with that” My heart skips a beat. Jungwon. Yang Jungwon. My crush of 4 years would be coming to my house. Alone. This was something I’d never imagine. I look over at Jungwon who is casually listening while texting someone on his phone

Jungwon : “whatever is fine by me as long as we pass and get an A on this. And by the way y/n. Are you sick? Your face seems like it’s heating up, you should go to the infirmary?

Y/n : “I-i think I’m good it’s just getting a little warm in here I think… *no, I wish you could feel my heart beating right now, no infirmary could fix the way I feel about you, yes I forgive you but should you know that? no* “ I mumble until Jungwon repeatedly asks me what I had said but I kept refusing to tell him which made him more curious but in the end he lost.

Jungwon

The next day comes and I am greeted by Y/n and her Mum’s smile at the door of her house, I mean compared to my mansion, this was the small cozy house I’d always wanted although it had been a tad bit small.

Y/N/M : “You must be the Jungwon my daughter is always saying good things about-“

I see y/n nudging her mum to stop but I stop the awkward tension by saying

Jungwon : “Yes I must be indeed but your daughter here also has a lot of good things to say about her!! But Me and y’n have a short amount of time to prepare this task by the due date, I think we better get started as soon as possible!!”

Y/N/M : “Yes yes of course, come in and Y/n will show you her room which is to the left in the hallway!! I’ll prepare some snacks for you guys to eat while studying!!”

Y/n : “ Thanks mum, I’ll be getting started now”

Jungwon POV

I enter Y/n’s perfectly organised and cleaned room, I admire the perfectly set out decorations on her wall and want to praise her for it but stop thinking it would be too weird. Me and y/n begin to start on our work sharing a few giggles and laughs here and there.

Over the next few days that are used to make their presentation, they start becoming closer and closer, finding their happiness’ in hanging out with each other.

That was until on Thursday at 6pm, there was an intense volume of loud banging on my front door, we worriedly open to see and smiling Wonyoung who runs to cling onto Jungwon.

Wonyoung : “I miss you Wonnie!! I haven’t seen you all week since you began this project with uhm… her. We had plans today did you forget pookie?”

Y/n POV

I scoff internally at the way she desperately clings onto Jungwon’s arm and calls him by weird nicknames that not only am I disgusted by but they seem to make Jungwon uncomfortable too, someone has really got to knock some sense into that perfect but annoying head of hers.

Y/n : “I’m sorry what was it? Oh yes Wonyoung. “Pookie” here has got some work to finish with me I think you should come back or reschedule plans with him for another time-“

Wonyoung : “ How dare this broke bitch speak on behalf of you Wonnie? Just because he talk to you now you have gotten all this confidence? Chill. Girl. You don’t have a chance” she leans in closer to my ear at the end emphasising that he would never like me. Although I tried not to believe her, my heart sank knowing that she was his best friend. Wouldn’t she know everything about him?

Jungwon looks at me and raises an eyebrow wanting to know what she had said to me, he had clearly shown that he was embarrassed this had to happen infront of my house. Questions ran through my brain like “how did she know where he was” were shortly answered with all one answer. She was his best friend.

My heart ached reminiscing on the past, thinking back to when me and wonyoung had been younger, we has also been the bestest of friends but ever since Jungwon came into not only hers but both our lives, she had undoubtedly changed by a significant amount. I missed her, I missed her so much, I missed having her as my only friend. But that was all the long gone past now, nothing more or less to hope for.

We had gotten rid of Wonyoung shortly after with Jungwons 4 words. “I’ll. Meet. You. Later.” We finished off everything we needed to do before tomorrow and He headed home shortly after.

No POV

At this point, it has been a couple of months after the project, Jungwon and Y/n started to hang out more frequently whether it was just going to a library and reading their own books or going to cafes and getting drinks, they just enjoyed each others company.

One day, Y/n decided to take Jungwon to her safe place, a pace no one knew about. Not even her family. It was a rooftop, a calm shifting breeze flew between here curled layered hair, this had been the place she had come to after several severe incidents, it was truly the only place she could calm down and think in, listening to the busy streets with cars honking here and there. She was there again, but this time with someone, a special someone whom she wanted to introduce this place to.

She had just experienced another one of her dad’s drunken rampages, the rampage had been still vividly clear in her mind as if it had been filmed and watched over and over about how her dad made a small problem into a big problem, her and her sisters went in to defend and fight back with her dad after seeing what he had done to their mother, leaving bruises on her neck with his hands, they were disgusted by this filthy man who couldn’t even be called their father anymore, he bashed and kicked her in the face, he carelessly tried pushing her sister down the stairs as she comes in quickly to pull her out from the the moment. Everything rushes back to her mind and “puff” she sees a worried looking Jungwon who was treating the cuts and wounds on her face as she hisses in pain.

Jungwon : “Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital?”

Y/n : “I’ll manage fine on my own… and I’ve decided to finally open up about what has been going on and where this is all coming from (im referring to the abuse and cuts and wounds)

Jungwon’s eyes soften in happiness, glad that he was trusted enough to be told this dark information.

*Y/n goes on to talk about what her father has done and what happen in her family* “and that’s why my mum hadn’t divorced him, it was so that me and my sisters could live a more stable life with both parents… I felt like as the oldest child, I held responsibility for all this, that it was all my fault but I just didn’t know what to do either.”

Jungwon : “None of this is your fault y/n. None of it at all, I know it can be hard but once the times right your mum will do it, she’s strong willed and everything this planned out and happens for a reason, we just have to trust the universe.” Jungwon says while softly caressing her shoulder with his arm around her trying to comfort her. He gives her a reassuring nod and smile and turns back to look at the sky, so beautiful and dark yet lit with the stars.

Jungwon looks at me and wipes the tears of my cheek as his eyes trail down to my lips and without hesitation he gives her a kiss, a short but deep and meaningful one. She could see the lust in his eyes as he says :

Jungwon : “ Y/n. Lee y/n, I don’t know when this had started but I like you, every time I’m around you I feel like I’m floating in the clouds, I feel like the happiest version of myself when I’m with you. Will you be my girlfriend?”

Y/n stares at him in disbelief still not even comprehending the kiss. Jungwon? Yang Jung likes me? Is this the same person here? I have both my eyes and mouth wide open not knowing what to say but instinctively a “yes” managed to come out of my mouth.

Jungwon’s face lights up and he gives me the biggest hug to exist. Y/n thought to herself *I knew that this man was always going to be the one that made me happy…”

6 months later - Y/n POV

School had been much more fun and I had been much more motivated for school because I got to see my beloved boyfriend Jungwon… Only problem was that we decided to keep it a secret, knowing that every single one of his fan girls would follow behind me and plot some sick murder plan against me. But the disadvantage to that was having to watch ever single girl here flirt with my man, like I knew he was good looking and I trust that he wouldn’t do anything to ruin our love but it was what those girls would do to him that was getting to me.

I was walking when I saw a big group of students huddled around 2 people cheering and as I looked into it… Jungwon was kissing Wonyoung. H-h-how could he? The moment he saw me, his eyes widened and ran after me but I was far from somewhere anyone would be able to find me. How could he? The person I trusted most? And even with his girl best friend he told me not to worry about? Even after he said he would do nothing to break us apart. I was at my rooftop again, sobbing and crying in my own arms without any Jungwon comforting me this time. This was me and Jungwon’s place, usually he would be on my right hugging me but he wasn’t.

I heard his footsteps drawing closer and I quickly hid behind a wall, not wanting him to know I was there.

What was I thinking saying yes to dating a guy in 10 tiers higher than me? I would never exceed his expectations, Wonyoung was someone who would and that is what hurt most. I was never enough for anybody. I was a disappointment as a daughter, an older sister, a student and a now disappointing girlfriend.

For weeks and weeks I locked myself in my room, only coming out to eat at least once a day, some days I had eaten nothing. Miss calls and texts from Jungwon 24/7, I would never forgive him for doing such a nasty thing.

I was scrolling to instagram to take my mind off things when I stumbled upon the video of them two. Of Jungwon and Wonyoung, I find myself deeply immersed in watching it when I notice that Wonyoung had forced her kiss on Jungwon when he pulled away and cruelly shouted in her face “I have a girlfriend don’t ever touch me again”, then it was shown when he was chasing after me, calling my name and that was when everybody gasped. They all picked up on the fact that Jungwon And Me were dating.

So he didn’t cheat on me.

Y/n returns to school the next day, embraced by someone with a familiar scent right as she stepped a foot passed the door. Flowers and notes and gifts were seen to be stuck all over my desk and chair.. by jungwon himself.

Jungwon : “Look I can explain princess just give me another chance please, I beg you, I will do anything for you my love.

Y/n : “I- I’m sorry Jungwon I didn’t even let you explain before assuming the worst. I was being selfish and a bad girlfriend-“

Jungwon : “Don’t say that you were a bad girlfriend when anyone in your shoes would do the same exact thing. It was natural for you to react that way. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on the way Wonyoung felt about me.. I thought we had just been close friends but I guess she thought otherwise.

Speaking of the devil herself…

Wonyoung rushes to her in a hurry and says “ Y/n, I’m so so so sorry that I didn’t see I had ruined the best friendship anyone could have just because I was blinded by love. The moment I found out that I was kissing your boyfriend, my head snapped back into reality and I thought about all the things we went through together and I never wanted to lose you but in the end I did and I really messed up. I swear, nothing like this has happened before. I’m not looking for forgiveness but I’m looking for a chance for you to listen to how much I’ve realised you meant to me, you are an irreplaceable person.

Y/n : “Please just give me some time. Everyone. Including you Jungwon.

I take a rest from people and focus on my studies and after a while, I accept Wonyoung’s apology and being to talk to Jungwon again.

A year later - Y/n POV

Everything went well and Me and Jungwon got accepted into the same university where we both are now studying the same courses and still learning more about each other as each day goes by. They. Had been the perfect match made in heaven. I guess high school sweethearts do have a happy ending… with marriage?.. And kids?

*winks even though jungwon can’t wink*

Author’s note<;33

Thank for whoever read this, this is my first proper, proper, proper ff I have written soo wish me luck I hope you enjoyed readers<3

#Jungwon #Soft hours #Fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen #Enha

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gummybugg · 5 months

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Oc Interview Tag for Darcy aka "The Tonight Show: Without Clementine!"

Tagged by these pals! Thank youu!:

@mysticstarlightduck here

@doublegoblin here

@asterhaze here

(gently) tagging people I hope haven't been over-tagged: @digitalsatyr23 @frostedlemonwriter @abalonetea @basalamander-corner @wrenofthewords @teawhilewriting @innocentlymacabre @zestymimblo @sergeantnarwhalwrites @new-royston-cursebreakers @murosakiiro @hghrules @rubywrite @anulithots & anyone who wants to have at it (say I tagged you!)

...

This is kind of a long read (I went above and beyond again oops). I also included info about more interviews at the bottom for funsies!

Censor warning: mention of alcohol, dead bodies, gore, and mild reference to animal cruelty

Now, without further ado, let's meet our 4th interviewee, Darcy, from my WIP Crater City!

...

Much to Darcy’s irritation, he was invited to this wonderful interview that is being televised in color for all of Crater City to behold. Or, at least to those who care. The setting is a bit different from the past interviews, its new setting reminiscent of a dating game show. A cream-colored set decorated with 60s motifs backdrops a tangerine chaise lounge on stage right and a podium covered in flowers on stage left. It is unusually devoid of life after-hours, but it is the only place suitable for such a high-demand guy like the mayor of Crater City. A live studio audience seems to have congregated itself, composed of the previous candidates: Jemmah, Blair, and Elijah. In the front-center row, they are chained to those foldable theater seats with poor lumbar support that eat your ass if you sit too far back. They are not allowed to get up until the interview is over. Because that would be rude.

Darcy makes his way through a dark labyrinth of sorts (not unlike the back of an optometrist’s office), until he finally reaches the stage. The hot stage lights flit between colorful hues, accentuating his chestnut hair, navy suit, and elaborate tie. The live studio audience groans, but thankfully it can’t be heard under the fake cheering the host rigged. Darcy is instructed to make himself comfortable on the sofa, to which he crosses his legs like a respectable guest. Shortly, the Very Desirable and Well Maintained Host makes his way to his post behind the podium. The words “The Tonight Show Without Clementine” flash on the screen, accompanied by applause.

Host: Thank you for coming to the show tonight!

Darcy: It’s about damn time. You’ve been putting this off for weeks, completely messing my itinerary up. I’m a busy man, you know.

Host (adjusting tie): Apologizes!

Darcy (with a frigid glare): Shall we get on with the interview, then?

Host: ...

Host: Eh…yes?

Darcy: ...

Host: Uh, yes–yessir! Right away, sir!

[1.] Are you named after anyone?

Darcy: Am I named after anyone? (pauses in thought) No, not that I can recall.

Darcy: But I believe I was going to be named Sydney.

Host: You know, I can see it.

[2.] When was the last time you cried?

Darcy: Excuse me? What kind of interview is this?

(from the audience, Blair whispers something in Elijah’s ear. They snort. Darcy squints his eyes at them.)

Darcy: But if you really want to know, that's something I can't recall.

Host: Oh, come on, you can be honest with me, Darcy.

Darcy: No, I just mean that I physically can't cry.

Host: And why is that?

Blair: Because he's a robot after all! DUN DUN DUN~!

Darcy: Ok, that is not even remotely the reason why.

Elijah: Yeah, that's more my thing, Blair.

Jemmah: What is going on here?

Host: I actually have no clue!

[3.] Do you have kids?

Darcy: No, but that is something that’s been drilled in my head since I was younger.

Host: Do you mind elaborating on that?

Darcy: About being told how precious my genes are and that I am an important asset to saving humanity? Oh please, that’s disgusting to think about. Have you no manners?

Host: Oh, I…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pried.

Blair (quietly): That’s fine, we don’t want your offspring anyway.

Darcy: What was that?

Elijah (sinking down in his seat): Blair!

Jemmah (suddenly with a wine glass): I’m not sure what’s going on here, but I’m invested.

Blair (pointing at Jemmah): Yo, who gave him alcohol? I want some!

Jemmah: There was some on the way in, didn’t you see the huge sign?

Blair: What sign?

Darcy: It’s just like you to miss glaringly obvious signs.

Blair (baring his teeth): …Say that again?

Host: Hey, everyone, let’s try to get back on track!

[4.] Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Darcy: I do; I think many people miss it. Which isn’t my fault. If you can’t detect it, that’s your loss.

Jemmah (raising her glass): You and me, both.

Host: Tell us a joke.

Darcy: A joke? Oh, I didn't come prepared…!

Host: Oh, just anything’ll do!

(Elijah looks uncomfortable in his seat. Blair is half-asleep.)

Darcy: [censored due to censorship guidelines]

(Elijah, Jemmah and Host turn pale.)

Host: Ahaha, something pg-13 would be preferred, Darcy!

Darcy: Oh! Right, right…

Jemmah (whispering): I take back what I said.

Darcy (clears throat): What's the difference between a pair of jumper cables and a dead body?

Host: Oh gosh…what?

Darcy: Blair doesn't keep a pair of jumper cables in his trunk.

(The laugh track plays.)

Blair: Now, listen here! The only reason I don't have any is because I don't own that car!

Jemmah: And you also didn’t stuff a body in your car…right?

Elijah: Then whose car is it?

Blair: I…rented it?

Darcy: The jokes just write themselves, don't they?

Blair & Jemmah: What's that supposed to mean?

Host: Uh-oh, things aren't looking good for Blair…

(Elijah shakes his head in disappointment. Jemmah is concerned for his own safety since Blair sits next to him.)

[5.] What's the first thing you notice about people?

Darcy: The amount of eye contact they make.

Host: Oh, really? What does that say about me?

Darcy: I was just kidding, I don't usually look people in the eye unless I must.

Host: O-oh, yeah, right!

Darcy: But to answer the question, I notice how they carry themselves. If there's a certain word they enjoy saying or the cadence of their speech. The casual or formal way they act, the way they walk, who they surround themselves with…I learn a lot. I like to learn about others.

(The host looks a bit troubled about the idea of Darcy getting a clear picture of him)

Darcy: Oh, don't look at me like I'm the odd one. Blair said the exact same thing as me in his interview!

Blair: True.

Host: Well, what can you say about me?

Darcy: That, for some reason, you're scared of me. I'm not sure why, though. It's kind of insulting.

Host: Oh, no–I'm not scared of you!

Darcy: Yes, you are.

Host: You're just…so…

Host: Well, I can't help but feel like I should be the one being interviewed! (Laughing)

Darcy: Oh, am I imposing?

Host: No, I didn't mean it like that! Ah, forget what I said…

[6.] What's your eye color?

Darcy: Can't you see? (catching himself) Oh, I apologize, that was probably presumptive. Can you see?

(Editor's note: we are unable to tell whether or not Darcy is being sarcastic here)

Host: I…yes, I can, actually. It was just a question in the list. Aha!

Darcy: I'm just confused who came up with these questions, is all.

Darcy (pointing to each eye): I've got a blue one in my left and a brown one in my right.

(The camera zooms in on Darcy's face)

Host: Oh, so like that one famous musician?

Darcy: Who?

Host: Ah, nevermind. That was a weird thing to ask.

Darcy: If you're wondering, I was born this way. Human error. No big deal.

Host: Well, I think they suit you just fine. They're enchanting.

Darcy (plainly): You think so?

[7.] Scary movies or happy endings?

Darcy: A happy ending.

Jemmah: I don't like the way he's grinning like that…

Host: Oh, really? Do you have any movie recommendations for us?

Darcy: A Clockwork Tomato and One Flew Over the Crow's Nest.

Elijah: Those movies…don't have happy endings.

Darcy: Depends on what you define as a “happy ending.” Maybe that's why you're so emo. Cause you don't know how to look on the bright side of things.

Elijah (in all black): Emo?!

Blair (jolting awake): Huh?!

Jemmah: Gah! Stop yelling in my ear, Blair!

Host: What interesting selections! I've never actually seen either of those movies before, but I'll trust your judgment.

[8.] Any special talents?

Darcy: Apparently I have a light step and often scare people by mistake. I also know how to disable alarms and explosives, memorize license plates at a glance, and find almost every constellation in the sky. Believe me, I've had all the time in the world to do so.

Host: That is impressive! But I have to wonder, how often are you going to encounter explosives? Sounds dangerous.

Darcy: Oh, as mayor I have to watch my back. Many people aren't too fond of me.

(The camera pans to the audience who looks like they couldn't care less for Darcy. Blair picks his nose.)

Host: Oh…really? Sounds scary.

Darcy: Yeah, just ask that miscreant in the crowd. (Points to Blair)

Blair: Aw, poor you. Scared of a little pipe bomb right outside your window. And you call yourself the mayor.

Elijah: Not this again…

Darcy: See? He just incriminated himself! On television, at that! But no one will care, he'll just get off scot-free.

Darcy: I don't even know how he got close enough to do that–!

Blair: Easy–your security is trash. You should hire me to rewire your system, except I kinda don't like you, so there's that.

Jemmah: Do you have magic where you're from, too?

Elijah: No, Blair's just one lucky son of a bitch.

Blair: Hey, give me some credit.

Host: Wow, you two seem to share some animosity towards each other.

Darcy (sighing): I don't hate him. He's just this spur in my heel that I can't shake off. People like Blair are selfish and hinder progress because they value their inner circle more than the general population.

Blair: You're just mad you don't have any friends. Seriously man, why put your social life on blast like that? Why do that to yourself?

Darcy: I'm just trying to help people like you, but you refuse my efforts. It's maddening and confusing. You're like a boiling frog. Impossible to reason with.

Jemmah (tipsy): …What are we talking about again?

Elijah: Special talents?

Host: Ah, let's proceed to the next question!

[9.] Where were you born?

Darcy: Crater City.

Host: Ah, born in the same city you watch over. You must be proud of where you come from. I know I'd be!

Darcy: Yes, I take a lot of pride in my city. You know, my grandfather would have passed the baton to me if things had worked out.

Host: Well, then! Leadership must run in the family. As does looking sharp.

Jemmah: Oh please, you call a man in a simple suit “looking sharp.” Is that all it takes?

Darcy: I wouldn't be saying that while decked out in holographic clothing. I can see you from here, you know.

Jemmah (under her breath): Oh, I don't like this guy.

Blair: I mean, compared to me and Elijah, you have to admit, he's got some style.

[10.] What are your hobbies?

Darcy: I like to stargaze, read, collect ties (pulls at tie), learn more about the world around me, and embroider…I like to embroider plants and flowers. They remind me of better days.

Host: What do you embroider on?

Darcy: Clothing, mostly. Even if I were asked beforehand to bring in finished pieces, I couldn't because they were all gifts.

Host: Oh, I'm sure they're lovely. I could never sew, I'm not nearly as patient!

Darcy: It’s easy if you have steady hands and nothing else to do but daydream. I wish I had more time. (distantly) I'd love to go back…

[11.] Do you have any pets?

Darcy: I do! I have three rats called Juni, Vinnie, and Addy.

(The camera zooms up to Darcy showing the Host a picture of his pets: three rats snuggle around his neck and peek through his mess of curly hair.)

Host: How adorable!

(Elijah whispers something to Blair, which Jemmah overhears and gasps in disgust.)

Jemmah (now drunk): Darcy did what?!

Elijah: Jemmah, please–

Jemmah (struggling to break her restraints): You mean to tell us we're locked in a room with a man who used to make his pet rats fight against each other?!

Elijah: Jemmah!

Blair: How do you know this?

Host: Well, that sounds unflattering! Don't worry, Darcy. We'll cut it out of the final.

Darcy (calm): It's alright. I'll get them after this interview.

Host (concerned): Right….

[12.] What sports do you play/have you played?

Darcy: I've played very, very many. Let's see…volleyball, tennis, archery, fencing… I was in a 5-dimension chess club at some point. Not sure if that's considered nerdy where you're from.

Host: What is 5-D chess?

Darcy: You use space and time to move around the board. You know, five dimensions.

Host: Eh…right?

Darcy: Whoever wins the most times lines wins. Easy.

Blair: It's really just chess but for larger nerds. Don't let it get to your head.

Elijah: I just can't understand it. Then again, I never understood movies with time travel.

Darcy: Just say that you're uncultured.

Jemmah (pointing): The yeast used to make this wine has more culture than the three of you.

Host (calling from the set): Indigo, are you in the audience? Yeah, please stop serving Jemmah drinks. I don't think he needs any more. Yeah, that'll do!

[13.] How tall are you?

Darcy: 6 feet.

Host (joking): You know, many people lie about their height.

Darcy (monotone): Why would I lie about my height?

Host: Oh, haha, no reason!

[14.] Favourite subject in school?

Darcy: I never went to public school–

Blair (interrupting): Which explains a lot…

(Elijah & Jemmah cover Blair’s mouth.)

Darcy: But I gravitated more towards sociology in college.

Host: Why is that?

Darcy: I found studying why societies work the way they do far more interesting than psychology. Psychology is more exclusive. Sociology taught me the larger picture–why things happen, what we can predict to happen, and hindsight. It angered me, surprised me, and taught me a lot of things I hadn't considered while in captivity.

Host: Captivity…?

Darcy (confused): Did I stutter?

Host: No, I was just curious what you meant by that. But we don't have to delve into…

Darcy (tapping foot): How many questions are left?

Host (checking chart): Oh, just one more. Then we'll get out your hair!

[15.] Dream job?

Host: I'm sure this is a rather obvious question for you, the mayor, but…

Darcy: As a kid I wanted to become a nurse.

Jemmah: Feel that.

Host: Oh, what happened to that?

Darcy: I wasn't supposed to be a nurse, I was supposed to lead people. Fate works in mysterious ways, so…here I am.

Blair: Fate must be some wacked-up sadistic bitch.

Darcy: You'll understand when you're my age, piss ant. (To Host) You better cut that out.

Host: Yes, of course.

Darcy: As I was saying, I was set for other purposes…I suppose I get to help people either way, as was my original intention. But there are some downsides. Now, if I want to play with mangled bodies, it's seen as taboo and illegal.

Host: …!

Darcy: I'm only joking, you know. Don't act so high-strung!

Host (laughing?): Right, right…

Host: Well, it was lovely meeting you here tonight, Darcy.

Darcy: It was a pleasure.

(Host points towards stage right and Darcy turns to look.)

Host: Now, if you would just walk straight until you hit a red door…

Darcy: Right…

(Indigo silently appears behind Darcy and firmly taps the back of his neck until he slumps forward, unconscious.)

Host: And that's all the time we have for tonight!

Automated applause fills in the silence. The camera pans to the audience one last time: Blair is comforting Elijah, who is fearful of the possibility of Darcy sitting next to them; while Jemmah seems to be asking Indigo questions about how they got here and how to escape. The title “The Tonight Show Without Clementine” appears one last time before the screen fades to black. Immediately after, an ad for your local attorney plays its funky tune.

Host (sighing): Well, that's another addition to our collection. Like flies to a honey trap. Wonderful performance, everyone.

Indigo: I'm eager to see who the next guest will be.

Host: All in good time, Indie. Now, we wait.

...

TAGLIST (dm to be +/-):

@writeouswriter

@lyra-brie

@digitalsatyr23

@talesfromtheunknowable

PREVIOUS INTERVIEWS:

Jemmah

Blair

Elijah

WTF IS "The Tonight Show Without Clementine"???

Alludes to this tag I did

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youkailuvr · 1 year

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RebelCaptain Secret Santa 2022

Hi @grexigone! I'm your RebelCaptain Network Secret Santa!

I sincerely hope you like this - it ended up being different than I had planned in my head (I think over half of it wrote itself), but I think it still works. It's titled Rest and is also posted on AO3.

The summary is below; full fic below the cut.

*****

While the Rebellion prepares to leave Yavin IV after the destruction of the first Death Star, Princess Leia and General Draven have a particular mission in mind for Cassian and Jyn. Who knows? Maybe they'll actually get a chance to rest on this one.

Three months after the Battle of Yavin and the destruction of the Death Star found Cassian Andor standing in front of both General Draven and Princess Leia.

“Good to see you on your feet, Captain,” greeted the Princess, “If you are agreeable, we have a few tasks we’d like you to complete.”

Cassian nodded. “Of course. What do you need me to do?”

Draven answered him. “As you are still officially on light duty after Scarif, we would like you to complete a handful of diplomatic visits.”

Cassian blinked, the only outward sign of surprise he allowed himself. “Diplomatic visits, sir?”

“Yes,” confirmed Princess Leia, “The Death Star has been destroyed, yes, but we need to capitalize on this time to strengthen the relationships we have with our allies. Your background in recruiting for the Rebellion and, the fact that, as the General said, you are on light duty, makes you an ideal candidate to accomplish that. While you are meeting with our allies, we will focus the rest of assets into selecting a new base and starting the evacuation of all our forces – now that the Empire knows our location, it is unsafe to stay here any longer than strictly necessary.”

The logic was sound and, Cassian had to admit, it would be nice to get off base again for a while. “When do I leave?” he asked.

“First thing tomorrow morning,” Draven told him, “You may take a partner with you, if you wish. Details will be sent to your datapad within the hour. If you have no further questions, you’re dismissed to prepare.”

Twelve hours later found Cassian seated in the pilot’s chair of a small, but functional, shuttle with Jyn in the co-pilot’s seat. Jyn had been getting a little restless herself and practically jumped at the chance to leave base.

“So we’re just checking in on our allied planets? Sounds boring.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow as he flipped on the autopilot. “I thought after the last time we flew somewhere together that you might want something ‘boring.’”

Jyn grinned. “Alright, so the last time was a bit much. How long do we have to reach the first planet?”

“Long enough to go over the mission debrief information the Princess sent to us,” Cassian said, standing from the chair and walking to the back sitting room of the shuttle. Jyn rolled her eyes, but got up to follow.

What came after was three weeks of traveling from planet to planet, meeting with the Rebellion’s allies on each. Some were openly supportive of their efforts, allowing Jyn and Cassian to accomplish their goals more easily. Most, however, had to support the Rebellion in secret. On those planets, Jyn and Cassian disguised themselves as tourists, newlyweds, bounty hunters, smugglers – whatever would help them to blend in.

Many of the allies were willing to keep supporting the Rebellion in what ways they could, especially after hearing of the destruction of the weapon responsible for the annihilation of Alderaan, but the implosion of Jedha City.

The rest needed more convincing, even with the Death Star’s destruction. They knew that the Empire would strike back hard after loosing their most powerful weapon, against both the Rebellion and any people or places connected to them.

Rebellion Command was pleased with their reports thus far and the trip was proceeding about as calmly as Cassian expected it to. The constant space travel and adapting to different planets, however, was starting to wear on his still healing back and spine. He was very grateful, therefore, to reach Carosi XII, one of the Rebellion’s strongest allied planets.

Carosi XII was openly supportive of the Rebellion, making it a haven for not only the Rebellion troops, but for free traders and those fleeing the Empire. The planet was mostly composed of cold and glaciers, but volcanic activity had formed one portion into an oasis of naturally formed, mineral-rich hot springs, which in turn had attracted tourists and provided for the people of the planet.

All of that meant that Carosi XII was an excellent mid-point in Cassian and Jyn’s journey. Their timeline even allowed them to take two days to rest planet-side before returning to their shuttle to finish their trip. After landing, they met with the governmental leaders of Carosi.

Confirming Carosi XII’s continued support was an easy, quick affair; the planet had been an ally for so long that the meeting was little more than a formality. Soon, Jyn and Cassian arrived at a guest cabin that had been prepared for their short stay before continuing to the next planet.

Jyn dropped her bag on the couch just inside the cabin door on her way to explore the place with Cassian right behind her. As soon as Jyn returned to say the cabin was clear (they may have been on a fully allied planet, but they couldn’t entirely drop their guard), he allowed himself to drop into the nearby waiting armchair and let his head drop back to rest against the back.

“Tired?”

Cassian cracked open one eye to look at her, perched on the arm of one of the other chairs. “Three weeks of space travel on a newly healed back will do that.” He pretended not to notice her slight wince at his mention of the wounds he had sustained on Scarif.

Jyn stood and turned to walk towards one of the back rooms. “Well, I’m hungry – I’m going to raid the kitchen.”

“Can you cook?” he asked and watched her shoulders shrug in answer.

“Well enough. Food is food.”

Cassian’s curiosity about the provisions available to them overrode his exhaustion and he got up to follow her to the kitchen.

The kitchen was very well stocked, as it turned out, and together, they made a hearty meal of noodles topped with a thick spicy red sauce, complete with good sized portions of the local protein and a dessert consisting of a sweetened fruit salad topped with a whipped cream (which oddly enough, was pink, due to the mineral deposits the native milk animals favored).

Afterward, they cleaned up and took turns in the ‘fresher. One perk of being on this planet was a source of seemingly inexhaustible hot water. Yavin IV had good facilities for a force of its size, but there was something to be said for being able to take as long as they wanted (even though neither took very long). Jyn went first and while Cassian was taking his turn, she explored the cabin a little more, including checking into the back courtyard.

When Cassian stepped out the ‘fresher, wearing a simple shirt and pair of pants, toweling his hair dry, Jyn was waiting for him. “Guess what I found?” she grinned.

Cassian raised an eyebrow, but followed her anyway when she turned and walked back through the kitchen and out the door that lead into the back courtyard.

He knew from the briefing that Carosi XII was known for its hotsprings, but he hadn’t thought they’d have time to actually visit one. Apparently, Cassian was wrong.

There, in the middle of the courtyard, was a natural hotspring. The water was steaming as it let off a mild mineral odor; there were just enough stone outcroppings surrounding the pool to allow for easy access and a place to sit while mostly submerged in the warm waters.

Cassian turned to look at Jyn, who was still grinning.

“These springs are supposed to be good for sore bodies,” she said, opening a cabinet nearby. “And look – they even gave us things to wear and extra towels.” She held up a pair of silvery gray shorts in one hand and a thick fluffy towel of the same color in the other hand.

Cassian gave her a small smile in return and took the items from her. They both turned back into the cabin to change. By the time they returned to the hotspring, Carosi XII’s sun was settling itself on the horizon, which meant that it was nearing 2100 ship time, which also meant that Jyn and Cassian had both been up for nearly 24 hours thanks to a restless night of sleep the night before.

Cassian turned to look at Jyn standing next to him in a similar pair of shorts, but with an added, semi-loose fitting tank top in the same gray as the shorts and her own towel slung over her shoulder.

He extended his hand toward the waiting water. “Ladies first.”

Jyn rolled her eyes, but set her towel on the small stool-like table standing next to the pool and slid inside, letting out an involuntary sigh of approval and satisfaction at the heat of the water.

Cassian stepped in next to her and was hard-pressed to not do the same. “You were right.”

“Of course I was.”

Cassian and Jyn settled side-by-side on a submerged stone bench and leaned against the side of the pool.

“This is amazing...I might have trouble getting out of this pool later.”

Jyn grinned. “I know...I wonder if we could convince the rest to add one of these to the next base.”

Cassian huffed a small laugh. “The chances of us being on a base that could support these springs are slim-to-none. Though I could ask to be assigned to come here whenever needed.” He thought for another moment.

“I’m sure I could convince the Princess that the leaders here would like to talk to her face-to-face. Then, of course, she would need a security escort.”

Jyn happily added on to his fictional scenario. “And seeing as she’s a Princess and one of the Rebellion leaders, she’d need more than one escort. Two would be the minimum, I would think.”

“The pair would have to be two people who worked well together and could blend into most crowds, giving the Princess the illusion of being out on her own.”

“You think we could convince Draven to let you go whenever she asked?”

Cassian smiled a little crookedly at that. “If the Princess asked, he’d have to.”

They both laughed at the thought of Draven having to follow the young leader’s wishes (when he clearly didn’t want to), before falling silent and enjoying the warmth of the spring.

Sometime later, Jyn turned to Cassian. “Does your back still hurt?”

He shrugged one shoulder slightly. “The water’s helping, but I think it’s stiff and sore from spending so much time on the ship and not sleeping in a decent bed for more than a few hours.”

Jyn set her jaw. “I could help.”

Cassian turned to her and blinked. “Help?”

She nodded. “I’ve done some reading...there are some techniques for working and rubbing the muscles that can ease stiffness or pain. I know you have the exercises from therapy, but the back is hard to get on your own.”

He blinked again, surprised at her offer. “You want...to give me a massage?”

It was hard to tell with the heat of the water, but he thought Jyn might have flushed slightly. Clearly embarrassed, she shook her head and turned slightly away from him.

“No...well, yes, but obviously if you don’t want me to, I won’t. Actually, forget I offered. This never happened.”

“What if I do?”

Jyn’s head whipped back up to look him in the eyes. “You do what?

“What if I want you to do that?”

Now it was Jyn’s turn to blink. “You want me to give you a massage?”

Cassian nodded slightly, feeling a slight warmth in his own cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat of the water. “If these techniques work, I don’t see why we can’t give it a shot. This water feels incredible, but we won’t always have the option of stopping here when my back aches again, so why not? That is, if you’re alright with it?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Okay then,” Cassian said, twisting away from her to present his back to her.

“I-I don’t think I can do it here. The water will make it hard to move properly.”

Cassian turned back to her. “Then we go back inside.”

With a little reluctance, Cassian and Jyn left the soothing waters of the hotspring, wrapping themselves in their towels before heading inside.

Cassian let Jyn go ahead of him once more to ensure the back door was locked after they entered. He padded through the cabin to check the front door lock and turn off the lights. He stopped in the bathroom to change back into the pants from earlier before heading toward Jyn.

He found her in the larger of the two bedrooms, dressed in a soft-looking, deep green sleep shirt and pants, standing next to the bed and staring at it.

Most Rebellion bunks were furnished by either barrack bunks or, for officers and those who required a single occupancy room, a bed that was little more than a cot. None of the beds were very large, barely enough for one person, though Jyn was small enough that they could share Cassian’s ever-so-slightly larger-than-a-bunk bed, which was useful on bad nights when neither could sleep and they just laid together, passing the hours in companionable silence, grateful for the presence of someone trusted.

The bed in this room, however, was nearly three times the width of the bunks on base and at least half again as long. The ivory sheets were a soft, slightly fuzzy material and felt as if they’d be the perfect weight. The blanket was an intricately sewn quilt of variegated shades of blue and green and the pillows were filled with a soft material that gave gently under his touch but felt as if it would be supportive enough to not cause a neckache.

All in all, the bed was the most luxurious thing either of them had seen in quite some time.

And neither of them quite knew what to do with it.

“Well, how do you want me?” Cassian asked.

Jyn blinked out of her daze. “What?”

“Do you need me to stand here, sit on the bed, what?”

“Oh,” she said, “I suppose you should lie down. On your stomach. It’ll be easier for me to reach that way.”

Cassian hesitated for the briefest of moments, less than a second. Exposing your back to someone and lying in such a vulnerable position could, in his line of work, be a risk that ended your life. But this was Jyn. If he couldn’t trust her, he couldn’t trust anyone.

He stepped to the head of the bed and pulled down the blanket and top sheet. He then laid down, grabbing a pillow as he did to rest his head and shoulders on, curling his legs underneath it.

Cassian felt the bed shift as Jyn climbed on and knelt next to him, followed by the feel of her cool hands against his shoulder blades. He flinched and the hands disappeared.

“Sorry – did I hurt you?”

He turned his head just enough to look at her. “How are your hands so cold after we just got out of that hotspring?”

She grinned sheepishly and rubbed her hands together to warm them. “Let’s try again.”

Cassian turned his head back to the pillow and let Jyn do what she wished. Her hands were still cool, but a little warmer than before and soon warmed up even more as she kneaded and pulled and pressed her way up and down his back. She paid special attention to the areas around his lower spine and ribs, where he had surgeries to correct the damage.

As Jyn worked, Cassian felt himself relaxing more and more until only the absence of her hands woke him from his doze. He looked over just as Jyn slid off the bed and reached to turn out the light.

“Where are you going?”

“I was going to let you get some sleep.”

He reached out a hand and she took it. A small tug and she toppled back into the bed next to him. “You need to sleep, too, you know,” he said, voice low with the pull of sleep.

She looked at him softly. “You sure?”

He just pulled their joined hands closer to him in response. Jyn gave him a gentle smile before slipping her hand from his long enough to turn off the bedside lamp and pull the blanket up over them.

Cassian turned onto his side in the bed and reached his hand into hers again, tugging her closer to him.

“Sleeping on your side like that might aggravate your back again,” Jyn whispered, but, judging by the way she was relaxing in his arms, she wanted him to move about as much as he wanted to.

Cassian settled further into his pillow and tucked his arm around her waist.

“Worth it,” he mumbled.

#grexigone #rebelcaptainsecretsanta #therebelcaptainnetwork #fanfic #star wars #rogue one #rebelcaptain #secret santa 2022 #cassian andor #jyn erso

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rainbowsalt0412 · 1 year

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Osamu Dazai’s Entrance Exam - Chapter 3

12th

Here at the office, the midnight oil burns until morning.

I sit before a solitary light, unable to sleep most of the evening. The countless deaths, the people lost…

There is no difference between myself and them. Are we not all born on the same planet, only to ultimately return to the eternal heavens together in death?

O divine creator, answer me.

“Allow me to begin.”

I address the attendants sitting around the table. The agency’s conference room doubles as a drawing room. There are a total of seven workers present—office workers and detectives—and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say these are most of our top members. It’s extremely rare for them to gather like this. I pass out the necessary documents, then explain.

“I would like you all to refer to these documents concerning our situation. To summarize, our agency is currently being threatened. Someone has crafted a careful, devious scandal against us.”

“Yeah, the agency’s in trouble. We get it. Now get to the point and tell us about the bomb.”

One of the attendees speaks up. It’s the agency’s personal physician, Dr. Yosano.

“Very well. This is an e-mail I received from the offender. It will help profile the criminal as well, so please make sure to read it.”

Dear Sir,

I hope everyone at the Armed Detective Agency is doing well. I would first like to extend my deepest gratitude to you all for your support in investigating the abandoned building. Now, I know this is quite sudden, but I am contacting you in hopes of asking you another favor.

Only a few moments ago, we set a massive bomb somewhere in town. Therefore, for the safety of the people, I would like for you to promptly find this explosive and dispose of it. Furthermore, this bomb is set to detonate tomorrow at sundown, so I strongly urge that you solve this case before then.

This explosive we created is the same type of bomb that robbed the world of over one hundred precious lives during a certain incident in the past. What a horrendous event that was. The everlasting flames and blinding corona made it seem as if the sun itself had fallen out of the sky. The buildings fell one after another while innocent people’s skin melted as they struggled to escape. The ground liquefied, and vehicles were knocked into the buildings like spears. I could describe it only as hell on earth. That is why I beg that your agency makes their best effort to prevent something like that from ever happening in Yokohama.

While I understand that this goes without saying, we shall be recording your agency’s efforts just like last time. Please note that if you unfortunately fail to disarm the bomb, we will once again release the footage to the public.

With best wishes to you, I pray for your health and success.

Yours sincerely,

The Azure Apostle

“…What kind of sick person writes a thing like that?” Dr. Yosano scoffs. “I completely agree. It is more than evident that this so-called Azure Apostle is the one who recorded the incident at the abandoned hospital and released it to the public to tarnish our agency’s name. And now it appears they are threatening us again.”

“So you believe the offender’s objective is to hurt our agency’s reputation?” the president calmly inquires.

“Most likely.”

The Armed Detective Agency has fought through hell on multiple occasions. You would need an army to take us down in a battle of brute force.

However, as long as we are a commercial corporation in the service industry built on the trust of our clients, a scandal like this would make us vulnerable. If the news spreads that we failed to disarm the bomb, and if there is any judicial intervention, then the agency’s reputation will be ruined. We would be driven out of business.

“Do you have any idea as to where the bomb is?”

“The terrorist insinuated that it’s somewhere that could kill and injure over a hundred people, so we have workers currently searching for possible locations. However, there are countless candidates, such as stations and skyscrapers, so finding the bomb before time runs out could be next to impossible.”

“How about we start off by searching for surveillance video cables?”

As mentioned in the e-mail, the Azure Apostle would have to record us failing and leak those videos to the public in order to tarnish our reputation. Therefore, they would most likely be using equipment to secretly videotape us just like last time, but…

“If the surveillance equipment or wiretaps used the latest batteries, they would be able to record a few days’ worth of footage. They could also be small and shaped like a die or fountain pen, even, and able to wirelessly transmit data up until the explosion destroys them. Realistically speaking, finding the surveillance equipment would prove to be an even more difficult task than finding the bomb. Just in case, I have been asking distributors if they know of anyone purchasing a large number of said devices, but the answers I’ve received so far have been less than ideal.”

“Any records of criminals who go by the name Azure Apostle?”

“We haven’t found any such records so far.”

Azure Apostle. The only difference from the first e-mail is the fact that the client signed off with their name. There has to be a reason for that. All we can say for sure right now is that the Azure Apostle is knowledgeable about explosives and is, for whatever reason, trying to run the agency into the ground.

“I’m currently in contact with an affiliate who’s making a list of candidates who specialize in explosives and may have a grudge against the agency.”

“Still unable to get in contact with Ranpo?” Dr. Yosano asks.

I’m fairly sure the president himself has been keeping in touch with Ranpo…

“I spoke with him this morning,” the president replies, crossing his arms. “He said the incident in Kyushu is about to reach a conclusion, so he should be on his way back soon. However, it’s unlikely he will be able to return before sundown.”

Ranpo Edogawa is a skill user and the top detective we have at this agency. Assault, kidnapping, murder—no matter the crime, his extraordinary skill, Super Deduction, allows him to reveal the truth. We would have been able to solve this case in no time if he was here…but unfortunately, he is in Kyushu handling another case at the request of a central government official. Ranpo’s investigating a bizarre murder case where a white-haired man supposedly came back from the dead and killed his wife and best friend, so he is not in a situation where he can immediately return to Yokohama.

“Would it be possible to have an interview with this taxi driver in custody?” the president asks.

“The driver is currently on board a special military aircraft that is still in the sky as we speak. It’s keeping him safe from any assassination attempts by the Mafia, but it also makes getting an interview with him extremely difficult.”

Even the Mafia wouldn’t be able to reach their target if he’s in the sky. Unfortunately, that makes getting information from our witness a difficult task as well.

“I will speak with the military police’s intelligence department. I want you to get in contact with whoever you can on that aircraft and have the cabdriver answer our questions in writing.”

“I’ll prepare the necessary documents immediately.”

It’s unlikely that the cabdriver is the Azure Apostle. It just wouldn’t make sense for him to go out of his way to e-mail us with information on where the kidnapped victims were being held. In a way, he’s also a ‘Victim’ who got ratted out by the Azure Apostle. But then that begs the question: How are the taxi driver and the Azure Apostle connected? At any rate, all we can do now is hope that he knows something.

“Everyone, listen up. What we have here is a cowardly attack on the Armed Detective Agency. We have two objectives: find the aggressor and disarm the bomb. Defusing the bomb within the time limit is our top priority. If we allow that bomb to kill anyone, then we do not have the right to call ourselves detectives anymore. Understand that your pride as humans, not as detectives, is on the line. Now get started.”

And with those orders from the president, everyone stands and promptly begins to take action.

***

The investigation is so busy that there is hardly a moment to breathe. The deadline is sundown today. Until then, we have to search the city and find that bomb. There’s no time.

I think back to the investigation that led to this and pick up the phone. I asked Rokuzo to trace the first e-mail, which could potentially help solve this case. After listening to the phone ring for a while, Rokuzo finally picks up.

“Heeey… This is Taguchi. Sorry I’m not…yaaawn…here right now. Seeya.”

“I don’t have time for your games. This is urgent.”

“Oh, is that you, Four-Eyes? Do you have any idea what time it is? It’s nine in the morning, for cryin’ out loud!”

“You’re the only one still sleeping at nine in the morning, you social misfit. Start acting like a normal person and go outside more. It’s good for your health.”

“Tsk. Who d’you think you are, my dad?”

“No, I—”

I can’t be your father.

I swallow the words before they slip off my tongue.

“Anyway, there’s been a change of plans. I need you to trace that client’s e-mail and find out who they are as quickly as possible. Have you made any progress?”

“Oh, that? It turned out to be a lot more difficult than I thought. I won’t get technical on you, but they’re using multiple hubs to hide their tracks. This wasn’t the work of an amateur.”

I am already painfully aware of that.

“I received another e-mail from the same sender. Could you find the source if you had that?”

“It would help, but I can’t say anything for sure until I try… There are other ways to do this, though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I could send a virus to the hub and use it to trace the source from there. It’d take some work, but it’s reliable. I’d kind of have to break the law, though.”

“It’s fine. The ends justify the means. Do it.”

“Whoa. You serious? You, Mr. By-the-Book? I’m recording this call, y’know. What if I told you to hand over the recording of me hacking into your detective agency in exchange for this conversation?”

“Then I’d do it. Just hurry, okay?”

I never planned on handing it over to the authorities in the first place. I just said that to have an excuse to get Rokuzo’s assistance. Apparently, he hasn’t figured that out, though.

“Wow. How generous of you, Four-Eyes. You better have some cash waiting for me when this is over.”

The phone clicks. I ponder in silence with the receiver still in hand. This is no time to get sentimental. The bomb is top priority. We’re going to have the deaths of innocent lives on our hands if we don’t find it in time. Still, we have no leads. Damn it. What the hell is Dazai thinking, disappearing at a time like this?

***

It isn’t long before I find Dazai during my search downtown. He’s at an old- fashioned café facing the road, trying to chat up a woman.

“Is this your first time in Yokohama? I could show you around if you want.”

“Really? You would do that for me? But I’d feel terrible… I mean, it sounds as if things are rather chaotic at the detective agency with the bomb threat. You even said Detective Kunikida has been busy with phone calls and the investigation all morning.”

“He’s a workaholic—a real glutton for punctuality. I mean, get this: If you tell him to meet you at around twelve o’clock, he’ll show within ten seconds of twelve every time. What is he, a train?”

“Oh my… You don’t say.”

“Dazai! What do you think you’re doing, skipping work?! And don’t use me in your attempts to pick up women!”

“Oh, and when we were at this abandoned hospital, Kunikida thought he saw a ghost, and he started shrieking like a little girl—”

“Don’t ignore me!”

I slap Dazai on the back of the head while he merrily chats with Miss Sasaki.

“Ouch! What was that for, Kunikida? Hmm? …Kunikida? How long have you been there?”

“Don’t play dumb. You knew I was behind you. Anyway, what do you think you’re doing? We have a dire emergency on our hands, and you’re out on some kind of fancy date? Not only that, you’re out with a victim from one of our cases!”

“Are you jealous?”

“I’m not jealous!”

I am in no way jealous. Absolutely not.

“Come on—don’t be like that. She was almost killed by some monster. The poor gal’s traumatized. Isn’t it our duty as a detective agency to protect her and provide emotional support? And from my experience, it takes only a smile and some kindness to get a woman swooning over you when she’s fallen on hard times.”

“You should have just shut up while you were ahead.”

…I’ll have to write that tidbit down in my notebook later.

“Besides, how could someone as flippant as you even have a chance?” Surely a woman this beautiful must already be seeing someone.

“And that’s just what makes you Doppo Kunikida. I asked, and she doesn’t have a family or anyone she can go to. Also, she and her boyfriend separated not too long ago.”

…I remember her mentioning she didn’t have anyone to turn to, but I had no idea it was this severe.

“So she’s available, Kunikida.” Dazai grins, gently elbowing me in the side.

“Available for what?”

I’ll just make a face like I have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Listen, Dazai. I came here to fill you in on what we discussed at this morning’s meeting, which you so happened to skip. And if I catch you skipping again, I’m going to take every appropriate measure to successfully resuscitate you the next time you try to kill yourself.”

“Oh, that’s dirty. You’re sick, Kunikida.”

Dazai makes a disgusted expression. Satisfied, I place the documents in hand on the table and spread them out.

“This is the latest information. We received a recording of the kidnapper’s statement during the military police’s questioning. It appears he admitted to kidnapping the victims and gassing them so they couldn’t escape. However, that’s all he admitted. He claims he didn’t know about the surveillance equipment, and it’s unlikely he would lie about it now. That’s why—”

“There must be at least two people behind this, right? The person who kidnapped the victims and the person who recorded everything: The former is the driver, while the latter is the Azure Apostle, I’m guessing?”

“Conceivably, yes.”

“Um…” Miss Sasaki timidly speaks up. “Are you sure I should be listening to this? Wouldn’t this fall under confidential information?”

“You’re a victim, Miss Sasaki, and you’re just as much a part of this as we are, so don’t worry about a thing. If you weren’t, Mr. Stickler-for-Rules right here wouldn’t have started explaining things with you around.”

“I am not particularly strict about rules. This is normal.”

“See? He even jokes around sometimes. Hilarious, am I right? Anyway, any new leads on the criminal we’re after?”

“I’m completely normal.”

“…Sorry, you’re right. It’s completely normal. So can you continue filling me in on what’s going on?”

Why did he apologize?

“We looked into the cabdriver’s history, and as far as we could tell, he had no connections with any underground shady businesses. The data makes him seem like nothing more than your ordinary taxi driver. He has no criminal history and no reputation for hanging with the wrong crowd. And yet, I have a hard time believing he came up with the idea to kidnap people and sell their insides to an organ-trafficking syndicate on his own. Someone must have told him about this get-rich-quick scheme.”

“Someone like the Azure Apostle? Couldn’t we just ask the driver who told him?”

“He won’t tell us. He thinks if he talks, they’ll really kill him this time. I’d love to pull each and every hair off his head until he gives us something, but unfortunately, he’s under heavy surveillance over the clouds right now. We’d run out of time before we could pull enough strings to get an interview with him.”

Just who’s behind all this? Not only did they approach the taxi driver with the organ trade offer, set up surveillance equipment in that abandoned hospital, and make a bomb, they also set said bomb somewhere in the city and are trying to threaten the agency. But why? What are they after?

“I hope I’m not overstepping my boundaries here, but…” Miss Sasaki suddenly speaks up. “Do you think this Azure Apostle could be the criminal behind the Azure Banner Terrorist incident?”

“Hmm…”

The Azure Banner Terrorist case—the incident that cost Rokuzo’s father his life. The moment I saw the word azure in his name, I briefly played with the idea myself.

“But the terrorist behind that incident, the Azure King, died in the blast as well. The dead cannot threaten the living. That much is certain in this world.”

“Oh, so does that mean you’re not afraid of ghosts anymore, Kunikida?”

“Never speak of ghosts again.”

“But it was a large explosion, yes? I heard they never found the Azure King’s body, either. What if he faked his death to escape and is now in hiding somewhere?”

I had wondered that myself, which is why I contacted the military police.

However, they said that wasn’t possible.

“According to police analyses, the Azure King undoubtedly perished in the blast. They have the latest forensic technology available, and some of their comrades died in the explosion as well, so it’s hard to imagine they would overlook anything.”

“But…”

“Well, I dunno much about this Azure King, but is he really someone who would crawl out of the pits of hell to take vengeance on the agency?”

Dazai’s ignorance never ceases to amaze me.

I reluctantly explain. The Azure King was the mastermind behind the Azure Banner Terrorist incident that targeted and destroyed government facilities. He was known as the worst and most destructive domestic terrorist threat of postwar Japan.

Once said to be an excellent state government official before raising the azure banner, the ambitious youth graduated at the top of his class from an elite educational institution, then worked as a central civil servant in the executive and legislative world after studying abroad. Yet, somewhere along the line, he mysteriously began to aspire to cleanse society through its destruction.

Then one day, a certain video recording was sent to a major domestic broadcasting station. It was a video of a young man whose face had been obscured by an azure banner. He called himself the Azure King and claimed he was going to commit an act of terror. He then told of how he lamented for this imperfect world and that such imperfections could only be buried by other imperfections.

“No matter how much we aspire to, our neighbors will fall ill, our parents will die, and only a small fraction of evildoers will see justice. Then let us realize an ideal world, not by the hand of a god but by our own imperfect bloodstained hands.”

And with those final words, three domestic government facilities were simultaneously attacked: The city police’s associated facility was set on fire, something collided with a government vehicle, and a military post was hit with a bomb.

A later investigation revealed that the eight people he killed included a murderer who was found not guilty due to the prosecutor’s insufficient paperwork, a member of parliament who was rumored to have been embezzling funds meant to aid refugees from industrializing nations, and a military platoon that beat a young military policeman to death before systematically covering up the act. These eight people all perished in the attack. The Azure King committed an act of evil to execute criminals who couldn’t be punished by the law.

This blitz tactic shocked everyone. He was able to simultaneously attack and destroy multiple strictly guarded and heavily protected government facilities. Nobody even imagined such an attack was possible.

And the Azure King’s terrorist acts continued further. Disgraced, the military and government gave nationwide orders to locate and arrest him. Even the detective agency was asked to help. What happened after that was exactly how I explained before. His hideout was discovered, and those who went inside were killed in his suicidal blast. The case was solved at the cost of innocent lives.

“But if the one behind this really is the Azure King, then why would he be so persistent in trying to tarnish the agency’s name?”

“Maybe because you’re the one he has a grudge against, Kunikida.”

A grudge? Against me? I mean, I was the one who contacted the police and led them to his whereabouts, but… It can’t be. The ghost of the Azure King, the worst terrorist this country has ever seen, returned from the grave to have his revenge on the agency and me because of a grudge?

“At any rate, we’d best keep our guard up until we know who we’re dealing with. There’s no way of knowing who’s going to attack us or when they’re going to do it. We have to take Miss Sasaki somewhere safe as well.”

“Perhaps the agency office? Oh, but nobody’s there at night. Hmm…” That’s when I suddenly catch on to what Dazai’s up to.

“I seriously hope you’re not trying to find an excuse to keep her at your place to ‘Protect’ her, because I will not allow such lewd, immoral, unhealthy relations to continue any longer. Honestly, were you raised by savages or something? Absolutely appalling. If it were me, y’know, I’d first make her feel comfo—”

“Hold on, Kunikida. You know there’s nothing going on between Miss Sasaki and me, right?”

“What?”

“Listen, the first day she stayed over, I slept in another room. I haven’t laid a finger on her. C’mon, do you really think I’d try to seduce a woman who was almost killed earlier that day? I’ve got a little more sense than that. Besides, I’d have to deal with you if that ever happened, and I’d rather not.”

Oh… It looks like I jumped to conclusions.

“I can’t deny that I knew you had the wrong idea, and I just decided not to say anything ’cause it was funny, though.”

You little…

That said, a pure, honest man such as myself could have had it much worse in this kind of situation. Dazai could have said something like “You assumed the worst all because she spent the night at my place? Gee, Kunikida, you’re a real perv.” I wouldn’t be able to refute that, and I’d probably die an agonizing death on the spot. I guess I should just be thankful that didn’t happen.

…But how could I not imagine something like that? This is Dazai we’re talking about. In any case, if there is anything to be thankful for, it’s that he’s not some lecher who jumps on any woman he can get his hands on. Keeping a professional distance from the victim is more difficult than I thought.

“Just stop wasting my time, Dazai. If nothing happened, then we have nothing to worry about. But from now on, let’s make sure to keep a healthy distance during work and forge proper relationships with our clients. This is what it means to be a professional.”

“…I hear you.” He firmly nods before facing Miss Sasaki once more. “So what’s your type?”

“Didn’t you just say you heard me?!”

I take it back. He is a lecher who would jump on any woman given the chance.

“M-my type…? I’m sorry; I just feel it would be rather presumptuous of me to seek out a specific type of man, but…I do find men who are passionate about their ideals and really devote themselves to something to be…very attractive.”

…Come again?

“Aw man. You basically just described Kunikida! Looks like I never had a chance. Tsk. Well, you two enjoy the rest of your date. I’m gonna go make sure I still have all my fingers.”

“D-Dazai, get back here!”

“What? Ugh, now I forgot what finger I was on!”

“Quit sulking and take a seat!”

You can’t leave me alone with her! I wouldn’t know what to talk about!

“But I’m just an ordinary woman. Even if I was with someone who lived for his ideals, I wouldn’t be of any help. Even if I devoted myself to supporting those ideals, I would only end up getting in the way and exhausting us both… Ultimately, he would choose his ideals over me, and things would end there. So I think I will abstain from dating any idealists in the future.”

There is a hint of sorrow in her smile…but why?

“You’re so easy to read, Kunikida. You know that?”

“I—I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular! Quit looking at me, Dazai!”

“Ouch!”

I twist Dazai’s head until he’s facing the opposite direction.

“First, you want me to sit. Now you want me to look the other way. Can you make up your mind? Anyway, can we just get back on topic?”

…What were we talking about again?

“Oh, about keeping Miss Sasaki somewhere safe, yes? Well, I do have some acquaintances with the police I could contact…”

“Hey, um…I really appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, but I don’t want to bother you any more than I already have… So please don’t worry about me. I’ll find a hotel to stay in tonight.”

“I can’t allow that. Hotels aren’t safe, and sending you to one after the recent events would be in bad taste. Having said that, I wouldn’t trust Dazai to keep his hands to himself if you stayed at his place again. Come stay at mine.”

“Huh?”

“D-don’t get the wrong idea! I have no ulterior motives, if that’s what you’re implying!”

“Actually, from the way this conversation’s been going, it sounds like an ulterior motive is all you have. You just don’t know when to quit, eh?”

“It’s not like that! I’m just genuinely—”

“Ah-ha-ha-ha! I’m kidding! Miss Sasaki, you’ll be safe at Kunikida’s place. He doesn’t have the courage to— Ahem… He is a man of ideals and virtue. Would you like to see his notebook? You should read the page about his ideal woman. It’s amazing.”

Dazai hands Miss Sasaki a notebook. Taken aback, I pat my pockets, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“Dazai! When did you steal that from me?!”

“Here, it’s this page.”

He opens my notebook and points.

“Oh my… Are you sure this is okay?”

“You’re curious, right?”

“Well…in all honesty…yes, I suppose I am slightly curious.”

Miss Sasaki reads the notebook with a bashful smile before slowly turning pale.

“Huh? What does that…? Oh, I see. But this is…”

My ideal woman: a voluminous work consisting of eight pages, fifteen topics, and fifty-eight items.

“Huh?! …Oh, so that means… Hmm… Ohhh…”

I remember what Dazai said: “Never show this to a woman. It’d really turn them off.” When Miss Sasaki lifts her head after reading, her expression is void of any and all joy. The only thing on her face is a chilling, lifeless smile, not unlike a statue’s.

“Detective Kunikida.” “Yes…?”

“People like this don’t exist.”

***

Someone bring me a stiff drink.

***

It’s located in the nation’s capital, Tokyo, the heart of this country where the political and economic central functions intersect.

Foreigners of all races and creeds go in and out of this building—the United States Embassy, the largest foreign territory in Japan. Despite it being the afternoon, the people in the waiting room for general visitors are quietly whiling away the minutes and hours until their turn. They keep silent as if anticipating a judge’s decision, staring off into space as if looking at something only they can see.

A live Major League Baseball game plays on the flat-screen TV installed on the wall, while a middle-aged Caucasian male wearing a black cap lazily criticizes his favorite team for allowing the other to score a run.

I look at Dazai at my side. He’s smiling gleefully. He must be really looking forward to the mission. This is no laughing matter, though.

“Everything ready to go, Kunikida?”

“My stomach already hurts thinking about it. Please don’t mess this up. We could be tried under international law if we aren’t careful.”

“International outlaws… Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? All right, well, here goes nothing!”

“Hey…!”

Stricken with panic, I try to stop him, but he’s already heading over to the information desk. Dazai is wearing a raggedy, patched-up undershirt while I’m dressed in a high-end navy business suit and tie. He stands in front of the embassy worker’s desk and obnoxiously opens his big mouth.

“Hey, you! How much longer do I hafta wait?! I’ve been here for siiix whooole hooours!”

Everybody in the vicinity turns around and stares. The Japanese lady working reception blinks in astonishment.

“I don’t wanna wait anymore! I can’t…! I just can’t take it! Lemme talk to your boss right now!”

Dazai thrashes his arms and legs about as he continues to mouth off to the receptionist. Though this may be part of the mission, it’s painful to watch another adult act this way. I would rather drink poison and die than do that.

“Excuse me… What was it you needed again?” she asks, puzzled. Her handling of the situation is admirable, but she’s outclassed.

“I toldja, didn’t I?! I wanna seek refuge! R-E-F-U-G-E! I’m here for refuge in your honorable nation! But you’re making me wait foreeever! Does that mean you’re refusing my request? Is that it? Missy, you’ve got a lot of nerve making political decisions like this! You’ve got no right!”

“You there! What do you think you’re doing?! Causing a disturbance in the embassy is a serious offense, you know!”

Naturally, the guards at the entrance start rushing toward Dazai. Looks like I’m up.

“Stop right there. That man making a fuss over there is with me. Do you have the authority to arrest him?” I stand before the rushing guards. “Vienna Convention on Consular Relations, article thirty-one, paragraph two! ‘The authorities of the receiving State shall not enter that part of the consular premises that is used exclusively for the purpose of the work of the consular post except with the consent of the head of the consular post or of his designee or of the head of the diplomatic mission of the sending State.’ That man is a guest of the embassy until deemed a hindrance by the consular post. Stopping him without permission could turn this into an international issue!”

My loud rebuke puzzles the guards.

They obviously know the Vienna Convention on Consular Relations by heart, but it’s only natural to flinch when someone screams “international issue” at you.

“Hey, Boss! I need refuuuge! BOSSSSSS!!”

Dazai throws a temper tantrum on the floor in front of the information desk. While it’s a relief knowing the guards can’t stop him, there’s a part of me that wants to forget the mission and kill him.

Now, there’s a reason why the Armed Detective Agency is using a five- year-old’s tactics to attack the embassy, an important, high-toned diplomatic establishment.

“The bomber is from another country?” I ask. We’re back at that same street- side café.

“Yeah, and a pro, at that,” Dazai replies while sipping his coffee. He first pointed this out to me after Miss Sasaki got off the phone with a colleague from her university.

“My college major was criminal psychology. Perhaps I know something that could be of use,” she’d said.

I hear Miss Sasaki is well-known in her community as a criminal psychology researcher. It seems she’s a talented young associate professor whose work has been recognized by several famous academic conferences, which is why she’s been independently scrutinizing similar past crimes detailed in a fellow researcher’s work.

“I contacted a colleague in my field regarding similar cases, but their investigation concluded that there has not been a single bombing incident in Japan that has claimed over a hundred lives as mentioned in the e-mail… Of course, this is excluding those who died in the war.”

“Have there been incidents like this abroad, then?”

“Yes… There have been a few dozen terrorist attacks in other countries, revolving around ideology and political conflict. However, there is little data for these cases that would provide details such as the type of bomb used or the manufacturer… I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any help.”

“No, that’s really good information. This would mean the Azure Apostle knew the composition and structure of the explosive used in those bombings when they made the one to set in Yokohama. I feel like we’re now one step closer to finding our guy, don’t you think?”

“That said, we still haven’t figured out where they hid the bomb. Do you really think we’ll be able to find it in time at this rate?”

At the very least, we need to find out this person’s name and what they look like. There’s no other way to locate the bomb.

Dazai places a thumb on his chin as if deep in thought.

“The bomber is in hiding… There’s no way we’re going to find them,” he suddenly mutters. “…Guess I have to do it myself.”

“Do what?”

“Kunikida, in the e-mail, they said they’d ‘made’ the bomb, right? But can you really make a bomb that could kill hundreds that easily?”

“It wouldn’t be easy for the average person, but someone with extensive knowledge probably wouldn’t have much difficulty.”

Even I have a certain amount of knowledge of hazardous chemicals, since I’m currently pursuing a degree in science and mathematics. Besides, I also work on dangerous jobs at the agency. Chemical production for explosives requires utmost caution, especially in regard to temperature and impact. Even the smallest mistake could cause an unwanted catastrophe. The ingredients themselves, however, are simple and could even be found in an elementary school’s science room. Hydrochloric acid, nitric acid, nitrogen fertilizer, aluminum: All of these can be legally purchased for cheap. The combination ratio, order of procedure, transportation, and technique for detonating the bomb are where things get tricky.

“Some say that each pro has their own recipe, which acts as their brand when they sell their explosives, but…”

“Exactly. That’s why I don’t think it’d be easy to replicate a bomb that was used in some previous terrorist attack.”

“So what you’re saying is…the person who made this bomb is the same person who made the bomb in that incident that killed over a hundred people?”

“Not only that, the way it was described in the e-mail was oddly visually specific, don’t you think?”

I check the e-mail again. “The everlasting flames and blinding corona made it seem as if the sun itself had fallen out of the sky. The buildings fell one after another while innocent people’s skin melted as they struggled to escape. The ground liquefied, and vehicles were knocked into the buildings like spears.”

“This is just speculation on my part, but doesn’t it sound a bit like he’s describing what he saw?”

“What?”

“Miss Sasaki, is there any news footage showing any of the past bombings abroad?”

“No, I’m afraid not. Filming an explosion that large was probably the last thing on the victims’ minds as well.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you, but the e-mail vividly details what just happened minutes after the explosion. Maybe they set the bomb, ran away, and came back after the explosion in time to see all this?”

“In other words, the bomber who killed all those people in the past is the Azure Apostle?”

If that’s the case, then that would narrow down who the criminal might be. We’re looking at a bomb expert who was abroad during that incident and is currently in Japan. But…

“We still don’t have enough information to go by.”

“Why?”

“I suppose I will fill you in, since you decided to skip the meeting. The Public Security Intelligence Agency and military police–affiliated organizations already looked into domestic bomb-making experts, and they didn’t find any suspects. Nobody on the list of Japanese candidates possesses the refined technology needed for high-grade explosives that could kill or injure over one hundred people, nor are there any bomb manufacturer candidates they don’t already have their eye on. Having said that, it’s not like we could go around questioning every non-Japanese person we see.”

“Heh-heh.” Dazai smirks.

“What are you so obnoxiously giddy about?”

“While even the military police come to the famous detective agency for help from time to time, there’s still one directory nobody wants us to see: information held by foreign intelligence agencies. I’m sure they have records on past bombing suspects.”

“A foreign intelligence agency…?”

The most famous intelligence agencies that come to mind are the CIA and NSA in the United States and MI6 in the United Kingdom. They conduct covert operations all around the world for their home countries’ safety and prosperity. However…

“Foreign intelligence agencies aren’t just going to hand over confidential information to private Japanese enterprises. Do you even know anybody working for an intelligence agency in the first place?”

“Nope.”

“I figured.”

“But I know where to meet one.”

—I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

And that’s how our undercover mission at the embassy began. The plan Dazai came up with is simple: One of us makes a scene at the embassy, and if we’re lucky, one of the higher-ups will come over to bring things under control. Then we can talk with that high government official to negotiate. For a secret agent abroad, their home country’s embassy is not only a base but a place of peace and comfort as well. The embassy must have some sort of connection with their country’s secret agents.

While it’s a reckless, aggressive plan, Dazai’s idea sheds a glimmer of hope on a seemingly desperate mission. During our work together, I at times find his wits and critical-thinking skills nothing short of amazing. There is no telling what he’s capable of. I can’t help but feel that hidden behind his eccentric behavior lurks something chilling—a devilish wisdom of some kind.

I have a difficult time believing he’s just some wanderer with no real background. Whenever I try to ask him about his past, he avoids the question. While I refuse to press him for answers, I wonder if he has a dark past. Could he have been in an illegal—?

“Awww, c’mon, lady! Just grant my asylum already! Pretty pleeease? C’mon, don’t look away from me when I’m talkin’ to you! Look at me! Yeah, like that! Keep lookin’ at me like that!”

—No. He’s just an idiot.

“Um… Could you please write your name on the waiting list?” The receptionist timidly pulls out a sheet of paper.

“I’ve already filled out one of those!” Dazai yells. He’s lying, of course. “I even made sure to complete all the parts in fine print with my favorite fountain pen, and I’m still not gettin’ any service. Why d’you think I came here to talk to you, huh?”

He whips out a thick coal-black fountain pen from his breast pocket to show her.

“This fountain pen is the same kind that was used by a Middle Eastern dictator. Pretty cool, huh? You can have a look if you want. Here. It’s long and heavy, so it’s extremely hard to write with. I had to use this to fill out all those little spaces over and over again. You can see why I’m mad now, right?”

It’s your fault for using that pen in the first place!

I keep that thought to myself, though.

“Listen, lady, I’m an author, mmkay? Ever read any of my books? Here, I’ll even make you the protagonist in my next story, so please just lemme speak to one of your higher-ups. I’ll write a book about us committing lovers’ suicide. I’ll even use this pen to write it if you help me defect.”

For a terrible author, he’s becoming curiously good at this acting thing. I get the sense this is how he woos women at pubs.

“C’mon, throw me a bone here. I’m in a lot of trouble. Big trouble! Some scary guys from the PSIA are coming for my neck! Listen, I just write whatever I like, and all I said was that one of the Foreign Affairs ministers was wearing a toupee, and now the authorities are trying to kill me! This is a violation of free speech, and I will not allow the government to abuse their authority! And down with hairpieces!”

“Shut the hell up, will ya?! I’m tryin’ to watch the game here! And what’s your problem with toupees?!” the Caucasian man in the black cap watching the baseball game shouts hoarsely, but it’s going to take more than that to bring Dazai down.

“Hey, I’m not the problem here! It’s the guy who got mad at me for calling him out! If he was gonna get that upset about it, then he shoulda just shown us all his shiny bald pate and been proud of it!”

“E-excuse me, sir? You’re, um, you’re with him, c-correct?” the flustered office worker asks me with pleading eyes. Apologies, but this is all for the greater good.

“I’m his chief editor. While I sympathize with you, as you can see, he’s in no mood to listen. If a civil servant with authority, however, was to come and talk with him directly, I guarantee he’d give up. So do you think you could talk to one of your superiors for me?”

“Okay…”

Drained of energy and in a state of shock, the receptionist nods before staggering to her feet.

“I’ll be right back…with someone to help you…”

She probably feels that she’s done everything she could and just doesn’t want to deal with Dazai anymore. I don’t blame her. I truly pity the woman.

After waiting for a short while, she returns and waves Dazai and me into another room.

“This way, please.”

***

“You’re making things really difficult for me, you know?”

We’re taken to a diplomatic reception room where a bald Caucasian diplomat appears to have been waiting for us. The business card handed to us says he’s a third attaché. Not a bad catch. But it’s not enough. He isn’t ranked high enough to know intelligence-agency secrets, which means only one thing: This is where the real mission starts.

“I completely understand, sir.”

I lower my head. To someone from a different culture, bowing might confuse them, but it’s surely not going to make them feel better.

“Never in my career have I ever heard of someone seeking political asylum from a country as peaceful as this one. I could contact our State Department, but I know the answer is going to be no. Therefore—”

“Oh, I don’t care about that anymore. Sorry for the trouble. I mean, I really appreciate you taking the time to speak with us, but to tell the truth, I’m not actually an author.”

I take out a black notebook with gold-framed letters.

“We’re with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department’s Public Security Bureau.”

“S-security…police…?” the attaché asks in astonishment.

I don’t blame him. The situation is a lot more serious when you believe you’re talking to the recipient country’s security police.

“Due to the circumstances, we needed to take an unconventional route in establishing contact. However, this notebook should serve as proof that we are who we say we are.”

I hold up my police notebook with the words PUBLIC SECURITY BUREAU written in gold on the black cover. Inside sits my picture beside my division’s name. The attaché opens my notebook and compares the picture to me. Of course, it’s a fake I created with my skill, The Matchless Poet, but it appears every bit as real as an official one. Therefore, he has no way of knowing just by looking at it that we’re lying.

—But what happens next determines whether we’re in the clear.

“For certain reasons, we must secretly obtain information possessed by your country’s intelligence agency. We would like for you to provide data on bomb engineering specialists within Japan. This is an issue of national security, so we need to be quick.”

In one breath, I deliver the whole monologue I memorized prior to our arrival.

“Th-this is absurd.”

“I know it’s a lot to ask.” I double down. “If you do not possess the information we need, then could you introduce us to someone who does?”

“There are indeed people from the intelligence agency who come here, but… This is not quite that simple.”

“This is a time-sensitive matter. The lives of at least a hundred innocent people are on the line.”

The attaché turns pale the moment he hears that people could die. He seems like a good person.

“P-please give me a moment.”

Sweating profusely in fear, he picks up the telephone and calls someone. Speaking in almost a whisper, he argues with them for a while, then hangs up before facing us again.

“Oh, thank goodness,” the attaché says with a smile. “We usually cannot accept such requests, but…”

I internally let out a sigh of relief, thrilled with how perfect things seem to be going.

“Thank you very much.”

“I spoke with the secretary on the phone, and she told me that my boss just happens to be having a meal with the Public Security Bureau’s director right now. My boss probably won’t be able to refuse a request from someone so high up. Phew. Thank goodness.”

“…What?”

“Your boss should be here in around ten minutes. Please make yourselves at home until then.”

He wipes the sweat off his forehead, a relieved smile on his face.

……This isn’t good. This is not good at all.

The Public Security Bureau’s director has the same amount of authority as the chief of the Metropolitan Police, but he probably doesn’t even have a clue about the bomb threat. Even if he did, he would never agree to go along with a scheme—let alone one by imposters—to steal confidential information from a foreign intelligence agency, especially when we still have no way to prove a bomb even exists.

“No, we… That wouldn’t be good.”

“Hmm? Oh, don’t worry about a thing. The intelligence agency surely wouldn’t ignore a request from someone as important as the Public Security Bureau’s director. So please make yourselves at home. I insist.”

What are we going to do? This entire mission will have been for nothing if the director shows up.

“That really wouldn’t be good. Because… Uh…” The attaché stares back at me in befuddlement.

“The director cannot come here…for various reasons.”

“Are you sure? What reasons would that be?”

Damn it. I’m terrible at improvising.

“He’s…very busy right now. He has a lot to do.”

“I am sure he is quite busy, but they told me on the phone he could come and that it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Yes, that’s not what I meant, though. While he claims it wouldn’t be a problem, he has…many errands.”

“…?”

“Like…meeting an acquaintance who he’ll end up chatting with for hours, going to the public office to turn in some documents, going to the store to pick up some dog food…”

“What is he, a housewife?” He tilts his head to the side, puzzled.

Ugh.

I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore.

“A-anyway, we cannot let the director know any of this.”

“Do you mean…you came here without telling him?”

“No, we, uh— Well…yes. Yes we did.”

“That’s certainly no good. Why didn’t you tell him?”

“We forgot.”

“You forgot?!” He’s completely dumbfounded.

“Yes, we… We were in a hurry, since it’s an emergency, so we forgot to call him. So, you know, it was a state of emergency…so we forgot to call him.”

“Was there a reason why you said it twice?”

“I have already told you all I’m permitted to say. Anyway, just bring us an intelligence operative to speak with!”

Because the more I talk, the deeper this hole gets!

“You do realize what you’re asking from me, yes? The whereabouts of our intelligence operatives are secret. An explanation like the one you gave isn’t—”

“Yeesh… Guess I’ve got no choice, then.” Dazai heaves a sigh, then leans in. “First, I apologize for my inarticulate subordinate. Allow me to explain, sir. We had no choice but to come here in secret. There’s a mole in the Public Security Bureau who’s feeding information to the bomber, and we have reason to believe he’s a close adviser to the director.”

“What?”

“We’re working with internal investigators to identify the criminal and the mole leaking intel, which is why we had to come undercover. We fear the mole may detonate the bomb if they figure out we’re meeting with the director. So before that happens, we must find where this bomb is hidden.”

The attaché’s face turns pale. “Th-that certainly is a serious problem. You should have just said so,” he says, glancing at me.

“The reason my colleague didn’t say anything was because he was afraid of a leak. He may be a terrible liar, but he does it to protect confidential information. If you were in our shoes, would you just casually tell the police that your boss might be a mole?”

“You have a point…” He nods in agreement.

“Fortunately, we are close to figuring out who our bomber is. He was the mastermind behind a large-scale terrorist bombing overseas sometime in the past. This is an important investigation for the national security of your country, one which also protects the world from terrorists. With the help of your intelligence agency, I want to clean the streets of these antiestablishment incendiaries hiding in the system. So could I ask for your cooperation?”

“Very well. I am at your service.”

Dazai……… That was… That was amazing…

“Come with me, please.”

The attaché hastily stands and motions us to follow.

He takes us to a private office in the embassy’s basement and, his expression tense, asks us to wait here. Dazai and I are the only ones left in the room.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop picking on my attaché. He’s a really good person. In fact, that’s all he is.”

A familiar middle-aged man eventually walks into the office.

“You’re… You’re the man who was watching baseball in the waiting room… You’re the US intelligence operative?”

It’s the same middle-aged Caucasian man in the black cap who had been idly watching the ball game on TV earlier.

“My ID says I’m the office janitor, though.”

He grabs the name tag on his chest and shows us.

“So what are two busy detectives from the Armed Detective Agency doing here?”

Dazai and I exchange glances. “You knew?”

“It’s my job to gather information on issues occurring in this country, and when an organization of skill users starts making a fuss first thing in the morning, you can bet word has already reached halfway around the world. We’ve had our eye on you ever since you walked into the embassy.”

It seems the omniscience of intelligence agencies isn’t limited to movies and novels after all.

“We’re looking for the person who set a bomb in the city. They’re also responsible for a similar bombing overseas that claimed the lives of over a hundred people. Is there anyone like that in your records? The offender said, ‘The everlasting flames and blinding corona made it seem as if the sun itself had fallen out of the sky,’ and—”

“Oh… I figured it was him.” The intelligence operative shakes his head. “You know who’s behind this?”

“‘An everlasting fire and blinding white light’ sounds just like Alamta and his aluminum powder–based explosives. Here’s his file.”

The intelligence operative pulls out a stack of papers from within the cabinet.

“A man of Japanese descent, Zadkiel Alamta was a bomb purveyor for a Middle Eastern terrorist organization. We’ve been keeping tabs on him ever since he entered the country a year ago.”

“Without even telling the authorities in Japan?” I retort as I pore over the documents.

“We had our reasons. We wanted to capture him ourselves. Not only is he a bomber, he also sells explosives to terrorists of the same trade. If only we had his list of customers, we could arrest countless anti-American terrorists.”

I flip through the pages where I see Alamta’s photograph and the details of his past crimes.

“There honestly couldn’t be a worse bomb composition.” I tightly clench my jaw.

“There are going to be a lot more than a hundred dead if this thing goes off in Yokohama.”

Alamta specializes in railroad car bombs that contain a mixture of aluminum powder in slurry explosives. After placing a few hundred pounds of explosives in the passenger car, he lights the fuse remotely using a small electronic transmitter, such as a cell phone. He uses ammonium nitrate as his main raw material and acetone peroxide as an auxiliary material. Both ingredients are cheap, so bombs can be manufactured in high volumes.

Judging by the composition detailed in the documents, anyone within a radius of about 650 feet of the blast would die instantly, and people out of range would be showered in the liquefied aluminum and exposed to the extreme temperatures from the blast wave.

The only reason Alamta uses aluminum is to make sure he kills as many people as possible. Aluminum is a combustion promoter, which emits a blinding white light and increases the intensity of the explosive flames when it burns. Simultaneously, the blast waves would carry it, creating a cloud of extremely hot dust reaching over a thousand degrees Fahrenheit, which could burn the flesh right off a human body. To make matters worse, aluminum reacts with water to create a flammable hydrogen gas, meaning any contact with water would make more fire. Therefore, using the water from a fire hydrant to put out the blaze would only worsen it, making rescue operations difficult.

“The everlasting flames and blinding corona made it seem as if the sun itself had fallen out of the sky.” He wasn’t exaggerating. The bomb is as dreadful as it sounds. If a bomb goes off in a densely populated place in the city, casualties could exceed a thousand when considering secondary disasters such as blackouts and other fatal accidents. Moreover, a train bomb could easily sneak past the police and into the city. We absolutely cannot allow it to be detonated in Yokohama.

“Where is Alamta right now?”

“He threw my colleague off his trail and went into hiding two days ago. We figured he was getting ready to do something.”

Damn it. It looks like we’ll have to start searching for Alamta before we can find the bomb. I guess learning the bomber’s name and background is a step forward, though. It is highly likely that Alamta and the Azure Apostle are one and the same. However, it’s still unclear why he would threaten the detective agency. If he does have a grudge against us, then perhaps looking into the agency’s past solved cases could lead to some clues.

“So, Mr. Spy, what do you want in return for this information?” Dazai chimes in with a chuckle.

“Nothing. I can’t just sit back and watch hundreds of lives lost, even if they’re another country’s citizens. I am doing this for justice. I’ll gladly provide you with any information you need.”

“Yeah, right. I dunno about Kunikida here, but I’m just a bit more cynical than that,” he replies with a grin. An American intelligence operative’s job is to advance the prosperity and security of his country, after all. The agent ponders in silence for a while before responding.

“…If you catch Alamta, hand him over to us, not the Public Security Bureau. He’s going to give us a list of his customers whether he likes it or not.”

“Hand him over to you?” I knit my brow. “If he truly is behind all this, shouldn’t you be questioning him along with the Japanese authorities?”

“About that, Kunikida. These guys plan on torturing the bomber for information, and with methods so brutal they’re prohibited by international law. See, they wouldn’t be able to use such unethical means if they were to cooperate with another nation’s authorities. That’s why they want to take him into custody without anyone knowing.”

“……”

I look at the agent, who is silent and expressionless. It’s evident he’s not looking to make any excuses. Criminals aren’t the only ones who break the law and violate ethical standards. Nevertheless, a foreign secret intelligence agency won’t change their ways, regardless of how a nobody like myself might feel about it.

“This isn’t an official meeting, and you haven’t leaked any information. Therefore, there is no reason for us to provide anything in return. Come, Dazai; we’re leaving.”

After urging Dazai to get up, I turn on my heel and head for the door.

“Tell the receptionist you’re from Fenimore Transport from now on. They’ll let me know you’re here. Anyway, I’m impressed you were able to make it this far with almost no clues. You have talent. If you’re ever fired from the detective agency, get in touch with me. We could use an agent like you.”

“Wow. What’ll it be, Kunikida?”

“I have no interest in joining an organization that doesn’t bat an eye even after hearing that a terrorist plans on bombing Japan. We’ll be leaving now.”

I depart the office without even waiting for a response. The agent remains silent.

***

Dazai and I return to the detective agency to organize the information from the documents. Approximately two hours remain until sundown. We have to capture the bomber Alamta and force him to tell us where the explosive is… within a mere two hours. We’re not without good news, though. I received some reassuring information when I contacted the agency. The moment I heard the news, I became certain: We can disarm this bomb.

“Ah-ha-ha-ha! You guys would be lost without me!”

I hear his usual boisterous laughter the moment I return to the office. “Ranpo! How did the case in Kyushu go?”

“Oh, that? I took one look at the body and figured out who did it and how.”

The man mirthfully sipping on his drink as he talks is Ranpo Edogawa, a senior colleague.

“I heard what happened, Kunikida. Everyone’s been running in circles over some little bomb, huh? I really wish my colleagues could take care of themselves sometimes. You know, I didn’t even get the chance to sightsee in Kyushu thanks to you. Man, I really wanted to eat some onsen tamago, too.”

“You have my apologies. However, we need your help.”

“My help?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, we were unable to solve this case on our own and are in desperate need of your assistance. I apologize for my incompetence.”

After gazing at me for a few moments, Ranpo lets out a sigh.

“Well…… Ah, fine, I guess I’ll lend you a hand! And there’s nothing to be sorry about, Kunikida. If there’s anyone to blame, it should be me for being too gifted! After all, Super Deduction is the greatest skill in the world, so coming to me for help is only natural!” With a boisterous laugh, he pats me on the shoulder.

“You are absolutely right.” I wholeheartedly agree.

“K-Kunikida, are you okay? You don’t have to hold it in,” Dazai timidly says. Hold what in…? What is he talking about? I’m perfectly fine.

“Dazai, give Ranpo the files.”

“Oh, sure. Hey, I’m the new guy, Osamu Dazai. Nice to meet you.”

“Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m counting on you to find a good case. I’ll be the one to solve it, of course.”

Ranpo’s eyes are locked on Dazai as he takes the documents.

“So, newbie. Uh…Dazai, was it? Where did you work prior to coming here?”

“Hmm?”

Ranpo’s expression has faded, his eyes peering into Dazai’s as if he is searching for something.

“I didn’t really do anything after finishing school. Was just kinda around, you know?”

A few seconds go by as Ranpo silently stares at Dazai.

Finally…

“Oh, that’s nice. Anyway, welcome to the agency.”

And that’s it. He begins laying out the documents across the desk as if nothing happened. What was that just now?

“Dazai, what was that about?”

“Don’t ask me… By the way, what kind of skill user is Ranpo?”

Oh, right, I still haven’t explained it to him yet.

“Ranpo’s Super Deduction gives him the incredible ability to deduce the truth about a case just by looking at it.”

“What?! Is there really a skill like that?!” It seems even Dazai can hardly believe it.

“Yes, and there are a lot of important people in the police and government officials who come to Ranpo every time they need help with a difficult case. His skill is what keeps this detective agency in business.”

“I dunno, it’s just hard to believe a skill like that actually exists.” He doesn’t appear convinced.

“You’ll believe it when you see it.”

“Kunikida! Do you just need to know where the bomb is?”

“Yes. We’re almost out of time. Finding that bomb is our top priority. We’ll be able to disarm it if we know where it is.”

“So I don’t need to find this Alamta fellow, yes?”

“The bomb comes first.”

“Okay, then let’s get started! Ha-ha-ha! Sorry, everybody, it looks like your assistance won’t be needed anymore now that I’m on the case. Dazai, hand me those glasses.”

Ranpo puts on the black-framed glasses that Dazai hands him. Putting them on is apparently needed to activate his skill. His eyes sharpen into a radiant gaze that could pierce through all of nature, and his mind becomes an oracle of the gods.

Super Deduction.

“… I’ve got it.” Ranpo sets his glasses down.

“Wait. Seriously?”

Dazai, standing behind Ranpo, holds his breath as he leans forward in curiosity.

“Map.”

Ranpo points. I get the large map of Yokohama from the bookshelf, then spread it out over the desk. Where did this maniac—an apostle of panic and fear—hide this weapon of pure evil and mass destruction? At a train station? A major hospital? A school? Perhaps a skyscraper, even? Or is it at city hall? What about a shopping mall? The worst-case scenarios pop into my mind, one after another.

“The bomb is…”

I wait with bated breath as Ranpo lowers his finger over the map.

“…right here. This fishing-gear shop.”

……………………………What?

A fishing-gear shop?

I must be hearing things. Perhaps there’s a secret facility here? Or maybe they deal in illegal goods?

“…I see,” Dazai mutters to himself after a few moments go by. “That’s it… That’s it! Ranpo’s skill is real! If you’re going to set a bomb, this fishing-gear shop is the only place that makes sense! Kunikida, we have to hurry!”

“I see the new guy’s blown away by how amazing I am.”

“I am! That was incredible! You are without a doubt an extraordinary detective! I’m so glad I joined this agency! Now come on! We don’t have time to waste, Kunikida! We’ll be able to make it before sundown if we leave now!”

“But, Dazai, I…”

“I’ll explain on the way! Hurry!”

“Good luck, you two!”

With Dazai dragging me by the sleeve, I reluctantly leave the detective agency behind.

***

We get into the company car and head straight toward the fishing-gear shop.

Since I prefer not to ride in a murder box on wheels, I decide to drive. “Now tell me what’s going on, Dazai,” I say to him.

“Sure, I’ll explain, but you’re not doubting Ranpo’s deduction, right?”

“If Ranpo says the bomb is in the fishing-gear shop, then it’s in the fishing-gear shop. I still don’t get why you believed him, though.”

Ranpo has the ability to see the truth, and his Super Deduction has never let us down. But there’s something bugging me about Dazai being so easily convinced.

“It’s simple when you look at the map.”

I visualize the map in my head. The only things around the fishing-gear shop are roads, corporate facilities, and small shops. While there would be a fair number of victims, it lacks the viciousness one would expect from an international terrorist.

“Stop testing me. I have plenty of other things I need to think about. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I thought about it after checking out the files we had on Alamta. He’s been behind multiple large-scale bombings around the world, but he never bombs the same place twice. He’s already bombed a luxury hotel packed with tourists, a military communications office, and a skyscraper’s support beams. He always chooses an area that would produce the most damage to his target. So what area is he targeting this time?”

“Quit playing games and tell me.”

“Alamta’s target is…the oil storage facilities.”

A bolt of lightning shoots down my spine as if I’ve been hit in the head with a hammer.

The petroleum complex in Yokohama!

How did I not think of that? Yokohama, Japan’s most prominent port city, is the largest hub for transporting fuel by sea. There is a sizable plot of land at the port with numerous facilities that store oil and natural gas. Day and night, enormous amounts of fuel are carried out from those facilities to support industries throughout the Kanto region. Furthermore, the complex is surrounded by factories that use petrochemical-based materials, steel production factories, and petroleum production factories. If an explosion was to happen around the petroleum complex and the storage tanks caught fire, then the entire port would be engulfed in flames before long. The fire would most likely last for days, resulting in the worst industrial disaster this country has ever seen. Petrochemical fires are difficult to put out with water, which would even further prolong the destruction done. Not only would human lives be lost, but the domestic economy would suffer immeasurable damage as well.

“I see. So you were so impressed with Ranpo because of how accurate his deduction was.”

“No, that’s not why.”

What?

“What amazed me was neither the novel idea of targeting an oil storage facility nor Ranpo’s skill.”

“Then what was it?”

“Heh-heh. What surprised me the most was the fact that Ranpo’s ‘Skill’ isn’t actually a skill at all.”

…Huh?

“Don’t be ridiculous. As if someone without a skill could really do something like that.”

“That’s what makes it so amazing! Listen to this. When Ranpo was thinking, I sneaked up behind him and pinched some of his hair.”

“What?”

Dazai was indeed standing behind Ranpo the entire time, now that I think about it. But when did he—?

“As you know, I can nullify people’s abilities just by touching them. I guess you could call me an anti-skill user. As long as I’m touching someone—no matter how powerful they may be—they will be unable to use their skill. So what I’m trying to say is…”

Ranpo’s Super Deduction isn’t a skill?

“Then that means—”

“It’s just simple deduction. He reached a theoretical conclusion in the blink of an eye based on his own observations and inferences. He linked his knowledge on disasters, the files on Alamta, and the map of Yokohama to come to a conclusion in a matter of seconds. It was like I was watching a great detective from a novel find out who was behind the crime— Wait. No, it was more like watching the famous detective at the end of a novel after solving all the cases. Without leaving the building or meeting the suspect, Ranpo figured out where the bomb was simply by glancing at the files we gave him. He possesses tremendous deductive and observational skills that your average fictional detective could only dream of.”

Deduction? What he’s doing is not a skill or a supernatural phenomenon but purely the product of thought?

“But is that even possible? I mean, how…?”

“That’s what impressed me. A skill would make this just another phenomenon, which wouldn’t even be surprising, let alone impressive. But Ranpo is utilizing his brain, something we all have, to reach these conclusions. So Alamta disappeared two days ago, thus probably not having enough time to obtain a permit to get into the oil storage facilities or disguise himself as a worker there. The easiest thing he could’ve done was use cash to rent a car, store the bomb in it, park it somewhere near the oil storage facilities, and leave it there. If the explosive’s effective casualty range is around six hundred fifty feet, then that would leave within that range only the shops that have an oil storage tank, and the only place at the port that meets these conditions is…”

“The fishing-gear shop.”

“Exactly. Of course, things like wind direction and how difficult it would be to discover the bomb are also factors, but… Wow! I still can’t believe how Ranpo figured that out just by looking at the documents we gave him. That guy’s got some serious powers of deduction and observation! And even Ranpo himself seems to think he’s using a skill. Man, that is one amazing detective. I need to start applying myself more.”

I finally understand why Dazai was so impressed. No matter how divine it may be, a skill is nothing more than a bewildering phenomenon. However, things are different if these powers of deduction are something the person possesses on their own. Ranpo has solved far more than a few dozen cases in the past, to say the least, and he solved them in an instant with only a small amount of information. Not once has he been wrong. Calling what he does a superhuman feat still wouldn’t be enough to illustrate how unbelievable it truly is—an ability that surpasses all skills. I could only describe it as a divine skill rarely seen in Japan—no, in the entire world.

Still, though…

I look over at Dazai in the passenger seat.

“I’ve never seen you marvel over someone else’s skills like that before.”

“Huh? Really? Lots of things take me by surprise. Like, once, I tried to pick up a clam with my chopsticks, and it was still alive. I was so startled, I nearly—”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. You seemed taken aback that someone had the ability to see and know all.”

For someone so full of eccentricities, there is something about his behavior that makes it seem as if he has an unobstructed view of the world. I don’t know exactly why, but all his emotions strike me as an act to some degree. Is he just playing dumb? Could there be more to him than he’s letting on, lurking behind his ambiguous mannerisms?

“I guess. But you, Kunikida, I’ve got a good idea of who you are now, so nothing you do will ever surprise me. I mean, compared with me, you’re just a simple man with a simple mind, after all.”

“What did you just say?!”

“See? You wear your heart on your sleeve. You don’t hide how you’re really feeling. It’s nice. You know what else is nice? Just knowing that you’re going to be worrying later to yourself, ‘Am I really that simple?’”

“Why, you—”

But I refrain from arguing. Whatever my response, he’s just going to end up telling me,

“I knew you’d say that.”

“One day, you will be amazed by what I am capable of, and I guarantee you won’t see it coming.”

“I’m looking forward to it. I’ll take you out for a drink if you end up surprising me.”

“All right, it’s a deal. You better not forget.”

“I won’t. Besides, I’ve got nothing to lose either way. Oh, look, I can see the fishing-gear shop.”

I slow down the car and park on the side of the street where I can see the shop.

***

After getting out of the car, I observe the store. Only an hour remains before sundown. We should have the bomb disarmed in time as long as nothing goes wrong.

“Any idea what kind of car we’re looking for?”

“It’s simple, really. Just look for a large commercial vehicle with tinted windows to keep people from seeing inside.”

I park the company car slightly away, then carefully approach the shop. I cannot deny the possibility that there might be armed personnel hiding somewhere in order to protect the bomb.

The fishing-gear shop seems to be closed for the day, so only a few cars sparsely occupy the parking lot, which could fit a little over ten vehicles. There’s no sign of anyone in the parking area, and the slope on the west side leaves the whole place dim. I turn my head until I find a bunch of tall oil storage tanks behind me reaching out as far as the port itself. The closest tank is only around three hundred feet away from me. If the parking lot was to be blown up, the hellish flames would undoubtedly spread across every tank with ease.

“Kunikida, check that car out.”

I face the direction Dazai is pointing in, where I find a small white commercial vehicle parked with a rental car plate. The tinted windows are visible even from afar. Furthermore, the car seems to be sitting lower than the others even though nobody is inside, which suggests it’s not totally empty. I jot WIRELESS JAMMER down in my notebook before tearing the page out and focusing. Then the sheet of paper instantly transforms into a handheld wave inhibitor.

“Dazai, place this by the vehicle but keep your eye out for booby traps. I’m going to search the vicinity.”

The jammer bears a strong resemblance to a cell phone. However, this device can intervene with radio channels, making nearby wireless devices unable to communicate with one another. It has an effective radius of around fifteen feet. The bomber won’t be able to remotely detonate the bomb with this nearby.

I grip my gun while scouting around the parking area. I keep my guard up, but there are no signs of any snipers or enemies waiting to ambush. Instead, I find two recording devices hidden in the grass. One camera is the same type we found at the abandoned hospital, while the other is a smaller wireless type. This only further confirms that the bomb is here.

Suddenly, I hear people’s voices and lift my head.

—What’s going on?

People have started to gather on the other side of the road. Around ten people appear to be surrounding something, their faces clouded with worry. I have a bad feeling about this. After hiding my gun, I approach the crowd.

Then I cut my way through to get a look at the cause of all this fuss.

My breath catches in my throat. There’s something there that shouldn’t be.

It’s Alamta’s body.

“Hey, Kunikida, I placed the jammer by the car. What do you want me to—?”

Dazai calls out to me from over my shoulder, but even he finds himself at a loss for words at the sight.

Why is this guy here? Why is he dead?

I approach the corpse. There are no signs of hypostasis and no postmortem rigidity in the chin. He is still warm under the arms. It’s evident that he was killed only moments ago—murdered right before we arrived. Not only that, but there are no visible wounds on the body. Nor are there any external changes that might indicate how he died. Instead, countless black symbols appear on his skin, covering his body like blemishes: ‘00.’ Two zeros? Are these tattoos? Or could this be—?

“Kunikida, the military’s bomb squad will be here soon. Let’s let them handle the technical stuff and get out of here.” Dazai places a hand on my shoulder.

“……Okay.”

I checked Alamta’s belongings, but all he had was some change and a fake license—nothing of use. And with the mystery left unsolved, Dazai and I plow through the growing crowd of spectators and leave the scene.

***

I ruminate behind the wheel of the company car.

Why did Alamta have to die?

And who wanted him dead?

“Kunikida, I get that thinking is important, but make sure to watch where you’re driving, too, okay?” Dazai says from the passenger seat.

“I know,” I tell him as I grip the steering wheel.

This situation needs analyzing. On the surface, there are but two cases here: the Yokohama kidnappings and the bomber. The perpetrators were the taxi driver and Alamta, respectively. That much is clear. But there’s another common motive between these two cases: damaging the detective agency’s name by releasing to the public footage of our failure to save the victims. The cabdriver and Alamta are most likely not involved with this goal, though. Someone must have been manipulating them from behind the scenes.

That someone is the Azure Apostle.

This person manipulated both the taxi driver and Alamta and made them the perpetrators. And just like that, the Azure Apostle attacked the detective agency without getting their own hands dirty by making it look like the other two committed these crimes of their own accord.

Attacking them is next to impossible, since they gave so few orders and simply let the perpetrators do as they pleased. Both the cabdriver and the bomber committed the crimes on their own turf in their own way. Perhaps they didn’t even realize they were being used as pawns. If we don’t stop the one behind all this, then it won’t be long before we are attacked for a third time, something the agency might not be able to handle. The clues we have are next to nothing, though, which leaves me puzzled as to how we’re going to find this mastermind.

There’s one more thing I’m worried about. What is the Azure Apostle going to be charged with? The only crimes they’ve committed are secretly videoing and threatening us. They didn’t kill anybody or blow up anything, and our chances of building a case to get them charged for instigating murder and kidnapping are extremely slim. Should I just hope the Azure Apostle accidentally left some evidence behind at the scene of the crime? And yet—

That’s when my cell phone begins to ring. It’s the detective agency’s president. I pull over on the side of the road and press the call button.

“Kunikida, my informant in the military just contacted me. The taxi driver… He’s dead.”

What?!

“But wasn’t he midflight on one of the military police’s aircrafts?”

“He was. During questioning, he suddenly began suffering intense pain and passed not long after. His cause of death is unknown, but I was told two black zeros started to surface all over his body… Get back to the agency and let’s go carefully over the situation.”

The phone clicks. My head is swimming with questions.

Our sole path to the Azure Apostle has been cut. The only clue we had to

locate this person was to find out who taught that driver about the organ trade, but those tracks died along with him. It’s almost as if the Azure Apostle is watching us, always one step ahead. Alamta was killed right before we arrived at the scene, and now the cabdriver, our last hope, is gone as well. Just who is this person? The enemy is somebody who knows everything about the detective agency’s investigation and every move we make. Somebody who can constantly tamper with the scene of the crime and manipulate the situation from afar.

“You okay, Kunikida? You look real tense.”

I don’t even have a moment to respond. How is the enemy getting inside info? How are they always a step ahead of the detective agency? My cell phone rings once more, interrupting my train of thought. It’s Rokuzo.

“Hey, Four-Eyes. Got a moment?”

“What is it?”

“It’s… It’s about the e-mail you asked me to trace. I did it.”

“What?!”

That’s it. The sender of that threatening e-mail said their name was the Azure Apostle, and they gave orders to investigate the kidnapping and bombing. If we can find out where that e-mail came from…

“I’ll cut to the chase. Both e-mails came from the same computer, which was heavily protected. But hey, I was able to break through. Anyway—”

“Who’re you talking to, Kunikida?”

I raise my hand, cutting Dazai off. “Go on.”

“All you asked me to do was trace the e-mail, so don’t come to me with questions about what it means, okay? ’Cause I ain’t gonna know. So with that in mind—”

“Get on with it.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll tell ya. So…those e-mails were sent from inside the detective agency…from the computer of the new guy—Dazai.”

Come again?

My brain freezes over, my mind completely blank.

This can’t be. It has to be some sort of trap. Dazai’s been with me the entire time investigating the…

—The enemy is somebody who knows everything about the detective agency’s investigation and every move we make. Somebody who can constantly tamper with the scene of the crime and manipulate the situation from afar.

“I’ll call you back.” I hang up the phone.

“What was that about? It sounded like you were talking to Rokuzo.”

“Just shut up for a moment.”

My thoughts are scattered.

Dazai. Osamu Dazai, a newcomer at the detective agency who popped up out of nowhere.

This sequence of events started after he showed up.

“I asked a close acquaintance in the military’s intelligence department to do a background check on him, but eerily, they found nothing.

“It’s as if someone very carefully wiped his background clean.”

The poison gas at the abandoned hospital was triggered when Dazai touched the trap while we were trying to save the kidnapped victims…and yet, for some reason, he wasn’t in any of the released footage.

How was he able to stay clear of the cameras?

A clever and cautious string puller, the Azure Apostle never soils their own hands.

Someone of considerable intellect, whose acting abilities could deceive even embassy staff, with knowledge of the organ trade…

I start the car engine and begin driving again.

“Dazai.”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go for a drive.”

***

I turn the steering wheel, entering a deserted mountain path and continuing down it until we reach an old abandoned storehouse.

“What’s this?” Dazai asks while looking at the storage shed.

“It’s a storehouse I used for work once. At one time, it was used for industrial materials, but it was abandoned after the company moved overseas. Nobody comes here anymore, which makes it the perfect place to discuss things in private.”

“Oh, great.”

A lukewarm reply. I drive inside the storehouse and park. Since the building still has all four walls, I don’t have to worry about being watched, and I would be able to hear any reinforcements should they come.

“Get out.”

Without a word, Dazai gets out of the car. Before I do the same, I open my automatic pistol’s magazine to make sure it’s loaded. Then, after writing in my notebook, I exit the vehicle as well.

“Gee, it sure is quiet here. Definitely the perfect place if you ever wanted to talk in secret. So why are we—?”

I point the pistol at Dazai.

“…What’s the gun for?”

“Take a guess.”

“Hold on, Kunikida. I thought you hated jokes like this.”

“I do. But this isn’t a joke.”

“This must have something to do with that phone call, right? Well, whatever you heard, I’m sure it’s all some kind of misunderstanding. I’d be able to explain myself if you just told me what he said.”

“I hope so.” I tighten my finger around the trigger. “When the victims at the abandoned hospital were gassed, you were somehow able to avoid showing your face in the footage. Why is that?”

“That’s it?” Dazai looks troubled. “I just happened to see the surveillance equipment when I walked into the room. I was going to tell you, but we found the victims almost immediately after, so I didn’t get the chance. That’s why I didn’t say anything. I apologize—”

“Really? Are you sure you didn’t know where the cameras were and what they were for from the start?” I continue to press him. “Next question. You were the one who suggested we go to the embassy in order to find the bomber. How were you able to come up with that idea so quickly? Was it because you knew about Alamta beforehand, perhaps?”

“Oh, come on. You’re joking, right? You should be praising me for my acumen, not doubting me. Is that what all this is about?”

“Where did you learn about the organ-trafficking syndicate?”

“That’s… Listen, I told you already. I was at the pub…”

“You can’t come up with a better lie than that? Was it just a coincidence that you ran into Chief Taneda, head of the Special Division for Unusual Powers?”

“W-wait! C’mon, Kunikida. Could you put the gun down? I’ll tell you everything after you do that.”

“Why were the Azure Apostle’s e-mails sent from your computer?! Answer me!” I yell, cocking the pistol’s hammer.

Dazai’s face goes blank.

“I see. So that’s what Rokuzo told you on the phone, huh? He’s a real talented kid… I’m sure he’ll make a great detective one day.” His tone is flat, his face void of all emotion.

Thinking back, there was always something enigmatic about Dazai. While he struck me as an eccentric, he also perfectly expressed the kinds of schemes and knowledge necessary to influence others. Just as his excellent acting at the embassy fooled everybody, who’s to say that this Dazai persona isn’t just an act as well?

“Convince me of your innocence right now, or I’ll shoot.”

“You can’t shoot me.” He shakes his head. “You’re conscientious and an idealist. You unravel all the mysteries, get the criminal to confess, then arrest them and have them tried by the law. That’s what’s ideal to you. You would never kill the suspect somewhere like this while the truth is still up in the air.”

“The law is powerless against the Azure Apostle.” Even if I demand he be prosecuted, there’s no case against someone who didn’t kill or kidnap anybody, let alone instigate another to do so. It’s a lost cause. “I’ll shoot if that’s what must be done.”

—“If you sense any signs of wickedness in his heart, shoot him.”

The president’s words… The heavy pistol I was entrusted with…

—“Do what must be done.”

“Kunikida, hypothetically speaking, let’s say I am the Azure Apostle, and let’s say your ideals dictate that you should hurry up and kill me… Even then, you still couldn’t shoot me.”

There’s a cold-blooded, inhuman glow in his eyes, as if he can see right through everything—as if he knows all.

“Think back to when you found Alamta’s body. All he had on him was some change and a fake license, which begs the question: What happened to the detonator?”

The detonator could be used to wirelessly set off the bomb, but there’s no threat without it.

“Whoever’s really behind all this has it.”

“Exactly. And what if that person knew every move the detective agency was making? And what if that person knew that the detective agency figured out where the bomb was? Don’t you think they would have moved the bomb or prepared a spare?”

The next thing I know, Dazai’s right hand is in his overcoat pocket. I’m not able to check if he’s holding something from where I’m standing, though. Is he insinuating that there’s still a bomb out there and that he has the detonator to it? Is that why he said I couldn’t shoot him?

—How naive.

“I suspected as much, which is why I came prepared. Take a look at this.” I take this out of my breast pocket before placing it on the ground. “It’s a wireless jammer just like the one I used before. No wireless devices can be used within fifteen feet of me. A detonator is no exception.”

“Wha—?” Dazai’s expression is overcome with surprise. My gun still aimed at him, I stick my hand into his pocket and feel something, then pull it out. It’s a fountain pen and a blue cloth.

“Looks like I couldn’t fool you. Too bad it’s just an ordinary fountain pen.” Dazai cheerfully grins. It’s the same pen he showed the receptionist at the embassy, the one he claimed was his favorite or something.

“Anyone else would have believed you, but it’s going to take a little more than that to fool your partner.”

I unscrew the pen top and take it off, revealing not an ink cartridge but a long, thin electrical device with an exposed circuit. It’s a small transceiver.

“Is this the detonator?”

“…I’m impressed, Kunikida. Nothing gets by you, does it? Incredible.” His smile is cold, inhuman. “I’m so glad you were my partner.”

Those words have me boiling.

“Shut up!”

I point the pistol down and shoot, sending a bullet into the floor by his feet. Dazai doesn’t even bat an eye.

“What do you want?! Why did you threaten the detective agency?! What was the point of killing the missing people and setting the bomb?! You… You were…”

You were so talented.

I couldn’t have asked for a better partner.

“This is my final warning. Tell me everything, or I’ll shoot.”

Who is he? Who is the Azure Apostle? He has others do his bidding before disposing of them without so much as lifting a finger…all while getting the victims involved as well.

Kill the criminal—

—“Then let us realize an ideal world…”

—“Not by the hand of a god but by our own imperfect bloodstained hands.”

It can’t be.

I glance at the blue cloth I swiped from Dazai’s pocket. Have I seen something like this recently?

—“I heard they never found the Azure King’s body, either.”

—“What if he faked his death to escape and is now in hiding somewhere?”

We know who the Azure King was. He used to be a high-ranking government official. However, changing one’s face or background isn’t impossible with the help of a specialist. Even fooling the military police’s forensics unit and faking one’s death isn’t entirely unfathomable. Could it be that…?

—“We looked into his past but found nothing. It’s completely blank.”

Then could Dazai be…?

“Are you— Are you the Azure King? Was this grand scheme of yours all just to get back at the detective agency?”

“Shoot me.”

He grins mirthfully from ear to ear. There’s tranquility in his smile.

“You win, Kunikida. Shoot me. You must have received orders to, yes? This is how it should be, and you have every right to.”

“What do you mean I have ‘Every right’?!”

“I wouldn’t mind being shot by you.”

No. This isn’t what I want. I want to hear the truth. I want Dazai to tell me the truth.

—“However, if you sense any signs of wickedness in his heart…”

No. I must find the truth.

—“Shoot him.”

‘I wouldn’t mind being shot by you’? I see.

It all makes sense now.

“Understood.”

I lift the pistol, aligning the sight just between his eyebrows. Tucking my arms in, I close one eye while carefully aiming. There is no way to miss from this distance.

“I’m going to shoot, Dazai. I’m really going to do it, so if you’re going to panic, you better start now.”

His peaceful smile never once wavers.

“Shoot me,” he says.

There is no longer any hesitation in his words. I bend my index finger around the trigger, and a bullet spits out of the muzzle.

The bullet tears through the air until it hits him right between the eyes. Dazai’s head flies back, causing his spine to arch backward. Knocked off his feet, he flies into the air and then—

—he hits the ground.

I lower my pistol. White gunpowder faintly drifts from the muzzle.

“……”

Perfect accuracy: The bullet hit him right in the middle of his skull. There was no way I’d miss this close. After putting the safety back on, I check the pistol to make sure there won’t be any misfires before returning the weapon to my pocket. I crush the fountain pen–shaped detonator in my hand, bending and twisting it until it can no longer function.

I have to think about my next move. I begin to walk back to the parked car. After taking a few steps, my cell phone starts to ring. I seem to be out of the wireless jammer’s range now. Expressionless, I look down at the screen. It’s the detective agency.

“Yes?”

It’s Dr. Yosano.

“Kunikida? Listen, we just got another threat from that obnoxious Azure Apostle guy! I’m sending it to you right now, so get a move on!”

“But I’m—”

The call ends, and I get a notification telling me I’ve received an e-mail. I open my in-box to display the following message:

Dear Sir,

I am contacting you to discuss a third request. Passenger airline flight JA815S is currently midflight. I have taken the liberty of sending an interference signal to the aircraft’s engine and yoke that will disable their functions. I would like for you to remove the device from the aircraft and save the passengers.

Thank you for your understanding.

Yours sincerely,

The Azure Apostle

“An airplane…?”

Another threat? Now?

Preventing an aircraft attack presents a far greater challenge than a kidnapping or bomb. Trying to hop on a high-speed airplane midflight to remove some device is beyond the realm of possibility. I would need a military fighter aircraft to even consider it. No, I still wouldn’t be able to get in if the passenger plane had some sort of system to prevent intrusion.

While shutting down the engine and control wheel would indeed cut the plane’s power, it would still be able to glide for a short while. But even then, without the power to steer, there would be nothing preventing the plane from suddenly dropping before its inevitable crash. Without control, it would be difficult to land in a relatively safe location such as the ocean, and if the plane hits the ground, then everyone on the plane will die, barring a miracle more awesome than the creation of the universe itself.

There’s only one way to end this seemingly inescapable disaster.

I glance at Dazai. He’s lying on his back with his eyes closed. Then I slowly approach him.

***

“How long do you plan on playing dead? Get up. We’ve got work to do.” I kick his body.

“Hmm? Aw, c’mon, just a few more minutes.” Dazai pouts.

***

“Something happen?”

“Yeah, we got another e-mail from the real enemy threatening a plane crash, so if you’re not the person behind this, get up and help.”

“I knew you would use that to shoot me, Kunikida.” Dazai grins, still on his back.

“Same as ever, I see. You are free to scheme all you want, but don’t involve me in your ridiculous skits.”

I take the pistol I shot earlier and toss it at Dazai. He catches it, and almost instantly, it transforms back into a piece of notebook paper in his hands.

“But how did you know? I received a pistol just like it from the director. What made you so sure I wouldn’t shoot you with that one?”

“Because I trust you, of course. Someone as cautious as you wouldn’t threaten a person with a real gun out of the blue like that.”

“Hearing you say the word trust really tarnishes the word.”

The pistol I shot Dazai with was one I created out of a sheet of paper using The Matchless Poet. Since the bullets were also created using my skill, they were nullified and vaporized by Dazai’s own skill on contact.

“When did you first realize it?”

“When you told me to shoot you.”

Dazai would never say, ‘I wouldn’t mind being shot by you.’ One thing I learned while working with him is that nine times out of ten, he’s messing with someone when he says hackneyed phrases like that. Under normal circumstances, he would have said, ‘Now I can finally die,’ while dancing and jumping for joy.

“Oh, and one more thing. This pen of yours—this isn’t a detonator. It’s a covert listening device, isn’t it?”

“Quite so.”

I haven’t been working as a detective all this time just for show. I can tell whether something’s a detonator. That little charade of his was to get me to block the bug. He predicted I would bring a jammer and use it.

“When were the fountain pens swapped?”

“You know when we were by the fishing-gear shop? Well, someone switched the pens on me when I was pushing through the crowd. Ugh. That really was my favorite pen, y’know. They’ll be sorry when I make them reimburse me. It was really hard to write with, though.”

“So that must have been when they put that azure banner in your pocket, too.”

The enemy was planning on framing Dazai as the mastermind behind this string of events, but we were one step ahead of them.

“But I know you. You wouldn’t let the enemy just brush by you when you knew they were coming, right?”

“Of course not. In fact, I’d been playing the villain for a good while just for this moment. I waited for the moment they bugged me to place a GPS tracker on them. They were fools to believe they could ever outwit me.”

Dazai knew what the enemy was trying to do and still went along with their scheme. A criminal like the Azure Apostle always needs others to do their dirty work. The kidnappings, the bomb—every criminal act was outsourced, every event carefully planned to avoid suspicion. So why not outsource the role of ‘Azure Apostle’ to someone else as well? And Dazai figured it out.

“It first hit me when the victims were gassed at the abandoned hospital because I never touched the electric lock on that cage, and yet, gas started to spray out from who knows where. Which means the enemy was watching us and controlling the poison-gas device remotely to make it look like I did it. I thought, ‘Why would they do that?’ That’s when I started to feel something was up, and it wasn’t long before I figured out what they were trying to do.”

The enemy’s objective was to frame someone, and who better than a newcomer with an unknown past? Dazai, however, didn’t take any steps to prevent that from happening, either.

“This villain we’re up against never reveals themselves. We have no evidence to identify them, and they’ve thoroughly made sure they can’t be traced. Even so, this person still has to come in contact with the outside world from time to time, and that’s when they make their puppets. The only people lucky enough to meet the Azure Apostle, albeit briefly, are the perpetrators like the cabdriver and bomber: the ones who actually carry out the crimes. So my only chance of coming into contact with this guy was becoming a criminal myself, and if you hadn’t realized that, I would’ve been locked away in the criminal’s place.”

That’s why Dazai continued to pretend he didn’t know he was being set up until he could destroy the listening device in a natural way. From the point of view of our eavesdropping enemy, the bug no longer functioning is not a problem. They probably believe that everything is going according to plan.

A brief taste of freedom from the enemy’s watch—Dazai didn’t tell me what was really going on and continued to play the villain just to create this moment for us.

I am once against struck with admiration. The man is incredible.

Our enemy has the wits and resources to manipulate a seasoned bomber. Simply being able to realize they’re setting you up is an amazing feat itself. Dazai, however, worked their scheme into his own like a hook to drag out our foe.

“I bet the guy who planted the bug on me is laughing themselves silly right about now. They probably think their little plan worked and that I was killed by one of my own. This would also be the perfect moment for the enemy to make their next move.”

I nod. It was probably no coincidence that the enemy waited for this moment to threaten us with the airplane. After listening to our conversation, they probably don’t even doubt that Dazai was executed, and their assumption was almost a reality. They were waiting for Dazai to go down before sending in the third threat.

“This would’ve been the worst possible timing for the detective agency to get the threat. It’s impossible to get inside a moving plane to remove that device. Plus, only moments ago, Kunikida killed me, the supposed author of said threats. The case would be sunk, and it’d be curtains for the agency.”

He’s right. If the scenario played out as the enemy had written it, then that is exactly what would have happened.

—And if it had been anyone other than Dazai, it probably would have worked.

“There is only one way we can do this… Follow the tracking device you placed on the enemy to their hideout and put an end to this ourselves!”

“Let’s show this ‘Azure Apostle’ fellow who they’re dealing with.” Dazai gets to his feet.

***

Leaving the bug and jammer in the abandoned storehouse, we get in the car and start our search. Dazai turns on his handheld transmitter, displaying the location of the tracking device. It’s relatively close by in the mountains, and it’s not moving. I’ll have to ask the detective agency to gather information on the area. If this is where the enemy’s hideout is, then I cannot deny the possibility of there being some sort of defense facility.

However, before that happens, the agency gets in touch with me and says they were contacted by someone on the plane. Apparently, somebody happened to find a video communication device while checking the passengers’ belongings. The agency transfers the video call to my cell phone; I can see the cabin of the plane.

“I… I’m, um, one of the people on the airplane. Mommy w-wasn’t feeling well…so I’m talking f-for her. The p-plane is falling…s-so fast… Everybody’s c-crying and screaming…”

“Damn it!”

Speaking into the camera is a little girl no more than ten years old. Tears stream down her face as the aircraft rocks back and forth.

“The pilot t-told us to s-stay in our seats, b-but…but nobody’s listening, and there are s-some people fighting…”

“I’m speaking to you from on the ground. Can you hear me? I know it’s hard, but I need you to tell me what’s going on in the plane right now.”

“It’s f-falling. They s-said the engine stopped moving…and th-the steering wheel d-doesn’t work anymore, either.”

Although clearly terrified, it seems the little girl understands what’s going on. She desperately tries to describe the situation as best she can.

“Can you hear me? Are we…gonna d-die? E-everyone says we’re gonna die… I’m scared… Mommy’s not moving…or a-answering me. P-please, please help us…”

“Hello, little one. Can you hear me?” Dazai takes over the call. “We here are airplane experts. There’s nothing to worry about anymore. We’re going to fix the plane. What’s your name, little miss?”

“Ch-Chiyo…”

“Chiyo, everything’s going to be okay. Got any snacks with you?”

“Mommy gave me this piece of candy…”

“Candy, huh? I love candy, too. It’s so sweet, and it really helps you relax, doesn’t it?”

“Dazai—”

“I’ve got this… Chiyo, first, I want you to really take your time enjoying that piece of candy. After that, I’m going to need you to take that device you’re talking into and bring it to the captain’s room. Do you know where the captain’s room is?”

Chiyo nods, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Don’t worry. There’s nobody screaming in there, and I bet your mommy will be feeling better in no time.”

“B-but I… I can’t go alone. I can’t leave Mommy behind…”

“Your mommy’s gonna be just fine. The pilot will make things all better. So I’m going to need you to take that device to their room and give it to them, okay?”

The little girl stares at the floor for a few moments, then takes the candy out of her pocket and stands, albeit trembling. From there, she starts walking toward the cockpit. My hand tightens around the steering wheel.

“This is the captain of flight 815S. We are currently experiencing engine failure and are unable to make contact with any control towers, so we’ve had to resort to internal navigation. Who am I speaking to?”

The captain takes the call. He appears to be an experienced pilot a little over forty years old.

Facing the communicator, I reply, “We’re with the Armed Detective Agency. The military’s deployment forces won’t make it in time, so we will be handling the situation. I need you to be specific about what’s happening to the airplane.”

“The Armed Detective Agency? …You mean those detectives who let those missing people get killed? Just great. Just in case something happens to us—”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but we’re the only ones who understand what’s going on here. It would take several hours before the military could grasp the situation and orchestrate a rescue mission.”

“We don’t have ‘several hours’! Nearly every electronic device on this plane has quit working, so we can’t increase or decrease speed, let alone roll. If my calculations are correct, we have only an hour before we crash!”

“Listen to me. The airplane was purposefully sabotaged. Are there any strange devices on board? Or was anything destroyed?”

“…My copilot discovered a large iron box in the freight room. We found out that it was connected to some wires, but the iron box itself was welded to the aircraft. We wouldn’t be able to move or destroy it with what we have available.”

I see. The device must be interfering with the aircraft system. The enemy must have sneaked into a hangar where the aircraft was being stored, then welded a device that would temporarily paralyze the plane’s control system. After takeoff, they must have remotely activated the device to prevent the aircraft from staying airborne.

I remember reading something similar to this for work once. The now- defunct National Defense Force had been developing equipment capable of crippling aircraft functions. Eventually, however, they learned that you would first have to carry the device onto the aircraft, so they abandoned the project. In spite of that, it bears a lot of similarities to this case. If the same type of device has been brought into this aircraft, then signals being sent from the ground are controlling interference. In short, cutting off the control unit’s signal on the ground could very likely restore control on the aircraft.

“Captain, we are going to remove the source of the problem. I need you to be prepared to regulate the airplane’s altitude when I give you the signal.”

“Roger that. Just know that I won’t be able to gain altitude if we get too close to the ground. I need you to hurry. We have four hundred and ten passengers on board, and according to my calculations, we have only an hour before we crash around Yokohama’s designated tax haven.”

Only an hour.

There most likely wouldn’t be any survivors, regardless of how the plane crashes. To make matters worse, if it crashes in a densely populated industrial area such as the designated tax haven, then the damage it would bring would be devastating. Alamta’s bomb would have been nothing compared with the disaster this would cause.

There’s no time.

I step on the accelerator.

Following the tracker device, we race through the mountains of Yokohama. There’s not a house in sight, and the rough bushlands cast shadows onto the car.

“Looks like this is it.”

I stop the vehicle. Built into the mountain face is a black iron door. It leads to an air-raid shelter built during the war for the now-defunct National Defense Force. Never used, the crumbling military base has succumbed to the unforgiving flow of time.

I see now—shooting off a cannon inside wouldn’t even catch anyone’s attention, much less bring the device here.

That’s when out of nowhere, the sound of gunfire assaults our ears from both sides. The company car shrieks as bullets rain down on it.

“We’re under attack! Get out of the car!”

I slam on the gas and quickly accelerate before jumping out and escaping into the thickets.

“I guess this means we’re at the right place…!”

The armed enemies are shooting at us with rifles from the lee of some slanted rocks. There are three…no, four of them.

“What do we do, Kunikida?!” Dazai shouts out while hiding in the shadow of a slope.

“They’re only trying to buy time! I’ll provide backup! Just get inside that building!”

Bullets fly over my head as I yell. I glance over at our attackers. All they’re doing is firing at random and taking cover. Their guns are good quality, but they are not as experienced as the Port Mafia gangsters.

“The Matchless Poet: Flash Grenade!”

I’ve been using far too many pages out of my notebook lately!

I catapult the flash grenade, and the enemies recoil from the noisy explosion over their heads.

“Now’s your chance! Go!” I urge Dazai while firing my weapon. He springs into action.

***

Dazai separates from Kunikida and races through the decaying air-raid shelter. The tracker device’s signal is coming from the maintenance depot on the other side. After climbing out of the pit, he passes through the marshaling yard before immediately dashing to the two-story maintenance depot’s galvanized iron outer walls.

The abandoned maintenance depot has a hangar for storing cars and aircrafts on the first floor, with an operations room looking down at the hangar on the second floor. Dazai dashes up the staircase and rushes inside the operations room.

“It’s here, huh?”

While the floors are discolored and worn with rust at every turn, the door’s hinges appear to be new, implying someone has been frequently visiting this timeworn room. A near-empty liquor bottle rests on the table by a faintly smoking cigarette. The flashing light on the large communicator attached to the wall blinks, indicating it’s still working.

Dazai is approaching the communicator when a shadow falls over him—a large foreign man now stands at his back. The muscle-bound, tanned individual with a tattoo of a camellia on his arm looks at Dazai in silence. Old scars run down his bald head and over his dark-green eyes.

“What are you doing here?” the giant barks.

“What am I doing here? …Isn’t it obvious?! I came to warn you!” Dazai swiftly turns around and shouts. “The Armed Detective Agency found our hideout! We’ve gotta get outta here, or we’re all done for! Where’s the boss? Come on—we don’t have much time! They’re gonna come breaking through the entrance any minute now!” He urgently rattles on without even taking a moment to breathe.

“I don’t know you.”

“Well, of course you don’t. I work undercover for the boss. You know how secretive the guy is. Now hurry! Go get ’im!”

A hint of bewilderment flashes across the man’s face. “Okay.”

He turns his back to Dazai to leave the operations room.

Crack.

The large man sluggishly falls to the ground. A large bump is forming on his head. Grinning, Dazai stands behind him with the bottle of liquor cracked in half in hand.

“The boss is a real secretive fellow. Not that I’ve ever met the guy, but it’s just a hunch.”

Having no more use for the bottle, Dazai tosses it to the floor before facing the communicator once more.

“All that’s left is to send a stop signal with this.”

***

I start to follow Dazai after neutralizing the enemy. In stark contrast with the shoot-out by the entrance, a dead silence hangs over the building’s interior. Fresh footprints and tire tracks litter the ground, making it rather apparent this is their hideout. But I have no way of finding Dazai now. Plus, he has the transmitter’s tracking device.

However, as I walk past the galvanized iron outer walls of a maintenance depot, I suddenly hear the sound of glass shattering coming from inside.

—Is Dazai fighting with the enemy?

Pressing my back against the wall, I get into stance with my pistol. I plunge through the entrance with the muzzle aimed inside, searching for the enemy. It appears the first floor was used for storing armored cars and aircrafts, but now it is nothing more than a vacant lot of exposed earth. I guess that leaves an office and the operations room for the second floor. If the communicator is anywhere, it would be on the second floor.

At that moment, I get a terrible feeling that something is wrong. A chill shoots down my spine, and it feels as if swarms of insects are crawling under my skin. Unable to endure it, I fall to my knees. That’s when I notice some sort of patterns drawn into the ground: circles and lines along with various diagrams and letters. The illegible letters seem to be ancient symbols. It resembles a magic circle for rituals using a grimoire, but…my spine has been tingling with chills ever since I stepped on it. Which means—

I roll up my sleeve, an unbearable itching pain overtaking my arm. The number ‘39′ surfaces on my skin.

I check my entire body. Arms, chest, ankles: nine brands, resembling tattoos, cover me. I know for a fact these weren’t there a few seconds ago.

“Gimme … Gimme your number.”

I instinctively point my pistol in the direction of the fragile voice, where I find a boy—rather, a short young man—staggering in my direction. I aim my gun at him.

“Stop right there! We’re with the Armed Detective—”

Before I can finish my sentence, I take an invisible blow from the side, which knocks me to the floor. I am slammed into the ground only to bounce back up and collide with the galvanized iron wall hard enough to warp it. My head is spinning, my vision swirling. I have no sense of balance after all that spinning from the hit. I have to fight back.

I’m somehow able to pick up my pistol lying on the ground by my side, but immediately, my arm is struck by another invisible blow that knocks it into the air and bends me backward. My bones creak as the pistol soars through the air.

“A feisty one, ain’tcha? How excellent. You must have a wonderful number.”

The skinny young man picks up the pistol and curiously peeks into the muzzle.

Obviously he’s a skill user, and one with a battle-oriented ability, at that. They appear to be some kind of long-range attacks. I look at the marking on my skin: the number ‘32.’

Impossible—

“I’m impressed you found the place. That’s the Armed Detective Agency for ya. That’s the amazing Armed Detective Agency for ya.”

The slender man points my gun in my direction, then empties the magazine until not a single bullet remains and the firing pin takes to the sky. The bullets pierce the ground before me.

“C’mon—I wouldn’t shoot ya. It’s a very important number, after all. I couldn’t shoot ya.”

A morbid smile runs across the slim figure’s lips as he walks toward me. “Every time you take damage, that number gets smaller. It even gets smaller as time passes. And when it reaches zero—”

“You… You’re the skill user who killed the taxi driver and Alamta?”

“Heh-heh… Ha-ha… Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Oh, of course a detective would ask that. Ha-ha-ha!”

I fix my eyes on the young blond man dressed in a threadbare hooded jacket. Judging by appearance alone, he doesn’t seem to have an aptitude for fighting. However, there is one thing I am sure of.

—This skill user is the enemy’s boss.

***

Dazai operates the communicator.

“Yeesh, how old is this thing?! So if this is the frequency and this is the direction—”

A shadow moves behind him.

“It’s no use! I can’t input the final command— Hang on, do I need the control key to change the settings?!”

Colossal fists rain down from behind, smashing into Dazai’s temple and spinning him across the floor like a rag doll. There’s a dull thud when he collides with the desk.

“…That hurt, y’know.”

Dazai stands, and his lips curl upward—a fierce grin—as fresh blood drips down his cheek.

The massive man slowly and emotionlessly approaches Dazai. On each hand are hammer-like steel knuckles. The man raises his arm in the air and swings once more, but Dazai kicks off the desk and dodges. In just one punch, the steel fist smashes the wooden desk into splinters.

“That’s quite an arm you’ve got there! You really oughta consider working in freight delivery!”

Dazai slides across the floor to create some distance before facing the behemoth.

“Well, this is just no good. I’m quite weak, you see. A big guy like yourself would snap me right in two… But I promised Chiyo I would save her.”

“I won’t let you use…the communicator.” The man blocks the path to the device.

“Really? Guess I’ll just give up and run away, then.” Dazai swiftly turns around and bolts for the door.

“Get back here!”

As the giant man chases after him, Dazai races through the wooden door and closes it on his way out. Once the enemy reaches out to open the door, Dazai drop-kicks it from the other side, hitting his opponent in the process. Hampered by the door and unable to support the weight of Dazai’s jump, the man is sent flying back. Fragments from the wooden door scatter as he rolls on the ground.

“Striiike!”

Upon landing, Dazai approaches the giant to follow up with another hit.

The enemy swiftly goes for a sweep, seemingly unfazed by the kick, but Dazai leaps back as if he saw it coming.

“You’re really tough! You know that?”

The man uses his back muscles to kick up off the ground, then throws a hook. Dazai manages to bob and weave out of the way, but part of his clothing catches on the steel knuckles just enough to pull him off-balance.

“Ack—”

A fist starts to bury into Dazai’s stomach. He instantly jumps back to soften the blow, but the man’s massive arm follows through until Dazai’s body is thrown back by a punch strong enough to destroy a table. Doubled over, he soars straight into the wall on the other side of the room.

Blood and spittle drip from his mouth. The enemy raises his stout arm into the air and swings it like a club. Dazai rolls to his side to evade, but the man follows up with a backhand, knocking the detective’s head so hard that his neck almost snaps as he is driven into the ground. Trembling, he staggers to his feet.

“Strong and fast, eh? …What, were you raised by gorillas or something?”

While he may be joking, the sense of crisis in Dazai’s eyes tells a different story:

—I can’t beat this guy.

Dazai glances out the window at the storage room below, where he finds Kunikida fighting against a skill user.

***

Facing the young man, I charge. Now that I’ve lost my pistol, close-quarters combat is my only chance to subdue him. The skill user steps backward, but I pursue and reach out to grab his arm. Most of the martial arts I know involves using the opponent’s momentum against them, which is why I have to grab them first if they refuse to engage. I drag his arm to pull him off-balance before moving out of the way. Then I step in to grab him, but that’s when I see him raise his arm into the air, and I come to a sudden stop.

—Here comes another shock wave!

Rolling to the side, I evade the ray coming from his arm. I dodge his attack, and yet, I don’t. The wave knocks me back, and every bone in my body lets out a crack. My brain shakes, unable to keep up with the sudden acceleration of my body, and I start blacking out. I know I dodged his attack, so why—?

“Here’s the thing about my attacks… You can’t dodge them. I’m not hitting you with a shock wave. I’m able to accelerate those marked with the ‘number’ in any direction I want. Any direction I want. Any direction. Which is why—”

“Gwah?!”

My spine creaks. Following the swing of his arm, I am slammed into the ground. It feels as if gravity has suddenly been increased a hundredfold.

“Oh look, a fly!”

He lifts his arm into the air only to swing it down once more, crashing me into the floor like a flyswatter. He repeatedly slams me on the ground. It feels like being hit by a train over and over again. My bones crack; my skin tears. The numbers on my body have already decreased to ‘21.’

“That number is how much time you have left to live! Once it reaches zero, you writhe in pain until you’re dead! Nobody can escape their fate! Nobody! Nobody! Nobody! Nobody!”

The acceleration stops, but I’m unable to even lift a finger. It’s as if every muscle in my body is torn. A warm liquid creeps into every breath.

“Give up yet, Detective?”

The young man casually approaches me as I remain lying on the ground, unable to move. It hurts to breathe. Every joint in my body is screaming in pain.

“I shoulda killed you all one by one like this from the start. I didn’t need to go through the trouble of framing the mysterious newcomer to bring down the detective agency from the inside. Besides, that strategy failed anyway.”

The young man stands next to me and casually kicks me in the head. I see stars, but I can’t do anything about it.

“But it’s always good to be optimistic. I’ll kill you, kill you, and after that, I’ll kill your friend upstairs—kill him, too. After that, the plane’s gonna crash, and the detective agency’s rep will be ruined, and that’ll make my work in Yokohama a little easier. It’ll make it a little easier, right?”

“Your work…?”

“I’m sick and tired of shuffling goods in secret while living in fear of private organizations of skill users like yours. I’m gonna live in a world where I can buy all the organs I need and sell all the weapons I want. I’ll make a killing.” Organs…and weapons.

This is the organ-trafficking syndicate! If the Port Mafia are the sellers, then that would make these guys the buyers. They’re an underground criminal organization and general trading company in the black market for illegal goods such as organs and weapons. They have countless smugglers under their banner and ties with criminal organizations domestically and internationally.

“I learned from the Azure King incident that the Armed Detective Agency isn’t to be taken lightly. We’re big on discretion. We crush our enemies before they’re a threat. That’s the basics of the basics of business.”

The numbers on my body are now at ‘11.’ I guess whatever happened to the taxi driver and Alamta is going to happen to me if these reach ‘00.’

“…You seem to be making good money selling weapons to foreign merchants.”

“There’s so much to like about this city: the Port Mafia, the conflict in the foreign communities, the lawless areas of Yokohama, and the fights just waiting to escalate. I love this place.”

He’s right. The fighting in this city will never disappear. An arms dealer such as him must feel like a ship’s captain arriving at a new frontier. They buy organs or foolhardy thugs to sell to foreign syndicates, while bringing smuggled military weapons and seasoned mercenaries into the country to make a profit. And just like that, a new death trade is carried in from abroad to a world where the law and morals are meaningless.

However…

“I…cannot allow you to sell any more weapons. Even the smallest street fight could end with serious injuries or death if a dagger or firearm was brought into the equation. That’s why—”

“Whoa, there. What d’you think you’re doing?”

The enemy raises his arm, sending my body straight up. As the air is expelled from my lungs, the notebook I was hiding in my breast pocket slips out.

Shit!

“You thought you could buy some time talking so you could write in your notebook, huh? But that’s not happening. That is not happening. I know what your skill is. Anyway, I’ll be taking this.”

He holds the notebook in the air and shakes it at me. My skill has two disadvantages: One is the fact that it takes time to write something in my notebook and rip out the page. The other…is the fact that I cannot use my skill at all if my notebook has been stolen.

Just like that, my skill has been completely neutralized. I still have my wire gun from the last fight tucked in my belt behind me, but it doesn’t have enough power to kill, let alone seriously wound someone. Nevertheless, I cannot give up. That’s the one thing I can’t do. Not because I have to save the lives of the victims on the plane or because it’s my job as a detective at the Armed Detective Agency, but because I’ve decided that’s what needs to be done.

An agonizing pain shoots down my body, but I ignore it and get to my feet.

“Wow… Your eyes still got a little life in ’em, huh? Guess that means you want seconds!”

I take another hit from behind that spins me around and rams me into the ground.

“Gah…!”

I cough up blood. My vision blurs. I don’t even know what kind of position my body is in anymore.

“And now for the grand finale. Here, I have a key. What key, you ask? The release key for the communicator. You won’t be able to save the people on that airplane without this… You want it? You want it, don’cha?”

He pulls a thin key out of his pocket. It’s a small and fragile key with a dull yellow tint. I gaze at it.

“Want it? Here ya go.”

He bends the key until it audibly snaps in half.

“What—?”

“Ah-ha-ha-ha… Ha-ha-ha-ha! All hope is lost! Now nothing can prevent the plane from crashing! It’s over! It’s over, it’s over, it’s over! Ah-ha-ha- ha!”

The young man scornfully laughs—the wicked laugh of a man watching the world burn.

“Now, let’s put an end to this. I’m gonna kill you. I’ll kill you, and we will scream our victory from the mountaintops!”

He raises his hand. The number on me is now displaying ‘04.’

I instinctively look up at the operations room on the second floor where I see Dazai. Dazai, bloodied and beaten…

***

Kunikida is outside the window, riddled with wounds. Dazai takes another blow to the face so powerful it shatters the window on impact. Fragments of glass scatter into the air.

Dazai looks at Kunikida, and their eyes meet. They yell.

***

“KUNIKIDA!”

“DAZAI!”

***

That is all it takes. We know what to do.

I promptly pull out the wire gun at my waist and shoot it at Dazai. The hook hits the wall right next to him just as I wanted it to. Immediately, I reel in the wire, hoisting my body into the air.

***

Dazai kicks off the window frame and leaps out the window. Kunikida’s eyes are locked on him as he flies through the air at the end of the steel wire.

They exchange glances, then words, before the distance between them widens again.

***

Utilizing the tensile force of the wire, I swiftly glide through the air. Dazai has already left the operations room and is falling toward the ground. After arriving at a point right under the window to the operations room, I continue letting the wire pull me up…

…allowing me to run straight up the wall.

“HAAAAAAH!”

Kicking off the wall, I lunge into the room. I look up and see a tanned giant of a man equipped with some sort of brass knuckles. A fist powerful enough to crush a person immediately swings past my head.

The behemoth is thrown into the air.

His path through the air carries him right into the wall. His face is overcome with astonishment and bewilderment. He has no idea I just used his momentum to throw him over my shoulder. However, the man soon stands back up and throws a second punch.

“You should have stayed down.”

I roll with his attack and grab his wrist. Then, pulling him forward and off-balance, I gently cup his elbow while shifting my weight backward to lift him off the ground before throwing him along the wall and into the ceiling. His eyes roll back.

***

“What—?! You’re…”

“Sorry, but you’re up against me now.”

After landing on the first floor, Dazai casually walks over to the young man.

“Why…?! Why won’t any numbers appear?! I can’t accelerate, either! Why, why, why is this happening?!”

“You should’ve done your homework. Skills don’t work on me.”

The enemy steps back while raising his hand, but Dazai, unconcerned, only continues to get closer.

“Explain yourself! How did you two know to switch opponents just by looking at each other?! What kinda trick was that?”

Wearing an unwavering smile, Dazai continues to close the distance. The young man steps back, overwhelmed.

“J-just who the hell are you?! Your entire history was wiped clean! Who are you?! Who?! Who?!”

“Oh, looks like I forgot to introduce myself.”

Dazai towers over the young man and peers down at him. Then he gently clenches his fist before raising it into the air.

Dazai’s right fist connects with the young man’s face, spinning him a full 180 degrees. The enemy’s eyes roll back into his head as he passes out.

“The name’s Osamu Dazai, Armed Detective Agency personnel.”

***

The giant man charges at me like a wild beast before I throw him into the air. The stronger my opponent, the more powerful the throw. After a few tosses, I eventually hurl him through the window frame, where he free-falls all the way down to the first floor.

When I glance out the window, I see that he’s foaming at the mouth, out cold. He won’t be waking up from that for a while. Then I look at my body to find that the numbers have vanished. Dazai must have defeated that skill user.

Phew. Thank goodness.

Relieved, I check the communicator. All that’s left is to cut this machine off. I operate the vintage device, fumbling with the frequency and direction. It’s a rather old machine, but I can manage.

“Kunikida!”

Dazai comes rushing up the stairs now that the enemy below is defeated. “I think we need this release key to use the communicator! But it looks like that jerk broke it before passing out!” Flustered, he shows me the bent key.

“I know.”

“We can’t work the communicator with this! The plane’s—”

“I’m constantly running into issues. The unexpected is my norm. That’s why…”

I tear the stitches off my hip pocket and pull out a sheet of paper.

“…I always have a spare page with me for emergencies.”

I unfold the paper and write with my own blood.

“The Matchless Poet: Release Key!”

The piece of paper transforms into a yellow release key.

“And as long as I get one good look, I can produce a perfect replica using my skill.”

“Wh-whoa… Really?” The unflappable Dazai finally opens his eyes wide in astonishment.

“Really. Surprised? I think you are. All right, we made a promise. You owe me a drink.”

Operating the communicator’s control panel, I adjust the settings, insert the release key, and turn it. Immediately afterward, a green light illuminates the control panel. I forcefully press the disable button.

“Now the airplane should have full control again! Dazai, call the pilot!”

“Already on it!”

We rush toward the outside, but at the same time, I can hear a low rumbling coming from somewhere. It’s getting closer.

This sound—

It gradually grows louder until it becomes a deafening roar.

“Captain! Can you hear me?! We stopped the interference device! You should be able to control the plane now. Hurry! Pull up the nose and gain some altitude!”

“I’m trying! But we’ve already lost too much altitude! Damn it! Come on!”

The roaring that we’re hearing is the passenger aircraft flying right above us!

Dazai and I race out of the building. A colossal shadow sweeps the ground as the heavens thunder overhead. I gaze into the sky.

It’s getting closer! The airplane flies over us, gradually being sucked in by the land up ahead.

Heading toward the city… And down toward the earth…

Don’t fall. You absolutely must not fall. Don’t fall. Fly to the sky! Fly!

“FLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!”

I bellow.

The passenger aircraft’s shadow grazes the ground before the nose pulls up. A surging gust storms across the land as the aircraft regains altitude, and the plane flies toward the evening sun.

—It’s flying.

They made it.

Together, Dazai and I watch the airplane slowly melt into the deep- crimson sky.

***

#Bungo Stray Dogs #Bungou Stray Dogs #BSD #Bungo Stray Dogs Light Novels #Light Novel #Light Novel Volume 1 #Osamu Dazai's Entrance Exam #Armed Detective Agency #Port Mafia #Kafka Asagiri #Sango Harukawa

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miyanom · 3 years

Text

DEVILS PARADISE (part one)

MASTERLIST | JEAN KIRSTEIN X FEM!READER

synopsis: growing up in marley, y/n learnt the devils of paradis are her greatest enemy. though they shared the blood running through her veins, their mere existence led to constant discrimination against y/n’s people. knowing all of this, y/n enlists in the marleyan warrior program; a program designed to turn eldians like herself into titan shifters. however, joining the program leads y/n to the devil’s paradise, and she realises the truth marley so desperately hid from them.

warnings: spoilers for season 4, blood and violence. reader has hair long enough to be tied up, but only in a flashback.

notes: i’m leaning toward this being a 5 part series at most with jean as the love interest, but i’m not too sure, it might be shorter or longer than that!

word count: 2506

"When you become a Marleyan Warrior, you'll make all of us proud here in Liberio, Y/N." Her mother spoke, pulling the child's hair back as she tied it with a crimson red ribbon. "You'll show them that we aren't like those island devils."

Her mother spoke with disgust as she mentioned the Eldian devils of Paradis. By now, Y/N knew to keep silent and agree with her mother about everything.

"You'll become one of the Warriors for me, won't you, Y/N?" She glanced down at her daughter, a stern expression on her face.

Y/N nodded her head, smiling up at her mother. "Of course."

It was a decision completely out of Y/N's hands, she could only train as hard as she could and hope for the best. But in her mother's eyes, the best just wasn't good enough. It was never good enough.

Looking back, Y/N could hear the words "this is the only way" repeating in her head over and over again until she began to agree with it too.

The only way for the Marleyans to see her family as just a little bit more human, was if Y/N were to become one of the warriors.

Earning that red band and becoming honorary Marleyans was the only way to be happy.

Y/N leaned against the wall of the courtyard her and the others in her Warrior training unit were waiting in. The tip of her shoe digging into the ground in front of her as she stayed buried within her thoughts.

With the previous warriors terms coming to an end, she had heard from the army that she was a prime candidate for one of the Titans, it was almost guaranteed at this point considering the Warrior unit had been narrowed down to the 8 of them.

But soon, one of them would be left behind, while the others are turned to Titan shifters.

“Did you guys hear? We’re attacking Paradis Island in just a few years,” Zeke spoke from where he was sitting, before chucking an apple in Marcel’s direction.

“Huh?” Y/N breathed out, raising her head to look over at the older man.

“It’s almost time for us to inherit Titans,” Zeke continued. “Out of the eight of us, they’re picking seven!”

Y/N looked back at the ground for a moment, the 10 year old’s shoulders becoming stiff. Yes, she was almost guaranteed to receive a Titan, but if something happened and she failed to earn the title of honorary marleyan��s for her family…

“Yes! I can finally be Marleyan!” Reiner spoke excitedly.

“Huh? Why so excited?” Porco glanced over at him. “If anyone’s the worst, it’s you.”

Reiner’s head snapped in the boy’s direction, his hands clenched into fists. “Excuse me?!”

“What’s your strong point?” Porco continued. “Your strength? Your brains? Your aim? Combat ability? Nope. The only value they see in you is your loyalty to Marley.”

Y/N kept her gaze off the two boys, knowing Porco was right. The only thing that made Reiner appealing to Marley was his unrelenting loyalty.

One day, that wouldn’t be enough.

“I’ll slaughter the island devils real good for you, sir!” Porco mocked.

Reiner stepped forward, grabbing Porco’s wrist, causing the boy to drop the apple he was holding. “You making fun of our mission?! Or maybe you’re a stray Restorationist?! You are, aren’t you?! I’ll report you to the Commander!”

“Report this, you little shit!”

When Y/N finally lifted her head, Reiner was already on the ground. And Marcel was holding his brother back from attacking the boy again.

“Hating the island doesn’t make you special!” Porco told him. “Have fun waiting 13 years alone!”

Knocking his brother away, Porco began to storm off, causing Zeke to finally stand up. “Let’s go, Pieck, Y/N.” He spared a quick glance at the girls standing near him.

Pieck, older by just a few small years, was much like a sister to Y/N. Looking out for her during their time in the program despite the fact they were possibly competing for a place.

The raven haired girl took Y/N’s hand, gently pulling her along to follow after Zeke. It was a habit Pieck had taken up after noticing Y/N’s tendency to space out when things got too quiet.

“Don’t cry too long or the Commander will chew me out,” Zeke called back to Reiner, who remained in the dirt.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder as Pieck continued to pull her along, her eyes falling onto Reiner as Bertholdt helped him onto his feet.

Becoming a Warrior was a privilege, Y/N knew that. But why would anyone want to shorten their life to a 13 year term dedicated to fighting Marley’s enemies?

Y/N didn’t want to die in 13 years, she’d rather take the hatred from Marley for the rest of her life, like many others had done before her.

If she had a choice, that was exactly what she would do. But it was too late now.

In a few years, she would be an official Marleyan Warrior, headed for the devil’s island to attack their self imposed century long quarantine.

Y/N’s eyes flickered up to the sky, as a bird flew overhead leaving her to wonder what the island devils were doing in this moment.

Did they really deserve what was coming?

The weeks leading up to Y/N being sent to Paradis all passed by in a blur, whether it was the shock of finally being an honorary Marleyan or the memories of the former host that kept her awake at night, Y/N wasn’t sure.

All she knew was that she was on Paradis Island, headed with Reiner, Annie, Bertholdt and Marcel to break through the wall that kept the devils safe from the Titans Marley had filled the island with over the past century.

Did they really deserve what was coming? Did they deserve it? Did they-

“Y/N, can you?” Bertholdt held the can in Y/N’s direction as he whispered.

Y/N carefully took the unopened can of food from his shaky hands, peeling it open before handing it back. She had been doing it for him the past few nights, his hands too shaky to even open a simple can as it came closer and closer to the day he would kick through the wall.

It couldn’t be easy being the successor for the Colossal Titan, a god of death.

“You alright?” Y/N questioned quietly, taking note of the fear in his eyes.

Bertholdt quickly averted his gaze, letting out a hum as he nodded his head.

He was always quiet like this, and Y/N found it oddly calming. It was a nice difference when compared to the louder members of their unit back in Marley.

It was nice because it reminded her of Pieck, who had stayed behind with Zeke to protect Marley while the others attacked Paradis.

“We didn’t cover much ground tonight,” Marcel commented as he poked at the fire with a stick.

“Can’t do much about the clouds.”

“Will the King really not use the Founding Titan, even if we break the wall?” Bertholdt asked, remembering what they had been told in preparation for their mission.

“What’s the use asking now?” Reiner glanced at him. “Trust Marley’s research.”

Y/N stares at the fire in front of her, one hand coming up to rest against her forearm, right where the material band showing her status would be sitting if she were back in Marley.

It felt weird to not have that constant reminder that she was nothing but Titan shifting scum.

“That’s right. We can’t turn back,” Marcel nodded. “Tomorrow, we reach the wall… and then…”

Y/N remained silent, a shaky breath falling from her lips. Right, tomorrow they would be breaking through the Wall. They’d come face to face with the people they were sent to kill.

It’s not like they haven’t done it before, they were sent to destroy an enemy base as part of their Titan training.

But those people had been actively trying to harm Marley… the devils hadn’t done that in over a century.

Reiner’s eyes scanned the group, a shocked expression painted over his face. “Huh? What? Are you having second thoughts about killing the devils? Have you forgotten what they’ve done?!”

Y/N hugged her legs close to her chest, refusing to look in Reiner’s direction or answer his question.

It was impossible to forget the sins of the Eldians, it had been drilled into their heads for years now, after all.

Reiner stood up quickly. “We’re the world’s chosen Warriors sent to punish the island devils!”

Marcel averted his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“Reiner, I’m sorry. You were never meant to be chosen as a Warrior,” Marcel continued.

Y/N’s head shot in the boy’s direction, her eyes widened. She couldn’t say it was a surprise, no, Reiner was the weakest of the warriors in their unit.

Maybe it was a shock?

Marcel’s voice came out like it hurt him to finally admit it. “I talked you up and criticised my brother to influence their decision. I… just want to protect my brother.”

Tears began to fall from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Reiner… I’m sorry!”

Y/N turned to see Reiner’s frozen form, unmoving and engulfed by shock— it was the same thing he did when he watched Marcel get eaten by a Titan.

Frozen, unmoving, and engulfed by shock.

Y/N could still hear Marcel’s screaming, as the other warriors ran for their lives.

Her chest felt heavy as they finally came to a stop, her knees giving out beneath her as she fell to the grass. Teardrops falling against her clenched fists.

How long had she been crying for?

She couldn’t tell, not when she was too focused on escaping the mindless titan that devoured Marcel before their very eyes.

She choked back the sob that threatened to fall from her lips as she realised what they had done; they could’ve saved Marcel, they should’ve saved Marcel, but they ran.

And they lost the Jaw Titan.

Marley was going to kill them, they weren’t even going to reach the end of their 13 year term. They were going to die for failing the mission before even reaching the walls.

Would it even be worth it if they came back with the Founding Titan but not the Jaw Titan? They’d still be left with the same number as before.

Y/N’s eyes widened when she felt a hand press against her back, though she relaxed just slightly as she realised it was Bertholdt.

He looked just as terrified as her.

As Annie caught up to the group, she immediately kicked Reiner, causing the boy to start screaming as he moved away in fear.

“Not bad,” Annie spoke, her voice coming out almost breathlessly from the running. “This is a first. You actually beat me… in a long distance race…”

Y/N wiped her tears away as she pushed herself up, looking back in the direction they had come from.

“If we took out that Titan we wouldn’t have lost Jaw,” Annie told Reiner. “Shit! Now Marcel’s gone for good.”

“They said there wouldn’t be Titans this far out,” Reiner whispered.

“We’ve gotta go home,” Annie averted her gaze. “Let’s find Jaw and leave. They would’ve changed back to human. Besides, without Marcel to lead, this mission is doomed.”

“Do you… do you think they’ll just come willingly?” Y/N breathed out, still trying to catch her breath.

Though just as Y/N moved to follow Annie, Reiner began to yell. “We can’t!”

Y/N turned around, her eyes widening as Reiner held his outstretched hand in their direction. “We can’t go home! We’ve gotta continue the mission!”

“Oh, yeah…” Annie’s eyes narrowed in his direction for a moment. “If we go back now, you’ll just get eaten by the next Warrior.”

Reiner began nodding his head.

Y/N looked away from the boy, biting her trembling lip gently. Porco was the next warrior… he would see Reiner’s memories, see his brother getting eaten…

“You think only I will?” Reiner spoke up, causing the other three to turn back to him. “That only I’ll get the blame for running away? You guys are certain you won’t get eaten, too?”

Y/N swallowed the lump forming in the back of her dried throat, an uneasy feeling returning to the pit of her stomach as she stared at Reiner’s grim face.

“Catching Jaw won’t be easy either. If they used its power and ran, our titans could never catch up.”

“They can’t control it right after becoming-”

“You controlled the Colossal Titan, no problem!” Reiner cut Bertholdt off. “Anyways, we’re doomed at this rate! Without the Founding Titan, there’s no going home!”

He was right, Y/N realised. None of them could catch up with the Jaw Titan, and if they returned empty handed, they would all die.

“Back there, if you were a fraction as calm as you are now, we wouldn’t have lost Marcel or Jaw,” Annie stated. “But you’ve got no problem intimidating us to save your own ass, huh?!”

Walking back toward Reiner, she let out a shout as she kicked the boy in the face, sending him flying backward onto the ground.

“How about you come clean to Magath?! Tell him, “it’s all my fault!” Honorary Marleyan, my ass!” She shouted, continually kicking him over and over again. “Chosen warrior, my ass! Marleyans, Eldians! They’re all liars! Everyone only thinks about themselves!”

Y/N remained silent, knowing Annie was right. The predicament they were in now could’ve been avoided had Reiner remained calm back then.

Marcel died saving him, after all.

If Reiner had just sucked it up, if he just didn’t let what Marcel said get to him, they would’ve been long gone before the Titan even woke up from its slumber.

“Should we… should we stop her?” Bertholdt glanced at Y/N.

Y/N stared at Annie who kept kicking Reiner in her anger, before she looked to Bertholdt and shook her head. “Annie’s right.”

“If you feel guilty, just die! Take all the blame and die!”

With that, Annie began to walk away, leaving Reiner face first on the ground, blood pooling on the grass beneath his face.

A perk of being a Titan shifter was that they could all heal from wounds like that.

Y/N’s eyes widened as Reiner pushed himself up, jumping at Annie and holding her in a headlock. “Reiner is dead,” he spoke. “If we need Marcel, then I’ll be Marcel.”

Y/N’s throat went dry once more as she stared at Reiner in fear, her hands shaking at her sides.

“Please, stop this…” Bertholdt muttered, tears falling from his eyes as he watched.

“This is the only way we’ll be able to go back home!” Reiner kept his grip on Annie. “Let’s go back… together… to our hometown!”

#aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #jean kirstein x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader

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coltsbitch · 3 years

Text

figure it out ~ colt grice x reader

colt grice x reader; 6.5k words; nsfw summary: colt is determined to proving himself in any test, even if that means figuring out why you were staring at him...?

masterlist

“I suppose congratulations are in order.” You smile when Colt jumps slightly at the sound of your voice.

“So, you heard?”

“Magath made sure to come tell the rest of us after you got pulled from training. Wanted to remind us we’re still scum, maybe even a little bit more so since we weren’t chosen.”

It probably wasn’t the best thing to say, you can already see Colt feels badly, as he rubs his neck, “I’m sorry. You know, the Cart and Armor titan successors will be selected soon enough.”

“It’s okay Colt, it was never in the cards for me. Not being in your class and all.” You shrug, giving him a sly smile thinking of how hard he’s been training these last few years, desperate to redeem his family’s betrayal to Marley. But you suppose that’s something the current Beast titan has in common.

“I wouldn’t give up hope yet.” He flashes you a grin that makes you feel weak in the knees.

But with being so dedicated to inheriting a titan, you know Colt has never so much strayed an eye off his goal. No use dwelling on those smiles he sends your way.

“Well, I’m sure with being selected you can finally ease up on the studying and training that’s consumed your life, if you wanted to go get a soda or something?”

You already know your answer when Colt’s face screws up in that apologetic look he gets, “I’m supposed to be meeting with War Chief Zeke.”

“Really not waiting a moment for this training to begin, huh? Is he going to tell you all the secrets to being a titan?” You tease, hoping your disappointment is masked in your voice.

Colt laughs slightly, “Not sure, but he told me to bring a catcher’s mitt.” He gestures to the leather in his hand.

Speak of the devil, you see the War Chief rounding the corner, “Colt.” He calls out, not bothering to come any closer.

“Well, don’t let me keep you.”

Colt looks over his shoulder, and then back of you, seeing what maybe your mind is wanting to be a flash of regret in his eyes, “Another time, okay?”

You smile and nod as you watch his retreating form. But another time will probably never come, just like it hasn’t every other time he made that promise. It’s pathetic the way you throw yourself after him, every other warrior candidate thinks the same thing. You’re not sure if the ignorance or the whispers hurt more.

Whispers that Colt definitely has never heard, too focused to give petty gossip the time of day. Which you’re thankful for, you’re not sure how you would handle Colt knowing about your massive infatuation with him. But with the way things are going, it’s likely he never will.

Kicking a rock and huffing to yourself you turn down the street to return to Liberio.

…

“Who’s the girl?”

It’s been almost three months since Colt was selected to inherit the Beast Titan. And while Colt knows there’s still over two years until his terms starts, he wonders if there will ever be anything more than playing catch with War Chief Zeke.

Colt throws the ball back, “What do you mean?”

Zeke just raises an eyebrow, his eyes drifting to the line of warrior candidates where you stand, clearly sneaking peaks at the two.

“Oh, her?” Colt drops his hand, his focus on you instead of the ball heading his way, “Ouf!” He groans, bending over trying to catch his breath from where the ball had knocked it out.

“Never take your eye off the target.” Zeke is standing before Colt, hand outstretched.

“Right.” Colt stands grabbing the War Chief’s hand, his eyes drifting to you, where now you’re openly watching, concern on your face. Colt sends a smile, more of a grimace, your way before following Zeke.

Zeke puts a cigarette between his lips, lighting the end. He takes a deep inhale, smoke wafting around Colt’s face, “You never answered.”

“Oh. She’s just a friend from my warrior class.”

“Watches you a lot.”

Colt doesn’t respond because he doesn’t know what Zeke means by that. You don’t watch him, at least, not more than you watch any other person. Right?

“You don’t notice?” Colt shakes his head, “Well figure it out.”

“Sir?” Colt cocks his head.

“Part of being a Titan Warrior is being strategic. Knowing what the enemy is thinking before it even crosses their mind.”

“I’d assume she’s still hurt she wasn’t selected to inherit your titan.”

Zeke lets out a mixture of a laugh and scoff, “I’ve never talked to the girl and I already know that’s wrong. Consider this your first test. Report back to me tomorrow.”

Colt nods eagerly at the thought of impressing the War Chief tomorrow, now he just needs to find you and get an explanation, even if he isn’t too convinced you were even looking at him in the first place.

…

Colt waits for you outside the gates of the training grounds. He watches as you and another warrior candidate come closer, the smile on your face is a pleasant sight. He likes when your eyes crinkle because of how wide your smile can get. But that’s not the point right now. He needs to focus on the task at hand.

“Colt!” You call out as soon as you spot him leaning against the wall, waving your arm wildly.

He waves back as you split off from your friend.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” You’re a little breathless from jogging up to Colt, hoping you didn’t look too desperate to be in his presence.

Colt smiles and rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah. War Chief Zeke has me in a pretty tight schedule.”

“Well, you seem to be free now.” You comment off handedly, you know he’s probably on his way to another meeting or another training, just passing by and decided to say hi.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here. I was hoping we could go for a walk or something?”

“Wait, really?” You ask incredulously, this man has never had a free minute in his life. And now that he does, he wants to spend it with you? You might faint.

“Unless you have somewhere to be.”

“No!” You shout, making Colt to jump slightly, “I mean, I’d love to.” Nodding too much, “How about you show me around the barracks? I’ve always wondered what it’s like to live in style.” You laugh.

“Okay but believe me when I tell you it’s not much.”

“Lead the way.”

Colt smiles and turns leading you down the block to the giant brick building.

The two of you catch up about the things he’s missed since being pulled from training. The different candidates that have dropped and joined. He tells you about all the things he’s learning, which isn’t much.

“It’s just a lot of playing catch.” Colt opens a door leading to his private dorm, “I mean we talk while we do it, but not how I imagined it going.”

You follow behind him into the sparse room, there’s the bare minimum of furniture, as most Eldians are lucky to even have. “Wow, you sure know how to decorate.”

Colt smiles, “I still try to go home as much as I can. My parents are proud, but I know Falco misses me more than he lets on.”

“A truly selfless big brother you are.” You nudge him with your elbow.

“Ah.” Colt grimaces, hand flying to where your elbow dug into his stomach.

“Are you alright?”

Colt huffs a laugh, rubbing is side, “War Chief Zeke’s throws sure pack a punch.”

“Was that from yesterday? When the ball caught you in the side?”

Colt nods, “It’s no big deal. Just a pretty nasty bruise.”

“Well at least let me look at it. I did rank higher than you in our first aid training.” You reach for his side before he turns away from you.

“Why were you staring at me yesterday?”

You freeze your movements and feel your face heat up, “What are you talking about?”

“War Chief Zeke says you were staring at me. Why?”

Mortification is all you can feel right now, “I wasn’t starring at you! And besides, I just felt bad that you got nailed in the stomach because you weren’t paying attention!” You all but stomp your foot. There’s no way he noticed you since he never has before. Which means War Chief Zeke must have pointed it out, which honestly might be worse than Colt noticing on his own.

“It was just a question. There’s no reason to get upset.”

“I’m not upset! And you’re being an idiot!” You know it wasn’t the best comeback, but you didn’t know what else to say. With that you turn around and fly down the hallway, ignoring Colt when he calls after you.

…

“She said she wasn’t starring at me.”

“Hmm?” Zeke doesn’t look up from the papers on his desk.

“Well, I tried to complete the test you assigned me yesterday, but she said she wasn’t staring at me, sir.”

Zeke looks up and studies Colt for a moment before sighing and leaning back in his chair, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. Colt feels a rock settle in his stomach. It’s the first time the War Chief has really asked anything of him aside from playing catch and he’s let him down. He’s going to be stripped of titan before he even gets it, and his family will be at risk, maybe even more so than before. Falco will have to become a warrior to save them now. That’s something he was hoping to avoid, but it could already be too late for Colt anyway.

Colt is broken from his thoughts when he realizes Zeke is laughing, “Sir?”

“Don’t tell me you outright asked her?”

“Well.” Colt trails off, “I figured a head on tactic would be most successful.”

Zeke laughs to himself, rising from his chair to open a window, “One of your highest marks was in tactical and strategic planning, but I guess that only applied to categories of war.” Zeke pulls a cigarette, “Have a seat, Colt.”

Colt sits as the War Chief rounds the desk, smoke clouds in his wake. “Do you know much of the person who possessed the Beast before me?” Zeke leans against the desk.

“Tom Ksaver, sir.”

“Yes. Tom helped me through some of the most difficult times in my life, was more of a father to me than Grisha ever was.” Zeke takes a long drag, “I’d like to help you that way in the years I have remaining.”

“Of course, sir. I’d truly appreciate it.” Colt nods.

“Well, let’s start with yesterday. How exactly did you figure out that she wasn’t staring?” Zeke has a smile on his face like he knows something Colt doesn’t. Which isn’t necessarily uncommon, but Colt feels like he’s missing something here he should know.

“Well, I had given her a tour of the barracks, and she was asking to examine the bruise on my side from playing catch and I asked why she was looking at me then anyway. As you pointed out, sir. And she told me she wasn’t.”

Zeke takes a last drag from his cigarette before putting it out in the ash tray, “Let me get this straight. The two of you were alone in your room?”

Colt’s eyes widen, “I’m sorry, sir. I should have asked for permission before bringing her in there.”

Zeke continues, not even acknowledging Colt’s apology, “And she was asking you to remove your shirt, which is when you decided was the best time to question her stares?”

“Yes.”

Zeke’s silence bares down on Colt, and he’s about to break the silence when Zeke let’s out a deep hearty laugh, “I’m assuming the years you’ve spent as a warrior candidate have had you focused on your training and nothing else.”

Colt nods, slightly confused, “Of course sir. I wanted to redeem my family’s sins against Marley.”

Zeke nods, understanding all too well, “And you’ve done it. The next inheritor of the Beast Titan. It’s safe to say the Grice family is in good standards.” Colt nods as Zeke continues, “And you’ll have plenty to learn now, and I’ll try my best to prepare you. Most will come on your own, long after I’m gone.” Zeke pauses to pick up the baseball that always sits on the edge of his desk. “Doesn’t mean now’s the time to slack off, but I’m sure a little excitement in your life could do you well.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“The brightest can truly be the densest.” Zeke mutters to himself, “If I were a betting man, I would say she has a schoolgirl crush on you.”

“What! Me?” Colt shouts.

“Who knows, might not be exactly schoolgirl either. I’m assuming you’re aware of the sexual innerworkings between individuals?”

Colt feels his face go red, this is not what he thought warrior training would entail.

“Colt. The second you were selected to inherit a titan, your life became a countdown. Don’t waste the moments you would regret.”

“I thought Warriors didn’t bother with things like that for the same reason exactly.”

Zeke hums, throwing his ball into the air a few times before placing it on the desk again, “Now that is something we can discuss at a later date. But as for now, I’d say take the day to make amends with your friend.”

“Are you sure, sir? I only just arrived.”

Zeke scoffs, “Please go.”

...

You barely had the energy to make it to the training grounds today. Laying in your bed all night replaying the Colt’s words in your head made sleep elusive. Not the typical thoughts of Colt that kept you up at night.

Never in your life had you been so embarrassed. Maybe you should drop out of the Warrior program all together. It’s not like you’ll ever inherit a titan anyway, and if you found a job in Liberio it would be easier to avoid Colt for the rest of your life.

Well, you suppose it would only to be about fifteen years of hiding, and then his term would come to an end anyway. The thought makes your stomach churn, and you wish it had never entered your brain in the first place.

The day drags on. When you’re finally free, you say quick goodbyes to your friends hoping to get home and crawl into your bed until you can erase the mortification from your consciousness.

But that’s going to be hard with Colt standing at the gates just like yesterday. Hoping to make yourself as small as possible you duck your head and try to hurry past without him noticing.

But your plan is unsuccessful when you hear your name being called behind you.

Stopping in your tracks you turn around, Colt just a step behind.

“Hey.” He says, “I wasn’t sure if you saw me back there.”

“Must have missed you.” You give a tight smile, “I’ll see you around though.”

Turning around you’ve decided you will be going home to curl up in a ball and die, but your hand is tugged back.

“I was hoping we could talk about yesterday.”

“What’s there to talk about?” You fight the heat building behind your cheeks.

“Well, I think I said some things that might have upset you, and I wanted to apologize.”

“You didn’t upset me. I just had remembered I needed to get home is all. Which is also where I need to be now. So, I’ll see you around Colt.”

“I was thinking we could go get that soda finally. I know I always say next time.” He gives you that lopsided grin when he knows he has someone caught, and you’re sure you’re actually going to go weak in the knees.

And a tiny part of you hates yourself for not being strong enough, “Okay.”

…

It’ll be sunset soon, and you know you should be getting home soon, but you’re laughing at Colt’s impression of Magath and you know these moments will be worth it even if you get shit from one of the gate guards.

“I am sorry if I upset you yesterday.” Colt says, abruptly.

You pause before answering, wishing Colt hadn’t brought this up again. “It’s okay. I might have overreacted anyway.”

He stares into your eyes, and you think he’s searching for something before looking back at the street in front of you two, sighing, “I’m just trying to do my best. And I feel like I’m falling behind, and that any second everyone will realize they should have picked someone else.”

You scoff, “Well that’s just wrong. You were basically the top of our class in every subject! I don’t think there was or will be anyone else who has dedicated so much time to the program.”

Colt doesn’t answer, eyes now at his hands, clearly lost in thought.

You nudge his shoulder, “You okay?”

“War Chief Zeke thinks you have a crush on me.”

You freeze, feeling your stomach dropped, “God! Do you believe everything he says?” You shout.

Colt jumps at your outburst, clearly not expecting it, “Wait!” He puts his hands out, like he was preparing for you to run away, “I didn’t mean it like that! I mean he did say that, but I was just wondering, I guess if you did?”

“What do you care anyway?” You fold your arms.

Colt groans, “I don’t know. War Chief Zeke basically told me to stop wasting my life and to figure it out.”

“So, do you want to know for yourself of because War Chief Zeke told you to?”

“Would it be bad if I said both?”

You roll your eyes and huff, “This is why you’ve never realized! You’ve always been so focused on inheriting a titan, that you never realized what was right in front of you!”

Colt frowns, “That’s not fair. You know why I’m doing this.”

You feel horrible for a second, “I didn’t mean it like that, Colt.” You whisper, sitting down again. You groan before dropping your head into your hands, “Everyone else has picked up on it. I’ve never even spoken to War Chief Zeke and he knows.” You meet his gaze, “I mean, am I that invisible?”

Colt opens and closes his mouth a few times, “I wouldn’t, I mean that’s not-” Colt trails off. “I’m clearly fucking this up.” He sighs, shoulders dropping.

You sit there in shame for having spilled your guts out and Colt can barely get a word out. Hiding for the rest of your life is starting to look better and better.

“I think you’re stunning.” You whip up your head, but Colt is still looking at his locked hands, “I think you’re intelligent, and so kind, and this amazing person.” He looks up at you, “I’m an idiot for ignoring that, and I want to try showing you how sorry I really am.”

“Oh.” You can barely whisper, mouth slightly parted.

Colt’s eyes flick between yours and your lips, “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

You nod, afraid to say anything that might break this moment. But your heart is thumping so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.

His head leans in towards you, and your eyes flutter close waiting for his lips to touch yours. Instead, you feel a sharp pain on your forehead.

“Ow!” Rubbing your forehead, you see Colt is doing the same.

“Shit.” He mutters to himself, he looks up, face redder than you ever thought possible, “Sorry I’m so helpless.”

“Colt.” You press a hand into his cheek, this time guiding your mouth to his. And you don’t close your eyes until your lips are firmly pressing against his. He isn’t moving against you, more like he’s shocked still.

Taking the lead, you wrap your hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. He gasps at the feel of your tongue sliding against his lips, and you use the opportunity to slide it in.

This is about as far as you’ve gotten with anyone, so you aren’t quite sure what to do next. But Colt seems to have returned to the moment and has some intuition, because he meets your tongue in his mouth with his. Swiping his over yours several times that has a chill running down your spine.

You feel one of his hands grab at your thigh, pulling you closer while the other slides to cup your face. He continues wrestles your tongue with his and it’s making you a little dizzy. And suddenly you feel his teeth nip at your bottom lip that has you gasping a moan.

He pulls away, both of your chests heaving like you just ran laps around the training field.

“That was nice.” You say, cringing at how awkward you sound.

“Really nice.” He keeps fluttering his gaze between your eyes and lips like he wants to go back for more.

“So-” You trail off, not quite sure what to say.

“You know,” He starts, “It’s getting pretty dark out. You should probably just stay the night, that is if you want to?”

Your mouth drops slightly, “Yeah. Okay.” You give him a small smile.

His hand has moved from your thigh to grab your hand, and stands pulling you up along too, “Okay.”

You smile interlocking his fingers, “See? You’re not completely helpless.”

“What do you- oh. Oh.” Colt’s face flushes, “I didn’t mean it like that, I mean, unless you want to me to mean it like that.”

Squeezing his hand, you take a little pity on the boy, “Let’s just go.”

And now you’re sitting side by side on his bed, exchanging small kisses between giggles.

“Do you think this could be easier?” He asks between kisses.

You pull back, “What?”

“I mean, like if you sat in my lap, or something, I guess.” Colt trails off, embarrassed for even asking.

“Okay.” You push Colt to sit back further on his bed and straddle his hips, “Is this okay?”

Colt doesn’t answer. Can’t answer. He didn’t realize how warm you would feel in his lap, and how dim light from the single lamp would make your eyes seem more vibrant. But he does give a slight nod and you return your mouth to his.

Shifting slightly to reposition more comfortably, you feel his bulge brush against you. The sensation sends a tingle through you, so you try it again. Maybe a litter harder than last time because now Colt lets out a quick groan while bucking up into your body.

You gasp at his sudden movement, surprised that you elicited such a reaction.

Both of you pull back to look at each other. And there’s some unspoken communication happening between the two of you because he’s pulling you down on top of him and you’re reaching for the bottom of his shirt while he’s running his hands along you sides and kissing your neck.

After you get all his buttons undone, he pulls away for moment to tear of his shirt and pull the under one off over his head.

You sit back, feeling his hardness that seems to have grown press into your ass. You’d be more interested in exploring that, if you weren’t so memorized by all the skin Colt just exposed you to.

You flick your eyes up to Colt’s quickly, seeing he’s waiting for you to make the first move. So you begin your assault on his neck, running your tongue along his collar bone, biting at his skin that earns you a squeak.

Your hands have been tracing his stomach, scratching and rubbing at the hardened muscle. You continue to scoot further down his body, now straddling his thighs.

“Wait!” Colt straightens and grips your hand that was edging closer to his belt, “It’s just, I’ve never really done this before.”

You smile and shrug, “I figured, but I haven’t either.”

“No.” Colt says, his face grave, “Like I haven’t really even done things with myself, like that.” His cheeks are a dark pink and you can’t help but wonder what other parts of his body are flushed.

“Oh.” You straighten, realizing just what he meant, “So, you’ve never thought about things like this? Even at night?”

Colt flushes and grumbles, “Kind of hard when I shared a room with Falco.”

You smile, “That’s okay. I think I’ve thought about this enough for the both of us.” Pressing a quick kiss to his lips, and then continuing to his neck, enjoying the small whines pouring from his lips, “I’ll take care of you.” You whisper into his shoulder, loving the shiver that dances across his body.

Pushing gently on Colt’s shoulder, he lays back onto his elbows, his gaze never leaving you as you scoot further down his body until your face to face with his groin.

You check once more with hands on his belt buckle. When you get a small nod, your fingers have never undone a belt so quickly. You pull at his pants and briefs, Colt helping by lifting his hips just enough to free himself.

And then you’re met with the glorious sight of his erect cock, already leaking from the slit. You can’t help but run your fingers along the shaft.

Colt lets out a sharp gasp, grabbing at you, unsure if he wants to push you away or ask you to do that again.

You never believed the others who said boys would react that easily, surely it took more than a few soft touches. But here’s Colt, looking at you like you’ve single handedly tilted the world on its axis with that single movement.

You sit up on your knees and Colt whines, but he quickly appreciates the action as you start to unbutton your own shirt, throwing it onto the pile of growing clothes on the floor.

You tentatively reach for his cock, a hand wrapping around the base, “You’ll tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“I’m pretty sure everything you do is going to be perfect.” Colt has his eyes on where your hand is grasping him. You smile at how transfixed he is. You lean down, still looking at his face waiting for him to make eye contact.

When he does you take the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue while still locked with his eyes.

Colt breaks first, throwing his head back, unable to feel and look at the same time.

You laugh slightly, sounding more muffled with your mouth full. You continue to suck, rotating your hand in tandem with your mouth. All while Colt moans helplessly.

“Wait, wait.” Colt gasps, his hands on the side of your head, gently pulling you back, “I don’t want to end it there.”

You smile coyly, “You want to fuck me, Colt?”

“I would, I mean, if that’s what you want to?” He’s still panting, looking quite the sight.

Nodding, you pull yourself up. And Colt reaches for you, kissing you deeply which surprises you because your mouth is filled with the taste of him.

His hands run up and down you side, squeezing you when he gets to your hips, “Are you going to take this off?”

“Okay.” Rolling off and onto your back, you shimmy out of your pants and throw them on the ground. You know Colt is staring at you. You feel a little shy under his gaze and avert your eyes to his clothing situation.

“Are you going to take yours off?”

“Shit.” He mutters, “Right.” Colt stands awkwardly pulling at his pants that makes you giggle and has Colt laughing with you.

When he’s completely naked, Colt joins you on the bed, capturing your lips. You feel his hardness pressing into your thigh with the way he’s straddling your leg. His kisses continue to the corner of your mouth, your cheek, and trails down your neck until he comes to your bra.

Looking at you for permission, you nod and watch as he pushes the fabric off your shoulder and does the same to the other side. You reach behind yourself to undo the clasp, shyly pulling it off. You’ve never been so bare in your entire life.

“You’re beautiful.” Colt breaths, a hand coming up to cup your breast. He pushes up to his knees, his thigh brushing against your covered center, and the friction makes you moan and roll your hips back against the hard muscle.

You meet each other’s eyes, both a little startled at the reaction. Colt recovers quicker than you, pressing kisses to the top of your breast, a hand still pulling and massaging the other.

He presses his weight further into you, the pressure sending jolts of lighting straight through you.

A cry leaves your mouth that you try to cover with your hand, biting into the flesh of your palm.

His hand slip further down your body until it’s dancing at the edge of your panties.

“Take them off.” You whisper, eyes fixed on the ceiling above you.

You notice Colt pause his movements and then after a beat hooks his fingers on either side, slowly pulling them down your legs. His hot breath fans over your stomach, thighs, until he’s sitting back on his heels between your legs.

His cock still painfully erect, but he’s focused on you, eyes flittering between yours and your newly displayed cunt. He places his hands on your thighs, rubbing them up and down, closer and closer to where you both want them to be.

Colt hesitates, “Will you show me what to do?”

You nod taking his hand and guiding it between your legs with your own. Placing your fingers over his, you guide him in a circular motion, “This feels the best.”

He watches the motion of both your hands. And you have to hold back a laugh because his face is so intense like he’s studying for an upcoming exam.

You remove your hand, allowing Colt to find his own rhythm.

He rubs a few circles before looking back at you for your reaction. But you don’t have to say anything because the heaving of your chest and hand grasping at the sheets is all the answer he needs.

Colt continues rubbing you while returning his mouth to one of your breasts.

You can hardly breath with the way his fingers are pulsing at your nerves and his warm tongue sloppily flicking your nipple. You gasp when you feel a slight pinch that must have been teeth and cry out, “Fingers!” Colt’s face jumps up with confusion written across it, but he doesn’t stop his movements which makes it hard for you to explain, “You fingers. Put them in.” You’re rotating your hips in tandem with his hand, thrusting wishing for something to fill you up.

Colt must understand because a second later you feel a finger rubbing your opening. You’re about to complain again when Colt decides to take mercy and pushes one inside.

It’s all over for you there. The sudden stretching paired with his constant movements on your clit and warm body pressed into you, it sends you over the edge. Colt doesn’t stop though, lost in the look on your face. He couldn’t bear to move his eyes right now, not when you’re crying out like that because of him.

He can feel you pulsing around his fingers even though he’s barely moved them.

You cry out, trying to lock your legs together, but his body stops you from barely being able to move them, and you have to grip his wrist to rip his hand off of you, the stimulation being too much.

Panting heavily, you feel Colt withdraw his finger, and you whine at the loss. But then you see Colt sucking the finger into his mouth, wet with your slick. You almost cum again at the sight.

“Can I do what you did for me?”

You smile at his eagerness, “Maybe later? Right now, I really want you in me.”

His eyes widen at your boldness, “Oh, okay. Umm, how do you want to do it?”

Sitting up you grab his cheek for a kiss, the taste of yourself filling your senses. Gently pushing his shoulder, Colt lays down giving you the opportunity to swing a leg over his hip, “Is this okay?”

“More than okay.”

You smile before slowly grinding your slit along his cock. The feel of your slick coating him has Colt gasping for air. Reaching between the two of you, you grasp his cock, holding it as you line yourself up.

You slowly lower yourself on to the tip of his cock. The stretch burns more than you thought it would, and immediately pause the movement.

Colt freezes, going rigid under you that causes a pulse in your cunt, “Are you okay?”

It’s hard to find the words to explain the pain but also the pleasure and desire to go harder “You feel so big, Colt.”

“Oh.” He blushes, which earns a giggle from you. And it’s a slow process after, only taking a little bit of him in at a time.

Colt can barely utter a word, too transfixed on all of you. From your wide eyes to tits in his face and cunt slowly sucking in his cock. He has to clench his eyes to avoid ending this all too soon.

You exhale sharply when he finally bottom’s out, his cock is splitting you in half. And he looks so sweet under you, so you can’t help but to caress the side of his face, fingers dancing along his cheek, “You’re doing so good.”

His jaw is dropped and digs his hands into the flesh of your hips to ground himself. “Please.” He whines, “Please move.”

“You have to be quiet for me baby.” You slowly rise on your knees, hands planted on his chest for balance, before slamming down harder than you meant to, both of you letting out a groan, his louder than yours. You lean down and let your lips brush over his ear, “Unless you want the other warriors to hear us?”

Colt’s eyes snap open and search yours frantically. It’s clear the thought turns him on if the twitching of his cock is anything to go by.

You hum as you rock forward, “Want everyone to know how good you’re giving it to me right now? On your first try and you already have me creaming all over your cock.”

Colt doesn’t answer, can’t answer. Captivated with sight of his cock repeatedly disappearing into your cunt, sucking him in over and over and over.

You use your free hands to pull at your nipples, twisting the sensitive nubs.

“Please.” He mutters, eyes screwing shut, “I think I’m going to cum.”

“Not yet baby.” You tilt your head back, you’re almost there, and it feels amazing. You can’t believe you’re actually going to cum with Colt’s cock inside you. All the nights pretending it was your fingers could never match up to this.

“Slow down.” Colt holds your hips tighter, trying to change your movements, “You have to slow down.”

“Just a little bit longer.” You take his hands and hold them above his head, “Can you be good for me just a little bit longer?” Colt’s eyes are wide on yours as he gives a slight nod. You smile leaning down to capture his lips, tongue sliding along his. He groans into your mouth and you know you’re getting him closer and closer to his edge. And it really isn’t your fault when you clench around his cock, earning a strangled gasp he’s barely able to choke out.

The world shifts suddenly as you’re flipped onto your back with a squeak leaving your mouth.

Colt pulls out to stand on his knees before wrapping his hands into your thighs hard enough that it’ll surely bruise and buries himself back into the hilt, knocking the air out of you.

“I. Told. You. To. Slow. Down.” He punctuates every word with a hard thrust that has you seeing stars.

“Colt, please!” You cry, reaching for him to pull him into a kiss but he only grabs your hand, trapping it between his and the bed, getting a little more leverage as he continues to pound into you.

Colt doesn’t say much, focusing on holding off his impeding orgasm until he can get you there. He hitches your leg higher around his waist, giving it an almost stinging slap, but you get the message and wrap both your legs around him, locking your ankles.

He slides his hand downward until he reaches the bundle of nerves you showed him earlier, and presses begins pressing tight circles into it.

“Yes, yes!” You begin to pant, your legs starting to shake from the pressure building, “Don’t stop!” Suddenly you tense up, legs locking in place and eyes rolling into the back of your head. You feel Colt work you through the orgasm, stroking that spot inside you again and again that you swear makes you cum for a third time that night.

Going limp, you let your legs fall to the bed and head lull to the side. Colt’s thrust become more erratic before he pulls out, pumping his cock once, twice, and spills out. Warm ropes hit you stomach and breasts. You don’t even have time to think about it before Colt is collapsing on top of you, harshly panting into your neck.

You both lay there, sweat cooling on your skin that makes you shiver slightly.

“That was,” Colt trails off, still trying to piece his brain back together. It makes you smile to see him so off kilter for once.

Bringing your hands up to his jaw, you pull him back slightly, “Yeah, it was.” And press your lips to his, not really kissing since you’re both smiling too much.

And that smile stays on Colt’s face all through the night and next morning as he walks you back to the training grounds. Only widening after you press a kiss to his lips before quickly ducking into the building.

“So, you worked things out with your friend?” Colt looks up to see War Chief Zeke behind him smoking a cigarette, and Colt can’t help but blush at the fact Zeke might have just witnessed your goodbye, “No need to be flustered.” Zeke drops his cigarette on the ground, stomping out the embers, before tossing the extra catcher’s mitt into Colt’s hands, “Nowhere near as graphic as what we all had to endure last night.”

And only then is when Colt’s smile finally falls.

But maybe you can get it back later tonight.

#colt grice x reader #colt grice #aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader

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def-initely-soul · 3 years

Text

house rules {2}

pairing: jimin x reader (f.)

genre: fluff; angst; roommates au; kinda new girl au; smut; f2l au

rating: explicit

warnings: sexual content; mention of emotional abuse; mention of manipulative relationship; mention of body issues; explicit smut

words: 19.6k

summary:

↠ {living with two guys has always its pros and cons. Pros being someone will always get you popcorn for your midnight cravings. Cons being you might like one of them…?} ↞

or alternatively, the shenanigans of five friends, where two of them are in a loving relationship, one is Kim Seokjin and the other two don’t know what the fuck they’re doing

Next morning, on Christmas eve, you try to be as nonchalant as you can. Thankfully your walls are thick enough so no one took notice of your late-night shenanigans and what happened between you before Hoseok’s interruption was barely anything out of the ordinary.

Thankfully you get yourself distracted with the preparations for this evening. Every year the five of you plan a traditional Christmas dinner, idea courtesy of Hoseok’s and Seokjin’s minds, where every single one of you was assigned to different tasks.

Seokjin is in charge of the roasted turkey, as he is every year, Hoseok will cook his famous vanilla-roasted sweet potatoes, Jimin will prepare a cauliflower soup and Ana is always in charge of the desert. This year choosing the recipe of a Buche de Noel.

You’re left with the simple task of making smooth mashed potatoes and bringing the booze.

Even though simpler than what others have to do, it gives you time to be alone and focus on something else other than Jimin. Whether you’re cooking or going to the store to pick up the alcohol, your time is productively filled with anything other than thoughts of him.

You take a nap around midday, leaving the kitchen free for the guys to use. Taking a hold of this opportunity to stay clear of Jimin’s gaze. You make sure your interactions are limited between the lines of what is only necessary, even when the preparations are done and you sit around the table.

Ana and Seokjin arrive together, the turkey the size of a small TV, which Seokjin himself puts on the table. Not letting anyone else help him or carve it, flashbacks of last year when Jimin tried to carve it and nearly dropped it still etched to everyone’s memory.

You help Ana move the desert to the fridge for later, and as all of you take your places at the dinner table, you feel a particular set of eyes on you.

Thankfully you don’t sit next to him so you don’t have any one-on-one conversation like you do with Seokjin sitting to your right. You only talk to him when the conversation involves the whole group and that’s only to not alert anyone that something is off.

Your mind is swarmed with memories of Jimin’s look. With the way he’s looking at you now.

You ignore it in favour of talking to Ana at the end of the table as she rumbles excitedly about the party next week. You immerse yourself in that conversation, going lightly over some details and pouring another glass of wine as Seokjin passionately joins you.

Although, even if you’re engrossed to something else you can’t help but notice one thing.

He never mentions Dinah.

And that gives you magnificent, dreadful hope.

It’s New Year's Eve, and you’re in an awfully good mood.

The party is in full bloom, the essence of joy and excitement wafting through the air, people dancing their worries away and laughing under the neon-lights (Ana really went all-in in the decoration department), having fun in what can only be a fitting welcome for a bright New Year.

The mulled wine has gotten slightly into you, landing you in that perfect spot between sober and tipsy, just enough to elevate your already high spirits. Besides you’re also celebrating finally finishing your book. It’s been a bitch of a struggle but finally, you’ve gone and did it. Finally booking an appointment with a publishing company that took an interest in you after reading one of your drafts you’ve previously sent them.

And well. Dinah isn’t here.

“I cannot believe I’m talking to the next Stephen King!” Hoseok yaps excitedly, throwing an arm around your shoulder, voice raised higher than normal due to the several “old-fashioned” he managed to throw back.

You grunt from the sudden weight as he leans a bit too much on your side to stand up. “Okay, step it down a notch, buddy,” you chuckle, patting him on the shoulder.

He thinks it over before-. “Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?”

Your eyes widen, an involuntary laugh escaping you. “I said step it down a notch, not climb the whole mcfreakin ladder?” Hoseok giggles happily, before his eyes rest on the hostess, who’s currently talking to a coworker, gleeful smile in full bloom.

He waves at you to lean closer to him and you oblige. “See that girl over there?” he whispers to you conspiratory, pointing at Ana who seems oblivious to your conversation. You chuckle at his drunk antics but decide to appease him and nod.

A blissful smile takes over his lips. “Imma marry her someday.”

You barely keep your smile at bay. Honestly, Hoseok is whipped for Ana and anyone who doesn’t see that is blind, so it doesn’t sound weird coming from him. You’re willing to bet his wish is gonna come true someday. It’s just a matter of time.

Though you’re happy for your friends, you can’t let this teasing opportunity pass you by.

“Hey, champ, I got some bad news for you…” you press your lips together in mock-sadness and Hoseok’s face falls.

“She has a boyfriend,” you deliver the final blow and his eyes widen. Before he bursts into tears.

At least a couple of people stare at you, as Hoseok bawls his eyes out and you can’t stop cackling. Oh, god, you didn’t know he was this drunk, he was perfectly fine moments ago! Although to be perfectly candid, he has a low alcohol tolerance, so really this one is on you.

Ana shows up after a few seconds, worry etched into her features after seeing her boyfriend cry like a baby. “What happened? Are you okay?” she asks him, obviously more sober than him, but once she sees you laughing, her eyes narrow. “What did you do to him?”

You shrug, your expression being the poster-child for innocence. “Nothing! I just told him you have a boyfriend.”

This sends another wave of tears down Hoseok’s cheeks and Ana laughs incredulously.

“Is it true? Do you have a boyfriend” Hoseok struggles to ask through his hiccups and Ana can’t repress the lovesick smile on her lips.

“Yes and he’s a giant baby.”

“Does that mean I still have a chance?”

Ana chuckles before pressing a kiss on Hoseok’s pouty lips. “It’s you, you dufus! Now, come on, let’s get you to lay down…”

“Really?” he says with the most childlike smile you’ve ever seen on him. And only seconds later it turns into a smirk. "Oh, I will lay down, I will lay down so hard that you-” he struggles to complete his sentence, “that you’ll want to lay down with me…”

You groan out loud, not ready for the scene to turn into an NSFW one. “Are you horny all the time?” you complain out loud and the couple raises their brows at you.

“...Already know the answer to that one. Thank you very much five years of living together!” you admit regrettably and Ana tsks you.

“Serves you right for having the nerve to terrorize the sun himself!”

“That’s me!” Hoseok points to himself with a proud smile and you press your lips together to stop the giggles from escaping as Ana rolls her eyes fondly at her boyfriend.

“I’ll get him to my room-” Hoseok finger guns her, winks and blows her a kiss, “could you please make him some coffee?” Ana pleads you as she struggles to push a drunk Hoseok down the hall.

“You got it, babe! I’m gonna roast this coffee so bad, it’s gonna go running to its momma!” you announce in the spur of the moment, but Ana just looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Doesn’t work for me, does it?” Ana just shakes her head and you huff. “I’ll go get the coffee…”

You drive through the crowd, barely avoiding the drinks spilling left and right and finally reach the kitchen. Thankfully there’s only like a couple of people around, so you reach for the french press easily, adding the coffee grounds and warming some water in the microwave.

“Why on earth are you having coffee with so much alcohol around and why does that weirdly make sense for you?” Jimin enters your vision, resting his hip on the counter in a mirror of your stance and you have to take a breath.

His dark blue hair is slicked back, revealing the magnificence of his eyebrows (yeap, that’s another spot of Jimin you’re weak about). He’s dressed in all black; black jeans, black T-shirt with an open neckline, a leather belt hugging closely at his hips, a dangly earring gracing his earlobe and a silver chain resting against his glistening collarbones. He has been dancing and all you wanna do is dive in and bite at the skin of his neck, glinting welcoming under the dimmed lights.

Focus.

“Give me a break, it’s not even for me…” you joke back, just in time to cover up your little zone-out. Jimin stares back confused.

“Who then-?” he makes a sound of realization before he chuckles. “Hoseok,” he responds and you nod, a giggle already on your lips.

After Christmas eve, when you refused to even speak to him, things became less weird. It seems like the two days you spent actively avoiding each other helped in restoring the dynamics back to normality. You’re not even sure who made the first move but after a few days, you were back to normal, as if that thing on the couch never happened.

Maybe it is for the best to pretend it never happened. No feelings are going to get hurt this way.

“Yeap, Ana took him back to her bedroom,” you reply, moving to pour the water into the french press.

Jimin raises an unconvinced eyebrow as he hands you a mug. “And are you sure they’re not gonna fuck back there?”

You take the mug with an appreciative nod. “Honestly, they’re probably fucking right now on their way there. Maybe they are, maybe they’re not. Maybe I’ll be scarred for the rest of my life walking into that and maybe I won’t.”

“And you’ll take those chances?” Jimin chuckles incredulously and you almost swoon at the way his smile lights up the room.

“This coffee won’t deliver itself!” you joke and Jimin’s smile turns bigger.

“Your service is greatly appreciated!” he says with an awful British accent and proceeds to laugh.

“Well, thank you good sir!” you play into it with a curtsy and both of you burst into happy, slightly intoxicated giggles.

Your eyes rest on the french press as the coffee grounds seep into the water and it’s like your lips have a mind of their own when they ask the following question.

“So, alone tonight?” you ask with fake nonchalance and you swear Jimin tenses.

You can’t help yourself. From the moment you realized Dinah was absent you wanted to know why. They’ve been dating for almost a month, so that means they’d still be all over each other, you figured they’d want to spend New Year's together.

So how come Dinah isn’t here?

Jimin nods, eyes absentmindedly following your fingers as they trace the marble counter.

“What happened to Dinah? Didn’t want to spend New Years with our ugly asses?” you joke, hoping to lift the tension off his shoulders and rejoice when Jimin cracks a smile.

“No, no. Actually, her friends are throwing a party too…” he simply says, not giving you another explanation even though something else clearly bothers him. You don’t ask further, figuring he’ll tell you if he wants to, so you move to press the plunger down and pour the brown liquid into the cup Jimin handed you earlier.

“And I actually didn’t …” he hesitates, biting his bottom lip.

God, this is straight-up torture.

“Didn’t…?” you urge him on, sensing his desire to say whatever’s bothering him.

He takes a breath.

“Didn’t have the need to invite her…?” he admits, eyes on the steaming cup of coffee, struggling to put his thoughts into words as you stare at him utterly confused. He didn’t have the need to invite her? Like, he didn’t care if she was here?

No, Y/N, don’t get your hopes up.

Jimin huffs, running a hand through his hair.

“I mean.. I didn’t want to.”

And you find him staring at you again, with those intense, magnetic eyes and your breath is sucked out of your lungs.

He didn’t want to invite her. Why? What does it mean? Why did he do it?

And why is he looking at you like that?

Did he-?

“Surprise!” a familiar female voice echoes through the kitchen as Dinah throws herself literally against Jimin, hugging his waist with an excited smile. No concern in her eyes over your panicked faces.

You don’t know if she heard your conversation but if she did, she doesn’t show it.

Jimin’s wide, panicked eyes travel between you and Dinah. “Dinah, what are you doing here? I thought you were spending New Year’s at Minoh’s?” he turns around to bring her forward and the intimacy hiding in the domestic action drives a knife through your chest.

“That party was boring as hell. And I missed you,” she says with a blinding smile and leans in to press a soft kiss on Jimin’s lips, ripping your heart in two.

You can’t stand this. You can’t stand to watch as she kisses him right in front of you and you feel like an outsider, glimpsing at something you long for but can’t have. Is it always gonna be this hard?

You swallow the lump in your throat, gripping the cup tighter and force a smile on your lips just in time for the couple to miss your crestfallen expression.

It’s time to get out of here.

“That’s great! You’re just in time to spend New Year’s together!” you exclaim with forceful enthusiasm and Dinah nods excitedly as Jimin looks at you with an indecipherable expression. “You’ll have to excuse me, I have to deliver this bad boy!” you smile, pointing at the mug and you start walking away, already waiting for the moment you don’t have to keep that smile on your face any longer.

That seems to wake Jimin up as his eyes widen. “Wait, Y/N, I didn’t-”

“Have fun at the party!” you interrupt him, keeping the smile on for a little longer, before you turn your back at them, smile disappearing, steps fast as you miss Jimin’s face filled with despair.

Your steps bring you back to the living room, already having delivered the coffee to Ana’s room. Although Jimin’s suspicions were correct and you walked into a scene you’d rather forget, closing your eyes to avoid any more damage on your retina, resulting in you leaving the couple with a half-spilt coffee.

Not that they’ll be needing it now anyway.

Stepping into the main area of the party you can’t help the sour mood that takes over you, watching everyone have a good time. You were also having a good time until Dinah arrived.

Which reminds you. What did Jimin mean back then? Was it just stupid you with your tendency to read way too much into things or did he actually mean what you wanted him to?

And if he did, why is he still dancing with her?

Your eyes are stuck to the couple in question, dancing in the middle of the living room as a mid-tempo dance track plays through the speakers, Dinah’s hands wrapped around Jimin’s waist as he sways her softly to the beat.

The night started out so well. You were having fun, for once all worries put aside as you didn’t have to think about the book or Dinah, or Jimin. You were happy.

But then someone decided to shit all over that happiness and you were back to the beginning. Having your heart broken by your best friend and he doesn’t even know.

You take a breath to calm the erratic beating of your cracking heart when you see a too familiar face emerging from the kitchen.

Oh no, what is Jaehyun doing here?

You move quickly, dreading to talk to him, hoping he won’t see you but, alas, luck was never on your side.

His eyes spot you all the way across the room, with numerous people in between like he has laser vision or something. A smile takes over his lips as he waves at you and begins walking towards you.

God, no. No, you can’t deal with him right now. He’ll probably want another date and you know he deserves to know the truth but you just can’t do it right now.

You’re quick to move to the balcony, trying to lose him through the crown but his voice keeps calling you even outside. You slip through the people and into the living room, stopping to see him briefly lose you as his eyes scan the balcony.

You escape into the kitchen, hoping he won’t look for you here and in your hastiness to hide, you fall face-first into Seokjin’s chest.

“Fuck, sorry, you need to move!” you say urgently, trying to hide behind the massive wall he calls his shoulders.

Seokjin regards you with a suspicious glare. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to hide from Jaehyun!” you bite through gritted teeth as your eyes scan the open area behind you. With relief you realise Jaehyun isn’t anywhere near, just a bunch of other people and Jimin talking with Dinah and Hoseok.

Your heart still clenches uncomfortably when Seokjin interrupts your thoughts.

“Why are you hiding from Jaehyun? Didn’t the date go well?” he asks you purely confused and with guilt, you realize you never told him nor Ana that you bailed.

You bite your lip. “I didn’t go…”

Seokjin’s eyes widen comically. “What?! Why?! I thought you wanted to!”

You groan rubbing your palm on your face. “I just… didn’t feel like it anymore! And now he’s here, looking for me and I don’t know what to do! Who invited him anyway?”

At that Seokjin has the decency to look guilty. “I may have seen him at the coffee shop and invited him… But in my defence I didn’t even know you bailed on him!” he looks at you with a scolding glare and another groan leaves your lips.

“Oh, shit here he comes…” Seokjin looks carefully behind you and you steal a glance to indeed see Jaehyun stepping into the living room and walking straight towards you.

“Okay, fuck, let me think…” you mumble in thought when you see something on the ceiling, hanging just a few centimetres behind Seokjin.

“Got it!” you exclaim, and when Seokjin doesn’t follow, you push him back so both of you stand right beneath the thing hanging from the ceiling and then you point at it, knowing he’ll catch the drift.

Seokjin’s eyes follow your fingers, only to widen in horror when they rest at what you're pointing at.

Mistletoe.

“No! No, no, no, I’m not kissing you so you can get rid of him!” he hisses, eyes swimming in denial and disbelief. But you narrow your eyes at him.

“It’s your fault he’s here! So step the fuck up Kyle!” you hiss back and Seokjin looks less than thrilled.

“Don’t quote vines to me, you heathen, I won’t hesitate bitch!” he responds and you know you’re halfway winning him over.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this…” you reply, mastering the perfect puppy eyes.

The sound of his favourite vine has him yielding in a matter of seconds, choking back a laugh before he rolls his eyes. “Fine. But we gotta hurry up, he’s almost here,” Seokjin relents, eyes falling behind you.

“Buckle up,” is the only thing you say before grasping Seokjin’s panicked face and press your mouths together.

You stay like that for a few seconds, simply pressing your lips together like an awful K-drama kiss though there’s no romantic music playing in the background. The kiss is at its best… underwhelming. That’s what you were lusting after all those years? It certainly doesn’t live up to the expectations.

You lean back, staring at Seokjin who barely manages to conceal his weirded out face. “Is he gone?” you whisper and Seokjin nods in relief.

“Yes, he’s gone…” he mumbles, letting out a breath as you let his face free and take a step back, finally breathing freely.

“Don’t ever do that again!” he exclaims, his words followed by a loud gagging noise.

“Anything for you Beyonce!” you say, sharing the sentiment and you grab a random shot glass on the counter, to wash out the feeling of Seokjin’s clumsy mouth on yours.

“We don’t tell anyone. We take this to the grave and live the rest of our lives feeling slightly awkward with each other. Sounds good?” Seokjin states with wide eyes and you laugh at his seriousness.

“Ay, ay, captain! Now take a shot with me to erase the memory for good!” you say, filling two glasses with tequila and you hand him one.

“To forgetting this ever happened!” he raises his shot and you follow his movements before downing the contents of the glass.

“Amen to that.”

Half an hour later, its time for the countdown so the New Year can officially begin.

The automatic clock on Ana’s TV screen reads 23:59:03 and you rush to gather your friends together in one place, so the New Year can find all five of you together as it has for the last four years.

The rest of the attendees also gather in groups; friends, couples, coworkers, newly made acquaintances but all shimmering with the vibrating delight to welcome the New Year and the opportunities that are bound to come.

Ana and Hoseok are already counting down the numbers - admittedly a bit too early -, and Seokjin passes you four tequila shots to celebrate once the clock strikes midnight. But then he’s left with an extra one and realization strucks you.

“Hey, where’s Jimin? He’s supposed to be here!” you yell to be heard amidst the loud chattering of the crowd, but your question remains unanswered when Seokjin shrugs his shoulders in loss.

Ana looks around to find said-man but it’s Hoseok that finally puts an end to the mystery. “Uh, actually he went home!”

Your eyebrows furrow, confusion apparent in your eyes. He’s never missed out on this! How could he leave? You always spent New Year’s together, the five of you, it was your unique tradition, one you’ve expected him to keep up with.

Maybe he was feeling a bit under the weather, you try to reason with yourself. Let’s not get mad at him before knowing the whole story.

“Wait, so he left without telling anyone? Is he okay? Did he even tell Dinah he’d leave?” you question back, aware of Ana & Seokjin’s wary gazes but you don’t bother to acknowledge them.

Thankfully, Hoseok still isn’t entirely sober to notice them either and start asking questions.

He just shakes his head at you. “Oh, no, they both left. Oh, the countdown’s started!”

As people begin shouting along with the voice on the TV you can’t help but stare aimlessly into space.

They both left. Jimin ditched you, all four of you to spend New Year’s with Dinah. Alone.

And it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

It shouldn’t feel as much as a personal attack but it does. He left all four of you but it still feels like he specifically left you behind. As if he doesn’t care anymore. Before all that the chance of the two of you ever happening was abysmal. But it was still there, however small. You were fine with that cause at least you knew he valued you as a friend.

Now, you’re not even sure of that anymore.

You should be fine with him leaving. You’re just his friend.

And yet the heartbreak is overbearing.

Seokjin looks at you carefully as Hoseok keeps counting down to one, entirely unaware of what just happened as Ana counts with him but her eyes are on you.

You give her and Seokjin a weak smile, before averting your eyes quickly to count as well, not bearing to see the looks of pity in their eyes.

You hate this.

The clock strikes midnight.

You’ve never felt more alone.

The next morning finds you exhausted when you wake up on Seokjin’s couch. You’re not sure you could handle going back to the apartment and having Dinah and Jimin across the hall from you. Hoseok was going to spend the night at Ana’s, meaning firstly he kinda gave Jimin the pass to run wild and secondly you couldn’t crash at Ana’s. Of course, she insisted it was okay but you didn’t want to cockblock her on New Year’s. So Seokjin offered his home as an alternative which you happily accepted.

You’re dreading to go back to your flat, though already knowing it’s an inevitable curse, you leave a note for Seokjin to find when he wakes up and then you leave his apartment.

On the way home, you wonder if you should trek over to the donut shop around the corner for some heavenly delicacies but then you’d have to buy Jimin and Dinah some. And that is simply something you’re not willing to do.

Hopefully, they’ll be both asleep when you arrive, too tired to be up at 10 am on New Year’s, so you’ll get your chance to quietly slip into your room and avoid everyone for the rest of the week.

Maybe even a month until those stupid feelings finally decide to disappear.

You try your best to be as soundless as possible when you unlock the front door. You enter the living room on your tiptoes, closing the door quietly behind you before moving to throw your coat on the hanger.

The moment you think you’re alone passes by quickly when you hear the door of the fridge being shut and immediately turn around to see Jimin staring at you with bleary eyes. His hair is a mess as he’s clad in a white T-shirt and grey sweatpants as his pjs, a cup of what must be steaming coffee on one hand as the other runs through his locks. You find yourself salivating.

“Where did you go this early in the morning?” his gruff voice comes out, purely confused and before you get to correct him, his eyes fall on your figure. And he realizes you’re still dressed the same as last night.

“Did you just get here?” he asks, his voice a tad too sharp and accusing to be considered friendly and your arms wrap around your middle protectively.

“Uh, yeah… I crashed at Seokjin’s… Too tired to come back after helping Ana clean up…” you joke, forcing a laugh to hopefully ease the sudden tension hanging in the air.

Though your airy laugh doesn’t reach Jimin. Instead, his eyes are fixed on the wall to his right, jaw tense in what seems almost as anger before he takes a quick sip of his coffee and slum the cup on the counter.

“Ugh… are you okay-?” your confusion is apparent in your voice as Jimin walks off the kitchen, down the hallway.

“I’m going back to sleep…” he mumbles through clenched teeth before he disappears inside his bedroom and closes the door with a loud bang.

You stare weirdly at his door, bewildered by his entire behaviour but you’re still too sleepy to let it get to you. So instead you opt for crawling over to your room and hide beneath the covers.

The days after New Year’s turn out weirder and weirder to the point of questioning your mental state.

Seokjin still feels somewhat awkward around you after the kiss but instead of avoiding you, as any normal human being would do, he actively seeks you out, clinging to you and following you around like a shadow, as if the over-exposure will help him get rid of the awkwardness faster.

True to your words, none of you have said anything about it to the others, so you were half waiting for everyone to be immediately weirded out by Seokjin’s sudden display of affection. But apart from Ana that gave you some scarce confused looks, the other two haven’t made a single comment, as if this is a completely normal situation. They barely blink when even yourself gets creeped out from Seokjin’s insistent coddling.

Which brings you to the other weird thing happening in the flat.

Jimin barely talks to you anymore.

You don’t have the slightest idea why. If you said something, or done something that offended him, you’re none the wiser. And how are you supposed to know when he barely greets you in the morning?

Every time you attempt conversation, there’s always something he has to do, which sounds completely ironic, given you were the one that kinda did the same before.

Not to cover your own ass but you did that for the sake of your friendship! If Jimin ever finds out you’re into him, you can’t bear to think the effect this might have on your friendship.

Whereas Jimin might as well be angry over such a small thing as you using his earbuds.

It wouldn’t have bothered you that much if it wasn’t for Dinah.

Well, she barely does anything, it's just that Jimin always goes to her when he has the chance. Nights spent with all five of you together munching on popcorn in front of the TV, turn into awkward gatherings as Ana and Hoseok pair up against you and Seokjin, leaving the two of you cringing whenever the couple does something too coupley.

At New Year’s Eve, he practically admitted he wasn’t that much into her anymore and now he’s always with her. Did he lie back then? And if so why?

Everything is wrong and you don’t know how to fix it.

If only Jimin hadn’t begun dating Dinah, none of this would’ve happened. You wouldn’t have realised you liked him, he wouldn’t have spent so much time with her, he wouldn’t abandon the four of you for her.

Although, a small part of you screams you would’ve realised you liked Jimin either way. It wasn’t about Dinah.

And yet you can’t help the loathing that emerges like bile in your throat when you hear her name.

Or when Jimin, after two weeks of avoiding the rest of you, announces you are to throw a dinner so you can get to know her better.

You feel the headache splitting your skull open.

It’s nearly impossible to hide your sour mood once Dinah steps into the apartment.

A switch has flipped and where there was a smile from joking around with Ana, now there’s a permanent scowl on your face as you refuse to even acknowledge the newcomer, as she greets the rest of your friends.

Once she says hello to you too, you mumble something that resembles a greeting, not even bothering to look at her direction, as Ana regards you with a warning glare.

Deep down you know most of your attitude comes from Jimin’s behaviour these last couple of days, and Dinah’s direct contribution is only at roughly 10%. But you’re stubborn, immature and putting the blame on her seems like an easy way to cope with the situation and the hurricane of feelings swirling in your mind.

No one said it’s the right one. But for now, it’s what keeps you from hiding in your bedroom and wallowing in self-pity. Not that you won’t do that later.

You result in setting the table with Hoseok in silence, not really in the mood to talk, as everyone else sits in the living room and you catch glimpses of their conversation.

Seokjin and Ana talk about a new addition Seokjin wants to put on the menu of his restaurant, while Jimin and Dinah dally on the other side of the room.

You think you’re gonna barf.

“Ugh… Y/N are you okay?”

You turn around at the voice, surprised to see Hoseok stare at you with confused and worried eyes. Shit, did he sniff out something?

“Ah, yes! Why?” you put forward your most cheery voice in the hopes it will throw him off.

“‘Cause you keep stabbing the meat with the forks…” he comments carefully, leaning a bit backwards as his worry grows, once your confused eyes meet his.

And then you look back to the meat and, surely, all the forks you were supposed to pass around the table are stabbed into the steaks on the centre of the table.

Your eyes widen as you press your lips together in horror. God, why can’t you just behave for once?

You rush to remove all the utensils, dumping them into the sink and you pick out new ones, as Hoseok keeps staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m fine!” you respond with a clipped voice and you’re not sure what Hoseok hears in your voice but he drops it, in favour of placing the napkins around the table. Though you can still feel his weirded-out stare from time to time.

Once the table is set, Hoseok calls for everyone to gather around and one by one flock to their seats.

And as you put the finishing touches, you can’t help but hear Jimin’s conversation with Dinah.

“We have ice cream for dessert, you’re gonna love this one, it’s heavenly!” he says with excitement.

“Oh, only if it’s vegan, me and regular milk don’t go along…” she jokes and as Jimin says he’ll have someone check, an idea pops into your head. A petty, childish idea but it gives you some purpose for now.

So, she’s lactose intolerant? It would surely be a shame if she were to eat normal ice cream.

And by “shame” you mean hilarious.

The little voice in the back of your head berates you for acting so immature but at this moment you desperately need this. You can be salty for one evening.

What’s the harm?

Once everyone’s plates are empty, the lot of you migrate to the living room, as you stay in the kitchen to get the ice cream out of the freezer.

Jimin told Ana to ask you to check for the ice cream some time ago, -can you believe it, he didn’t even ask you! He had to talk to Ana for god’s sake-, and you did. But just as you’d suspected it wasn’t vegan.

So your plan is good to go.

You have Seokjin help you carry the bowls of ice cream to the living room and you pass each one around as they’re expected with excited noises.

Ana almost moans at the delicious flavour and Hoseok chuckles at his girlfriend’s antics as you sit next to Seokjin and dive straight into your own bowl.

During dinner it seemed everyone got along just fine with Dinah, talking and joking together as if she’s been a part of this group for a long time. And it bothers you even more.

You also recognize her attempts to get close to you as well but really you can’t be bothered. It comes to the point where she talked to you and all you did is give her a one-word answer before turning your attention somewhere else.

Though right at this moment your attention is solely on her as she takes a scoop out of her ice cream.

“Mmm, it’s really good!” she says excitedly to a smiling Jimin, as she swoops in for another spoon.

But after a few seconds, her eyebrows scrunch in confusion, as she keeps the ice cream in her mouth, looking as if she’s trying to figure out something. You can barely contain your gloating.

“Uhm, this ice cream is vegan right?” she rushes to say, eyes growing just a bit wider with what seems like panic.

Ana turns to look at you and you answer with the most innocent look you can manage, acting like you just realised you didn’t.

“Oh, oops! I guess I forgot to check, sorry! Why, are you lactose intolerant?” you respond in the first complete sentence you’ve given her tonight, internally gloating at her misfortune.

She swallows, her eyes widen even more, traces of fear growing in them. “Ugh, no-”

What does she mean no?

“I’m allergic.”

At once every conversation ceases, all eyes resting on her, wide in shock.

Fuck.

Jimin is the first to react.

“What?! Shit. Are you okay, should we take you to a hospital?” he asks in panic, placing the ice cream as further away from her as he can while you’re left staring at her in horror.

“Well, since I can feel my tongue thwelling, I thay we thould,” she comments shaking, losing the ability to pronounce the letter “s” as more time passes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you struggle to say, full of remorse, but no one seems to hear you as the situation goes haywire.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen!

Seokjin is immediately on his feet. “I’ll drive you there, you guys clean up here okay?” he commands urgently and as you feel the guilt overwhelming you, you stand up form your spot in an instant.

“I’ll come with!” your voice trembles as you reach for your bag while Jimin and Seokjin help Dinah out of the apartment hurriedly.

But as soon as you speak Jimin’s furious eyes are on you.

“I think you’ve done enough.”

And then he slams the door behind them.

You’re left staring at the piece of wood with trembling eyes, as Ana and Hoseok simply stare at you, Hoseok’s eyes wide in shock as yours while Ana’s are filled with disappointment.

You. Fucking. Idiot.

It’s almost four hours later when Jimin and Seokjin return, finding only Hoseok in the living room waiting for them as he asks them how it went.

But Jimin doesn’t bother answering him as he instead marches with loud, angry steps towards your room.

On the other side of the door, your nails are nearly non-existent from all the nervous thinking that has plagued your mind for the last few hours. Your texts to both of them asking how Dinah was, were left unanswered and you were left brewing in your own nerves.

Until the door opens and Jimin walks in.

You freeze in your spot once your eyes meet his and see the undecipherable expression on his face.

You only manage to mumble a guilt-ridden “hi” and he closes the door behind him as he closes his eyes and takes a deep, calming breath.

Although it seems to not do much.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!”

Your answer is immediate, full of regret. “I know, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Is she okay?” you ask, out of your wits with panic as you wait for him to answer.

He seems too tired, too exhausted as he responds. “They gave her an antihistamine, she’ll be fine,” he says with a sigh but then his eyes are full of rage as they rest on you again. “But do you realize what might have happened if we were a bit late?! She could have died!” he yells at you, voice full of unbridled outrage as his eyes grow even more with the passing of time and you feel smaller and smaller.

“I’m sorry!-” you repeat again, feeling incredibly awful with what you’ve done, “-I thought she was just lactose intolerant, not allergic!” you say in hopes of redeeming yourself even just a bit but maybe this wasn’t the right thing to say as it seems Jimin’s anger only grows.

“This isn’t the fucking point, Y/N!”, you flinch at the volume of his voice, “The point is you've been trying to sabotage this for weeks! You think I haven't seen the side-glances and the mocking giggles?! I fucking know you don’t like her but couldn’t you just pretend for my sake? Do you have to go to such lengths to let us all know you hate her?!” he spits at you with wild eyes and you fight the urge to wrap your arms around your frame.

“I didn’t poison her on purpose…” you mumble in explanation and your eyes stare at your feet, not daring to look at him, drowning in shame.

“No, but all the other things were!” he refutes with impatience, but then he sighs. His shoulders fall down but his jaw’s still clenched. “Why can’t you just be happy for me? I know what she did better than anyone, believe me, but people are allowed a second chance, and frankly, it’s not your place to decide if she deserves it or not. All I was asking of you was to be decent towards her because I was stupid enough to think you’re my friend above everything and you’d respect my wishes!” he confesses, face crest-fallen and what you once feared, -him looking like this because of you-, has finally come true. You can feel your eyes watering but you can do nothing to stop them.

“I am your friend!” you respond desperately with pleading eyes, trying to stop him from questioning how much he means to you. If only he knew exactly how much.

“Are you really?”, he questions back, “Because the rest of the guys are my friends too and they don’t have a problem with her. It’s just you! And if you can’t accept her and be happy for me then…” he stops, eyes falling on the floor, refusing to meet your gaze and you have an awful feeling blooming in the pit of your stomach.

“...Then we’re better off as just roommates,” he delivers the final blow.

You can’t believe your ears. There’s no way, no way.

You feel your throat closing up. “...You don’t mean that…” you mumble in denial, eyes blurry and voice almost breaking at the possibility of losing your best friend.

Jimin still refuses to look at you, his lips pursed as he shakes his head. “Yeah? And you said you’ll support me no matter what so I guess we both said things we don’t mean.”

“Or I guess that was just you,” he says in a final tone, eyes serious this time on you before he turns towards your door to leave your bedroom. To leave your life.

You can’t breathe.

“Jimin-” you manage to stutter out although you feel like choking. You can’t lose him, you simply can’t.

“No, Y/N, you can’t just-!” he snaps back but stops himself before saying anything else, pressing his lips together.

Then he takes another breath. He collects himself and before you manage to stop him, he closes the door on his way out with a loud bang.

And you can’t move. Your eyes simply stare at the door, refusing to let any tear drop and you purse your lips, feeling a mixture of stubbornness and sorrow.

He left. How could he? How could he push you aside for her?! You’ve been friends for a little more than five years now and he ruins your friendship because of her?! Her?!

You rush to lock the door behind him with blurry eyes, putting the blame on him as for now you need this to stay sane.

Tomorrow you’ll know that everything was your fault.

But for now, you choose to believe otherwise.

You step back from your door, crossing your arms on your chest in defiance.

“If he doesn’t want to be friends then we won’t be!” you exclaim in an attempt to salvage your broken ego but once those words are out of your mouth, once they finally feel real, you can’t stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks.

You have to cover your mouth to drown the sound of your sobs.

You can’t let him hear.

At that moment there’s a knock on your door, before “Y/N? It’s Seokjin, can I come in?”

His voice is quiet, calm, reminding you that he and Hoseok probably heard everything. You can’t deal with it. You can’t deal with any of it.

“Go away, Seokjin…” you mumble with a low voice in order to hide the fact you’re crying.

You hear him sighing. “Come one, at least talk to me-”

“Go away!” your voice is coarse as you yell back, for a second not realising it was you. You know you're gonna regret yelling at him later, but you just want to be alone.

There’s silence on the other side. Then the echoing steps of someone leaving.

And then you break down in the middle of your room.

Alone.

The only sound coming from your quiet sobs.

{Jimin’s POV}

Keep it together. Don’t lose focus now just because she looks like she’s about to cry.

It’s easier said than done, but Jimin manages to remain focused on what he came here to do. Even if it’s just barely.

He can’t go on like this. Maybe if you were happy for him and actually supported him, things would be different. But when you act like a spoiled baby that didn’t get her wish with no excuse whatsoever when you were supposed to be okay with Dinah… there’s not much he can do.

Not when your behaviour acts as a false beacon of hope. One he can’t afford to see. Otherwise, he might do something he can’t take back.

He’s got to be firm and decisive.

So he turns around to leave before he takes it all back.

“Jimin-” he hears the breaking in your voice, knowing how much this may weigh you down but all he can feel right now is unfairness. It’s unfair how he wants to move on but with one single word he finds his resolve crumbling.

You shouldn’t affect him this much.

“No, Y/N, you can’t just-!” he begins but stops himself. What was he about to say? Something he shouldn’t, probably.

Still, you stop talking. And you just stare at him, with disbelief written in your eyes. He avoids those in favour of staying true to his words.

There’s no saying what he’ll do if he meets them.

So, he simply leaves your bedroom.

Marching through the small distance between your door and his, he can see Hoseok and Seokjin, from the corner of his eyes, staring.

They probably heard everything.

He steps into his bedroom, closing the door behind him, needing some space. To calm down, to take a breath, to finally think about what he just did.

You looked like you were ready to break down at any moment.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been that harsh with you. Maybe he was a bit too hasty, too vengeful in making that decision.

Someone knocks on his door.

What if it’s you?

His steps can’t take him to his door any faster.

But it’s just Hoseok.

“... what?” he hears himself get defensive once he sees your door still closed shut behind the other man.

Hoseok stares at him with understanding. “It doesn’t have to be like that, Jimin…” he comments with a soft voice, always knowing how to approach Jimin when he’s angry, better than anyone.

Jimin sighs, still feeling stubborn but he knows by the end of what Hoseok has to say, he’ll almost certainly listen.

“... Let’s talk about it okay? I’m sure Y/N wants that too…” at those words Jimin swears he feels a small pinch of pain on his chest. He wishes they’re true.

“Seokjin is also gonna talk to her…”

But those words manage to bring his stubbornness back full force.

There’s a chuckle coming out of Jimin but none of it sounds happy.

“Of course he will…” he snaps at Hoseok, who bites his lip once he realises his mistake. “Yeah, Hoseok, I think I’ll pass,” the bitterness is evident in his words, not bothering to hide it from the one person that knows the cause of it.

Hoseok’s eyes widen once he realises Jimin is about to close the door on him. “Wait, Jimin, don’t-”

“Goodnight,” is what Jimin simply says before closing the door on his best friend.

He can’t be sure when everything began to change. He can’t place a finger on the exact moment his feelings had changed.

On the exact moment, he fell in love with you.

Was it the moment you walked through the door as a roommate applicant? He can’t be sure. But somewhere along the way, the feelings bloomed, outgrew everything he ever felt for anyone.

He just was a bit late at realizing it.

When he woke up after you slept together and his eyes rested on you as you slept, he felt a pain in the middle of his chest. But it didn’t feel like a regular pain, it felt like his heart was expanding like he was experiencing growing pains. Because while he stared at you, he realised there was nothing else he’d rather do. You looked so serene, so at peace sleeping next to him, he never wanted the moment to end.

And that’s how he realised.

Of course, he had to push his newly-found knowledge aside when he saw you nearly going into panic mode. Just because he felt like this, didn’t mean you did too.

So he hid those feelings, playing it cool for the sake of being your friend.

But this shit was difficult when he was surrounded by you twenty-four-seven.

Right before Seokjin’s birthday he had sworn he’d finally tell you. He thought that maybe, just maybe you’d like him back, or at least he’d get to have a weight lifted off his chest.

But then he saw you hugging Seokjin…

He wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything. He was just trying to reach the bathroom when he saw you wrapping your arms around Seokjin. Around the guy you had a crush on for the past few years. It was like a stab to his stomach, even more so when he knew you weren’t really into hugs and when you did hug someone, it usually meant a lot to you.

Jimin couldn’t believe his eyes. He also couldn’t believe how much it hurt and how much he needed something to distract himself.

Or, rather, someone.

That’s how Dina came along.

He never intended to string her along this far though. At that night she was just a distraction, someone familiar who knew how to take care of him, despite everything that had transpired between them in the past.

But Dinah kept trying, kept fighting vigorously for that second chance and he couldn’t help but acknowledge how much she’d changed over the past year. So he let her back into his life, hoping that at least she’d help him forget about you.

And it worked for some time. Until that night.

Until the night you were supposed to go on a date with Seokjin and cancelled it because of him - he’s sure of it even if you vehemently denied it back then-. The night you were dressed on that tight, little, black dress, the one that reminded him of that night eight months ago and suddenly his mind was going haywire with thoughts, or rather, memories of you.

He swears he saw hunger in your eyes when his palm was on your thigh, scorching both of you at the connected spot and if it wasn’t for Hoseok’s interruption, he was sure he’d’ve lost control.

Jimin hates to admit it but that night he kept thinking of you, of your eyes, of your lips, of the way your thighs had fit around his waist back then, of the sound of his name falling from your lips as he touched himself, trying to drown his moans onto his pillow.

He couldn’t talk to you after that for a couple of days. Too ashamed, too embarrassed, too enamoured with you, he thought you’d be able to see right through him.

But once things got back to normal, they were ruined once more.

Dinah appeared at the worst of times at New Year’s. He was so close to letting you know how he feels, encouraged by your reaction when you ditched your date for him, which was another green light for him at the moment. But Dinah showed up and you were out of there before he even got a chance to explain.

Hoseok had found him then, drinking away his sorrows.

“And the worst of all is, she’s dating Seokjin, which I now realise makes me a big jerk and an awful friend as I keep trying to steal away his girlfriend,” Jimin mumbled before downing the rest of his drink.

Hoseok seemed perplexed but that might have been from the near-alcohol-poisoning he just had before Dr. Ana “nursed” him back to health. “And remind me, how are you sure she’s dating Seokjin? They haven’t told us anything yet…”

Jimin stared into his drink, already sort of tipsy on alcohol and self-pity. “Saw ‘em huggin’...” he mumbled behind the glass. Hoseok had to do a double-take at that.

“What?” Hoseok responded in disbelief. “That’s it? Dude, I do that with Seokjin all the time, that doesn’t mean I’m dating him!”

Jimin sighed in annoyance. “It was more than that okay? There was this feeling to it! I could tell it wasn’t just a simple hug!” Jimin groaned as he rubbed his face with his hand.

Hoseok rolled his eyes at his friend. “Still you can never be sure by just a hug! Have you talked to her?”

“No, I tried to but Dinah came in and she left as soon as she saw her…” Jimin admitted and Hoseok almost laughed out loud at his friend’s idiocy.

“Bro, if that isn’t a sign to talk to her, then I’m not dating the most bomb person in the whole ass world.”

Jimin wasn’t impressed as he cocked an eyebrow at his friend.

Hoseok wasn’t deterred. “I can see you have an objection here and it’s a complete disgrace to Ana’s name, so Imma pound you to logic city later, you limp dick, but right now you need to talk to Y/N!” he concluded as he shoved Jimin out of his stool.

Jimin groaned as he stood up, but as his eyes fell to the bottom of his drink, he realised Hoseok was right. He should’ve talked to you first. Maybe he had misunderstood and there was nothing going on with Seokjin.

And right then as he saw you bumping into Seokjin, he figured it was a great opportunity to find out what was happening between the two of you from both parties involved.

But as his steps got him closer and closer, he saw you kiss him.

He froze. He couldn’t look, couldn’t bear, but still, his eyes stayed glued to the both of you as your arms circled around his neck to press him closer.

Jimin felt like vomiting.

He turned around right then and there and walked away. He needed to get out of there. He gave Dinah a half-assed apology as he also sent her on her merry way and he left for his apartment. He couldn’t even tell Hoseok why he was leaving the party, only announcing his departure and disappearing.

It was the first time in years he spent New Year’s alone.

He hated it.

{Y/N’s POV}

You’ve done the worst sleep in ages.

You rub your eyes, immediately regretting it when the slightest touch has them stinging from how swollen they are from all the crying.

Right. It wasn’t just a dream.

You drag your feet begrudgingly across the floor to the bathroom to splurge some water on your face, in a futile attempt to calm down your puffy eyes. Before you’re off to the kitchen where Hoseok is currently eating his breakfast cereal.

Once he hears the sound of footsteps, he raises his head, only to see you awkwardly walk in the kitchen, eyes downcast as you go for the fridge.

“Hey,” you hear him say.

With your face facing the inside of the fridge you take a breath, letting the low temperature calm you down.

You knew it was coming. Hoseok definitely listened to everything along with Seokjin. And yet you don’t feel like replying.

Nonetheless, you turn around and acknowledge him with a tilt of your head as you move to have the coffee machine working.

“So… How you feeling?”

The question prompts a humourless chuckle out of you and Hoseok sighs in response.

“I know, that’s a lousy question. I just…” he takes a breath, eyes gentle on you, not at all judgemental as you’d expect them, after what you’ve done yesterday, “I mean I know Jimin’s side of the story, but I never heard yours…” he concludes, letting a soft smile take over his features.

Huh. Your side of the story.

You swallow the lump in your throat, but the words don’t come out. Instead, you resolve to looking down at the floor as your hands grab tightly at your empty cup.

Hoseok, sensing your hesitation, sighs resigned but he doesn’t push you on it.

A moment passes when both of you remain silent until your coffee is ready. You pour the liquid into your cup, almost moaning in relief you don’t have to stay here another second.

But before you get to leave Hoseok speaks up again.

“I know things may look like a mess right now but I’m sure this won’t be the case forever. Jimin… yeah, he’s mad but you're his best friend. He’s gonna change his mind soon…” Hoseok’s gentle words reach you and, oh god, how do you want to believe them.

You turn to look at him and see the hope written in his eyes.

You give him what might have resembled a smile if you weren’t feeling so beat-down.

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me Hobi…” you whisper and Hoseok’s face falls just a bit at how broken you sound.

“Things will change, I’m certain of it,” still he replies, eyes full of determination that make the slightest sliver of hope go through the cracks of your sorrow.

Right then another pair of footsteps echoes as Jimin walks into the kitchen.

His sudden arrival has you both freeze, eyes resting on the newcomer and while Hoseok keeps on looking at Jimin, you’re quick to avert your gaze, the lump in your throat growing.

A second passes where Jimin doesn’t move forward or backwards. Like he isn’t sure if you could be in the same room anymore after yesterday's events. Your heart pangs at the thought.

He coughs awkwardly.

“I didn’t know you were awake, I can come back later-” he begins softly, eyes avoiding yours as well, making the pain grow a little sharper.

“No, it’s okay, I was done anyway…” you interrupt him, hands gripping tightly at your steaming cup as if it is a life board.

And without another word, you’re out of the kitchen.

{Hoseok’s POV}

A week passes by and it seems there’s no hope for reconciliation on the horizon.

Both of you went the extra miles and rearranged your schedules to avoid each other as much as possible. Jimin spends nearly every night at Dinah’s, barely seeing the others and you spend days locked into your room under the pretence of writing, but really you’re just avoiding everyone.

The rest of the guys don’t know what to do anymore.

It’s a Friday afternoon when Hoseok is over at Ana’s place, the mood in his apartment too heavy to bear and he can’t bear this anymore.

“Babe, I’m back, they didn’t have any vinegar chips so I bought oregano instead. Can you imagine the disgrace?” he shouts as soon as he steps back into the apartment, after a small walk to the seven eleven down the street.

But instead of hearing his girlfriend’s welcoming back, he hears her sigh. Then he sees her walk around the corner from the kitchen with her phone pressed to her ear like she’s in a conference call.

“I still don’t understand why won’t you just tell him!” Ana speaks on the phone, sending a tired wave to her boyfriend who looks at her entirely confused.

Hoseok just takes his shoes off and plops himself on the couch, sensing Ana won’t be done with that phone call anytime soon.

There’s a silence from her side as she listens intently to what the other person is saying. Hoseok decides to open the bag of chips just to keep his hands occupied.

After a while, Ana talks again.

“But what if she doesn’t tell him?” she? First, she mentioned a “him” and now a “she”? Hoseok’s getting more confused by the second.

“And what about Jimin then? Doesn’t he deserve to know the truth?” her voice is stern, like a mother berating her child and a sound of understanding leaves Hoseok’s lips, as he concludes Ana is talking to you.

There’s a small silence from your side, indicating no response to Ana’s question and so she keeps talking.

“And I’m talking about the whole truth Y/N.”

Hoseok’s intrigued. What whole truth?

“I know I was the first person to be against telling him about your feelings but with how poorly you handled the situation, I don’t think you can possibly make anything worse!”

At that, Hoseok’s eyes blow wide open. Feelings?! What feelings?!

He’s immediately up, approaching Ana with quick steps as she listens to your response. Your voice, even though muffled through the phone, sounds weaker, sadder. Disheartened.

Ana’s words are softer now. “But you’ll never be able to do this. You’ll never be ready but, the truth is, no one ever is. That’s kinda how it goes and that’s okay. But you gotta do it at some point, sooner or later,” she talks to you calmly, Hoseok sensing her sorrow at hearing you like this.

But he can’t shake the feeling that he can somehow help if he finds out what those feelings are.

Ana sighs tiredly as if what she just said didn’t have much of an impact. “Y/N-” but before she gets to respond you hang up.

Ana gasps while staring at her phone. “She just hung up on me, I can’t believe it, how dare?” she says to no one in particular as she rubs her hands on her face tiredly.

“Tough luck?” Hoseok comments wrapping his hands around her waist. Ana welcomes the embrace, her hands winding around his neck as she rests her head on his shoulder.

“She just won’t listen! She’s so infuriatingly stubborn and it’s driving me nuts!” she blows a stray hair out of her face, accidentally tickling Hoseok’s skin in the process and he chuckles.

“Kinda like you then?” he teases as he finally pushes that stray lock behind her ear and she pokes out her tongue at him in retaliation before falling into peaceful tranquillity.

Hoseok hates to disrupt this but he has to ask her what all of those things meant. For the sake of Jimin.

“Hey, babe…” he begins and Ana hums in acknowledgement.

“When you talked about Y/N’s feelings…” he feels her stiffen in his embrace but nonetheless he carries on, “... what did you mean?”

Ana takes a breath. “I guess there’s no point in not telling you now…” she speaks softly before taking another breath, one Hoseok holds until he hears her answer.

“Y/N… she likes Jimin. Well I mean that’s what she says anyway. I think it’s way more than that…” Ana admits sadly but Hoseok’s mind goes into overdrive.

“Are you serious…?” he asks in what can be perceived as a calm demeanour but in reality, his head is about to explode.

Ana chuckles calmly, still in Hoseok’s embrace. “I know right?”

Oh my god, they’re both idiots, he thinks. But he has to do something now.

“Oh god, those giant baboons!” he almost yells, making Ana flinch and take a step back to look at him perplexed.

“Hoseok…?”

He laughs incredulously as he takes a step back, trying to process the situation.

“For how long?” he asks and Ana looks more weirded out by the second.

“Two months, give or take?” Ana responds with narrowed eyes.

Hoseok chuckles. “That’s…” when Jimin started going out with Dinah, of course, it all makes sense!

“Seriously our friends are the worst idiots ever!” he complains once more.

“Okay, now do you mind telling me what’s going on?” she retaliates, getting irritated with her boyfriend and his tendency of not explaining anything for the dramatics.

“Jimin likes her back!” he shouts out loud, the magnificence of what he found out too overwhelming to bear.

Ana’s eyes widen. “What? How can that be? What about Dinah?”

Hoseok narrows his eyes at her. “He began dating her again after that one night stand that only happened because he saw Y/N hugging Seokj- Wait! What about Seokjin?”

Ana seems confused. “What about Seokjin?”

“Isn’t Y/N dating him?”

Ana almost bursts out in giggles. “What? No! Of course not! Why would you think that?”

“Cause of the hug!”

“So what, a simple hug means automatically they’re dating each other?”

“Well, we all know Y/N hates hugs, plus she had a crush on him so it would be believable- Wait, that’s not the point. So Y/N isn’t dating Seokjin?”

“Nope. Never did,” Ana concludes as both of them fall into the same realization.

“So Jimin did all that stuff…” Ana begins, not quite believing the absurdity of the situation.

“...Because he thought Seokjin was dating Y/N,” Hoseok admits tiredly.

“We gotta tell Jimin,” Ana grabs her phone to punch in his number before Hoseok stops her.

“Wait…” he stares at the phone, the cogs in his mind whirling before his eyes light up.

“I got a better idea.”

{Jimin’s POV}

Sweat still drips down his forehead as Jimin bids goodbye to his students, after the end of his contemporary class. He reaches for his water bottle and heads for the teachers’ lounge where his stuff is before he gets to his last class.

He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand before pressing the now lukewarm bottle on the nape of his neck, to get some sort of relief.

Once again, his focus wasn’t entirely on the class. It has been like that ever since your fight, but at least it started getting better as time passed. Still not at its best though.

He finds himself feeling guilty more than he thought he would. Guilty towards you, towards Dinah. It’s a mess.

Admittedly, he was really mad at you but as he got to think it over, he realised he acted too rashly in cutting you off. And he misses you already.

But the thing is… you haven't made a move to reconcile either. That could be because you’re afraid of him pushing you away again. But shouldn't you make the first step? If you did, Jimin is sure he would forgive you on the spot.

He shakes his head tiredly as he enters the teachers’ lounge and reaches for his backpack. Everything’s a mess.

And then there’s Dinah. Dinah who’s changed, who’s kind and understanding. Dinah who he strings along and who’s possibly already aware of Jimin’s use of her as a distraction. They both know that, even though Dinah’s changed and everything’s seemingly fine, the relationship is doomed this time around as well.

Although this time it’s Jimin’s fault.

He needs to come clean to her. He has to end this.

Right then his phone begins ringing.

Once he sees the contact name, he’s a little less willing to answer it.

“What do you want?” is his response once he picks up and there’s an awkward chuckle at the other end before the caller finally replies.

“Whoa, okay, forward, can’t you buy me a drink first, champ?” Seokjin tries to make the tension disappear unsuccessfully, resulting in Jimin not even answering that particular quip.

He hears Seokjin sigh on the other side, before “Anyway, can’t I just call my friend to see how he’s doing? It’s been a while since the last time we talked…” the other man admits cautiously and Jimin’s defensiveness slowly ebbs away to give place to additional guilt. He’s the one blowing off all his friends because he wants space. Or more precisely, he thinks, because he’s a coward, too afraid to really deal with the situation, so instead picking the easy way out, at the expense of his friends.

He rubs his face with his hands, before letting out a breath. “Yeah, I know, things have been kind of…” Jimin trails off but Seokjin hums, as if he understands what Jimin means without him having to say it out loud.

“Yeah…” Seokjin agrees quietly and Jimin feels more horrible as time goes by. When did he begin to feel such animosity towards his friend? They used to be really close ever since they worked together at the same shift, and now Jimin can barely be in the same room as him. It’s not Seokjin’s fault in any way and the truth is Jimin’s animosity arises not towards Seokjin but more towards himself.

He has stuff he needs to work on.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about…” comes Seokjin’s response that has Jimin sitting up straight in his seat, terrified of what his friend wants to talk to him about.

And it seems his fears were not unjustified.

“How long have you liked Y/N?”

There it is.

Jimin takes a breath, panic trying to take over him but he wills it to go away and answer his friend. Even if he’s terrified to do so.

“I…” he begins, audible shakiness colouring his voice, “... how do you know?”

Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Hoseok told me…”

Jimin takes another breath, one full of guilt.

“Look, I… I’m sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen, it just did! And I know it’s awful of me to have done this but, yeah, for some time I had thought of acting on it. But now that I know for certain you’re together, I wouldn’t even dream of-”

“First of all, Y/N and I are not together.” Seokjin interrupts the babbling idiot and Jimin stops mid-sentence.

He blinks, uncertain. “I… what?”

Seokjin sighs with a chuckle. “Y/N and I aren’t dating,” he repeats.

Jimin opens his mouth like a fish, in complete and utter shock. “But… but I saw you…” he states full of doubt, almost like a question.

He can almost hear Seokjin raising his eyebrow. “You saw us doing what?”

The lump in his throat doesn’t make this any easier. “I saw you kissing a-a-aand-and hugging!” he retaliates, trying to support his reasoning.

Seokjin sighs once more, the gesture coming off him naturally by now. “Okay, she kissed me because she wanted to avoid a dude she ghosted, I had little to no say in this!” Seokjin responds in a typical Seokjin fashion.

But Jimin has more questions. “A dude she ghosted?”

“Yeah, she was supposed to go on a date with this guy in my restaurant but blew him off for some reason…”

Wait.

“When was this?” Jimin asks, eager but nervous to find out the answer.

“A couple of days before Christmas.”

So that wasn’t a date with Seokjin but just a rando?

God, Jimin has fucked up big time.

“And what about the hug?” he asks for the last time, to make sure he resolves any misunderstanding.

“What hug? Oh, you mean on my birthday? Dude, that was just her coming clean about her past crush on me and us moving past this like a couple of adults.”

Jimin’s throat constricts uncomfortably but in unbelievable hope. “Past crush?”

Seokjin’s smile is nearly audible. “Yeah, “past”. Know why? Because she has feelings for someone else.”

And just as easily as Seokjin has given him hope, he just as easily rips it away.

“Oh…?” Jimin barely manages to utter, voice almost breaking alongside his heart. “Who?”

Seokjin groans on the other side, taking Jimin wholly by surprise by the irritated tone in the older man’s voice. “Oh my god, you really are both idiots,” he says almost to himself, “You, you soggy tit! Do you really think she did all that to Dinah simply because she didn’t like her? No, she was fucking jealous!” Seokjin concludes, voice rushed and angry to berate his friend and finally put an end to this huge mess.

But Jimin hears only one word.

You.

She has feelings for you.

The girl he’s been in love with for nearly a year now, if not more, has feelings for him. Reciprocated feelings.

Is this real? Is this a fucking dream from which he’ll wake up in the morning, feeling shittier than ever?

But Seokjin said she was jealous. Jealous.

“She- She was? Seokjin, just…” he stops himself to take a calming breath, refusing to believe this just yet, “Please, don’t joke about this, I’m not gonna laugh,” he warns his friend. He can’t bear to have his heart messed with any more than it already has been.

“Does it sound like I’m joking? Believe me, I wouldn’t, we’re all too invested in your shit, it’s not healthy.”

Jimin can’t believe this. He wants to, desperately, but what if it’s not real? What then?

“I…” he swallows his nerves, “She really has feelings for me?” he asks, not unlike a hopeful child. God, his heart is about to burst.

“Yeah, buddy, I know it’s hard to believe when I exist!” Seokjin tries to lighten up the mood with a joke.

Jimin doesn’t laugh.

“...Too soon? Sorry, anyway, I thought you should also know Y/N really feels awful for everything and if there’s one thing that can confirm that, is the fact she apologized to Dinah,” Seokjin concludes carefully.

Jimin doesn’t know how to respond.

“But if you don’t believe me… Ask Y/N herself.”

But he knows what to do.

{Y/N’s POV}

You’re washing the dishes, alone at home for another hour at the very least as Jimin’s classes end in one hour.

Should you go to Ana’s? Ugh, but Hoseok is there.

Maybe you should just hole yourself up in your room for the scarce time Jimin will be here before he’s off to Dinah’s.

Which reminds you of earlier today.

In Dinah’s defence, she handled your apology quite gracefully, in contrast with you. You were a babbling mess, trying to put your thoughts into place and at first, she was suspicious of you, but once your visit made sense, she seemed to understand. Something even you couldn’t at times.

She accepted your apology with a calm smile, confusing you even more as she said she appreciated your effort to put all of this behind you.

You were glad she seemed to not hold it against you although, honestly… you don’t think you deserve it.

You have no idea if she’s planning on telling Jimin or not and quite frankly you’re terrified of what he’ll say if he finds out.

Once you’re done with the dishes and close the tap, you hear the front door open and close, assuming it’s Hoseok back from Ana’s.

“Hobi, is that you?” you ask before turning around, only to almost choke on your own breath when you see Jimin instead.

He’s standing just in front of the door, not going forwards or backwards, as his eyes stare at you. Serious, careful but calm. No anger residing in them. Just awkwardness as he seems to not know what to do with himself, as he simply rests in place and somehow a tiny drop of hope begins to bloom.

“I… Don’t you have classes?” is the first thing you manage to get out of your mouth and he takes a breath.

“I had to get out early…” he responds and you can’t help but focus on the “had to”. Did Dinah talk to him after all?

“...Why?” is your careful question, when in reality your mind is in a state of disarray. Is this a good sign? A bad one? Is he here to restore your friendship to what it used to be or finally cut ties with you and move out?

Your mind is gonna short-circuit.

“I…” he begins, eyes falling to the floor. Then he takes another breath. “I had to talk to you,” he says.

Oh god. This is it. You’re done.

Your throat closes up as you blink quickly trying to stop your eyes from welling up. Damnit, you already cried so much about this, you shouldn’t have any more tears left!

He takes a tentative step forward, eyes finding yours once again. But they look… soft, tender. Apologetic.

“I… I’m sorry. For the way I acted,” he breathes out and your eyes widen, having to do a double-take to make sure you heard right. “I was too harsh on you, basically taking out my nerves on you and even though what you did was awful, I shouldn’t have taken such drastic measures. I took it too far by saying we shouldn’t be friends and I’d like to take it back if you want to…” he concludes, observing you cautiously.

You’re left staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. Is he serious? Did he just apologize to you like he was the one at fault?

“Jimin, oh my god, you shouldn’t have to apologize, I should!” you rush to say, instinctively grabbing his hands to soothe him, completely missing the taken aback turned loving look in his eyes.

“I acted way out of line and truth be told I think I needed that as a wake-up call. You were right, what kind of friend am I if I don’t try to get along with the girl you’re dating?” you continue, too self-conscious to be able to look Jimin in the eye, instead staring at your joined hands with a new kind joy.

You got your best friend back. And if keeping him means you have to bury your feelings for him, then you’ll do it. For real this time. Whatever it takes to not lose him again.

Jimin chuckles in response. “Used to date,” he corrects you.

This time though you can’t help it when your eyes snap back at him. “What? What do you mean?”

Where you expected to be a sorrowful expression, there is none. Instead, Jimin is looking at you with a soft smile, a serene one, one that matches the peace in his eyes. “We broke up,” he says and you can’t find the proper words to react to this.

“Oh… H-how so?” you say instead, unwillingly holding your breath.

Jimin’s eyes rest on your face for a moment, that damned smile still gracing his lips, before his eyes fall to your hands. “I guess you helped me realise some things with what you did,” is his cryptic response.

But before you get to question his answer his eyes turn stern, with a note of mischief hiding in their corners. “That does not mean what you did was okay, though,” he says, pointing his finger at you like a teacher disciplining a child and you chuckle at his attempt of lightening up the mood.

“Believe me, I know. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive myself…” you respond, rubbing a hand awkwardly at the base of your neck, still awfully aware of your other hand still connected to Jimin’s.

“Well…” he says quietly, his eyes on your joined hands, “Good thing I did then…” he mutters, his thumb running over the back of your palm soothingly and once your eyes meet his, you know you’ll be okay.

After that talk with Jimin, -that ended with the both of you watching Space Jam and cuddling to sleep-, everything is once again back to normal. The past week has been amazing compared to the one before it. You find yourself smiling all the time as your friendship with Jimin is back to its prime, laughter and joy returning to your shared apartment.

Your group returns back to its routine, hanging out together in front of the TV, roasting Hoseok for his abundant sexual energy, you know, the usual.

And yet you feel like something’s changed. More particularly, with Jimin.

You catch his eyes on you more than once, more than what could be considered normal but ever since you made up the two of you haven’t been left alone once. The guys are always around and, really, it’s not like you don’t want them to be but there’s always something hanging from Jimin’s mouth, something he wants to say but never does due to their presence. It’s slightly unnerving, reminding you of that night outside your bedrooms when he wanted to say something but didn't.

You can’t tell if it’s good or bad. All you know is suddenly your knees shake when he looks at you for too long and you have goosebumps whenever his skin touches yours.

So that’s why tonight you chose to sit on the lone armchair as he sits next to Hoseok on the big couch and Ana is placed next to Seokjin on the small one.

Somehow the conversation managed to go on that New Year’s party and Seokjin ended up spilling about your kiss.

“You said “we take this to the grave”!” you respond with a low voice, trying to mimic him unsuccessfully as Ana and Hoseok stare at you with eyes wide as saucers. Jimin, for some reason, looks unresponsive to the news yet he laughs at your bad impression of Seokjin.

Seokjin at least has the decency to look guilty as Ana’s scandalized eyes turn to you. “You kissed?!”

You raise your hands in defence, for some reason avoiding to look over at Jimin. “I didn’t do it on purpose! Well… I kinda did but not with the motive you’d assume,” you rush to explain, though Ana is less than satisfied.

“Oh then with what motive? Please amuse me, hoe,” she responds, crossing her hands on her chest and you huff out in annoyance.

Seokjin answers her. “Well, obviously, she wanted a piece of all that. I’m pretty irresistible to all humankind,” he jokes lightly and you suppress a snort.

“Yeah, no, this ain’t it, chief,” you rush to say, suddenly nervous, not wanting anyone to think you’re still into Seokjin.

Actually, replace “anyone” with just “Jimin”.

Seokjin gasps in offence. “What in the world do you even mean?! You’re lucky I kissed you and not just because you got rid of that dude! I’m a pretty good kisser, no scratch that, I’m an excellent kisser, a connoisseur of kissing if you will!”

“I think I won’t be able to kiss anyone after that…” Hoseok responds which makes Seokjin gasp once more before he looks over at you.

“Y/N, tell them the truth. How my kissing is so utterly magnificent, it could end world hunger!” he says before actually hearing what he just said then deciding against it, “Nope, can’t do that, sorry, that’s on me.”

You chuckle at his antics, although a bit reluctant to actually reveal the truth.

“Actually…” you start.

Another gasp resonates. “Don’t “actually” me! Just tell them!”

You turn to the other guys with a roll of your eyes.

“Look, it’s not like you were a bad kisser per se. It’s just that it was a bit… lackluster?” you finish, almost afraid to see Seokjin’s reaction to the reveal.

Jimin suppresses a chuckle, Hoseok oohs from the side and Ana’s eyes widen in surprise.

Seokjin looks at you with disbelief.

“Lackluster?”

You rush to make amends. “I mean it’s okay given I took you by surprise, but due to that crush I used to have on you, I had this notion of a kiss full of passion. And that one just… didn’t have it.”

Seokjin pouts angrily at you before crossing his arms on his chest as Ana pats his shoulder soothingly. “I can’t believe you just said my kiss didn’t have any passion.”

You shrug. “Well, it didn’t,” you say as a matter of a fact before Ana jumps into the conversation.

“It’s probably a good thing your kiss didn’t have any passion, it just means your friends. No chemistry there so don’t beat yourself up too much, champ,” she says with an affectionate pinch on Seokjin’s cheek, who ponders on her input.

“Yeah, Ana is right!” you rush to agree. “It’s because we’re just friends! When you find someone you really like, believe me, it’ll be nothing like that,” you go off track a bit as certain memories reappear. “It’ll be full of passion and yearning and not getting enough of each other, you’re not sure if you can go on without kissing them!”

And somehow by the end of that, your eyes fall on Jimin’s and stay there.

Because he stares back.

“Okay, I think we heard enough about Seokjin’s kissing techniques,” Ana comments, breaking the spell and your eyes fall to your lap, fire residing in your cheeks.

“I just have one last comment on what I think Seokjin could’ve used but didn’t cause he’s a wuss,” Hoseok jumps in.

“Tongue.”

A round of gagging noises is heard around the apartment.

The hours pass by smoothly and soon everyone’s getting sleepy. Seokjin leaves early, having to go to the restaurant first thing in the morning, leaving the rest of you to clean up.

Once again Jimin picks up the trash with Ana as Hoseok helps you do the dishes. The apartment falls into a comfortable silence with the occasional chatter between the four of you while you clean up. Hoseok is to sleepover at Ana’s so when you’re all done the couple bids you goodbye, heading to Ana’s apartment.

Leaving you and Jimin totally alone.

Which is something that shouldn’t scare you but for some reason your nerves are going through the roof.

“Are you done with the kitchen?” Jimin asks from the living room, where he’s rearranging the pillows on the couch.

“Yeap! Just finished!” you call back, your voice a bit higher than usual and you cringe internally before clearing your throat.

“Good, I’m going to bed then,” he responds as you walk out of the kitchen.

“I’ll walk with you,” you respond with a smile, following him into the corridor.

You walk in comfortable silence, but still, you find yourself getting nervous as you walk side by side. It doesn’t make any sense.

Once you reach your bedrooms, both of you turn around to face each other, seemingly unwilling to depart just yet. Jimin looks at you with a soft smile as you grab at the opportunity to talk to him.

“Jimin, I just… I’m really happy we got past that and again I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused,” you say in what seems like the hundredth apology this week.

Jimin’s smile grows fonder as he shakes his head gently. “I told you, you should stop apologizing, I’m no longer mad at you,” is his quiet reply as he tilts his head, his eyes staring at you in a way it makes your heart race.

“I know I just… That week we spent not talking to each other was the worst week of my life and I…” you pause searching for the right words, but no words could ever describe the magnificence of what you’re feeling right now, the desperation of wanting to have him in your life. So you simply stare at him, out of breath, hoping he gets it.

His smile is one of the best things you’ve ever seen and you know he does.

You smile back. “Anyway, I’ve gotten too sentimental…” you chuckle, clearing your voice to sound more collected.

Jimin giggles softly. “Happens to the best of us…” he responds gently and you have to remind yourself to not stare. Even if he does and it makes you feel out of breath.

You nod with a smile. “Well…” you respond nervously, yearning for the moment you’re alone in your room, free of all this tension. “Goodnight,” you say simply, turning around to get to your door.

But a hand wraps itself around your wrist, turning you around suddenly. Your hands naturally fall to Jimin’s chest as his palms wrap around your waist and hair as his lips fall fervently on yours.

Your mind goes into overdrive and you can only kiss him back.

His plump lips wrap around your own softly but with an intense sense of urgency, a soft gasp falling from your lips as your hands are quick into grabbing his shirt to pull him unbelievably closer. You respond with just as much hunger, letting your mouth move fervently against his own, pushing more and more against him, aiding his hand that’s tangled in your hair, gripping the locks as if he can’t get enough. Then both of his palms are on the small of your back, holding you close as if fearing you’ll leave. But you never do and that makes him press more against you until your back hits the wall next to your door.

The impact makes Jimin lean back just enough to stop the kiss, but his eyes still remain glued to the image of your swollen lips, as you almost lean after his own.

Your heavy breaths mingle in the otherwise quiet corridor, his hands still on your waist, yours still on his open shirt as you try to wrap your mind around what just happened.

“Did you mean something like that?” comes out his gruff, deep voice that sends a shiver down your spine.

His question brings you back to the earlier conversation about a perfect kiss and you can’t control your breathing any more than your beating heart.

You nod quickly, eyes still on his lips. “Yes,” is your breathless answer.

Jimin’s still breathing heavily as his eyes land once again on your lips.

“Good.”

And then he’s kissing you again.

And, fuck, you can’t get enough.

Your palms land on his neck as you stand on your toes to reach him better and his hands wrap around your waist to keep you in place.

Fuck, you’re kissing him. You’re kissing him and he’s kissing you back. As if he’s a man starved of your kiss and he needs anything you can give him.

But then he stops again and you almost groan out loud.

“You need to stop doing that…” you exhale with an affected chuckle and he chuckles as well.

“I just… I need to talk to you before anything else happens….” he whispers and even though you know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, you can’t help but feel a pang of fear in your chest.

“I…” he says, eyes dazedly looking at your face before he takes an encouraging breath.

“I want you to know that this isn’t like last time. It’s more, it means more, I-” he stops once more, voice trembling as he refuses to look anywhere else but you.

His words give you hope but for the first time in weeks, you welcome that hope. You welcome that glorious feeling to settle deep in your chest because you recognize that warm glint deep in his eyes.

“I’m in love with you,” he reveals and you swear your heart will burst. There’s moisture in your eyes but you will it to go away.

“You are…?” you ask with a small voice and Jimin smiles at you, all happiness and comfort. There’s a fuzzy feeling in the middle of your chest and at this moment nothing makes any more sense than you two.

“Yes. And I spent the past year trying to run from it…” he admits carefully as he slightly crouches down to meet your eyes.

“I’m not running anymore…” he concludes, a spark in his eyes and you’ve never seen him more sure for anything in his life.

There’s a whirlwind of emotions in you. Relief, hope, undeniable joy. It makes your throat close and for a few seconds, you can’t answer him. You only stare back and hope he understands like so many times before.

“I-” you manage to choke out with a weak voice but he’s quick to shush you, before kissing the inside of your palm.

“I know…” he responds softly, still holding onto your palm as his eyes find yours. You can’t look away, couldn’t if you wanted to.

And then you can’t stop smiling, and he’s smiling back and before you know it you’re kissing again.

Happiness rolls like a current between, from all the places your bodies touch, you can’t contain it so you keep on kissing fervidly, hands touching whenever they can, mouths moving in tandem like it’s natural. Like it’s the way it’s supposed to be.

“God, I have so much I want to tell you…” he whispers against your lips before he’s diving back in, tongue reaching out to meet yours.

“Me too…” you reply after a few seconds, pushing him closer as your fingers tangle in his hair. “But not now…” you whisper sternly, pushing your chest against him, needing to feel more of him.

He curses under his breath, the sound sinful, licking his lips before he’s kissing you again and his hands fall lower down your back to rest over the swell of your ass.

You moan in appreciation when his hands grab at the tender flesh, making you arch out so he has better leverage. There’s a throbbing between your legs and you resist grinding on him just yet, to drag it out as long as you can.

Jimin’s lips move down the column of your throat as his body cages you against the wall, hands keeping your hips still as he wedges one leg between yours, so his thigh can press upright against your mound.

You moan again when he leaves a particularly deep hickey on your skin and your hips instinctively roll against his thigh, your hands holding on to his back afraid you might fall.

He chuckles darkly against your skin. “Still into thighs I see…” he mumbles before biting softly at your earlobe, a shiver running down your spine.

You bite your lip before, “Correction, still into your thighs…” you admit as you roll your hips slowly on top of his thigh, starting to feel that delicious warmth building up in your stomach, making you feel dizzy.

Jimin almost bucks into you with a low moan, as his hands are certain to leave marks on your hips as he struggles to remain sane.

“Fuck… Although I’m really tempted to just fuck you here, we should probably move…” he murmurs between kisses to your collarbone and you have half a sane mind to agree. The other half is already picturing him doing it either way.

But before you get to move, his arms are quicker, lunging under your thighs and you instinctively wrap them around his waist with a surprised yelp. His palms are resting right on top of your ass, subconsciously pushing you closer, making your insides burn in anticipation.

There’s a smirk on his lips as he licks them, eyes roaming your face to make sure you don’t have second doubts. Although your eyes are glued to the movement of his wet tongue.

When he realises this, he’s quick to move towards his room as you choose now as the perfect moment to lick and suck bruises on his neck, not able to deny yourself any longer.

“Shit… Y/N, if you keep this up I’m gonna drop you…” he mumbles with a stern but clearly-affected voice and you smile in victory before softly biting at his skin, savouring his taste on your tongue.

He kicks his door open before he carefully lays you on his bed, lips immediately after your own as you reach for his neck to desperately press more of him against you.

Your palms move down his chest, grabbing the edges of his flannel to push it off his shoulders, leaving him in his T-shirt and jeans.

“Why are you wearing so many clothes…?” you ask breathlessly, immediately reconnecting your lips like a woman starved and Jimin chuckles, grabbing the hem of your T-shirt instead and pushing it upwards. You sigh in relief as soon as your heated skin is free, yearning to feel more of his skin against yours.

“Just trying to keep myself warm,” he comments rushedly as he discards the piece of clothing somewhere behind him and his eyes fall to your covered breasts. He curses, lowering his face to kiss down your collarbones until his lips reach the bare top of your tits. His mouth leaves a wet trail behind that’s making you gasp as your thighs rub together to gain some relief.

Jimin notices and chuckles darkly before biting your bottom lip. “You want any help there?” he teases and you groan out loud with a pout.

“Yes, but please take your clothes off a little bit faster. It’s making my dick soft,” you whine, bucking your hips towards him.

He pins them down between his own legs, forcing them to stay still. His fingers toy with the waistband of your leggings as your breaths turn heavier while only looking at his eyes.

“Aw, so I won’t have my ass rawed by your dick? Such a shame baby…” he teases once more with a sinful smirk and the last word has your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Fuck, say that again…” you murmur, arching your chest upwards as you feel moisture gather between your legs, just by the single mention of a nickname.

Jimin laughs out loud as he moves to get your leggings off and you’re quick to aid him. “Is this really what turns you on?” he comments playfully as he leans in, lips kissing the underside of your jaw.

“No, I meant…” you stop, suddenly self-conscious, “... the other part…” you mumble quietly, turning your face to the side, knowing a deep red has taken over your cheeks. It’s not simply about the nickname or the tenderness in his voice as he said it. It’s about what it represents, what you already heard from his lips but you simply can’t have enough of. It makes everything real.

Jimin regards you for a second before, “What? Baby?” he asks, rather innocently and yet you still can’t look at him, too embarrassed as you nod.

Jimin’s eyes turn softer as he bites his lip to contain his smile. Fuck, he’s so in love.

He moves to press a tender kiss to your jaw. “Baby,” he repeats slowly, before resting his lips on your collarbones and you sigh in content. “Baby…” he says again, leaving a kiss in the valley between your breasts, making your breath hitch. “Baby…” he moves lower, dragging his plump lips down your torso as your breaths quicken, the sound of the nickname having your heart making somersaults.

“Baby…” he whispers lowly one last time, the tone completely different, darker, more promising. His eyes rest on you as his face now lays above your panties. Then his hands are hooking behind the waistband, dragging the material down your legs and he bites his lips at the sight of your glistening folds.

“God, I wanna taste you so bad…” he says almost to himself and before you get to react, he hooks your legs on top of his shoulders and his tongue lands with kittenish licks on your clit.

An involuntary groan escapes you, bucking your hips into his mouth for more. And yet he maintains his pace, sending waves of pleasure up your body but never enough to get you where you want to. You can’t help the movement of your hips as you crave for more friction, his movements delicious but never enough. Jimin pins your hips down, tsking you before he presses a kiss at the junction between your thigh and cunt.

“You’ll get what you want, baby, all in due time…” he says sternly, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine as his mouth returns to your clit, and you bite your lip to drown your moan.

Though now, he leaves aside the kittenish lick to wrap his mouth around the swollen nub and suck it between his lips.

A loud moan breaks free from your lips, heavy pants resonating as his plush lips envelop your clit, finally giving you more, moving expertly against your folds and your hands find purchase on Jimin’s locks to press him more against you.

He lets you do as you please while one of his hands travels up your torso, pushing your bra’s cups down to toy with one of your nipples.

The added pleasure has you cry his name in ecstasy, losing all control of your hips as they move against Jimin’s face, as if they have a mind of their own, chasing after your high like a madwoman.

And as one hand tugs at your erect nipples, the other finds this chance to move down your body and trace around your entrance, making your pussy clench in anticipation. Before finally pushing two digits inside your velvety walls.

“Jimin!” you almost sob, your hips furiously chasing after your high as you feel the warmth building up more and more inside your stomach.

His fingers keep thrusting inside you, slowly at first to let you get used to the intrusion, before he picks up the pace, moving them quickly, roughly inside you. Knuckles deep as his fingertips find that little soft spot inside your walls that has your eyes roll to the back of your head.

And when you open your eyes and see Jimin staring you back with darkness and lust in his own from between your legs, the band snaps.

You come with a loud moan, riding your orgasm against Jimin’s tongue, as the pleasure seems too much, too intense. But then the feeling starts to fade away and Jimin lets you relax as he leaves butterfly kisses against your thighs.

You try to catch your breath as Jimin’s kisses move upwards, up your stomach, to your breasts until he’s kissing you again. Your hands move to wrap around his neck, never having quite enough of him.

“This is not fair, you know…” you chastise him playfully, kissing his underjaw when a quiet moan rolls from his tongue.

“What’s not fair?” he asks, trying to keep up with the conversation but judging by the way his hip rut against you, you know he’s struggling.

“The fact I’m completely naked while you still have your clothes on…” you observe with a cock of your eyebrow and a smirk grazes his lips as his finger tugs at the elastic of your bra and lets it snap against your skin.

“Ah but you’re not completely naked…” he teases against your lips as his fingers move down your body in a sensual caress.

But being you, you take that as a challenge. So you push him slightly away just so you can move your hands behind your back and unclasp your bra with one movement.

Jimin’s eyes go wide as you flick the undergarment across the room, swallowing heavily before his eyes return to your bare chest.

“Now I am…” is your witty retort as you subtly arch your back just so he can have a better view. He stands there staring at you for a few seconds before he curses and moves quickly to get rid of his clothes.

You giggle at his impatience when he ends up stuck in his T-shirt, sporting an adorable pout. “Easy, baby, I’m not going anywhere…” you joke, sitting up to help him take off his t-shirt with a soft smile, one he reciprocates as he moves to unbuckle his pants.

“Well, it wasn’t me getting too impatient to- Wait…” he stops mid-sentence after taking his pants off. A spark of realization has entered his eyes before he turns to you to meet you with a teasing smile.

“Did you just call me baby?”

Your eyes widen in shock as a blush creeps into your cheeks and with a scoff you lightly shove him for daring to make fun of you.

“Y-you said it first, genius!” you try to justify yourself with a frown, but Jimin’s smirk only grows as he pushes aside his pants and crawls towards you.

“Yeah, but I’m not the one that spent more than half her life refusing to call her partners that because it’s cheesy…” he comments playfully as he traps you beneath his body once more.

“Even if the rule never applied to her…” he smiles teasingly at you, brushing his lips softly against your pout, reminding you that even if you never called your partners “baby”, you never stopped them from calling you that.

You purse your lips together as you look at your fidgeting hands, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “Well…” you begin, swallowing the lump in your throat, “...you’re different…” you mumble quietly, not really ready to look at him even if you know he feels the same.

That has him halting, and as he sees you too uncomfortable to go on, he doesn’t say anything else. He presses a soft kiss to your knee instead, wishing to convey everything he feels as well through that small kiss.

The movement of his lips on your skin is so tender that has your heart flutter and, while he looks back at you, his smile puts your embarrassment to rest. Because he’s here for you because he feels the same.

“I know it comes a little late but… Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, eyes stuck on your face, tracing your features as if he hasn’t really seen you before, not until now.

The question has your heartbeat quicken even though it’s completely unnecessary. Though your lips stretch out in a smile as you nod.

Jimin leans closer, eyes on your lips as if he’s under some spell. You suppose it’s the same you’re under.

You let his lips envelop yours gently, hands tangling in his hair as you both find yourselves moving back until you’re lying down with Jimin on top of you.

Your hands are greedy to explore his body, even though you’ve done so before. Though that time you’re main motive was to get off, so now gives you the perfect opportunity to get reacquainted with his body, to map out every little detail to memory, until he’s the only thing you see.

His lips move lower to kiss and bite at the column of your throat, eliciting the sweetest moan from your lips that sound like music to Jimin’s ears.

Your breaths get quicker, hands moving recklessly to get rid of the remaining piece of fabric that separates you. Jimin rushes to help you, throwing away his boxers, now standing in his complete naked glory.

There’s nothing else to say, not really when a single look can convey everything you feel without unnecessary words. And the way Jimin looks at you right now makes you feel like you’re in heaven. Like you’re cared for, safe and content right here in his arms.

His hand brushes a lock behind your ear and the motion is so tender, loving, it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Are you ready?” he whispers softly, eyes gentle, ready to back off if you say so, reminding you of yet another reason you’re so helplessly in love with him.

You simply nod, too afraid to talk but your smile is all it takes for Jimin to go forward.

He grabs the base of his shaft, eyes glued at that spot between your legs with anticipation. He moves forward, guiding his tip through your folds, going slowly in case it’s painful but the look of pure bliss on your face and the way your walls welcome his cock has him losing control and going the rest of the way in with a deep thrust.

Your nails claw into the skin of his back with a loud cry while Jimin breathes deeply against the skin of your neck, making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Fuck, I-...” he exhales, lost in the feeling of your pussy wrapping around him like a grip. “... You okay?” he says breathless, eyes searching yours for anything that’s not okay.

A breathless chuckle escapes you as you press your lips on his jawline. “More than okay. But please move.”

“Oh, thank god….” he mumbles before pulling out and thrusting in again. His movements are slow, yet the perfect pace to help you build up slowly but surely towards a second high.

Jimin rolls his hips with the expertise only a dancer could possess, driving his cock deeper and deeper with each roll, hitting that spot again and you can’t help but close your eyes to savour this feeling.

Shallow breaths leave you as his pubic bone brushes against your clit with each motion, driving you crazy.

“Ugh, you feel… mm’ so good…” he mumbles between thrusts, letting his lips land on your breasts, to suck lovebites on your skin.

“Jimin, fuck…!” you cry out, high-pitched moans escaping you as your hands go to his ass, coaxing him to drive his cock even deeper.

He growls from above your chest before you feel his palm cupping your cheek. “Open your eyes for me, love…” he mumbles quietly and you have no choice but to comply.

Opening your eyes, you’re met with Jimin’s piercing ones, staring at you intensely, burning with unspoken feelings that are too easy to recognize. After all, you feel them too.

You move to the side to kiss the inside of his palm before you smile at him.

He smiles back fondly at you before his hands move to lace his fingers with yours at each side.

“Keep your eyes on me, love…” he whispers before moving again.

This time around, his pace is slightly quicker, his cock hitting your sweet spot with renewed vigour and yet you can only concentrate on his eyes. His eyes that stare at you with such fondness and love it makes your eyes water.

You see the frown on his face before he stops moving in concern, yet you push your heels on his ass to keep him going.

“No, it’s okay, I’m okay, keep going…” you say, almost choking with the emotions overwhelming you. “It’s just that… I can’t believe I’m so lucky…” you admit softly, an unbelievable chuckle escaping you as you stare at him with what you hope he sees as undeniable adoration.

He smiles at you again, -you think you’ll never get tired of that smile-, before he leans in to kiss away the stray tear that flowed free from your eyes.

He picks up the pace once more, resting his forehead on top of yours, as shallow moans roll off your tongue. Your high keeps approaching, you can feel it and still you’re only focused on his eyes. Soft grunts escape him as he drives his hips into you, getting closer to his high as well, his hands grasping yours as if they’re a lifeboat.

He brushes his lips gently against yours before “I love you…” he mutters against you and you think your heart is gonna burst.

You press another kiss on his lips before, “I love you too.”

And then you don’t say anything else as your high approaches and after a few more thrusts you both come entangled in one another, each other’s names on your lips.

You lay like this for a few moments, with Jimin’s body on top of yours as both of you struggle to catch your breaths. Then your eyes find each other again and everything seems so clear, so right.

You can’t stop smiling at each other like lovesick fools as you fall asleep next to each other, at last content.

When Jimin wakes up the next morning he thinks it was all a dream.

But as his eyes rest on your peaceful sleeping form he knows he could never dream something as perfect as this.

He can’t help the lovesick smile taking over his lips as he looks at you through sleep-ridden eyes. He shuffles closer, resting his face on his hands to get a better look while you sleep soundly next to him. He feels like he can never get enough of you. Not now, not ever.

Suddenly your body begins moving though your eyes remain closed and Jimin figures you’re still asleep.

“Stop being creepy…” you mumble with a sleepy smile and Jimin grins too, realising he was wrong.

“I’m not being creepy…” he argues softly, still smiling. You pop open one eye to look at him unimpressed before you yawn and open both your eyelids.

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause it’s super romantic staring at me while I’m asleep, where can I find another man like that…” you tease him with a drowsy smile as your eyes find his.

He groans dramatically though his smile still remains. “You’re unbelievable…” he mumbles, his voice still gruff from sleep and you have to suppress a shiver before shuffling closer.

“I know but you love me…” you mumble against him before kissing his lips slowly. He lets himself get lost on the kiss before you lean back and he licks his lips to savour your taste.

“And now you can’t take it back!” you exclaim out loud before smiling mischievously at him.

Another groan breaks free from his lips. “Already regretting it…” he comments, checking your reaction from the corner of his eyes.

You gasp as if offended by his quip. “Well, maybe then I’ll just leave so you won’t regret it anymore!” you respond, gathering his sheet on your chest as you make a move to leave his bed.

But Jimin is faster, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you back on the bed, crawling on top of you with a predatory smile.

“Now, now, let’s not result in desperate measures…” he dives in for another kiss.

You can’t help but smile again as you kiss him, hands circling around his neck as he softly bites your bottom lip.

“Careful sir. You might trigger something dangerous here…” you whisper seductively, moving one leg so your thigh can rub against his already half-hard member.

Jimin’s smirk only grows. “Mmm, maybe I like danger…” he responds before his lips envelop yours once more. His hands travel beneath the sheet, tracing your skin before they move lower and-.

A loud bang echoes through the apartment, surprising both of you before a booming voice is heard through the walls, one that belongs to none other than Hoseok himself.

“Have you fucked yet or nah?!”

Your eyes widen, face immediately growing red. Jimin looks at you with an apologetic smile and before you get to ask why Hoseok is asking that, said man bursts into the room.

There’s a sudden explosion of sounds, you screaming as you hide beneath Jimin, Jimin cursing at Hoseok as he pulls the sheet to cover you both and Hoseok whistling at the image before him.

“Woah! You finally did it buds, I’m so happy for you!” he cheers you on as he steps inside to fist bump a very angry looking Jimin and a very visibly confused you.

“Hoseok, excuse my french, but what the fuck are you doing here?” Jimin is positively seething with his friends' interruption but as you see Hoseok basically beaming at the both of you, you can’t help but giggle at the absurd situation.

“I came to see if my buddies finally worked it out! And you did, finally! Can you imagine if you hadn’t and I’d burst through the door screaming that? That’d be awkwaaaaaaard!” he comments, too cheerful to notice Jimin’s deadly stare and you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.

“Right. That would’ve been awkward…” Jimin comments sarcastically though Hoseok still seems oblivious as he sits on top of the bed with a happy smile hanging from his lips.

You’re about to burst into giggles as you watch Jimin’s eyes growing wider in disbelief and you’re certain he’s gonna kill Hoseok any minute now.

“I’m so happy for you guys! My besties are finally dating!” he comments full of joy and Jimin is about to have smoke pouring out of his ears.

“Hobi, we’re happy too but I think it’d be better for you if you left…” you comment with a smile, pointing with your head at Jimin who’s about to lose it any second.

Hoseok’s eyes widen finally in realization. “Oh, whoops! Right, right, I’m leaving, keep going, stallion, show her how it’s done!” Hoseok throws finger guns at Jimin as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

As soon as Hoseok is out of earshot and you turn to look at Jimin you can’t help but burst into giggles by how absolutely mad he looks.

Though when you start laughing, Jimin’s incredulous stare turns to you. “Why are you even laughing?!”

Even though his ominous stare is directed at you, you can’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just too funny!” you say breathlessly through your giggles.

“Too funny?!” he asks incredulously before his gaze turns dark. His eyes have your laughter dying in your throat and instead another feeling rising up at the pit of your stomach.

“I’ll show you funny…” he whispers sinfully before he lunges forward and you forget what you were laughing at for the rest of the day.

There are more important matters to tend to.

#95line.net #btsguild #bangtan bookclub #kwritersworldnet #jimin scenario #bts scenario #bts jimin scenario #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #bts jimin fanfic #bts #jimin #bts jimin #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin angst #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst

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solastia · 3 years

Text

Love And Lies | 1

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x F!Reader

Summary: You are a simple maid. When your lady and dearest friend need help escaping an arranged marriage with King Seokjin so they might be together, you do the only thing you can - take her place.

A/N: It was my intention to not post this story until it was totally completed, but I got too excited. There are about three chapters already in my drafts and I just really like how it’s turning out. Don’t worry, I’m still totally working on everything else too. I’m just going through a list of popular tropes that I’ve never gotten around to writing for, and this one covers both historical and arranged marriage. I’ll be posting the last chapter of Tuqburni as soon as I get it back from my beta and finish any corrections. Make sure to leave lots of comments on this one!

“I will not do this. He cannot force me to marry some strange man for his own selfish grab for power.”

“He can. You know he does this with your best interests in mind, my lady. And everything is already arranged. You leave in the morning.”

You listen to the now familiar argument as you fold your mistress’s garments into the opulently decorated trunks. A door slams, followed by a crash like something delicate hit the wall and a high-pitched scream resonated throughout the massive bedroom.

You sigh tiredly, knowing that the woman’s ire was going to be filling your own ears next.

“What are you doing, ___? I just said I wasn’t going.”

Lady Eleanor Rose D’Aily flounced back into her bed chambers, her rosy lips turned down in a petulant pout and her wilting golden curls bouncing around as she flung herself across her bed.

“I’m afraid Master Steward already spoke with me while you were on your afternoon ride. He ordered me to pack your belongings and warned that guards would be here to escort us at first light. And,” you add, flashing a warning glance at your impulsive charge, “He informed me that guards are being placed outside of your doors and windows should you attempt to escape your fate.”

“Ugg, this is torturous. Why is Papa doing this? I always thought he’d want to keep me close. Why send me to some old man that I’ve never met and will never love?”

“I dare say he believes he secured his beloved child a bridegroom most could only dream of. After all, you’ve been selected by the King of Verinthia himself - who is not yet thirty, mind you. You’re to be Queen Eleanor of Verinthia. Think of all the wondrous things you can do for your people.”

At that her lady sighed, pondering that point. For though your mistress was unarguably spoiled, she still had a good heart. You had no doubt that if she were to be Queen, a great deal of good would be done under her reign.

“But...Jungkook. I don’t want to marry anyone but Jungkook.”

And that was the core of this rebellion. As cliché as it was, Lady Eleanor - the only child of the Duke Of Nevers - was in love with a mere Knight.

Sir Jungkook Jeon had basically been raised right alongside Eleanor after being sent by his Baron father to foster under the Duke. The lad was the youngest of eight and there was nothing left for him to inherit, so he was sent out to make his own way in the world.

He had started as a pageboy at the age of nearly eight, became the Duke’s squire at fourteen, and had been knighted and declared Captain of Lady Eleanor’s guard at eighteen. All of his formative years had been spent here at Nevers and all of them included his tiny blonde shadow begging for some scrap of his attention. The fact that somewhere along the line that childhood friendship morphed into love did not surprise you overly much.

Especially since you had been their third wheel for just as many years, and they were your dearest friends - as much as one can be friends between nobles and servants.

You had been assigned to the six-year-old Eleanor when you had been eleven, and she had always treated you more as a big sister than simply her personal maid. Therefore, you had been dragged through every mischievous plot the two had come up with, listened to them wax poetic about each other until you wished your ears would fall off, and helped transport letters between the two like their own personal pigeon.

However, no one cheered for their love more than you, either. Your lady was pampered and naïve but possessed a kind heart and a fun-loving personality that made her hard to dislike. Add to that Sir Jungkook’s honor and legendary ambition - tempered by his mischievous tendencies - and you had a match blessed by the heavens.

As far as you were aware, he’d been the very picture of Knightly chivalry and had not given in to your lady’s more impulsive urges for…taking liberties. Though you could often catch him staring longingly at Eleanor, she often bemoaned his refusal to so much as kiss his lord’s daughter beyond a chivalrous one on the back of her hand.

And now - now the poor Sir Jungkook was going to have to watch the love of his life being sent to the King. Your heart aches for the pair.

You watch as a single glistening tear rolls down your lady’s flawless cheeks.

“Do you think Papa and His Majesty will at least let me keep Jungkook as my Captain?”

You sigh and sit next to her, reaching over to run your fingers through her hair soothingly.

“He’s going to be part of our escort, but that’s it. Once we reach the palace, the Duke has stated that he’ll be granting Jungkook leave from the remaining year of service he owed - along with a keep of his own for his many years faithfully served. I heard him say it was about time Sir Jungkook started a family of his own.”

“And that’s not going to happen with anyone but my Ellie.”

The two of you whirled when the words reached you from her balcony, where a disheveled Sir Jungkook heaved himself from the massive oak he had climbed to get there.

“Jungkook!” Eleanor exclaimed happily, throwing herself at the beaming Knight.

How beautiful they looked together, even with Eleanor’s eyes reddened from tears and the leaves and twigs adorning Jungkook’s long ebony hair which had long been released from it’s usual leather tie.

“Greetings, Sis,” Jungkook grins cheekily over Eleanor’s shoulder at you.

“Evening greetings to you, Sir J…” Jungkook clears his throat at you in warning. You sigh wearily, “Fine. Greetings, Jungkook. What brings you to a chamber where you’re likely to get all our heads lopped off?”

His grin transforms into a smile of triumph as he holds Eleanor to his side tightly. “I had an idea!”

“Ooh, yes. That is news,” you nod, letting humor color your tone in the privacy of this room.

Eleanor giggles while Jungkook merely rolls his eyes. “I’m deadly serious. I have a solution that will be wonderful for us all.”

“Ohhh, My handsome Knight is so wise,” Eleanor sighs and leans her head into the preening man’s shoulder.

“You haven’t even heard the plan yet. It could be absurd,” you snort, rolling your eyes.

“It’s...a little absurd,” Jungkook muses aloud, and you grunt at Eleanor as if to say ‘Told you so.’

“Out with it, my love. I’m willing to consider anything to get us out of this madness,” She implores him with an impatient tug on his sapphire tunic - the one that Eleanor had hand-embroidered herself for nearly two years, you noticed.

“I will indeed escort you to the palace. However, once there…” Jungkook begins nervously, while you glare at him in suspicion. He refuses to meet your eyes straight on. This was never a good sign.

“Yes? Once there…” you prompt with a quirked eyebrow.

“Once there...you’ll switch with Ellie,” he says with an audible gulp. “She’ll pretend to be your maid in public and you’ll be the King’s betrothed. I’ll tell the Duke that I will stay on as Captain of the guard until I receive several copies of the deed to the keep he promised me. Once I have that in hand, Ellie and I will wed and it will be too late for him to stop us. You can simply tell the King that you don’t think you’ll suit and then I’ll spirit you both away to my keep!”

You were appalled. “So many sins in that one little plan. So many lies and…” you angrily huffed, folding your arms. “Jungkook, no one is going to believe that I’m a Duke’s daughter, nor a candidate to be Queen. My mother is a seamstress and my father is a tanner. I don’t have a single drop of noble blood in my veins. I’ll be found out and beheaded in a day.”

“Oh, but you’ve essentially been raised in a Duke’s household,” Eleanor added helpfully, obviously on board with Jungkook’s foolish plan for the simple reason that it came out of his mouth. “You were right at my side through every lesson and know everything as well as I,” she cocked her head as she stared at you thoughtfully. “And not that it will come to that, but I think you would make a wonderful Queen.”

Jungkook smiles fondly at his love, bringing her hand up to his lips to place a chaste kiss on the back of it before he strides purposely towards you. The Knight falls to one knee before you and grasps both of your hands into his, looking up at you with warm brown eyes.

“You have always been our dearest friend and the sister of our hearts, no matter our stations. I know what I’m asking of you is more than a simple favor - it’s a risk to our lives, though mainly yours. Know that I do not ask lightly, for your life is as precious to me as my Ellie’s. This is the only way I can think of to save myself and her from a life of misery. I have tried everything, Sis. I...I even dropped to my knees and begged the Duke for permission to court her.”

“You did what? When was this?” Eleanor exclaimed, and even you leaned forward in shocked wonder.

“A fortnight ago. That’s when he offered me the keep. He simply laughed at my request and said that I have been too isolated here and must have forgotten that other women exist beyond these walls. That I only offered for Ellie out of familiarity. He said perhaps if he hadn’t had better offers for her he would have considered it since I am a fine man, but he’d already talked up the King and no one could ask for better than that,” he finishes with a mocking scoff.

You sigh heavily and glance out the balcony window at the darkening sky. It was true that all seemed rather hopeless for the two of them. No doubt if you ignored this plan and simply went forward with the way it was supposed to, Eleanor would despise you. You would be instrumental in denying her from being with her love and shuffled off to an affectionless arranged marriage. Jungkook would either go off to his keep and live alone forever or demand a position in the palace to keep watch over her from afar, breaking his own heart day after day.

But...there was also your own self to consider. Say you did this thing...you would have to pretend for however long it took for Jungkook to get his affairs in order that you were the daughter of one of the most powerful nobles in the land. That there was something about you worth placing on the throne next to the young King and ruling over the lives of thousands. And if you were to slip up even once, you could spend the rest of your life in the dungeon or beheaded in the royal courtyard.

If you were wiser, perhaps less sentimental, you would say them nay. You would continue packing and close your ears to their pleas. However, when Eleanor drops to her knees next to Jungkook and stares at you imploringly with tears in her pretty blue eyes, twining her hand into her love’s like it might be the last time, you knew you were going to relent. No two people deserved to be with each other more than they. And besides, if this plot were successful, you would tag along to the new keep with them and happily stand at their side as they built a new life together, full of love and hope, and possibly children. You certainly had doubts about the two of them as parents without you around anyway. Jungkook would give their child a real sword at two years and wonder why people were missing ears. Eleanor would cry when it came time to change a nappie.

“Get up, you two,” you grunt wearily. What had you done to deserve being stuck with these two for life? “I’ll do it.”

“You will?” Eleanor squealed, throwing herself onto you with a whirl of costly silk and rose oil.

You nod. “I will do my best. Just know that if I die, I will haunt both of you.”

Jungkook grins, “We’d deserve it.”

He grabs your hand and places a brisk kiss on the back of it, then does the same for Eleanor before striding back towards the balcony.

“Get some rest, ladies. We leave at first light and it will take us several days to reach the palace by carriage.”

He vaults over the balcony onto the oak tree and disappears from sight. Eleanor sighs and sits next to you on the bed, lacing an arm in yours and placing her head on your shoulder.

“Think you this scheme will work?” She asks softly.

“It has to,” you whisper.

And it does. The consequences if it did not were far too dire.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #kim seokjin #seokjin #seokjin fanfic #seokjin scenarios #jin #seokjin x reader #mxr #solastia #medieval #historical!au #King Seokjin #love and lies #jin x reader

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after-avenging-hours · 4 years

Text

Out of Time [6]: Steve x Reader

Series Masterlist with dates on chapter releases - tag list will not be used for this series

Summary: After Steve gets injected with a mysterious substance during a mission gone wrong, you come to find out that the only thing that can save his life is a pure sample of Dr. Erskine’s Super Soldier Serum. Unwilling to let the love of your life die without a fighting chance, you travel through the quantum realm back to 1943. Equipped with little more than your knowledge of past events, you have to figure out just how exactly you’re going to get your hands on that serum. Not only that, but with the infinity stones no longer protecting the reality you’ve come from, there is now a chance that your presence in the past can change the future you’ll return to. Can you succeed without messing things up? And if things go wrong, can you fix it before it’s too late? Or will you run out of time…

Word Count: 6761

Warnings: This part contains smut, Steve is a virgin for obvious reasons, Explicit themes (18+)

The next morning, you meet up with Dr. Erskine first thing to go over the plan for the day, along with Colonel Phillips. The Colonel then calls for a vehicle escort to take you all to where Agent Carter is getting the recruits initiated. The vehicle pulls up just in time for you to see her fist flying into one of the recruit’s face.

You scoff out a laugh, wondering what exactly that guy did to piss her off.

“Agent Carter, I can see that you’re breaking in the candidates. That’s good,” Colonel Phillips announces as he approaches the group. He then proceeds to order the soldier the get himself back up.

You stand next to Dr. Erskine and sweep your eyes over the group. You catch Steve’s gaze for a brief moment before he looks straight ahead at attention. You have to glance down at your clipboard to help fight off your smile.

The Colonel begins to pace in front of the recruits and gives his introductory speech. “We are going to win this war because we have the best… men,” he falters when he pauses and glances over at Steve. He turns to shoot Dr. Erskine with a look. The Doctor has to look away to keep his face neutral. “And because they are going to get better,” the Colonel resumes his pacing. “Much better.”

He continues to explain to the men what exactly they have signed up for. An opportunity to become the man that will lead the Allied forces into winning the war. A man who will be the first in a new breed of Super Soldiers. A man who will personally bring Adolph Hitler to the gates of Hell.

“We will be testing you in just about every aspect you can think of. Strength, endurance, agility, cognition, aptitude... By the end of this week, we will know you better than you know yourselves. You are on the clock from now until we’ve made our decision next Monday. You will follow every single order, explicitly as it is given to you. We tell you to jump, just do it, don’t bother asking how high. We will tell you when to eat. We will tell you when to sleep. Am I making myself perfectly clear?”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” all of the recruits shout simultaneously.

“Sergeant Duffy, you can take it from here,” the Colonel relinquishes control of the recruits to the Drill Sergeant.

“Alright, men! Step into formation!” He orders. “First up is the ropes course! Ready! March!”

You follow after the group, along with Agent Carter. You take notes on the performance and times of each recruit as they complete the course. You bite your lips and cringe inwardly when Steve barely makes it halfway up the rope wall before losing steam. It breaks your heart to have to check the incomplete box next to his name on the paperwork, but you know if you don’t accurately report what’s happening, it will raise several questions with the others.

This is just the beginning of a very long and challenging week. Every day the men are up before dawn, they have 30 minutes to eat breakfast, then they’re jumping right into the next test. Steve’s differences from the others quickly paint a target on his back. One of the recruits, Hodge, the one that Peggy punched on the first day, seems to have a vendetta against him.

You witness Hodge kicking out one of the posts of the barbed wire crawling course, forcing the wires to collapse directly on top of Steve, pinning him down. Sergeant Duffy was quick to put Steve to blame, but you happily wrote a mark against Hodge on his form. You’d definitely be reporting this back to Erskine.

Steve struggles for a few minutes but is eventually able to work himself loose and crawls out of the remainder of the course. You frown when you notice the back of his uniform is cut in several spots. You’re pretty sure you even saw a flash of red.

Later on, the men are given an hour for lunch. As the rest of the group heads for the mess hall, you watch Steve diverge off to the barracks. You rush to your room to grab your first aid kit. You step back out of the officer quarters at the same time he’s leaving the barracks, dressed in a different uniform. You release a quick whistle to catch his attention before jerking your head to the side to indicate he should follow you.

He looks around to make sure no one else has witnessed the interaction before walking over. You take him around the back of the building before ducking behind a series of large crates. “Vic, what are you doing? We’re going to get in trouble,” Steve whispers.

“Sit down and take your shirt off,” you instruct, kneeling on the ground to open your first aid kit.

“There’s no need for that. I’m fine,” he huffs stubbornly.

You fix him with a pointed look. “Steve, the sooner you stop arguing with me, the sooner we’ll be done, and then the less likely we’ll be caught.”

He stares back for a moment before giving in with a dejected sigh. He looks around once more before ducking behind the creates, too. He starts unbuttoning his uniform and turns around to sit cross-legged with his back toward you. Once the shirt is off, you hiss at the sight of the cuts on his back. Most aren’t too bad, but there’s one going across his right shoulder blade that’s deeper than the rest.

“You and I have very different meanings for the term fine,” you scoff.

“It’s really not that bad. Just hurts when I, you know, move…”

You breathe out a laugh, shaking your head at him. There’s that stubborn jerk you know and love. Leaning forward, you press your lips to the back of his neck. He turns his head slightly to glance at you over his shoulder.

“What was that for?”

You smile, “A distraction from the pain.”

He releases a low hum before turning his head back. You disinfect your hands before reaching out to inspect the deeper cut. You prod gently at the skin around the cut. Luckily, it’s not quite as deep as you originally feared and it won’t need stitches.

“This is going to sting,” you warn as you rip open a disinfectant wipe packet. You dab as gently as you can to the cut, but Steve still releases a harsh breath.

“Think I could maybe use another distraction,” he comments, his voice tight.

You oblige with a kiss to the top of his shoulder. Once you’re satisfied that you’ve cleaned up the cut, you pull out your healing spray from Shuri. “This will feel a little cold at first, but then it will start to numb the pain,” you explain before spraying over the wound. You tape a piece of gauze over the cut to keep it protected before moving onto the smaller cuts.

As the gel begins to take effect, the tension in Steve’s shoulders begins to ease. Your concentration breaks when he releases a long sigh. “Vic, what the hell am I doing here?” he asks, sounding dejected.

“You earned your spot, Steve. Same as the rest of them.”

He scoffs dryly. “But I’m nothing like the rest of them.”

“That’s a good thing!” you insist. “Steve, you know that this isn’t just about who’s tallest, fastest, or strongest. Your strengths are up here,” you tap at his temple. “Find a way to use that to your advantage.”

“Can’t exactly think my way out of a push-up…” He sighs, looking off into the distance. “I’m just so tired.”

You’re not surprised. He’s pushing his body past its limits. “I know,” you scratch comfortingly at the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “But it’s just a few more days. I know that you can do this.”

The scratch of your nails on his scalp helps to relax him. “Thanks, Vic. It’s nice knowing there’s someone here that’s on my side.” He looks over his shoulder to meet your gaze once again.

“I’m always on your side. Even when you’re being a stubborn jerk.” You smirk humorously.

He chuckles quietly and lets you finish bandaging him up. The rest of the cuts don’t need as much attention, just a quick spray of the healing gel before covering them with a few bandages, so the gel won’t rub off on his uniform.

“Okay, you’re done,” you tell him, so he can put his uniform shirt back on as you pack up your kit and collect the trash.

He slips the shirt over his shoulders but leaves it unbuttoned as he turns to face you, sitting on his knees. “Can I get one last distraction?”

When you lift your gaze to catch his, he taps a finger to his bottom lip, right where he’s giving you a goofy grin. You match the grin with one of your own before leaning forward on your hands and knees. You tilt your head and press your lips to his. As much as you want to give in to the kiss and spend the whole afternoon with him tucked behind these crates, you know it won’t be long before someone comes looking for the two of you. If you’re caught together it would immediately disqualify Steve from the program, so you keep things short.

Pulling back, you blink your eyes open. Steve’s face looks more relaxed than it has his entire time here. You smile at him encouragingly, “Go show ‘em what you’re made of, Rogers.”

Darting forward, he places one last peck against your lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

He finishes buttoning up his shirt and stands. He looks around to make sure the coast is clear before reaching a hand down to help you to your feet. You have him go first then wait a minute before stepping out from behind the crates and make your way back to your room to put away your first aid kit.

Dr. Erskine grabs you during breakfast the next morning to go over the progress on the recruits so far. While you’re in your meeting with him, the recruits are taken on their endurance run around the entire camp. It will take the full morning to complete the round trip. You can’t help but be worried about Steve, especially since you’re not there to watch out for him.

You step back outside to meet up with the recruits at the same time that they are returning from their run. You feel dread pooling deep in your gut when you see Steve sitting in the back of the escort vehicle. As you hurry your approach, you find that he doesn’t appear to be injured. In fact, he looks rather content. Maybe even a little smug.

The vehicle comes to a stop, along with the rest of the recruits. Sergeant Duffy dismisses them to lunch, a rather sour look on his face as he holds a bundled green cloth in his arms. Steve hops out of the back of the truck, confirming your thought that he’s not injured.

“What happened?” you ask as he approaches.

“The Sergeant said that if anyone could bring him the flag at the halfway point, they’d get a ride back the rest of the way. I pulled the pins out of the bottom of the flagpole. Once the pole was on the ground, getting the flag was easy.” He shrugs casually.

You and Dr. Erskine share a look, trying to conceal your smiles to not show favoritism in front of the others.

“That is one way to do it,” Dr. Erskine tells him before you both let him continue to the mess hall for lunch.

The two of you then meet up with Agent Carter to get her notes on the recruits after their run.

By the end of the week, Steve has found a few other areas to shine through. Every time you give Dr. Erskine your reports, you can tell that it’s only helping to affirm his feelings on picking Steve for Project Rebirth. You’re currently watching the recruits running through their afternoon exercises, with Agent Carter leading them through a round of push-ups. Your attention is momentarily pulled away from the group when Dr. Erskine and Colonel Phillips walk up, arguing over Erskine’s apparent choice to pick Steve.

“You don’t win wars with niceness, Doctor,” the Colonel huffs and digs through a weapons create in the back of one of the military trucks. He pulls something out of one of the creates that you can’t quite make out from your position. “You win wars with guts.” In the next second, he tosses the object into the group of recruits. “Grenade!” he shouts and your heart completely stops.

You’re about to dart into the fray as the recruits completely scatter, but then you notice one individual jumping directly onto the grenade. “Get away!” Steve screams, huddling over the explosive device. “Get back!”

Time seems to come to a complete stop as you think that this is the moment you’re going to watch him die. A full second passes, then another. As time seems to start moving once more at a normal pace, you realize that the grenade never went off. Everyone else seems to come to this conclusion at the same time and Steve begins to push himself out of his huddled position.

“It was a dummy grenade,” one of the other soldiers announce and everyone begins to collect themselves. “All clear.”

You find yourself releasing the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

Steve looks around in confusion. “Is this a test?” he asks.

You look over to Dr. Erskine and Colonel Phillips to find the two in a staring match. “He’s still skinny,” the Colonel mutters before walking around the doctor and heads off. Erskine watches his movements, trying to hold back a smile of amusement. Once the Colonel is out of sight, he gives that smile to Steve

It’s your last night at Camp Lehigh and you can’t even pretend to fall asleep. You should feel relief, knowing that Steve was successful in getting chosen for Project Rebirth. And a part of you is. But this means that tomorrow is your last day here in this time. Tomorrow is the whole reason you even ventured back into 1943. Tomorrow is your one shot at getting the serum. Tomorrow… you go home.

Unable to stand one more second laying still in your bed, you push yourself up and move the blankets off your legs. Peggy is fast asleep in her own cot, but she’s a light sleeper, so you try not to make too much noise as you slip out of bed. You grab your silk robe to throw over your nightgown once you’ve stepped out of the room. You twist the knob of the door as you carefully pull it shut, so it won’t click. You then walk barefoot out of the Officer Quarters and make your way over to the barracks. As you approach the main door, you pause when it opens on its own.

Dr. Erskine steps out, and he catches you standing there. He chuckles quietly, holding the door open for you. “Don’t keep him up too late.”

An embarrassed smile crosses your face. “I won’t, Doctor.” You slip inside before the door shuts behind you.

Steve is sitting on the side of his cot, with his back toward the door. He looks over his shoulder as you approach, quickly standing to his feet when he sees it’s you. “Vic!”

As soon as he’s within reach, your hands dart out to yank him close. You wrap your arms around his chest and bury your face into his neck, holding him tight. He stiffens at first, before relaxing into your hold.

“Is this my congratulations?” he asks with a gentle laugh.

“This is because you jumped on top of a grenade, like an idiot, and scared me half to death!” You squeeze him a little tighter. “I need to know that you’re okay,” you mumble against the side of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, wrapping his arms around your waist.

When you feel the comfort of his nearness beginning to seep into you, you lean back and unwrap an arm to hold the side of his face. “This is your congratulations,” you say before placing your lips over his.

His arms tighten around your waist as he kisses back eagerly. “God, I missed having you so close,” he whispers against your lips.

Instead of his words causing you comfort, they hit you with a cold dose of reality. You pull back with a snap, your breath hitching.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks, looking at you with concern.

You feel the pain in your chest like a knife to your heart, and you’re sure it’s plain to see on your face. “Steve, there’s something I need to tell you,” you confess.

His eyes become cautious and guarded. “What is it?”

You release a shaky breath, feeling the tears already beginning to well in your eyes. “After the procedure tomorrow… I have to go away.”

“Go away?” he repeats, brows furrowing. “You’re getting reassigned?”

“I-” you start before cutting yourself off. You know you can’t tell him the full truth. He wouldn’t understand. “Yes,” you force out. “I’m getting reassigned.”

His gaze flickers between yours, trying to get a read on anything that you can give him. “Well, where to? Maybe I can get assigned there also.”

You shake your head, your lips trembling as you attempt to fight off your tears. “No, you can’t. It’s something I have to do alone.”

He looks like he still doesn’t understand. “So, what does that mean for us?”

You exhale sharply, looking up as a last-ditch effort to keep the tears from falling. “It means we won’t see each other again.”

“Ever?”

All of your efforts begin to fail when your gaze drops to his once more and you see the look on his face. He looks absolutely heartbroken. You feel that knife in your chest dig a little deeper. “Not for a long time.”

He watches as you begin to fall apart in his arms, but he just can’t accept it. Steve Rogers never gives up on anything. “No, we can find a way to make it work. I’ll talk with Dr. Erskine and Colonel Phillips after the procedure. If it works, they’ll have to say yes, right? And even if they say no, we can still write letters to each other. This doesn’t have to be-”

“Steve,” you cut in. You can’t allow him to get his hopes us. “This is our last night.”

His breaths come in quick like he’s gearing up for a fight, but when he sees the raw pain in your eyes, he knows that now isn’t the time for arguing. Maybe he can change your mind before tomorrow. Maybe he can’t. If this truly is the end… “Then, let’s make the most of it.”

His hands cradle your cheeks before he pulls your face against his. He’s in complete control of this kiss and you are more than happy to submit to him. You’re not sure where this sudden burst of confidence has come from, but you are reveling in it. His hands slip from your cheeks, down your neck, and over your shoulders. He pushes against your robe until it’s falling to the floor.

The two of you stumble over to his cot, not wanting to part, as your hands roam over each other’s bodies. Your hands slip beneath his white SSR t-shirt before they crawl up his stomach. He releases you just long enough to tuck his dog tags inside the shirt before he helps you pull it off. He sits in the middle of the mattress and you crawl to sit on his lap, your nightgown bunching up at your thighs.

You hover over him, hands on his shoulders as you barely skim your lips against his. He stretches his neck up as you tease, trying to get more from you. Your lips split into a grin before your tongue darts out to swipe straight up the middle of his mouth. His hands shake when they grip your hips.

“Have you done this before?” he asks breathlessly.

You stop your movements and pull back to meet his gaze. “I have,” you confirm. “Does that bother you?”

He shakes his head fervently. “Oh, no,” he insists, squeezing your hips a little tighter. “As long as it doesn’t bother you that I haven’t…” He drops his gaze for a moment.

Your lips spread into a sweet smile and you run your fingers through his hair, lifting his gaze back up. “That doesn’t bother me at all, Steve,” you assure him.

He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, and you can tell he has more to say, so you wait patiently for him. “Bucky once told me that sometimes women don’t feel pleasure if you don’t do it right.” He pauses, looking at you with concern. “Will you teach me?”

You look at him with so much tender affection, he can feel it in his soul. “Of course.” You settle yourself a little more comfortably over his lap, with your knees framing his hips. “Just start by touching me.”

He glances down at where his hands rest at your hips, then his eyes travel back up the length of your body. “Where?” he questions.

“Everywhere.” Leaning back down, you capture his lips and kiss him fiercely.

His hands seem to take on a life of their own. They trail up your sides, exploring your curves so delicately, one would think you were made a glass. They skim just past the edge of your breasts, not quite brave enough to venture there quite yet. He traces the dip of your collar bone and the bend of your shoulders. As you continue to mold your mouth to his, he uses the touch of his fingers to paint the image of your body in his mind.

His hands then skim down your back, fingers spread wide so as not to miss a single inch. They come to a stop just below the curve of your lower back. Pulling out of your kiss, you breathe heavily as you catch his hooded gaze. Releasing his shoulders, you reach back and grip each of his wrists. Continuing to hold his gaze, you push his hands down even further until they are well and truly settled over the globes of your ass.

Steve’s breath hitches and his pupils dilate completely. He may not realize it yet, but you know your man has a thing for your ass. You grin deviously when you feel his hands squeeze. You rock your hips encouragingly, rubbing up on the erection that’s begun forming in his pants. He grunts in surprise at the sensations running through him and he squeezes your ass again. He feels like his heart is about to beat right out of his chest, it’s pounding so hard.

Wanting to touch even more of you, Steve’s hands glide down your thighs and slip under the hem of your satin nightgown. He moves at a pace slower than a snail as he moves back up your legs. His fingertips brush the curve of your ass once more, and when he expects to feel cloth again, he finds nothing but skin. His lips part in shock. “You’re not wearing underwear…” he realizes.

You can’t help the short giggle that slips out. “No, I’m not,” you confirm.

He swallows thickly, trying to process that information. “Do you do that a lot?” he questions, wondering how many nights you’ve shared a bed together like this.

“Sometimes,” you respond cryptically.

He releases a shaky breath, “Oh God, I’m going to hell for this.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. “Well, then we can go together.”

“Can…” his mouth has gone dry and his voice cracks. He has to clear his throat to try again. “Can I see you?”

“You can if you take off my nightgown,” you grin cheekily.

He fumbles a little, getting the satin material up to your waist. You help him remove the gown and let it fall to the floor. And suddenly Steve has a very naked woman sitting over him. After a quick glance over you, he quickly realizes that he could spend hours looking over your body and would never grow bored. He could explore you as he would an art museum. Looking for every single minuscule little detail within the great masterpiece. Lose himself in the curve of your hip, or the swell of your breasts, or between your thighs.

You notice where his gaze drops to and recognize the curious interest in his eyes. You take one of his hands back in yours and slowly bring it to the junction of your thighs. His fingers slide over your folds and he inhales sharply.

“You’re wet…” he surmises.

“I am,” you confirm with a laugh.

His fingers do a little exploring over the area. “Are women always wet like this?”

“No, not like this. It’s mostly just during arousal. It helps to act as a natural lubricant,” you attempt to explain while he’s got his hands on you.

“Where do I… go in?” he questions, his face flushing. He feels like he’s failing in class. Isn’t there some sort of primal instinct that’s supposed to kick in or something?

You smile in understanding and guide him to where he needs to be. “Just press gently,” you encourage. He does as you’ve instructed and slowly, his finger pushes in. Your lips part and you release the sweetest little mewl as your body welcomes him. “Add a second finger,” you urge, more than ready for the satisfying stretch your body has been craving from the moment of arousal.

It’s been a while since you’ve gone this long without sex. Especially since you’d been on that recon mission with the team for several weeks even before coming to 1943. Your body was begging for a little action. You have a brief flicker of thought on whether or not this is technically considered cheating, but then Steve flicks his fingers experimentally, hitting your g-spot, and all other thought promptly falls straight out of your head.

“Oh, right there! Steve, touch me right there!”

Steve doesn’t know if he should be watching what he’s doing with his hand or if he can just stare at your face. You’re absolutely breathtaking. Neck stretched, lips parted, eyes closed. You’re a picture of pure bliss. Your hips begin to rock against his fingers as your body tries to chase after its first orgasm. Reaching down for his hand once more, you position his thumb over your aching clit.

“Rub that in little circles.” You’re growing more and more breathless the longer he plays with you. The sounds coming out of you are so sweet, Steve can nearly taste the sugar in the air. You try not to be too loud, knowing there’s night patrol walking around the camp and you don’t want to call their attention. “Oh, Steve. That-” your voice drops with a sharp exhale. “That feels so good.”

Your hips stutter against his touch and your breasts heave with every breath. Steve is mesmerized by you. He’s not sure what drives him to do it, be it that instinct finally kicking in, or purely an insatiable need, but he leans forward and takes one of your breasts into his mouth. This must be the correct move because the sound that rips out of you shoots straight to his throbbing cock. Your hands dive into his hair, tugging and gripping at the strands, but also keeping him close and encouraging him.

Steve does his best to divide his attention, keeping his hand moving between your legs while he mouths at your breast. He tries to keep his teeth out of the equation, unsure if that will hurt you. He sucks your nipple into his mouth and laves his tongue over the hardened bud. His other hand reaches back down to grab at your ass once more. He uses that hand as leverage to keep you close and encourage the way you rock into his probing fingers.

“Oh yes! Right there, Steve! Don’t stop!”

He’s not entirely sure which area you’re referring to, so he keeps up with it all. He sucks even harder on your breast, circling his tongue around the sensitive bud. His hand between your legs is beginning to grow tired, but he doesn’t dare stop, and he continues to squeeze and push the globe of your ass.

Your voice continues to rise in pitch the closer you get to your peak. “Oh my God! Oh, Steve! Yes! Yes!” And suddenly, your body is tensing above him and your walls spasm around his fingers. Your climax hits you like a splash of paint on a blank canvas. You’re seeing all sorts of colors and swirls behind your closed eyelids. You hold onto him tight, afraid that if you let go, you’ll get whisked away.

He pulls away from your breast, not wanting to miss the sight of your euphoria, but he continues the movement of his hands. His fingers are pushed in deep, stroking at your quivering walls and thumbing at your clit. Your entire body shakes around him. Steve feels like he’s strung so tight that he may just join you with the barest hint of touch to his straining cock.

“Okay, okay,” you ease, gripping at his wrist as your body begins to come down from your high. He’s more than happy to keep going, but you’re going to go nuts from over-sensitivity if he keeps it up. “That was good,” you huff with a breathless laugh, guiding his hand to gently pull out from between your legs. “So good…” you drop your head unceremoniously to his shoulder, needing a second to collect yourself.

He feels your breath fan across his chest, sending tingles in its wake. “I didn’t kill you, right?” he asks jokingly.

You giggle breathlessly, lifting your head back up. “No. You were perfect.” Cupping his face in your hands, you slant your lips over his in a sloppy kiss and start to lean forward until Steve falls back against his pillow. Your mouth drags away from his, over the side of his jaw and down his neck.

“What are you doing now?” Steve asks as your lips ghost down the center of his chest.

You place a kiss just above his belly button before grinning up at him devilishly. “Now I’m going to do you.” Your fingers hook into the waistband of his pants, popping the top button and dragging down the zipper. In one move, you pull his pants and boxers off his legs, allowing them to join the remainder of your clothes on the floor. Steve’s cock is hard and ready for you, laying against his abdomen. He’s not as thick as you’re used to, but he’s definitely got more length than you were expecting. He’s also got a bit of an upward curve right now that seems to have gone away after the girth built up.

Your gaze flickers up to see that he’s watching you intently for your reaction. You give him just the barest hint of a smirk before you lean down and drag your tongue over him from base to tip. His lips part in a shaky breath and he throws his head back. You swipe over the very end of his tip, getting a taste of the pre-cum that’s dribbling out of his head. You wrap your fingers around his base to hold him steady before you take him into your mouth.

“Good God!” he cries out, hips jerking up and his back arching. He grips the bedsheets, his knuckles immediately turning white as he squeezes his eyes shut. He’s never felt anything like this before and he knows that it’s way too much. “Vic, honey, you gotta stop,” he begs despite the way his body thrusts up into your hot mouth. “I won’t last,” he shakes his head fervently, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing up.

Having mercy on him, you release him with a parting lick to the slit on his head. You keep your hand wrapped around him as you sit up on your knees and begin to get yourself into position above him. “Are you sure you want to do this?” you ask for his consent one last time before it becomes too late.

His eyes blink back open and meet yours before he nods. “Yes, I want this,” he confirms. “I want you, Vic.”

You smile sincerely and move to line him up with your entrance. His tip has just barely brushed against your slick folds when he jolts and tightly grips your hip.

“Wait! Wait,” he rushes, making you pause. You’re about to move off of him, but his grip holds you steady. “I’m not wearing a condom,” he tells you in a hurry before you’ll think he’s backing out. “I don’t even have one…”

Your muscles relax as you laugh lightly. “It’s okay. I have birth control.”

His brows furrow in confusion. “What is that?”

You realize too late that modern birth control hasn’t been invented yet. “Uhm… well, I have an IUD. It’s like a small device inside me that releases a certain type of hormone that prevents fertilization.”

“Oh,” he states simply, but wonders why he’s never heard of anything like that before. It certainly sounds handy. “And that’s effective?”

“Yes,” you smile in amusement. “So, can I…” you glance down to where you’re still holding him.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Go ahead.” His cheeks flare with embarrassment.

You giggle at his awkwardness. “You’re so adorable.”

He winces slightly at that, his cheeks only getting hotter. “Not exactly the words most men want to hear when you’ve got your hands on his penis.”

You laugh again and stroke his length in a comforting gesture. “Well, you’re not most men.” You settle back over him and align his tip against your entrance. “You’re my man.” With that said, you begin to sink down onto him. Your body welcomes every single inch that fills you until he’s pushed in to the hilt.

“Oh wow…” he breathes, hands gripping your hips even tighter.

“You okay?” you ask a little breathlessly, your body thrumming with sexual energy.

“Yeah…” he responds brokenly, trying to hang onto his last shred of control. He’s never felt anything like this before, there aren’t even enough words to describe what he’s feeling. Good is an understatement. Great is way off the mark. Euphoric might be close, but it still seems to fall short.

You give him a second to get used to the feeling of being inside you. Your fingers glide up his flat stomach and over the ridges of his ribcage. Sure, this body is smaller than you’re used to, but he’s definitely not as delicate as everyone has been made out to believe. This last week has certainly taught you that much. No matter what got thrown at him and no matter how hard he took a beating, Steve still managed to persevere. He picked himself back up and he kept moving forward. His inner strength somehow manages to shine brighter when he doesn’t have the muscles to back it up. Even though you’d been scared out of your mind when he jumped on that grenade, you’re also so incredibly proud of him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, causing your gaze to lift back up to meet his.

“Like what?” you question, wondering what he’s reading off your expression.

“Like I’m the only man in the whole world that matters.”

The love that you feel for him in your heart swells like a balloon. You lean forward, cupping his cheeks in your hands, and brush your nose against his. “Because you are,” your words caress his lips moments before you capture them.

You start to move your hips in slow circles, taking great pleasure in the way he twitches inside you. His hands squeeze your hips before they fall back down to your ass. He uses his grip as leverage to start rocking up into you. His movements are a little sloppy, more of a reaction rather than a coordinated effort. It feels good either way and you have to pull your lips back to release the delighted gasp that’s desperate to escape.

Your hands reach up to grip the metal bar from the bed frame as you find a rhythm to grind down against Steve’s gentle thrusts. His parted lips are swollen and red from your kisses as they release stunted gasps and heady grunts from deep within his chest. His heart is pounding so fast, he thinks it might just burst, but if this is the last thing he ever gets to experience before he dies, it will be well worth it.

“Can I go faster?” you ask with a needy whimper.

Steve thinks he may pass out, but because he’s a sucker for pain, he nods his head fervently. Your grip on the bed frame tightens and the muscles in your thighs quiver as you begin to bounce yourself on his cock. “Oh shit!” Steve’s eyes roll back as unimaginable pleasure sparks through him. Every time you slam down on his cock it sends a bolt of electricity licking up his spine. He brings his knees up and digs his heels into the mattress, so he can meet you thrust for thrust. Just about every muscle in his body is screaming in protest from this past week of hard training, but he pushes through the pain because the pleasure is way too good to stop now.

Your body pulls him in so deep, he feels like he’s going to fall into you. And maybe, he already has. These last two weeks he’s spent with you have felt like a dream. You dropped into his lap like a fallen angel and every moment since has been pure fantasy. You seem to embody everything he ever hoped he could get out of a partner. You saw him for the man he actually is, not the one you wished he could be. You treated his jagged and broken edges with gentle understanding and care, instead of choosing to throw him out with the trash like so many others had before.

You made him feel like a man capable of giving and receiving love and affection. You weren’t just a flickering candle in the dark. You were a bright, shining beacon, like a lighthouse in a storm. Your light chased away his insecurities and made him believe that he could do the impossible. He wanted to spend every day of the rest of his life basking in your radiance.

“Steve! Oh my- Oh!” Your back arches and your entire body quakes with the power of the orgasm that crashes through you.

The way you clamp around him has Steve seeing stars. Just a few more quick thrusts and he’s emptying himself into you. Your bodies quiver in tandem as your hold on the bed frame weakens before you collapse against his chest. You’re both sweaty and your skin sticks together, but neither of you seems to mind.

“That…” he starts, in between his heaving breaths. “Was pretty incredible.”

You release a tired giggle and attempt to move at least part of your weight off of him. There’s not much room to go anywhere on the tiny, single-person cot, though. His hands slide up from your ass, to curl around your waist, and he keeps you close. His cock, limp and satiated, slips out from your folds when you shift back, landing with a wet slap against his thigh. You can feel a dribble of his thick cum beginning to leak out from between your legs, but you are entirely too worn-out to do anything about it.

You’re already half asleep by the time Steve tries to coax you up enough to be able to peel back the blanket and sheets on the bed. You tuck your head under his chin and slide a knee between his legs, relishing in the feeling of getting to sleep in his arms one more time. Your sigh of content is the last thing Steve hears before he falls asleep.

Part 7

#steve rogers x reader #pre serum steve x reader #40s steve x reader #steve rogers smut #pre serum steve smut

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