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#feel free to send asks- it might just take me a sec to answer them because my head is trying to murder me </3 /hy
www-librarytearoom-com · 10 months
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OMG!! oMG!! Ur dad!Mario kid!Luigi fic has me going insane. It's soo cute! Ur a genius!! i never imagined Mario as a buff dad b4 but it makes so much sense here in ur writing. All i can think about is a tiny baby Weeg and Mario alone in an apt. or house, doing everything they can for each other, feeling like it's just them against the world. Thinking about the way Mario gave up his dreams for baby weegi to live a happy life and how'd he do it again &again as many times needed. I'm pretty sure he'd straight up die for him(plz don't weegi and the audience would NOT like that) I love ur writing and how u set up the characters and interactions with each other. It Soo !!!!! Also the way u wrote Mario being so scared of not being enough and turning out like his shit parents. JEEZ if that didn't feel like a brick to the face. During the pandemic when I had just turned 17 i was left in charge of my baby niece (and younger sibs). No one wanted her cuz they claimed that taking care of an infant was too much, even worse with the added bonus of a virus. I didn't really get much of a choice but it didn't matter cuz I wouldve sold my limbs off they hadn't decided on me. Bcuz let me tell u the sec I locked eyes with her i had already fallen in love, and when she fell asleep cradled in my arms it was already sealed. (I absolutely melted when the bros met each other 4 the 1st time 🥺) They were the most stressful & tough times I've had but my God if it wasn't the best thing to ever happen in my life. I lost things & ive lost friends but not once did i ever regret having her in my life. Seeing ur Mario portrayed like this, as a guy carrying so much weight and insecurities with him, trying to do his best for his little brother, for his KID whom he loves with his WHOLE heart, just warms me up. Its so sweet and wholesome. Ur fic is always gonna have a special place in my heart.
I have questions but I feel like i already clogged up this ask lol so I'll do it later, hope u have a good day/night-🍊(<- me :DD)
Omfg I might actually cry, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING ME THIS ANON!
I'm so incredibly happy you like my AU, and the way you talk about it is exactly the way I wanted people to see my characters, so this makes me so happy! Also, you're so amazing for doing that for your niece and your Siblings! I'm the youngest sibling myself but in some households, like you know, parents aren't the most present. 99% of my life has been me looking up to my older sisters, who have given so much to raise me and keep me safe rather than my parents, so this fic is dedicated to them in a way because of how much I love them for what they did for me.
Mario and Luigi are the sweetest boys ever and they're incredible, they have a lot of internal doubt because of their unfortunate living circumstances but I'm a sucker for a happy ending so rest assured, these boys will be getting one! Mario has buff dad energy and perhaps, POTENTIALLY, Peach will have buff mum energy soon 👀
Thank you so much again and IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS OR REQUESTS FEEL FREE TO ASK BECAUSE ID LOVE TO ANSWER THEM
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askwolfsbaneband · 5 months
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(blows the dust off this blog)
HELLO FRIENDS! it is i, your humble wolf's bane mod. i'm coming back! in fact i am very nearly done with an 8 panel answer that i will be posting soon!! i assume most of you follow me on my main anyway, but if you don't, i have been... drawing nate nonstop. the interest wasn't gone i just was focused on different types of drawings.
now, the blog is a bit outdated, both artstyle-wise and information-wise. the blog's pages (linked in the pinned post) should be up to date, but i may have added things elsewhere that i forgot so i will be redoing those. the art is also absolutely out of date. the versions of the bios on the desktop theme are also out of date; the information i've added/changed is minimal but i do want it to all be accurate to my current ideas.
so i will be fixing those things, but give me a second to do it, i wanted to actually put out some asks first. if you want an undoubtedly current version of everything, i've made a second account on the fediverse, which you can find here. it doesn't have anything new but mild lore changes i already mentioned would be happening, plus it links to a retrospring account instead of any sort of native dm system. asks sent here and asks sent to retrospring will all be answered on both accounts, so you won't be missing anything unless it ends up inexplicably too horny to post on tumblr (lmao, it's possible). no pressure to join the fediverse or anything, i know it's a bit complicated. (and if you already have an account on some other instance, it might not federate with aethy, bc aethy is pro-kink and pro-fiction and some people don't like that.)
please feel free to send new asks either way! you don't actually need to know about anything nate-related i've been posting outside of this blog, bc none of it has become relevant yet (or may never at all). this account is self-contained!
i'll be posting the 5 new busts alongside the old ones in just a sec here, bc i am proud of them, but it might take me a bit to actually add them to the blog. but don't worry...
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eeeeeverything is under control.
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fractalflare · 2 years
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Hi! It’s super rad that you’re making all of these icons (not just rad but like, an actual godsend omg). I just wanted to ask what program you used for the caps and stuff or what method you used that’s most productive in getting them?
Hey there, thanks for such a lovely message!
I'm going to try and make this has straight forward as possible, so bear with me, I tend to ramble.
I use KMPlayer to take my screencaps, there might be alternative programs out there, but this is just the one I've been using the longest. Once you've opened a video you can right-click > capture > frame: extract... which will bring up this window.
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Here's my currently settings, you can tinker around with the 'frames to extract' section until you work out what works best for the type of media you're trying to cap. The prefix section is important if you're capping multiple episodes, I usually abbreviate the show title and change the number as I work through each episode, this way all caps will be in chronological order, and it's easier to sort. I extract all my caps as PNG, but there's an option for JPEG and Bitmap in the dropdown menu. The downside to capping this way if you have to let the episode run in real-time, so a 24-minute anime episode will take at least 24 minutes to cap, it can take longer the more caps you're trying to get. (I have it set to 6 frames in 1 sec at the moment which gets me about 6000 files per episode, obviously you can lower it)
I hope this was helpful, and if you have any other questions feel free to send them in, I'll do my best to answer those for you too. Enjoy the rest of your day!
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happyandticklish · 2 years
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For everyone who sent in asks for the drabble ask game thing, I do plan on answering them, I’m just gonna be working all this weekend, so it might take me a hot sec. But I’m very excited by the ones I’ve got, and definitely plan to get to them! 
Feel free to send more stuff in for it as well if you want! ^^ Even if it’s taking me a second to get through all of them, I am enjoying writing them! 
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sickbaysaturdays · 1 year
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Nepenthe
A patient with mysterious symptoms challenges Medic’s skills. The teeth of the past challenge Corporal Flynn’s resolve.
“Are my teef ready yet?” I asked, mouth still numb and floppy from the silvacaine.
Medic glared at me from across the room. The medical printer next to her glowed with blue-purple light. “Still curing.”
“Look, I’m sorry. But that guy—”
“I don’t care!” Medic burst out. “You know better! You walk away!”
“Yeah, and I know I should have, okay?”
“You scare me,” Medic admitted, looking upset. “You haven’t been yourself since Taercal.”
“Medic, I don’t want to talk about it, please.” It was bad enough that she’d seen me lose my temper.
“You don’t have to talk about it. But you have to do something about it that is not getting your teeth knocked out of your head. Dentistry, Lance Corporal! Do you know how much medics love practicing dentistry?”
Since she was asking, I guessed not much. Before I could reply, Vanh and Leung stumbled through the doors, a disheveled, emaciated man braced between them.
He wore the ratty layers of clothes I associated with Freehold Station’s vagrant population, and his sunken eyes seemed to jitter in their sockets.
“I did my duty,” he insisted, trying to pull out of Leung’s grip. “I did my duty!”
“Take it easy, friend,” Leung said. She turned to Medic. “We found him wandering the halls. He’s not making any sense, and he can barely stand.”
“Please, I did my duty,” the man insisted.
“How’d he get on board?” I asked, helping them settle the man onto a cot.
“Heck if I know,” Vanh said. “Okay, buddy, you’re in good hands now.”
I helped Medic run her usual assessment on the Freeholder vagrant: vital signs, basic blood test, and neurological exam to the extent he would cooperate for it. He told us his name was Jack, and that he was in a medical facility, but nothing else he said made sense. 
“Malnutrition,” Medic reported, paging through test results on her tablet. “Textbook malnutrition labs and vitals.”
“I could’ve told you that,” I quipped, then felt bad. Freehold, unlike Alliance jurisdictions, allowed homelessness and starvation when it was easily preventable.
“Still, he shouldn’t be this altered. Remember the POWs from Harah? They were at least this sick, and nowhere near as confused. Maybe—you know what, I need his medical records.” She crossed the room to her desk and hit the intercom button.
“Bridge-comms-Quinlan," said the exhausted voice over the speaker. I made a mental note to catch up with Quinlan at shift change. She hadn’t seemed well these past few days.
"Corporal, can you connect me to the Freehold Station infirmary?” Medic asked.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just a sec.”
After a brief silence, “Infirmary, please state the nature of the medical emergency.”
“This is the ship medic aboard the Monarch, currently docked at Freehold,” Medic said. “I need medical records on a patient who might have been in your infirmary recently.” She gave a brief description of our sleeping guest.
“Oh, that’s Wacky Jack," the infirmary person said. ”And yeah, he’s like that all the time. Just another bakehead. Mostly he just comes in with some muh-kuh complaint to get a free bed for the night.“
"Can you send over his medical records?” Medic asked, sounding a little put off.
“Sure thing.”
Judging by Medic’s face as she scrolled through the file packet’s contents, the answers weren’t there either.
“It just says encephalopathy,” she muttered. “Do you know how vague a term that is? I guess for now, we can just treat the malnutrition.”
I got a cup of oat pudding from the minifridge and sat next to Jack’s cot.
“Hey, I got a snack for you.”
He looked up at me, a little more clear-eyed than before. “Let a guy sleep.”
“You’ll feel better when you eat. C'mon, it’s cocoa-flavored.”
“Maybe later.” He sighed and closed his eyes again.
Medic tried, offering a biscuit with jam and a pouch of juice. Jack just stared at them like he didn’t know what they were.
“Then I need to give you IV dextrose,” she said. “Your blood sugar is low, and you’re dehydrated.”
“Keep your needles away from me,” he muttered, swatting at her with a grimy, skeletal hand. “Leave me be.”
“So what now?”
Medic sighed, looking more world-weary than usual. “Now I talk to Attorney Kane and the station ombuds. I hate to do this, but he’ll die without food. Would you change him out of those clothes while I’m on the line? If he’s okay with that.”
“Not a problem.”
Strictly speaking, I was a lance corporal in the spaceborne infantry. My official duty assignment was to ensure the security of sickbay and its personnel (Medic). 
Since being assigned here, I’d essentially become a medical assistant. I didn’t mind. After everything that happened on Taercal (after what I’d done), taking care of people felt kind of like burn cream.
Jack moaned as I peeled back the blankets. “Don’t make me eat.”
“No food this time,” I assured him, a hand on his shoulder. Through his threadbare coat, I could feel the outlines of bones. “Let’s get you out of these and into something clean, okay?”
Jack squinted at me, like he didn’t quite understand.
“New clothes?” I offered.
“Sure,” he said.
I unbuttoned his coats, layer by layer, and helped him out one arm at a time. He was too weak to lift his arms above his head for me to pull his shirts off. There was some awkward tugging and pulling until he agreed to let me just cut them off with Medic’s trauma shears.
Underneath, his ribs rose and fell against pale, bruised skin. His concave stomach ended in two jutting hipbones. A leathery burn scar interrupted the translucent skin of his sinewy neck and shoulder.
I wrapped the medical smock around him and tied it in the back. Stripped of his layers, he looked like he might break if I wasn’t gentle. I pulled the blankets back over him, added an extra one for good measure, and glanced at Medic.
She’d gotten up from her computer and was putting on procedure gloves. There was an instrument tray ready by her elbow.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
She looked at Jack. Her face was tight. “I got an order from the station ombuds. You need nutrients, or else you’re going to die.”
“Don’t care,” Jack muttered.
Medic sighed. “Okay. Then I need to put a tube in you to give you nutrients. Corporal Flynn’s going to hold you while I do it.”
Beside me, Jack seemed to deflate. I swear I could physically see the fight go out of him. He looked at her sadly. “What you gotta do.”
I wrapped my arms around his fragile body, taking a wrist bone in each hand, and pinned him against my chest. He winced as Medic sprayed silvacaine up his nose and into the back of his mouth, but he didn’t turn his head away.  
“Keep swallowing,” Medic told him. I ran my thumb along the back of his hand as she threaded the tube up his nose and into his stomach. He shuddered and gagged, but didn’t fight her. I just held him.
And I kept holding him while Medic connected the end of the tube to the bag of liquid nutrients. I let him rest his head on my shoulder while she hooked him up to all the necessary monitoring equipment—even I knew, after cleaning up Imperial war crimes for so long, that the first few days of food for a starving person were dangerous.
Medic finished her work and went to write her chart, pulling the curtain around us on her way out and waving off the light above the bed. We sat in darkness, chests rising and falling together.
Jack slept restlessly, whimpering and picking at the blankets. I ran a hand down his arm, whispering something calming. Once or twice, he pulled at the tube taped to his cheek, and I had to restrain his hands again until he quieted.
I didn’t know why I was doing this. I played big sibling to Medic’s patients all the time, but something about this Freehold vagrant who refused to eat drew me closer than I normally let myself get.
Maybe it was because, in darker moments, I saw myself ending up the same way. Especially lately, when I pictured After The War, it wasn’t my little cottage on Crucia anymore. That felt unrealistic. Living in unused maintenance hallways, starving and lost, didn’t seem so strange.
“Corporal?” Medic stood between the curtains, holding something in her hand.
“Yeah?”
She handed me a three-tooth bridge, custom-printed. “Your teeth are ready.”
I’d forgotten. I opened up, revealing my carved-pumpkin gap on top, and snapped the bridge in place.
“How’s that feel?”
“Much better.” I ran my tongue along the back. “I look okay?”
“Can’t tell the difference. But you’ll need to see Dr. Wick for implants once we catch up to the Libertad. The bridge just lets you chew your food.”
“Thanks.”
“Your shift’s about over,” Medic said. “I can take it from here if you want to get something to eat.”
Normally I would’ve declined, but Commander Giroux had recently loosened the Medic supervision rule, and I wanted to check on Quinlan.
“I think I will,” I said, laying Jack’s sleeping form down on the cot. He barely stirred. “Want anything?”
“Not this time, but thanks.”
I intercepted Quinlan outside the bridge. She looked wrecked.
“Want to grab some food?” I asked.
Quinlan blinked a few times and raked a hand through her wispy hair. “Huh? Oh, yeah, sure.”
We shuffled through the shift-change hallway traffic and grabbed a place in the galley line. I heaped fluffy eggs and biscuits you could hardly tell came from a tin onto my plate. Quinlan stared vacantly at her plate.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
She squinted, furrowing her eyebrows. “I—I can't—I don’t feel well.”
Someone behind us huffed impatiently. Flinching, Quinlan grabbed eggs and a few random condiments and made for the corner table.  
“So, how have you been feeling?” I asked, spearing a forkful of eggs. “I haven’t talked to you in a while.”
Quinlan picked at her packets of assorted condiments. “Yeah, I guess I’m not myself lately. I’ve had this feeling like there’s uranium in my gut or something.”
“Your stomach been hurting?”
“No—yeah—I don’t know.” She blinked, hard. “You want to know something strange? Today—I think it was today—I just woke up at the comms panel. No idea how I got there. Actually, how’d we get here?”
Something about what she was telling me felt … medical. Not combat shock either, something else.
“What’s your name?” I asked, trying to remember the rest of the questions Medic asked people to assess if they were playing with a full deck.
“Corporal Eva Quinlan,” said Quinlan. “Flynn, I know my own name.”
“Okay, how about where we are?” I asked.
“Port Pacifica,” she said, scoffing a little at me. “Flynn, what’s going on?”
I wondered the same thing myself.
“Back so soon?” Medic asked, looking up from her charting. “Oh, Corporal Quinlan. Are you feeling alright?”
I said, “We were having dinner. She was acting weird, and she couldn’t remember where we were. I thought she needed a checkup.”
Medic nodded, directing Quinlan to sit on a cot. “Corporal, where are we now?”
“Sickbay,” Quinlan said. “I’m fine.”
“What about the date?” Medic asked.
Quinlan recited the date, month, and year. “See, I’m okay.”
“Where were you twenty minutes ago?”
Quinlan had to think about this one. “Um, a restaurant?”
“Okay.” Medic nodded sideways at me. “And who’s that?”
Squinting, Quinlan said, “My … sibling?”
“Quinny, you’re an only child,” I said. 
Medic shot me a look that said to hold my comments. I obediently shut up.
Medic asked a few more questions, mostly about stuff that had happened recently. Quinlan couldn’t remember where she’d gone to infantry school (Loggerhead), the last resupply stop we’d made (Sungai Station), or last night’s movie (The God of Dreams).
“Corporal Quinlan, can you lie down and take off your jacket?” Medic asked. “I’d like to run some tests.”
“I need to get back to work,” Quinlan said, trying to stand up.
Medic gently pushed the corporal back down onto the cot. “Don’t worry; your shift ended half an hour ago. How about you let me have a look at you, okay? Can I shine my light in your eyes?”
Quinlan rolled her eyes, but let Medic do the exam. 
“Corporal Flynn, would you call the infirmary on Freehold?” Medic put away her light and switched on the patient monitor. “I need you to ask them what bakehead means.”
“Excuse me?”
Medic wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Quinlan’s arm. “Call the station infirmary and ask them what a bakehead is.”
Realizing I wasn’t going to get any more context, I had the bridge comms route me through to the Freehold infirmary.
“This is Lance Corporal Flynn on the Monarch,” I told the sleepy-sounding person who answered the radio. “I have a weird question for you.”
The sleepy infirmary employee gamely explained the meaning of the slang term. He answered my numerous follow-up questions and spelled out several long, intimidating words for me.
“Medic,” I said, hanging up the call, “we have a problem.”
It was called nepenthe, or nep for short, and you didn’t see it much outside this sector. There were a lot of long medical words for what it did to the body, but essentially, the stuff erased memories. Denatured them, was the word Medic used. 
And, since the brain is a complicated organ, it could have side effects, like nystagmus, the eye-jittering that had tipped her off to the connection between Quinlan and Jack.
“Memories aren’t precise, either,” she added. “If I tried to erase, say, yesterday from my mind, there’d be a lot of collateral damage. It’s not like editing video clips.”
Bakeheads were people who’d taken too much. Enough nep would almost completely erase a person’s memory of who they were. There were significant side effects, of course. According to the few published papers Medic could find, long-term nepenthe users didn’t tend to live very long.
Nepenthe didn’t have a documented antidote or standard course of treatment. Medic sent a message to Dr. Wick on the Libertad, and to the toxicologist who’d written the most recent paper on the drug. 
In the meantime, Quinlan was pulled from duty and confined to sickbay so Medic could map the extent of the damage.
“What about Jack?” I asked, handing Medic a pouch of injectable phosphorus. “He’s a Freehold citizen; we can’t just take him with us. Shouldn’t we try to find his family, if he has any?”
Medic shook her head. “He’s not from Freehold, and I doubt his family would want anything to do with him. Oh, that’s right, I have to ask Attorney Kane about him.”
I sighed. She did this when she’d been spending most of her time inside her head. “Care to fill me in?”
“I know him,” Medic said. She connected the pouch of phosphorus to Jack’s IV line.
Seeing she wasn’t going to elaborate, I asked, “Who is he?”
“I don’t know his name,” she clarified, “but I could find out pretty easily. He’s an Imperial soldier, or he used to be.”
“What? How can you be sure?”
Medic kept hanging drugs and setting drip rates as if nothing had happened. “I saw the scar on his shoulder. It’s from a radiation burn. I treated him." 
I stepped back, staring at Jack’s skeletal form under the blankets. He was one of Them, the enemy who’d done this to Medic and Quinlan and my old friend Sobel from Taercal (what happened to him? would I ever know?) and I had held him in my arms.  I’d given him comfort.
He deserved everything he got.
"I think he worked in guidar?” Medic wondered aloud. “Yeah, he must’ve. Hang on.” She went over to the computer and spent a moment clicking through submenus. “Here we go. Crewman Ivan Jackson, guidar tech.”
“How are you so casual about this?” I asked. “After everything people like him have done?”
“He’s a patient,” said Medic. “I’m a medic. It’s not complicated.”
Maybe it wasn’t complicated for Medic. It was for me. I was a soldier; Jack was the enemy. Normally, I knew what to do with enemies. But not when they were lying on an infirmary cot, with their mind destroyed by a drug.
Slouched in my chair with a view of the patient monitors, I read the same paragraph over and over. I’d volunteered to stay up so Medic could get some sleep. I was to call her immediately if Jack’s phosphorus level dropped, and I didn’t miss the threat in her voice.
Quinlan, at least, was sleeping. Tomorrow, Medic planned to do a test with dye and the scanner to see what parts of her brain were affected.
Restless and bored, I turned off my tablet and picked up one of Medic’s hardcopy books.  Historia Medicalis, a doorstopper I remembered her buying on Sungai. I couldn’t read the language it was printed in, but the illustrations were neat. They looked like they’d been drawn by hand, no digital assist.
Halfway through a chapter that seemed to be about early surgeries, I heard Quinlan murmuring in her sleep. She sounded afraid. Putting the book away, I pulled aside the curtain around her cot. She lay in a knot of blankets, drenched in sweat, eyes wide open but still asleep.
“Why can’t they see?” she mumbled, blurry with sleep. “C'mon, I told Suarez!”
I sat on the edge of the cot and clasped her trembling hand. “It’s all right. I’ll handle it. You don’t have a thing to worry about.”
Quinlan looked up at me with glassy eyes. “Lance Corporal?”
“Yeah, I’m right here. Go back to sleep, Quinny.”
“I’m sorry; I should’ve seen them.”
“Nobody’s mad. Just go to sleep.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I was on point; I should’ve seen them. I’m so sorry…”
Oh. That.
We’d been answering a Taercalese civilian distress call, me, Gunnery Sergeant Wong, Quinlan, Medic, and a couple of specialists from our unit. Quinlan took point. The Taercalese countryside yelled weird birdcalls at us. We didn’t notice when the birdcalls stopped.
And then we had guns in our faces, shackles on our wrists. My skull rang with the blow from the Imperial soldier’s rifle. Somewhere in the distance, Quinlan screamed, and I couldn’t find Gunny, and Medic came marching back through the brush with her hands up, a sidearm leveled at the back of her head. She hadn’t gotten far, sorry little friend I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.
We only made it back because of a chance comms malfunction that allowed the Libertad to track us and send a rescue team.
And that’s how we learned that Imperials can and will mimic civilian distress calls to lure their enemies into a trap.
“Is that what you were trying to forget?” I asked. “Taercal?”
“Can’t make the bad stuff go away,” she said. She squeezed my hand, pulled it closer to her. “It’s such a dirty feeling. I want to go home.”
“I know, Quinny. Me, too.”
I changed Quinlan out of her sweat-soaked pajama shirt and into a fresh one. She sank back onto the cot, exhausted. I waited until she was breathing slowly and evenly before I returned to my picture-book.
“Where are they?” It came from Jack’s cot this time, a thin, hoarse cry. “Where are they?”
I put the book away and stood up again.
“Where’d they all go?” Jack cried, seeing me standing at the curtain. “Where are they?”
“Keep your voice down,” I hissed. I’d just gotten Quinlan settled.
“They’re all gone,” mumbled Jack, staring up at me with sunken eyes. “Where’d they go?”
Fine. “Who’s gone?”
“Everybody, Lou,” he said. “There had to be hundreds of them in the market square.”
With a sinking feeling, I asked, “What happened to the people in the market square?”
“They’re gone, Lou. Everybody’s gone. It’s a ghost city.”
I realized Lou was probably short for lieutenant. I must remind him of an old commanding officer.
“Crewman Jackson,” I said, “I order you to tell me what you did.”
His bony arms stiffened like he was trying to stand at attention. “We cleaned the city like you ordered. High-value individuals retained for interrogation, everyone else cleaned up. They’re gone, Lieu. Everybody’s gone.” His voice broke, and tears fell down his hollow cheeks.
It took me a second to figure out what the words he used meant. The sinking feeling got worse.
“I’m sorry,” Jackson whimpered, looking damned pathetic for a war criminal. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to do any of it, but they would’ve shot me otherwise.”
“Maybe it would be better if they had,” I muttered.
I put two extra heated blankets on top of Jackson and ordered him, as his commanding officer, to go to sleep. He did, and only woke up one more time that night, calling out where are they?
“They’re dead because you killed them, soldier,” I told him. Then I ordered him to go back to sleep again.
In the morning, after a nap, I told Medic what I’d seen. Well, a version of it. There were things she didn’t need to know.
“Interesting,” she murmured. “This is promising, actually. It means the memories aren’t completely gone, just very suppressed.”
“And there might be a way to get them back?” Because then Ivan Jackson could stand trial, for the market square massacre and no doubt countless other crimes.
“It’s hard to say,” Medic said. She paged through some of the research she’d saved to her tablet. “I’d need a sample of this stuff to run my own tests. Do you think Corporal Quinlan kept any?”
“I’ve actually got a better idea,” I said. “I just have to get Lieutenant Tran to approve a day of leave.”
The Freehold station canteen was dimly lit by three working lights and one buzzing light that seemed to blink on and off when it felt like it. I sat at a scratched metal table, nursing a downright shifty beverage and admiring the many initials etched into the tabletop. I tried to look downtrodden. It wasn’t hard. I’d lost some teeth here recently.
I was almost done with my shifty beverage and wondering if I should’ve picked a different lurking spot when a man in a patchwork coat sat across from me with a tray of food.
“Couldn’t’ve picked another table?” I grumbled, gesturing to the rest of the dining court, nearly deserted in the post-lunch lull.
“You looked like you could use a friend, soldier,” he said. “I’m Mihail.”
I cautiously glanced up from my drink. “Flynn. You from Freehold?”
He nodded, cutting up his meat. “Born and raised. I know what Alliance people say about us, but it wasn’t a bad place to grow up.”
I tipped my mug at him. “Hey, home’s home, rain and all.” It was a saying from my own hometown in the Cruciad highlands.
He smiled. “You look a long way from home, though.”
“Uh-huh. But they need warm bodies for the war.”
“Awful business. I’m glad Freehold’s neutral. It’s a place where people can forget about the war. Here, try the barley mash.” He handed me a small dish of off-brown cereals.
I took a bite out of courtesy. It was salty and violently bland. “Thanks.”
“Everything I know about war is from movies,” Mihail admitted. “I’m pretty sure they get a lot of stuff wrong.”
I nodded in agreement and sipped my beverage.
“So what’s it really like to be a soldier?” he asked
I ran my finger over the tabletop’s etchings. “Not going to lie to you, kid. I wouldn’t recommend it.”
His face fell. “Why not? Isn’t it at least good to be fighting for justice and helping people?”
I almost laughed at the idea that anyone could be so naïve. That I’d been so naïve when I signed my enlistment papers.  
“You want to know what it’s like to be a soldier? You have to do horrible, inhuman things because the alternative is worse. Your friends die. You get a front-row seat to war crimes. And you change into someone you don’t even recognize or like. Your friends, the ones who didn’t die, they change too. You ask yourself every day if it was worth it.”
I drained my cup, cutting myself off before I could say any more. The beverage made my throat tingle and burn. I took a shaky breath in, and let it out very slowly.
“Wow,” Mihail said. “I never realized.”
“Most people don’t,” I said, staring into my empty cup.
“Pardon me for saying so, but you sound like you could use a break,” said Mihail.
I gave a humorless laugh. “Not going to happen. We’re scheduled for departure tomorrow, and then it’s back to the front lines.”
Mihail leaned forward, a conspiratorial look on his face. “What if I had a way for you to go back to the front lines, well, a little bit lighter? Less burdened?”
Jackpot. “And what way is that?"  I tried to sound the right combination of suspicious and interested.
"It’s a kind of medicine. It’s called nepenthe. It gets rid of sorrow like yours by making you forget things that are troubling you.”
“Tell me more,” I said.
“It’s very safe,” Mihail said. “And the nice thing is, you only need one dose. You inject the nep, and as soon as you feel it, think about all the memories you want gone. You’ll go to sleep. When you wake up, you won’t have them anymore.”
“Sounds like what I need. How much does it cost?”
Mihail grinned at me. “For you, a discount.”
I slid Mihail some paper money. Under the table, he passed me a capped syringe of dark green liquid.
For about a half-second, as I rode the elevator down to sickbay with the syringe in my pocket, I thought it would be a good idea to go to my cabin and take the nepenthe myself.  
While Mihail was talking, I’d been mentally making a list of memories I would erase if I could—the battle of Kumitan, finding the mass graves on Harah, everything that happened on Taercal.  
It was a long list. I could just take a little and give the rest to Medic to help Quinlan. It would be so easy.  
Instead, I kept walking past my cabin door to sickbay. I had a package to deliver, and I still owed Medic an apology for yesterday’s fight.
Seeing Quinlan last night, trembling and soaked in sweat, had helped me understand something. Nepenthe could bury memories, but not consequences. Not guilt or horror. You can’t escape what you’ve done. No, you just have to live with it, every damn day.
———-
Thank you for reading.  Please leave a like or a reply so I know you were here.
This will be the last Corporal Flynn story for a little while.  I’m taking a break to focus on other writing projects.  I don’t know when I’ll be back.
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It’s strange to think that one day WKIL will fall silent. That behind the counter of Tommy Chow Mein’s shop there will be nothing but an empty spot which the store owner used to fill. That Gravel Gertie won’t flick the worn out towel she always wore over her shoulder in your direction as you depart after leaving your kid with her for a run. That zone concerts won’t announce proudly the infamous Mad Gear and ever-elusive Missile Kid as headlining shows that spanned between the setting sun and the sky lighting up in technicolor from stage lights and firefights.
And still, there will come a time when the killjoys will have to figure how to live on their own. How to be safe without the doctor’s voice, how to create their own without buying everything ready-packed from Tommy’s shop, how to take care and be patient with each other without the advice of a mother to set them straight, or how to fill the silence without clashing guitars and an adrenaline rush. 
One day the killjoys will have to grow up- and perhaps that’s the most terrifying part of it all
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kayxleeee · 3 years
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Tony Stark: Are We Fighting?(Tony x Reader)
Tony Stark: Are We Fighting?(Tony x Reader)
Warning: Sexual implying if you squint.  Tony being cute and you being mad at him for a second.
A/N: Y’all this is my favorite, I love Tony fluff.
Summary: Tony’s in deep water after you notice the “head of security” watching your every move for an entire week straight. The only problem is, it’s date night, and can you really stay mad at someone with that face? 
Word Count: 2k+
*NOT MY GIF* Don’t copy my work !
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The aroma of tomato sauce and Italian herbs wafted the air around you immediately as you swung the large front door open, walking in. Tonight was date night, you were starving, but you had a serious bone to pick with the conniving genius. You kick your heels off and make your way through the foyer greeted by dimmed lights, a candle lit living room, soft romantic music playing, and an excessive amount of rose peddles leading up the grand staircase.
Nice touch Stark.
You look at it all in awe, but try to snap out of it, because you meant business tonight.
“Tony?!” You call out wondering where he was.
“In here.” He says peaking his head through the kitchen entry way, wiping his hands dry on a dish towel. “You look ravishing.” He says as he makes his way over to you, wrapping an arm around your waist giving you a quick hug and kiss on your forehead. “This isn’t too much is it?”
This was probably the best one yet. You were delighted at his efforts to make date nights memorable, especially since you hardly saw him. He had either been busy being an avenger or down in his lab working his life away. You were also very busy yourself running Stark Industries. Between the meetings and work related calls, it was a very rare occasion when you and Tony could just enjoy each others company. So this was when weekly date nights were born; Just a time to catch up and be together and have unadulterated quality time. You sigh taking it all in. Tony always does them well, especially when he is trying to make up for something. The dimmed lights, roses, music, candles, even his cologne— god, did his cologne smell good, intoxicating even. You could swoon right then and there the atmosphere was the definition of romantic and relaxing and here you are ready to uproar it all.
Damn, right.
“Told you date night would be extraordinary tonight.” He smirks taking your silence as a sign that you were pleased, while wiggling his eyebrows up and down. “Be back in a sec, get comfy.” He says giving you a wink before turning away.
He makes his way back into the kitchen to finish up whatever he had been doing previous and you follow him. He turns around and gives you a weird look, scrunching his face as he sees you following behind him. Those dazzling brown eyes weren’t going to get you this time, you were still mad— Maybe not as mad as you were before coming through that front door, but still upset enough to confront the issue right now.
“So something interesting happened to me today.” You say setting your purse on the kitchen counter as Tony strategically plates the pasta he made.
“Oh yeah?” He says maneuvering through the kitchen. “And what might that be kitten?” After he’s done, he turns to you popping an olive into his mouth, as he leans against the counter behind, ready listen attentively.
“Well I was ya know working my little ass off, minding my business… Ya know as I do every single day. When I noticed a very attentive Happy Hogan, watching my every move.” You say eyeing him suspiciously as he smiled innocently. “I thought to myself, now I’ve been seeing Happy in all sorts of wacky places this week, why would he do something like that?”
“I donno, why babe?” He says dusting his hands together for no particular reason looking everywhere else, but your face.
“Mmmh- maybe he’s just being his old paranoid, overbearing self this week. Watching my every move for no apparent reason.” You say testily, you already know Stark put him up to it. 
“Happy is very dedicated to his new position. Didn’t you hear? He’s head of security, babe. He’s gotta be eyes and ears.” He sighs, now moving from his leaning position to begin pouring two glasses of bubbly. “That’s our Happy for ya."
Of course you heard, and of course Tony was the one who appointed him, and of course Stark Industries did not need that.
“Oh jeez golly! Eyes and ears on little ol me?” You say in a fake sarcastic souther bell accent. 
He raises his eyebrows, and gives you a well justified laugh, because that accent was horrendous.
“Did you send happy to spy on me or what Tony?” You say getting to the point.
“No.” He says shaking his head from side to side frantically like a child who’s just got caught stealing from the cookie jar. “Nope, I don’t recall.”
“You don’t recall?” You scoff. “It’s a very simple thing to remember doing Tony. Did you say oh Happy please spy on my faithful, loyal, beautiful, loving, girlfriend?”
“Um— are we fighting?” We're not fighting are we?” He sighs genuinely unsure.
You didn’t want to fight or argue either, but he was getting on your nerves beating around the bush. You already knew he did it, you just needed to know why.
“Sure, we aren’t fighting Tony.” You say annoyance booming through, hoping he would just come out with it. He was definitely pushing your buttons. “Now did you send him?” 
“ I don’t recall.” He says again now putting on a fake ‘thinking’ face.
“You don’t recall asking him?! Okay, well I am sure if we give him a call that might jog your little memory.” You grab your phone out of your purse quickly dialing his number. “Mmmh I think you’ve been hit on the head entirely way too many times, ya know since you can’t recall events.”
Before you can press the dial button to call Happy, Tony swiftly reaches over the counter where you are standing and snatches the phone from your grip, ending the call before it’s made. 
“Okay, listen baby, I think we’re fighting, and I don’t want to fight tonight.” He says with pleading eyes putting his hands up in defense.
“Tony!” You yell at him going to where he is standing in the spacious kitchen. “You're not answering my question and you should have thought about that before asking Happy to spy on me!” Which I’m not understanding what for! Just say you don’t trust me and leave it at that, why play all these games?!”
His face flattened.
“Okay, kitten, listen it wasn’t like that. I do too trust you.”
So he did put Happy up to it— of course he did.
“You better explain or I’m Leaving Tony.”
He sighs heavily, shame settling on his features. 
“Happy brought up this guy? Aldrich Killian, said you dated him a while back?" “Oh my go- you don’t trust me!” You exhaust throwing your hands up and turning on the heels of your feet ready to retreat out of the kitchen.
“No!” Tony quickly follows behind you. Come on babe, let’s talk about this!” He says grabbing you by your shoulder gently spinning you around.
“Tony you’re doing a lot of the talking, and only digging yourself in a deeper hole.” You say crossing your arms. 
“Okay, let’s back track, I trust you, with everything I own, my life even. I’ve just been overwhelmed and overthinking recently. I can’t say what I did was right, but in the moment I didn’t feel it was exactly wrong either.”
“In the moment Tony really? What moment did you realize I needed to be spied on like some convict? What moment did you realize you didn’t trust me alone at work with some guy, I hardly ever dated by the way!”
“Okay, okay! I did not send him to spy on you, I sent him to keep an eye on you.”
“Same shit Sherlock and I don’t appreciate it ! You say you trust me but tis is definitely not how it’s coming off.” You huff in annoyance, trying to grab your phone from him again, in which he manages to keep it away from you snacking his free arm around you. “Give it back now, I’m leaving Tony!”
“Would you stop getting mad?!” He huffs. “Just- it’s not a trust thing baby. It’s a safety thing.”
“I wouldn’t be getting mad if you’d just tell me the truth and stop beating around the damn bush. I’m over it anyways, I’m going to be leaving now, so give me my phone and let me go.” He rolls his eyes and pulls you into him closer. “No you’re not leaving , stop being dramatic.” He says holding onto you tight, still holding the phone away from your grasp with his other hand. You scrunch up your face about to say something,  about his remark, but he quickly says. “And don’t be mad that I think you’re being dramatic about this.” He says to ensure he digs himself out of being in trouble over that stupid comment.
He continues, “You already know I trust you so don’t give me that. I did all of this because I love you.” He says holding you close and swaying the two of you slightly to the music that is still playing softly in the background.
“Not the because I love you speech.” You say rolling your eyes, hands resting on his chest trying to create distance between the two of you, but he just pulls you back into him. “You are so annoying.” You comment on the action, surrendering to his grasp.
“No it’s not like that, I just needed to make sure you were safe. No malicious thought behind it or intent, I swear. I just wanted to make name you are safe at all times.” He says softly with a sigh as he feels that you’ve calmed down.
“Why wouldn’t I be safe at work?” You say looking up at him. He now sets your phone down on the near by counter and places the hand to your face, caressing your cheek.
“Anyone can be in danger anywhere honey, I’ve learned that the hard way— and if I were to loose you? Well let’s just say for my sake and peace of mind, I might of let fear cloud my judgment and asked Happy to keep an eye on you. No spying, just an eye. You know how he gets.” He looks deeply into your eyes and you could tell he was telling the truth. “I’m sorry, okay?” He leans into you just enough to rub his nose against yours playfully. “Do you accept my apology?” He says in a child like voice, giving you puppy dogs eyes.
He was so cute.
“Okay fine, I’m hearing you.” You say caving in. “But you’ve gotta stop him from following my every move— if I’m going to the bathroom, I don’t need him right out the door.” You huff.
“Done, you got it, Happy is officially barred off of bathroom duties. Can we kiss and make up now?” He says this as his lips ghost over yours and you happily lean into the kiss, knowing full well it was long overdue after how hard he worked to impress you tonight. This kiss was sweet and sincere, while also deep and romantic. 
“I love you.” He says after breaking the kiss.
“You're a pain, but I love you too.” You both laugh before you give him another kiss. 
“Now are we still fighting?” He smirks after pulling away a second time. “Just wanna double check before I invest.”
“You're so annoying.” You laugh rolling your eyes playfully. “No we aren’t.”
“Good because our spaghetti is getting cold and our chardonnay is getting flat.” He says intertwining your fingers and spinning you around to walk into the living room. “And you look entirely too good to keep this on all night.” He says referring to your outfit. “I can’t believe you were going to call Happy.”
“Well how about next time, you don’t play with me.” You laugh ready to enjoy your dinner.
“Oh, but honey, playing with you is my favorite thing to do. I especially love it when you scream my name.” He smirks giving you a wink.
Comments, Questions, Opinions :)
See more of what I have written so far: Masterlist
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mrpenguinpants · 3 years
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Genshin: Royalty AU [V1]
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I’ve been a hermit ever since covid dropped lol. Yes, you’re doing social distancing right. Imagine going outside? Ptff, what a weird concept. But I’m happy you’ve stuck around for so long despite the constant brainworms I have. Oho?? More crumbs 👀 Lemme just crack my knuckles real quick. I’m throwing a reader in just so I have an excuse to tag everyone haha. These are a lot more scuffy compared to my usual HCs but let me brainrot for a sec. 
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Genshin: Holding Hands [V1]
Genshin: When you’re cold [V1]
Genshin: University AU [V1]
Genshin: Roomate HCs [V1]
Genshin: Mythos AU - Cat Xiao
[Masterlist]
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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.
@youaskedfurret​​ @diaxfeliz​​ @wintergreen-aix​​ @aethwie​​ @thegayrubberducky​​ @lovelykittycatmeow​​​ @yuunoagivesmelife​​ @dokidokisama @rokipersonal​​ @minakohasmanyhusbandos​​ @strwbrry-lia @tigerpriestess​​ @yuu-yuukurotsuki​​  @qimiie @onowie​​ @hanniejji​​​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @sunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ @thicmitten​ @nonniechan​ @htnicayh​ @genshins1mpact​ @morthecreator​ @aanne2601 @aklxojjk​ @fulltimeventisimp​ @legionqueensav​​​ @castinluckgamer​​​
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Zhongli
Your first impressions of Zhongli was that he was an egotistical and selfish brat. To be fair, you might have adopted some of those qualities yourself but you were both children at the time. Your sister, Guizhong, was tasked to take care of Zhongli in place of his parents which lead to your first meeting with the infamous Imperial Prince. At first, you were excited to finally meet someone who was the same age as you and Guizhong was always so kind. But when he turned to face you two, he just asked if Guizhong was supposed to be his concubine. You weren’t sure whether to gag or throw your shoe at him but Guizhong quickly intercepted before you could do anything that could get you killed. It’s only until you spent more time with him that Zhongli tells you that he has never had someone care for him or want to spend time with him without some alterative motive. 
Zhongli radiates sheltered child from birth. To outsiders, he seems really slow on normal everyday tasks but that’s because he’s never had to worry about doing mundane things. He’s always had someone else to do them for him that when he’s out in public, he just stands around and waits for someone to help him. It’s incredibly awkward for everyone in the situation when Zhongli forgets to bring mora and just stands off to the side until one of his servants comes to pick up his check. That’s how Zhongli got such a bad reputation of being a spoiled brat despite being a well-mannered and polite man. When he drops something he just turns to look at you, back at the object, then back at you. You have to pound it into your brain that no, Zhongli is not a lazy and he isn’t trying to be insulting, that’s just how he’s lived his life. When you tell him he is fully capable to picking things up, because what if he dropped something important when he was older and the wind swept it away, he pounders the thought as if you’ve just explained the meaning of the celestials to him that you give up and just pick it up for him. 
A Prince from Mondstadt named Venti used to come to Liyue for playdates while their father’s talked business and politics. He was the complete opposite of Zhongli but you genuinely liked him. While he was a bit more bolder and hyper compared to the calm and quiet Zhongli, he would always try and get Zhongli out of the palace and outside. You end up missing so many fun and interesting things when you’re locked up in your study room. How can the next Emperor care about his land when he doesn’t even know what it’s like to live there? It was the first time you and Zhongli went out just for fun and you might have gone a bit overboard in hindsight, but Venti’s personality and the feeling of freedom to do anything was addicting. Plus, watching Zhongli’s reactions to all these new feelings made him feel a bit more human. While you knew that Zhongli would do everything for Liyue, you never got the impression that his heart was in it. 
From then on, you and Zhongli try and carve some time out of his schedule to go down to the streets and have a little bit of a break. When you both built kites and scaled all the way to the mountains to fly them, it was the first time you’ve seen Zhongli be bad at something. He always had such elegance and perfection whenever his teachers asked him to do something but as soon as the kite took flight, it would stumble then come crashing down. Zhongli had the most heartbroken puppy expression on his face that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. While you’re on the ground gasping for air and probably have the most ridiculous expression on your face, Zhongli smiles gently as he looks at you then back to Liyue. The moment is ruined when Guizhong comes running towards you both and scolds you for sneaking out. 
While it’s somewhat annoying when other attendants in palace gush about how well Zhongli is growing into becoming the next emperor, both in smarts and appearance, you have to somewhat agree with them in some places. If you want to know the history of Liyue or how to properly place a tea set, he can tell you in incredible detail. However, when it comes to social cues and interactions, he’s awful at them. Everything is treated a business deal that it makes everyone somewhat nervous or uncomfortable that you’re internally dying at any social event he goes to. But despite the awkwardness, he has a lot of admires that frequently send him letters of marriage or adoration that you have to shift through. It makes you a bit uncomfortable reading the flowery language but it surprised you a bit how many people have the misconception that Zhongli planning to have you as his spouse. When you mention this to Zhongli as a joke, he returns to his thinking pose and he contemplates the idea before nodding and agreeing with the letters. He proposes to you right then and there and it’s such a sudden development that your brain has finally broke and you pass out. 
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Venti
Venti is one of those royalty types that spends so much time outside and away from his duties that he’s basically thrown his cape and crown to the wind. The first time Zhongli visited Monstadt, his first impressions of Venti were him singing to a crowd. While Zhongli doesn’t understand why Venti would spend his time on music rather than his studies, they still get along well. Mostly because Venti has a very easy going personality, even if he’s a bit blunt, but whatever comments he makes fly over Zhongli’s head. Unlike him, you’re the complete opposite. You’re a knight in training with an earnest heart that wants to protect the City of Mondstadt with your entire being. While you don’t necessarily hate Venti, because he never asked to be born into the royal family, you can’t help but get frustrated at his nonchalant attitude towards everything aside from alcohol and music. 
Your first meeting with him was during your time training under the Favonius Knights. You wanted to get a bit more practice late in the night when Venti stumbled upon you bullying a poor wooden dummy before he announces his arrival. He laughs a bit at your fumbling as you quickly get into a proper kneel but he waves it off saying it was unnecessary before he asks what you’re up to. You’re in mid-explanation when Venti cuts you off with a yawn and you can feel the irritation creeping up on you as you snap back why he’s outside instead of inside the safe walls of the castle. Your irritation grows even further when Venti smugly grins, patting himself on the back from getting a rise out of you, before he reaches into the bag you just noticed he was carrying to produce sheets of music. 
While his teacher’s drone on and on about the production of wine, he is busy writing songs in his textbooks. While he understands the importance of his role, he thinks the people can rule themselves just fine without his help. He wants to leave his crown and become a bard and live an ordinary but free life. How he’s always sneaking out to go explore without the world constantly breathing down his neck. Whether his posture is correct or if he’s memorized the history of berries wouldn’t matter. Honestly, Venti is weighing his options of either staying as a royal or leaving everything behind to pursue the life he wants. When he finishes his heart-felt speech he expects you to give him those same pitiful and woe is you eyes but you’re just angry. You can understand his sentiment, living a life that you never asked for isn’t fun, but suddenly packing your things and jumping ship would only cause chaos and conflict. At least have some sort of replacement before you leave damnit. 
Now it’s your turn to be surprised, rather than taking offense to you, a nameless knight, basically insulting the him, the Prince, he lights up in excitement. He rips his cape and crown off before he’s shoving them onto you before you can even say anything. He’s almost bouncing on his feet as he tells you that you can freely take his crown and become the next in line. You have no idea how that would work but he mentions that he knows a man named Albedo that can help change your appearance to look like him. That way, you get to protect the City you love so much and he get’s to live the life he’s always wanted. It’s completely fool proof with no flaws whatsoever! Except for the fact, that he is jumping way too far to conclusions, he’s shoving his responsibilities onto you, and most importantly, you don’t the first thing about Venti and how to act like him. 
Before you know it, Venti has dragged you to meet his Father to personally appoint you as his personal knight. He doesn’t take no for an answer even though you aren’t qualified at all to be protecting someone of high position as him but Venti’s always been a handful that someone needs to watch over him. You have no idea how one night managed to throw your entire life into this chaos but you’re not sure if you can even get out of this situation at this point. 
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Kaeya
It all happened so suddenly. You and him were playing in the gardens when his father rushed in and took both of your hands and dragged you to the border to Khaenri’ah. The land you were both used to seeing, the friendly baker that would always give you both sweets, or the magic that used to flow so freely was transformed into red cubes. You were both scared and confused but as you both reached the border oh Khaenri’ah, a large gate that leads to the above world of Teyvat, his father tells you both to run as far as you could and never look back before he pushed you both in. It wasn’t until years later that you both discovered that a corrupted god had taken control of Khaenri’ah. Now, everyone believes that the Khaenri’ah prince is dead because he’s been missing for so long and whatever hope Khaenri’ah has is gone. For his own safety, he had to change his name to Kaeya and you both found yourself at the gates of Mondstadt. 
It took a lot of adjusting for the both of you but Kaeya especially. Your mother had dropped you into the care of Kaeya’s family for a short while before everything went downhill. She was a bit on the neglectful side but she was still your mother and you knew she was alive. On the other hand, Kaeya lost his entire family and nation in a single moment. Whatever pure happiness and bright personality he used to have quickly regressed until he was a shy and quiet kid. You know he blames himself for what happened even if there wasn’t anything he could have done but he’s grown a fear of outsiders so he tends to avoid other children his age. Instead finding comfort in playing with the funny looking abyss mages and slimes that are on the outskirt of Mondstadt. While he doesn’t seem bothered by the weird comments other people make of him, you know deep down he does get hurt, that it makes you so mad that you end up lashing out. 
You end up getting into a few fights as Kaeya patches you up. He scolds you and says that he doesn’t need you to go so far for him is when you make him a promise that you’ll protect him with everything you have. It’s the first moment since everything happened that he seems to gain back that life in his eyes. He blinks at you before he chuckles sheepishly and comments that you can’t even tie your shoes correctly do you stumble a bit. You’re a bit embarrassed at your sudden proclamation but stand determined about it. You both end up making a pinky promise to stay by each other’s side until the very end. 
When you’re both older and in the position of Captain and Teacher in the Favonius Knights is when he seems to be a bit more open. You both end up gaining a reputation of the laid-back Calvary Captain that bother’s the strict but kind Teacher. He’s always waltzing in the middle of you class to tease you before you end up throwing something at him to get him to stop embarrassing you in front of new recruits. You end up getting back at him with your woe is me acting and push all your paper work on him. Since he loves spending so much time in your class, he should know how to do all your paper work right?. Despite all of this, if anyone needs to find Kaeya or you, you’re basically a packaged deal. Always attached to the hip. 
Kaeya knows deep down, at some point he’s going to have to go back to Khaenri’ah and save his people but he’s conflicted. While he knows it’s selfish that he get’s to live a life of freedom, he wants to be selfish. Not just for him but for you as well. You’ve both basically lost everything and now that things are okay, he doesn’t want to give that up. While you both promised to stay together until the end, you’re the only person he has left and he doesn’t want to rope you into his mess or have you worry about him. He’s heard of the blond traveler in black and blue that is searching for the lost prince of an unnamed kingdom, knows that the peaceful life he has right now will come to an end, but he pushes it aside. Besides, there are more important things to attend to. Today might be the day he tells your students about how you fell into a lake because you got scared by a frog. 
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Jean
Jean is incredibly dedicated to her role and to her people because she’s genuinely a good person and wants to see people happy. Especially her sister Barbara. She’s a bit awkward and clumsy in her execution but she has a lot of heart. Being her personal knight, you know just how hard she works and you admire her greatly for her ideals and nature. She has such a professional and gentle façe when she’s out in public but as soon as she’s behind closed doors, she’s collapsing into your arms as the world lifts for a short while. You chuckle a bit amused at how different she appears to the outside world, how the ever prime and proper Princess wakes up with a rat’s nest, how her favourite food is pizza, or how she throws these 7 inch heels out the window as soon as a ball is over. 
Due to Jean’s kind-hearted nature, when it comes to more pushy people she can’t seem to say no to. Travelers or citizens that think they can take advantage of the Princess is what makes your blood boil. While she isn’t stupid and knows that people are taking advantage of her, she wants to extend any help she can. Not for her public image but because that’s how she is. While it warms your heart that people like her exist, as her knight you can only let so many things slide. When some shady peddler tries to lead Jean somewhere, you’re already stepping in and smilingly sweetly as you grip the peddler’s hand in a death grip and not so subtlety say that he better have a good excuse for why he wants to drag the Princess away or there might be a problem. 
When Jean is overworking herself and nearing her breaking point is when you step in. You may be her knight but you’re also her friend and you know when it’s time to stop her destructive habits. She might complain and reassure you that she’s fine but you don’t accept that. If she was “fine” her temperature wouldn’t be the same level as a pyro slime and she wouldn’t have such dark circles under her eyes. It’s a simple bend and lift to carry her in your arms that she ends up stuttering before going pink and let’s you carry her to her room. While she’s screaming into her hands, you’re preparing medicine and everything she’ll need to make a full recovery. 
The hardest times for Jean is when her Father constantly pesters her to find a husband. Jean is an independent person and while yes, while being a workaholic isn’t against help, but she doesn’t believe she needs a husband just to make her entitled to rule her kingdom. Besides, Jean is secretly a hopeless romantic. You’re very tight lipped about secretly finding her love story books hidden under her bed unless you want to see her self-combust. You try your best to comfort her but there’s not a lot you can do for her situation other than offer words of reassurance and try and get her mind off things. While you’re patting her on the back she’s looking at you as if you’re the most oblivious person in the world. 
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Albedo
Albedo is a renowned alchemist that helps royal families with their problems with the use of his intelligence and abilities in alchemy. Something that only a few people can do throughout Teyvat, you being one of them as well. At first, you had admired Albedo and his abilities and saw him as a bit of a role model for young alchemist. Until you actually met him in person. He’s pretty much an emotionless void of a person that he comes off as extremely unempathetic when he listens to the woes of royals. While you sort of agree, the problems that royal’s commission you for are completely ridiculous and selfish, he doesn’t have a moral compass and if he can benefit from it. He’ll do it, no matter how questionable it may seem. 
Maybe it’s because you have a little sister figure in your life to stir your moral compass but it still get’s you irritated. It’s always a joy to see Klee when you come back home from your travels that whatever bad mood you were in suddenly washes away. But when you knock on Alice’s door only to have it open to reveal Albedo holding Klee in his arms does your world come crashing down. Klee is completely ignorant to your internal screams as she scrabbles out of Albedo’s hands to give you a hug and take your hand in hers as she leads you inside. You can almost feel the inner workings of Albedo’s mind as he stares at you blankly as Klee shows you the new art she drew.  
You both don’t mention or talk about it even when you happen to cross each other’s paths outside or you both end up seeing each other at Alice’s home. It’s a bit funny to you, to the outside world Albedo seems so aloof and untouchable, and yet you’re here watching him get tired from chasing Klee around and trying to stop her destroying her home with her bombs. It almost makes you smug when Klee listens to you better than Albedo, it might seem a bit petty and small but you don’t care. He ends up getting back at you when he ends up one-upping you in front of the royal court. He does a quick scan of the room before his eyes land on you and he shoots you a small smug smile before his face returns to it’s neutral expression. You’re clapping along with everyone with the most strained smile you can muster. 
You manage to find out from Klee that Albedo enjoys drawing that the next time you see him, you ask if you could see him draw something or if he had sketches on hand. You’re fascinated by his drawings, more so than his actual research discoveries, as you look at the tiny details he’s managed to capture. Outside of Klee, no one’s really been interested in his drawings that he can’t help but feel a little flustered when you’re gushing about his work. It’s different from people praising his alchemist efforts, you’re not someone whose staring at him like he’s on a pedestal when you say you like his drawings, and it feels genuine. He offers a small smile and says that if you’d like, he’d love to show you some more sketches. 
You’ve never noticed it until other people bring it up but Albedo seems close to you. Usually once he’s done his business he leaves but if you happen to be around, he sticks around a bit longer just to speak with you. How he seems comfortable to relax in your presence and even leans in closer. How he complies with your requests without any benefit to him. You’re not sure what type of relationship you hold with Albedo. You don’t think you’re friends but you’re definitely closer than acquaintance. If taking care of a a hyper active walking bomb doesn’t bring two people closer than you don’t know what does. But at the end of the day, you find you don’t really care. Not everything needs to be labelled and categorized like things are in alchemy. People don’t seem to understand but you always duck out and escape before you’re questioned further about your personal life. Unbeknownst to you, Albedo is watching you go as he ponders your words. 
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Childe
Childe is such a clown. He’s an assassin that doesn’t know the first thing about being subtle and is just in it for the fighting. He’s really just an incredibly egotistical bastard that likes being friendly with his targets, just to see their shocked expressions when it’s him that comes to take their life. He’s actually a pretty down to earth guy. While other assassins in the Fatui either have tragic backstories or some sad pitiful tale, Childe just laughs at them. His family is still alive and he’s never had any true hardships in his life. He’s pretty disliked for this reason but he’s a skilled enough fighter that it somewhat makes up for it. 
Just when Childe’s life is at its peak, is when he slips and falls into the abyss. For the first time, he had to face against a threat and in a situation he has no control over which is completely foreign to him. He barely manages to survive until he’s saved by an unknown figure that goes by the name Skirk. While he’s grateful he’s still alive, facing his mortality for the first time gives him a lot to reflect about. Thus he makes the impulse decision to train under Skirk and grow stronger until he’s able to climb out of the abyss. That’s when he meets you who was travelling with Skirk for the same reasons. Your first interactions with this unknown teen is him challenging you to a fight, just for you to throw him over your shoulder as if he weighed nothing. You expected him to get angry or cry but instead he’s standing right back up and grinning like a psychopath as he asks for another fight. You’re looking at Skirk with the most, are we seriously bringing this child with us? look. 
From then on, it’s been the three of you travelling through the floors of the abyss. Skirk tells you the stories of this place, how it used to be a great nation before corruption cause the citizens to be morphed and transformed into monsters. You and Childe learn how to fight alongside Skirk against these monsters until it ends up becoming a competition between you and Childe on who can kill the most monsters. Skirk is a bit worried that when you both are back into the outside world, if he should be worried about how morbid you both might appear. But while you’re both yelling at each other who actually landed the last kill on the regisvine while the hilichurls are cowering in a corner does he just accept that things aren’t going to change. The world will just have to accept it. If you both actually teamed up, and you have before, he thinks you both would be unstoppable but you’re both too stubborn. 
Despite your rivalry, Childe still has his big brother instincts that whenever you get hurt he’s huffing over you like a mother hen as he scolds you for being so reckless. You’re ignoring the fact that he’s bleeding out while you have minor cuts because you don’t want a crybaby Childe on your hands. Even the harsh conditions of the Abyss, you both find ways to entertain yourself. Childe always challenges you to a fight every second of the day and he always ends up with a sore back when you knock him off his feet. And he always makes the joke that you’re sweeping him off his feet which ends up with him screaming bloody murder as you charge at him. It doesn’t help when he’s still yelling comments behind his shoulder that you might get mistaken for a gorilla when you’re both outside that Skirk has gotten so used to this that he simply ignores the attempted murder going on behind him. 
When you’re both strong enough to climb to the gate of the Abyss, Skirk feels almost like a proud parent. Giving you a head pat and a hard slap to the back for Childe does Skirk wave you both off. You’re trying to mask your tears as Childe grins and promises to see you on the other side, that you’ll definitely meet up in the future no matter what. But when he finally returns to the Fatui, works his way back up to being an assassin, he almost thinks Skirk is laughing at him when he realizes that his first target is you. Not that he’s bothered by it, he'll be happy to see you again and see if he can finally beat you. 
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Baizhu
Baizhu is the most suspicious doctor in the history of all doctors. Some citizens aren’t even sure if he’s a qualified doctor but alas, he’s very good at his job and is a lot more tolerable compared to the Alchemist Albedo so that’s how he’s been able to keep his job. He works under the Liyue emperor so even if citizens had issues with him, it’s not like they could do anything in the first place. People aren’t sure whether he’s joking or being honest when he explains what he’s been privately working on behind the scenes. From experiments to rituals, they are taken aback but Baizhu just smiles and says he’s just kidding. Being his assistant, you have to constantly reassure others that Baizhu is a bit of a sadist and likes to get a rise out of people. Besides, why would a doctor be so interested in those type of things? It’s incredibly unnerving but no one questions it. They won’t know what to do in the first place if their suspicious are correct. 
While Baizhu knows how to do his job, he’s always sending you to do the dirty work. From getting medicinal plants up on the very top of mountains or bringing cranky old men their prescriptions, whenever you’re done one task he’s got three more for you. He could at the very least take the trash out while he’s busy doing nothing. At least the job has a few perks. You’ve always had numerous health issues and while Baizhu’s reputation is a bit on thin ice, you wouldn’t trust anyone else to look you over. He’s a bit weird about it, you’re pretty sure Baizhu will never love another person emotionally but when it comes to the science behind a human body, he’s absolutely smitten. He tries to reassure you that he does care for the wellbeing of Liyue but you wave it off at him trying to butter you up before he asks something ridiculous of you. 
You and his snake, Changsheng, do not like each other. You think she’s an annoying and bratty snake that Baizhu needs to throw into a jar to shut up while she thinks you’re a complete nuisance and doesn’t understand why Baizhu keeps you around. Baizhu has tried to get you both to reconcile but it always devolves into a petty argument of back-handed insults until Baizhu has enough and tells you both to quiet down. To be truthful, both of your hatred towards each other stems from two completely different reasons rather than disliking each other’s personality, but you can never bring it up to Baizhu. It’s not a conversation anyone wants to have. 
If he has one positive, it’s his adopted daughter Qiqi who is just an absolute sweetheart. She’s shy and prefers to follow after Baizhu and you like a lost duckling. While Baizhu might be the worst boss in this history of all bosses, it makes you grin smugly internally when Qiqi chooses to stay cuddled in your arms instead of his. Qiqi is 95% the reason why you stay in this job, not that Baizhu would ever let you leave, because you’ve genuinely grown fond of someone for the first time the same way she has for you. You bring her along whenever you need to give prescriptions to citizens just so she isn’t stuck in within the same four walls and the locals love her. From her forgetful nature or how she shy’s behind your legs whenever someone new approach's you both. It’s so cute that people tend to ignore the floating rumours that Baizhu is reanimating his previously deceased family. 
---
I have no idea if I’m just uncultured or if “Always and Forever” Au’s are a thing. I hope you all like this 👉👈 it’s kind of messy and all over the place and I lowkey don’t know if I like my brainrot (there’s a lot of issues ik). I kinda want to do a part 2 where I include other characters but let me know if that’s something interesting? Oh and feel free to add to this, I’d love to hear your ideas. 
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laurensprentiss · 3 years
Text
Jouska [Hotch x Reader]
Chapter 13:
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Gif credit: @hqtchner
A/N: I toyed with several ideas for this one, but I wanted the reader to be strong in her own right which is why this takes the direction it does.
Warnings: Strong depictions of violence, assault, blood, vomiting. Graphic injury, choking, gun violence.
———
“What you remember saves you.” - W.S Merwin
———
“You don’t like what I’ve done with the place?” 
“Jordan.” You breathe. “What did you do?” 
His jaw sets. His expression goes from glee to fury and he’s next to you in a flash, nose to nose, dragging your head back by the hair on the nape of your neck. A wince escapes your mouth when the pulling sends a sting up your scalp. 
“What do you mean, what did I do? Isn’t it obvious?” He sneers, punctuating his words with another pull of your hair. 
You cry out in pain, your neck straining. The rabid look in his eyes and his bared teeth send shivers down your spine.
He continues, “I made sure you were going to stay all...mine.” He whispers, releasing his grip, smoothing the top of your head. “Isn’t it sweet? I did it all so I could have you all to myself… and instead of thanking me, you’re acting like you’re above me. Like you always do. Maybe I need to teach you how to be grateful-” 
“I’ll be grateful.” You offer in a quick breath. “I mean- I am. I am grateful. I was just so…” You swallow thickly, tearing your eyes away from the pictures, “Surprised that you did all this. For me.” You fight the tears pricking your eyes. 
“You mean that?” 
You swallow the bile rising in your throat. “Yes. I do.” 
“Good. Y’know all I ever wanted was us to be together? When you broke up with me, I admit, I was angry. I thought you were fucking somebody else.” He paces the length of the room and that’s when your gaze falls to the gun he has tucked into the waistband of his jeans. “But I realised you couldn’t possibly.”
You brace yourself when his gaze falls to his handiwork on the walls. 
“But then…” He inhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I saw you with him.” His volume rises steadily. “I send you gifts, I send you letters, I give you clues, I even draw blood for you and you repay me by parading around another man?!” 
You cry out when he delivers a blow to the left side of your face, a crack resounding in the room. Your skin blisters red hot where he strikes you, you swear he’s torn open some skin on your cheek. It sends your head spinning, you figure you’re already nursing a concussion, this just makes it worse. 
“That’s not-”
“Don’t you interrupt me.” He spits, his face close enough for you to smell the bourbon on his breath. “You had him come to my house today, try to scare me? He thinks he’s a big powerful man, FBI… that badge doesn’t mean shit, he doesn’t know who I am.” 
“Jordan-”
“What was it about him anyway? You could’ve had me, you know, we could’ve been a dynasty.” He’s grandstanding. Always did have a problem with his fragile ego. He turns his back to you, scanning the pictures on the wall. “He’ll get what’s coming to him. I’m having it taken care of.” He mutters.
Your blood runs cold. “What do you mean?” 
“Oh, sweetheart. You’re not stupid, you couldn’t possible have thought that I’d let him live?” 
Your heart skips. The ‘other guy’ that was to be taken care of - Hotch.
“Jordan, no. It wasn’t like that, I swear.” He turns slowly, rage behind his eyes that’s only thinly veiled by a psychotic smile. “There’s nothing between us! Please don’t do this. I’m begging you, don’t do this.” You plead.
“Why do you care?”
“-What?”
“Why… do you… care?” His eyes are fanatical, nostrils flared. “If nothing happened between you, why do you care what happens to him?” 
You know why now.
“Because I don’t want anyone to die! Him, Emily, anybody! I don’t want anyone to get hurt.” You stutter through your sobs. “Please don’t do this.” 
“You don’t want him to die? How stupid do you think I am?” He grabs the back of your head and directs you to a picture of you and Hotch on the gazebo - the day you’d met. “You look at him like that because he’s a friend?” He spits. 
He’s right, though - that’s the thing. 
You don’t know how you didn’t realise sooner, how you didn’t see it sooner. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t see your own face when you were around him, but the way you look at him, your smile. 
You don’t think you’ve looked at anybody like that before. 
Tears roll down your cheeks now, eyes welling over. 
He smooths over your hair, straightening out his own shirt. “I will make it quick though. Humane. I owe him that much.” 
“What?” 
“I owe him. How do you think you got here?” When you can’t formulate the words he continues, “Hm, let me spell it out for you.” He continues his rapid pacing, fingers compulsively scratching his neck. “We break up, you betray me, so I leave the country. I come back, try to get you back, you betray me, again. FBI man comes into the picture, his girlfriend feels neglected, said girlfriend then conveniently runs into me at a bar after an argument, confides in me and starts sleeping with me. She’s a real peach, though. Total Type-A, wouldn’t let me fuck her raw.” He adds, rolling his eyes. 
You feel nauseous. 
You wonder if Hotch knows. 
He goes on, “I fuck her, she tells me everything I want to know. Including the fact that she thought he was cheating on her.” He laughs bitterly. “I thought we might have had something when you called me a few months ago, remember that? That was a good time.” Your stomach turns when you think back to the worst mistake you’d ever made. “But then you stopped taking my calls, I put two together from there, figured you were fucking him. I knew then that he had to die.” He rolls his eyes. 
His smile reveals a row of eerily straight teeth but there’s nothing behind his eyes except a sick kind of glee. 
“It wasn’t like that, I swear to you, he never touched me.” You plead with him, desperately. You reckon with the fact that if you couldn’t regain control of this situation, Hotch would die. “Look, I’ll do anything.” 
“Anything?” 
“I swear. Anything. Just call it off, please.” He considers your statement for a moment, kneeling down between your knees again. He makes a point to flash you his gun, the silver glinting, before reaching for a switchblade that’s tucked into his back pocket. You flinch when he brings it purposely closer to you but he cuts you free. 
“I’m going to test you. Stay here with me. You run, I kill him.” He lays the knife flat against your bruised cheek, “Then I kill you.” He whispers. You wince when the sharp edge breaks a thin layer of skin and you feel a warm trail of blood on your cheek. 
You nod desperately, agreeing. “I swear. I’ll do anything, just call it off.” 
Just as he finishes cutting you free, his phone vibrates against the wooden table under the window. He excuses himself, face lighting up for a moment. You try your best to hear, but the voice on the other end is indistinguishable. 
Jordan’s responses are short. 
“Fitz.”
“Hello?” He presses the phone closer to his ear. “Lawrence? It’s done?” He smiles at the response from the other side. 
“30 minutes.” He hangs up and rattles off a quick text message before setting the phone down again. 
He sighs, concealing his unhinged glee when he turns to look at you. “Bad news babe.” He says tutting, knowingly with a disturbing smile. “I know I said I’d call it off but,” he waves the phone in the air, “it’s already done. Your friend, Aaron?”
Oh please, no. Don’t say it. 
“He’s dead.” 
———
Once the first bang reverberates in the nurses’ station, time seems to move in slow motion. McCall yells for everybody to get down, cocking his gun. Panic erupts for a moment before everybody falls to the ground, the first shot already fired. 
Where it comes from, who fires first, it isn’t clear, the whole thing in reality is over in a matter of seconds but time still seems to stop. 
Now, McCall kneels over a dead body, hyper-aware of eyes on him, “He’s gone.” He whispers. 
A hand grips his shoulder from behind as he stares down at the corpse in front of him laying in a pool of blood, three bullet holes in the chest. 
His ears still ring. 
“Hey. Emily’s fine. I had two cops posted outside her door.” He turns to find Hotch, who can’t tear his eyes away from Officer Lawrence’s dead body in front of them. 
They’re about to let medical personnel clear out the area and wheel him away in a body bag when Hotch spots something in Lawrence’s scrub pockets. 
“Wait! Hold it a sec?” He asks, retrieving a piece of paper and cellphone from Lawrence. They make their way back to Emily’s hospital room in unison.
McCall looks at him, puzzled. “You okay?” 
“Yeah, why?”
“That was the first person you ever shot, right? He’s dead. You’re allowed to not be okay.” 
“I’m fine - I need to focus. I need to get her back.” He’d be lying if he said his hands weren’t trembling but he has more pressing matters on his hand. The need to get you back safe and sound outweighs any personal conflict for him. He unfolds the piece of paper, muttering aloud a series of numbers. “It’s a phone number. What’d you wanna bet it’s Jordan?” He does a double take when he sees his own name written in capital letters on the other side of the paper, passing it to McCall. 
“Some vendetta, hm? He was sent to kill you.” McCall takes the phone from Hotch and starts to dial when Hotch places a stalling arm on his. 
“Wait.”
He dials Garcia’s number deftly, asks her to search for a location on the number before they call it, but to his disappointment, it’s a prepaid. He then has Garcia set up a track and trace before he lets McCall dial the number.
“Ready, Garcia?” 
The phone rings three times before it’s answered, Jordan’s voice curt and straight to the point, assuming it’s Lawrence. Hotch can hear Garcia’s typing and beeping but when McCall doesn’t say anything, Jordan takes matters into his own hands. 
“It’s done?” Jordan asks outright. 
“Yes.” McCall replies with little inflection, keeping his voice even so as to not arouse suspicion. Jordan gives McCall a time - 30 minutes, before snapping the phone shut. 
McCall tries the number again, but it’s dead. Destroyed. 
“Garcia, anything?” Hotch asks desperately. 
“No, sir, it was barely long enough to triangulate the call, I’m sorry.” 
“Keep searching, Garcia, we need this address. Look for something in isolation, out of the way. It’s gotta mean something to him.”
“Yes, sir. Typing as we speak.”
Hotch rubs an exasperated hand over his beard, “Y’know the media can’t get wind of this, if he has access to a TV or radio and sees I’m alive? He’ll kill her.” He shudders as the words leave his mouth, making way for the possibility that he does not want to reckon with. 
You might already be dead. 
He dials quickly “Chief Barnes? I need a favour.”
———
He’s been pacing the length of Emily’s hospital room for the past twenty minutes, waiting for Chief Barnes to call in every favour he can to keep the media at bay so they can keep up the charade. He increases the TV volume opposite Emily’s bed when he sees a news report flash across the scene. 
“Good evening, everybody. We come to you live tonight with some breaking news.” 
He braces himself. Did Barnes manage to cover the hit on him?
“The daughters of two US Ambassadors have reportedly been involved in what appears to be a multi-car collision in the Virginia countryside, earlier tonight.” 
Two pictures appear side by side of you and Emily. 
“The daughter of Ambassador Prentiss was rushed to hospital earlier tonight and remains in critical condition at Bridgepoint Hospital after sustaining multiple injuries. The daughter of the US Ambassador to France however, is reported to be missing. The Ambassador himself is reportedly unaware of his daughter’s condition, presumed to be en-route to Paris tonight. Three people were pronounced dead at the scene, including Metro PD officers Evan Matthews and Howard Denton.”
He waits anxiously for any mention of his own name or Jordan, Lawrence, but the anchor passes over to the correspondent.
He sighs in relief, just as his phone rings. 
“Garcia?”
“I think I finally have a location on Fitzgerald. I checked for any and all properties under Senator Fitzgerald’s name, his second and third wives, his spawn’s name, even the Fitzgerald Family Trust. Nada.” She pauses for breath. “So. I dug down deeper. I searched instead for any properties under Sloan Marie Fitzgerald - still nothing. But then I chanced a search under her maiden name, Hamilton, and wouldn’t you know - the Hamilton family had a cabin between Rock Creek Park and Montgomery County. The late Mrs. Fitzgerald would take him to said cabin most summers before she died.”
“Alright, good work. Send us-”
“I'm not even going to let you finish that sentence, because it’s quite frankly insulting. Coordinates are on their way to you now, Sirs.”
Hotch huffs a laugh, it’s the most he can muster right now. He knows he owes Garcia a massive bouquet of flowers after all this is over. 
He grabs McCall by his jacket. “Suit up. We’ve got an address.” 
———
‘He’s dead.’ 
The onset of shock and unmistakable rise of nausea had caused you to retch violently and empty the contents of your stomach into the nearest toilet. 
Your legs had given out then, and you’re now planted on a dusty armchair, finding yourself staring into nothingness, your body still stinging with the shock and injuries you’d sustained. 
It’s all you’ve done for the past fourty something minutes. The blood stays rushing in your ears, and the pounding in your head is unrelenting. You haven’t said a word since, your body’s energy drained. You’re almost catatonic, unable to even shed a few tears for Hotch’s death. 
He’s dead. He’s dead because of you. 
You think back to the first time you met, he’d been so bright eyed and optimistic. Disarming. You think about the way he’d told you about his hopes and dreams, his plans for the future as a profiler. He’d had so much to live for. All of that had been ripped away from him because he’d gotten involved in your case. It was your fault he was dead. 
And you didn’t know how you were going to make it out of this. Your limbs feel like concrete - fatigue, shock and grief make it hard to formulate any kind of rational thought. Jordan’s hand comes to smooth the top of your head once again, but the gesture is far from comforting or loving. 
“It’s okay. You’ll see in time, this was for the best. This way, there aren’t any distractions.” He whispers. He’s been pacing the length of the cabin, repeatedly checking his second burner as though he’s awaiting some news. 
He resumes his pacing when you finally break your silence, your voice hoarse. 
“You killed a man.” You whisper. 
“What’s that?” 
“You killed a man.” You sob quietly. “You had someone killed, that doesn’t mean anything to you?” 
“Oh I did more than just have your little lover killed. I made sure your father and that Prentiss bitch were taken care of too.” 
Your vision tunnels, a high-pitched whine penetrating your skull. You feel like the ground has just been ripped from under you, like you’re falling. You can feel your heart shatter, the splintering fragments of your life piercing your skin. 
“My father? He’s not here. He’s-”
He glances at his watch. “-On his way to Paris?” You feel the bile rising again. “I know. Like I said, I’m having it all taken care of. They’re all dead, babe - or will be, soon.” He brings a hand to your face, brushing his thumb over your cut. “Don’t you see? I did it so I could have you all to myself.” 
The glee in his voice provokes something in you, a rage you’ve never felt before. You figure you have nothing else to lose, everything and everyone you ever loved is dead, you’d either fight and die quicker, or you’d stay and die slowly. 
In a move that stuns even you, you spit on Jordan’s face and bring your hand up to strike him notwithstanding the piercing pain in your ribs. The flat of your palm makes sharp contact with his bearded cheek. The sound echoes in the room, and your own hand stings from the force, but a minute satisfaction settles into your bones. 
He takes a minute to steady himself, but when he turns to look at you, his eyes flash with something you’ve never seen in a person before. In one fell swoop, he drags you to stand by your hair, pushing you into a glass frame against the wall. 
The glass shatters, puncturing the skin on your cheek and forearm where you bear the brunt of the impact. He lands two blows to your stomach, causing you to keel over, winding you. The pain blooms to your already bruised ribs, your breaths ragged. He grabs you then by the throat, pinning you against the wall, your breaths coming short and constricted. 
He shakes you against the wall, his hand tight around your throat, cutting off your air. “You ever pull something like that again, I’ll kill you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.” He growls in a low voice. “Do you understand me?” You can feel the blood pumping in your face, your eyes starting to bulge. 
You drive your knee into his crotch with all the force you can muster, exactly like Hotch had taught you. You then go for his shin that only gives you mere seconds to grab your breath when he lets you go in pain. 
You fall with him, knees giving out when you gasp for breath, and when you see him charging towards you again, you reach to your right for a dusty glass vase that sits on a single table. You manage to get yourself back on your feet right as he’s about to make contact with you again, the butt of the vase smashing into his skull. 
He cries out in pain as he falls to the ground again on all fours, blood streaming down his face. A gash on his forehead seeps blood and several pieces of glass are embedded in his face. 
You’re still trying to catch your own breath when you spot the silver glint of his 9mm catch the light in his back pocket. 
This is your chance.
You half-crawl, half-run to him, landing a violent kick to his stomach to strike him down. You grab the gun from his back pocket, stumbling a little from the adrenaline coursing through your veins, your hands trembling. You check the magazine and load it as fast as your hands will allow.
You grip the Beretta just as Hotch had taught you, wrapping your dominant hand around the magazine, your index finger parallel to the chamber. Your other hand wraps around your dominant, as you stand over him.
“Get up.” You snarl. “Get up, NOW!” You order him through your coughs. 
He turns around slowly, slipping twice on his way up, groaning with the exertion. His face mirrors your own, a gash on his lip and forehead, blood streaming down his cheek. 
He chuckles darkly, revealing a set of shark-like teeth that are covered in his blood. “Oh… you think you’re hot shit. You even know how to use that thing? Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” 
Your body aches feverishly and you swear you could pass out at any minute, vision blurry. You can feel your grip loosening and you’re trying to centre yourself when Jordan takes advantage of your momentary slip. 
He lunges for you in a flash, knife in hand. 
———
“We’re about a mile out, I want sirens and lights off. He can’t know we’re coming.” Hotch says into his radio. He’s watching the road ahead as they get deeper into the woods, the off-road terrain making it hard to keep control of the SUV. 
They’re backed up at rear by three MPD police cars, Chief Fuller’s attempt at making nice with Hotch after their earlier altercation.
He swallows thickly, his mouth like cotton. He knows he can’t afford one wrong move, not here. Not with you. He needs to get you back. He made a promise to Emily. 
He’ll die trying. 
He keeps a firm grip on your chain, rubbing it one last time for steady luck before tucking it into his shirt pocket. 
A clearing of trees reveals another path to them. It leads off into the distance, to a small wooden cabin around 80 feet away. It’s illuminated by amber light emanating from a single window. 
“Alright, guys. Nice and slow, headlights off, we’re gonna dismount now. Everybody out.” He whispers into the comms once they clear another 50 feet. 
Leaves rustle underneath their feet as they stealthily approach the cabin, guns cocked. Hotch has three cops flanking him and McCall brings up the rear, covering the back exit. 
They’re almost at the entrance when a loud bang resounds from inside, and Hotch short circuits, his knuckles white around his glock. 
Inside the cabin, you send Jordan flying with a shot to his shoulder, the smell of gun smoke burning your nostrils. Your hands tremble violently, your mind temporarily blanking - you feel like you’re swimming. Your ears ring from the noise, a high-pitched whine piercing your brain. 
There’s another bang almost immediately after Jordan stumbles backwards but you’re sure you only fired one shot. 
Jordan’s body in front of you is your only focal point, so much so that it’s only when you see McCall and two cops approach him writhing on the floor that you come back into your body. 
You realise the second bang had been them kicking down the front door. Your hands on the Beretta loosen just slightly and you let out a deep exhale. The voices in the room are still swimming as your brain slowly catches up. 
“Grab her.” McCall’s voice calls out. He shouts into the comms that he needs medics, and suddenly there’s a distinct feeling of a hand on your wrist and a body next to you. You reassure yourself that Jordan is on the ground so you let your hands fall limp, dropping the gun and it falls to the ground with a sharp clack. Your eyes are still trained on McCall pressing on Jordan’s wound. 
“Hey, hey, hey. Look at me.” The voice cuts through your still-ringing ears. 
You know that voice. 
You’d know that voice anywhere. 
Your heart thunders, and your lips start to tremble as you try to reconcile everything you thought was reality with what’s really in front of you. 
You turn slowly to find an achingly familiar pair of warm hazel eyes. 
He’s alive. 
“Aaron?” You sob. You reach out for him but he catches you before you can stumble, his arms steady around your waist. He whispers into your hair, bringing a protective hand up to cradle your head as you sob into his chest. 
“It’s okay. I got you. I told you I’d come for you.” 
His voice is the last thing you hear before you black out, your body finally offering you some well-earned reprieve.
———
Tags:​ @oreogutz @andromedasstarship @galacticnerd-78 @izzyl13 @bananabucky @crying-river @purpledragonturtles @gabbysblogthingy​ @archiveofadragon​ @yoshigguk @acidicbloody @jeor @ivebeenthinkingboutu​ @bauslut @averyhotchner @vashanatasha @hotchwhore15 @pjmjams @slxtherinchxser
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eliemo · 4 years
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Blameless
Summary: Logan knew it was only a matter of time until Thomas found out, but he had no intention of pushing Virgil out of his comfort zone. Unfortunately, things are a bit different right now. 
Masterpost
Notes: I plan on writing the “incident” mentioned throughout this fic sometime soon. It’s killing me to plan out
Logan had known it was only a matter of time until Thomas found out. 
He’d been the one to suggest telling him right away, just days after Virgil’s past had come to light. After all, it couldn’t do any harm to have him on the same page when it came to redirecting a harmful mindset.  
But he’d quickly dropped it upon seeing how distressed the idea made Virgil. Logan wasn’t quite sure what he was so afraid of, (Rejection? Dismissal? Annoyance?) but he had no plans to push the anxious side out of his comfort zone. 
Unfortunately, things were a bit different right now. 
It had been almost a week since the...incident had occurred, and while things were steadily improving, they were still hardly back to normal. 
Virgil was still horribly jumpy, wide eyed and trembling far more than usual, apologizing relentlessly for even the smallest things like he was terrified they were all still upset with him. 
Not that anyone had been upset with him to begin with. Just...stressed and worried, was all. They’d all triggered some kind of panicked response from Virgil before, but last week had been a whole different story. 
But that was in the past. It wouldn’t happen again. 
That being said, Virgil still needed time. And Thomas wanted to film today. 
Logan had done what he could to get the date rescheduled, but logically, there was no reason not to film today. Not without a viable excuse, and he knew better than to push the idea of telling Thomas the truth. Virgil would open up when he was ready. 
So now they were all in Thomas’s living room as usual, sharing wary glances as they talked through their host’s latest problem, hoping he wouldn’t notice Virgil was just a bit quieter than usual. 
Virgil’s hands were still wrapped in bandages- and Logan made a mental note to check how those were healing when they were done here- but he was able to keep them hidden beneath his sleeves. 
The issue today was fairly standard- Thomas panicking over a reaction from one of his friends, frantically scrambling as he tried to figure out how to respond and move forward. 
It was the kind of discussion that would usually have them all bickering, shouting over each other with no real malice, probably getting frustrated and carried away in the process until they inevitably came to some kind of conclusion. 
Today, they were careful to keep the volume low, cautious not to lose their temper, Patton and Roman sending less than subtle glances Virgil’s way every few minutes. 
Really, with how obvious they were being, Logan would be more worried if Thomas didn’t pick up on something being off. At the very least, he was bound to be feeling a little extra anxious recently. 
But he hadn’t said anything, Virgil left to his quiet fidgeting from his usual place on the stairs, so perhaps they could--
“Virge? What do you think, buddy?” 
Then again, perhaps not. Thomas was speaking softly, and Logan knew he was only trying to gently encourage Virgil to voice his thoughts, but the anxious side still jumped at the sudden attention, eyes widening slightly. 
“I...s-sorry, what?” 
“I was just wondering what you thought,” Thomas said. “About what Patton was saying.”
Logan saw Patton wince at the question, at the way Virgil was beginning to look helplessly cornered, Thomas still watching with oblivious confusion. 
He should have tried harder to get them to reschedule. Today was a bad day. 
“I- um, I don’t know,” Virgil said. “Sorry, I-I was just, I was…”  
“Zoning out a bit?” Thomas offered, his smile easy and gentle. He’d meant it lightly, Logan knew, but Virgil actually flinched at the implication. 
“N-no I was listening,” he said quickly. “Or, I- I was trying to, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to space out.” 
“What? No it’s...It’s fine, Virgil. Honestly, we were all just rambling at this point, right guys?”  He turned, just in time to see the worried glances Patton and Roman were failing to hide. 
“Right!” Patton exclaimed, too quick and too cheery, and Logan resisted the urge to groan at how utterly horrible the two were at nonchalance. “Everything’s ok! You’re doing great, kiddo!” 
Virgil sunk even further into his hoodie, fiddling with the strings, looking like he would rather be anywhere else in the world, the attention clearly overwhelming. 
Thomas noticed, frown deepening, and he quietly cleared his throat before turning to the creative side. “Roman? Can you stop the recording for a sec?” 
Roman hesitated, looking to Patton and Logan as Virgil began noticeably trembling. But he did as he was told, moving to shut the camera off as Patton hurried to Virgil’s side, talking too softly for the others to hear. 
“Alright, what’s going on you guys?” Thomas asked, missing the way Virgil flinched again. “Logan tried to change the schedule earlier, which we all know is unheard of, and all of you are acting...really weird.” 
Logan opened his mouth to answer, everyone else stubbornly silent, but Virgil beat him to it, his voice heartbreakingly small. 
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, we can...we can keep f-filming, Thomas.” 
Immediately, Thomas’s expression softened. “Hey, buddy it’s ok. I’m not upset, I just wanna know what’s going on. Obviously something’s been happening for a while.” 
Virgil stared resolutely down at his lap where Patton had intertwined their hands, and Roman was shifting restlessly by the camera, clearly waiting for someone else to take the lead. 
Logan sighed, realizing that despite his own lingering stress, he was still the most composed person in the room. As was usually the case. 
“Thomas,” he said, hands automatically fidgeting with his tie when the others turned their attention to him. “There was a...situation a few days ago. It’s been sorted out since then, but today might not be an ideal time to film.” 
“A situation?” Thomas echoed. “Is...is that why I had a panic attack earlier this week?” 
Virgil’s head snapped up at that, kept only from scrambling to his feet by Patton’s tight hold. “You felt that? I- I’m so sorry I thought I...y-you said you felt fine and I thought--” 
“No, no, Virge it’s ok.” Thomas was moving towards the stairs, crouching to Virgil’s level, careful to keep a couple feet of space between them. “It wasn’t that bad. Your panic attacks don’t usually get to me, but this one felt...different.” 
Virgil shrugged, but offered a reluctant nod. “Yeah it was...more intense than usual, I guess. Sorry.” 
“What did we talk about, kiddo?” Patton squeezed Virgil’s hand, smiling sadly. “You don’t have to apologize. It wasn’t your fault.” 
Virgil didn’t answer, still refusing to meet anyone’s gaze, shoulders hunched under the weight of their stares. 
Thomas inched closer, ankles brushing the stairwell, finally breaking the silence. “Virge, can you...tell me what happened?” 
Logan was actually surprised by how quickly Virgil shook his head, looking like Thomas had just suggested something ludicrous, like talking to a cute guy in public. He’d known Virgil was adamantly against telling Thomas any of this, but he hadn’t realized just how hesitant he was. 
“I-I can’t,” he stammered, looking to Patton for help. “I can’t say, I’m sorry, I just...I can’t tell you.” 
“Perhaps it is time we told Thomas,” Logan suggested. “He’s bound to find out eventually, Virgil. And I can assure you, there is nothing to worry about.” 
“But of course, you don’t have to!” Roman added, looking almost just as nervous as Virgil. “It’s entirely up to you!” 
“I’m not gonna pressure you into anything,” Thomas said. “But you know you can tell me anything, right? I’ll do what I can to help.” 
Thomas’s living room was silent for a long moment, the only noise being Patton’s overly exaggerated breathing to keep Virgil from hyperventilating. They all waited, patient and silent, careful not to do anything to make the anxious side feel rushed. 
Logan blinked, surprised when Virgil’s eyes were suddenly locked onto his. 
“Can…” he paused, chewing on his lip. “Can you tell him? Please?” 
Logan gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile and nodded. “Of course. Would you prefer to be in the room or wait somewhere else?” 
Virgil hesitated, free hand tugging at his hoodie, glancing up at Thomas as if to make sure he wasn’t upset with the change in plans. 
“Do you want to wait in the other room, kiddo?” Patton asked. “I can come with you if you want.” 
Virgil nodded, the relief in his eyes painfully obvious, but Logan didn’t miss the tremble that stayed in his hands, the wary, anxiety riddled glances he kept sending Thomas’s way as Patton led him up the stairs. 
“I’ll come get you in a few moments,” Roman called, moving to sit on the edge of the couch, wringing his hands in his lap. “Teach?” 
Logan cleared his throat, adjusting his tie again as he turned back to Thomas, suddenly painfully unsure how he was supposed to continue. 
“Right...Yes. Well,” he started. “A few weeks ago we became aware that, ah...actually Thomas, would you like to sit down?” 
He was stalling and they all knew it- he wasn’t exactly trying to be subtle. But Thomas went along with it anyway, sitting opposite of Roman while Logan awkwardly remained in his usual spot, careful not to fidget. 
“You are, of course, aware of the other sides.” 
“Yeah,” Thomas said. “The dark sides, right?” 
“You have, being a complex and emotional person, many facets of your personality,” Logan explained, ignoring the question. “Some are not as...developed, or as fundamental as the four of us. Most you will likely never interact with. I doubt they even have the ability to manifest.” 
“Okay?” Thomas looked to Roman for some kind of clue, concern clearly morphing to confusion. “What does this have to do with Virgil?” 
Roman clasped his hands in his lap, switching between staring intently down at the floor and looking at Logan- who was frantically trying to figure out the best way to put the delicate situation. 
“Soon after we had accepted Virgil as one of us,” Logan said. “It...came to our attention that he was not...treated well, in a sense, by a majority of the other sides.” 
Roman scoffed. “That’s one way of putting it.” 
“We had all noticed right away, of course, that he was uneasy around us, and always a bit on edge. We all thought he was merely nervous about being rejected again and assumed it would pass.” 
Logan was resolutely not looking at Roman. He would not lose himself, would not fall apart in front of Thomas. He was simply restating facts. That was all. 
“I found him in my room about two weeks into our attempts to get to know him. He was borrowing some reading material and he...well, he believed I intended to strike him as punishment, since he was used to that being standard.” 
Logan risked a glance up, allowing himself to be relieved at Thomas’s expression. He was horrified, as was expected, but there was compassion and understanding flickering in beneath that. 
He wasn’t sure what he had been so afraid of. Perhaps Virgil had been rubbing off on him a bit. 
“But he’s...he’s alright now, isn’t he?” Thomas asked. “I mean, he knows he’s safe with you guys. Right?” 
“It’s a...work in progress,” Roman admitted, and Logan quickly jumped in to elaborate at Thomas’s growing distress. 
“And he is making a great deal of progress. We’re all very proud of how far he’s come in such a short period of time. But it is not something that fixes itself right away.” 
Thomas nodded, scrubbing a hand over his face, and Logan shared a worried look with Roman, both sides at a loss of what else to say or do. 
“How long?” Thomas asked suddenly. “Do you know...how long it went on for?” 
Logan shook his head. “Not exactly. We’ve all...helped Virgil talk through his experiences in chunks whenever he is comfortable. But from what I’ve gathered, it would have been several years at the very least.” 
That, clearly, was not what Thomas had wanted to hear, distress only doubling as he dropped his head into his hands, Roman frantically attempting to provide comfort. 
“Thomas--” 
“Years?” Thomas pushed himself off the couch, Roman hurrying to follow. “It went on for years and I just-- fuck I just let it happen?” 
“You did not let anything happen, Thomas.” 
“He’s my anxiety, Logan!” Thomas shot back, and Logan couldn’t help but be thankful that Joan wasn’t over to hear this particular rant. “It happened in my head and I didn’t even--” 
“Thomas.” Roman’s hand on their host’s shoulder shut down his rambling, the Prince's voice uncharacteristically grim. “There was no way for you to have known. None of us knew- hell Virgil didn’t even know it wasn’t normal!” 
They’d all gone down a spiral of self blame, obsessing uselessly over what could have been since they’d found out what Virgil had gone through. 
If they had just been kinder to him, welcomed him sooner, tried harder to get him to open up from the beginning, then maybe they could have stopped it, saved him from the treatment sooner…
But there was no use in those thoughts. All they did was upset Virgil, who refused to allow anyone to feel guilt over him, half the time convinced he was still just a minor inconvenience. 
“Placing blame is not of importance,” Logan said. “What’s important is Virgil’s safety, and learning how we can undo what has been done. He’s been...conditioned to have a very unhealthy mindset.” 
Thomas took a shaky breath, still much more pale than Logan would like but noticeably more collected than before. 
“You guys found out about this a while ago,” he said after a moment. “What about this last week? You said something else happened?” 
And just like that the tension in the room skyrocketed once again, Roman meeting Logan’s stare with wide, questioning eyes. 
It was like they hadn’t talked about it. They’d had several long discussions, both with and without Virgil, doing all they could to ensure nothing like that ever happened again. 
But Logan didn’t think they’d ever really...recounted out loud exactly what had happened. They all knew. They didn’t need to relive the details. 
Which was illogical, of course. It happened, it was terrifying at the time- the glass, the blood, the way the mindscape had been too quiet- 
But it was over now. It was a mistake, an oversight, and it wouldn’t happen again. And Thomas had the right to know. 
“You don’t have to tell me,” Thomas said, and Logan was surprised by the sheer force of the relief that hit like a tidal wave. “It’s ok. I trust you guys to take care of him.” 
“We will,” Roman agreed. “Always.” 
Logan nodded and Thomas took a breath, running his hands through his hair before glancing at the empty stairwell. 
“Roman, do you think you could go get him? I wanna talk to him if he’s up for it.” 
The creative side nodded, glancing at Logan for some kind of unspoken approval before hurrying up the stairs, disappearing the way Patton and Virgil had left, leaving Logan and Thomas alone in the suddenly much too quiet living room. 
The logical side adjusted his tie once more, eyes trained on the floor. “Virgil has been worrying over your reaction for weeks,” he said. “Please attempt to keep your emotions in check.” 
He couldn’t help but think back to that first day, when Patton had lost himself in his emotions, and Virgil had been convinced that anger was directed towards him. 
Luckily, Thomas seemed to pick up on the uneasiness because he just nodded again, glanced once more at the staircase, and moved back to his spot on the couch. 
“Did...did Deceit hide this from me too?” 
“Not that I’m aware of,” Logan said, and unfortunately that was the truth. He didn’t know. “But from what I’ve gathered, I don’t believe he ever laid a hand on Virgil.” 
That, of course, didn’t mean he hadn’t known about the abuse. No one had really gotten the nerve to ask the dark side about the affair.
But there wasn’t a need to fill Thomas’s head with any more doubts.
It wasn’t long before there were footsteps from the stairs, Virgil reluctantly following Patton into the living room, Roman lingering a few paces behind. 
Thomas waited until they were all off the staircase before scooting over, patting the spot next to him. “Hey, Virge. You want to come sit?” 
Virgil shrugged, shoulders hunched and hands buried in his pockets, but he made his way over to the couch, sitting as far away from Thomas as possible. 
He didn’t look like he was panicking, Logan noted with some sense of relief, just miserable and wary, like he was expecting the worst. 
“Did Logan tell you?” Virgil asked, pressed up against the back of the couch with his knees pulled up to his chest. 
“Yeah, he did.” Thomas moved closer, still careful not to crowd the anxious side. “Buddy...do you think I’m gonna be mad at you?” 
Virgil shrugged. “No. I...I don’t know. Maybe.” 
“I don’t think Thomas has ever been angry with you, kiddo,” Patton pointed out from his spot by the window. “And I really doubt he’s gonna start now.” 
“Of course I’m not angry with you, Virge. Why would you think that?” 
A beat of heavy silence, and for a second it looked like Virgil would refuse to respond at all. But there were no tell tale signs of a panic attack, even as he took a small, trembling breath. “Because you should be.” 
It was mumbled, barely audible, and Logan frowned as Thomas looked like he’d just been slapped. “I- what?” 
“You should be,” Virgil snapped, finally looking up to face the others. “All of you should be! You should...you should be furious with me and you’re not and it’s been months and I don’t get it!” 
His breaths were steady, albeit labored, eyes wide as he met each of their stares, voice only slightly wobbly, and Logan briefly wondered how long he’d thought about saying this. 
Roman took a careful step forward, still hesitating by the stairs. “Virgil...why do you think we’re going to be mad?” 
It was a question they’d all asked him before, when he got that panicked look in his eyes when he thought he’d done something wrong. But this...Logan knew this was something different. This wasn’t panic. 
He didn’t like it any better. 
“I don’t,” Virgil argued. “I know you won’t be and that’s the problem.” 
No one knew what to say, exchanging helpless glances as Virgil took a steadying breath, finally focusing on Thomas. 
“I just...let them do that to me,” he said. “They said I had to be- be h-hurt and I just believed them like an idiot. It probably just hurt you and I didn’t even realize!” 
“Virgil, there was no way you could have known. You thought what was happening was normal.” 
“How is that any better, Logan? I thought I deserved it just because they told me I did. I never tried to fight back! It just...to me it just made sense. I deserved it. I...I still think I do sometimes.” 
“Virge--” 
“But you’re all so nice to me. I just...I-I love you all so much and I don’t know how...I just keep messing up and panicking over stuff I let happen to me and making your lives harder and it’s...what if I don’t get better? After what happened last week how long are you gonna…” 
He paused with a shaky breath, clearly resolutely determined not to cry. “What if I don’t stop doing this to you? I-I keep...doing this and- and I try to listen to you but sometimes I...I get it. I get why they did it. I mean, if I’m just such a fuck up that that’s the only way to control me, then why don’t you guys just do the same thing and beat the shit out of me so--”
“Virgil!” 
Logan hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he could see Virgil getting more and more worked up, and the last time he’d brought up any of them getting fed up enough to resort to violence Patton had burst into tears, which would do nothing to help the situation.  
Luckily, the flash of fear in Virgil’s eyes as he fell silent only lasted a second, recognition taking over as his shoulders dropped. 
“Sorry,” Virgil muttered. “Sorry I didn’t mean to say all that, I know you guys...I know you won’t do that. I just worry...I don’t know.” 
Thomas was scooting closer again, watching Virgil with an expression Logan couldn’t quite read. Sadness, definitely. But it was also fond, something protective and kind. 
Logan thought Thomas was the only person kind enough to look at their anxiety like that. 
Good. Virgil deserved that kindness. 
“Virgil,” Thomas said, arms now open and inviting, his smile warm and genuine. “Come here?” 
Virgil didn’t hesitate. His face crumpled and the facade he was trying so desperately to put on faded as he fell forward into Thomas’s embrace, holding him tight. 
Logan smiled, sinking out along with Roman and Patton. They would need to talk about what had happened- all of them, but it could wait. 
Virgil needed some time with Thomas, and Logan had no doubt he would be taken care of. 
To Virgil’s own, silent amazement, he managed not to dissolve into tears the second he realized Thomas not only wasn’t upset with him, but offering physical comfort. 
The others had sunk out sometime into the hug, leaving the two of them alone on the couch, and he did his best to breathe through the lingering panic at the memories of what he’d just said. 
Thomas didn’t let go, but didn’t try to pressure a conversation either, seeming to know Virgil needed some time to find his voice again. 
Instead he just leaned back slightly, enough so both of them were resting comfortably against the back of the couch, and turned the tv on to some mindless show, the background noise helping to ground them both. 
His arms were still wrapped around Virgil, comforting and safe, and the anxious side’s breath hitched as Thomas began carding fingers through his hair, unable to stop himself from leaning into the touch. 
Thomas shouldn’t be taking care of him like this. Not when Virgil had done nothing but hurt him. 
He pushed those thoughts away, closed his eyes, and willed his mind to focus. 
It was impossible to tell how much time passed, everything fuzzy and far away, but Thomas never pushed, waiting until Virgil was ready to talk on his own. 
“I’m so stupid.” 
The fingers in his hair stopped, just for a second, before starting up again, even more gentle than before. 
“You’re not,” Thomas said. “You’re not, Virge. You were being hurt and manipulated. It wasn’t your fault.” 
He’d heard this all a thousand times before. It wasn’t his fault, it was manipulation, his reactions were normal, he shouldn’t blame himself. 
It helped to hear, sure, but only in the short run. It all came creeping back eventually, taunting, jeering voices mercilessly screaming in his head. 
“I know,” he said against Thomas’s shoulder. “But I believed them. I know what they did wasn’t my fault but I never questioned it. I hated the way it made me feel and I still never tried to get it to stop.” 
“You thought you didn’t have a choice.”
“Nobody else would be stupid enough to believe that,” Virgil muttered. “You wouldn’t, the others wouldn’t, I just always thought...I thought I was helping but I always just make it worse.” 
For a second, Thomas didn’t answer, the low volume of the television the only sound in the living room. For a terrifying second, Virgil thought Thomas was going to agree. 
“You make us better, Virgil,” he said, the same words Princey had spoken in his room. “Not worse. Never worse. Don’t forget that.”
Thomas pulled back slightly, just enough to meet Virgil’s eyes, carefully moving a hand under his chin when the anxious side averted his gaze. 
“You aren’t stupid, buddy. And you did not deserve that. Any of it. You couldn’t have known- we all treated you like a villain, and you thought you had to be the bad guy.” 
Virgil shrugged, taking a shuddering breath. “I thought...I was just trying to protect you.” 
“And you do,” Thomas said. “You always have. Nobody blames you for believing what they told you. Especially not when you were scared.” 
Thomas finally allowed Virgil to look away, the side staring down at his lap, forcibly reminding himself not to pick at the bandages under his sleeves. 
“I hated it,” he mumbled, face burning. “I wanted it to stop so bad so I don’t know why...why I can’t accept that it’s over.” 
“You’ll get there,” Thomas promised, more certain than Virgil had ever heard him. “You’ll realize someday you didn’t deserve it. We’ll show you that you deserve to be loved, Virge.” 
Thomas pulled him close again, the hug tight and desperate on both ends, and for just a moment Virgil thought that with an embrace like this, a family so open and understanding, he would never be afraid again. 
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Text
Black ribbon and silver bows
The fifth of may meant that there were exactly 2 months until Draco turned 17. Draco had gone above and beyond for your birthday, spoiling you with 17 individually wrapped gifts that he sent you on a wild goose chase around the school to find. You wanted to make him equally as special as he made you feel, but what did you get the boy who could get anything he wanted?
You thought about getting him a pet, but you didn’t think his mother would appreciate a cat roaming around the halls of the Malfoy Manor. Then you thought about getting him a broom, but as usual, Draco already had the best of the best. Your mind turned to clothes, but the man only wore black shirts with tailor-made trousers. 
“Still thinking about what to get Draco?” Blaise’s voice asked, pulling you from your thoughts.
“Ugh yes, anything I think of, he already has”
“You’re fault for choosing rich, should have dated a Weasley, they’d be over the moon with an unworn robe” 
You smacked Blaise’s arm “Don’t be so rude, Blaise. Just because you don’t like them doesn't mean you can be a prick”
“Why don’t you make him something? I’m sure the elves would let you sneak into the kitchen to cook, you could draw something, write him a poem”
If you were a cat, your ears would have pricked at hearing the word ‘draw’, Draco was never a fan of the decorations in his room, maybe you could paint him a painting that he could hang up on his wall.
“You might have just saved Draco’s birthday”
The increase of chatter across the library hinted that your free period was over and it was now time for lunch. You and Blaise collected your things and returned the books to the returns trolley before making your way to the great hall. You bumped into Draco, Pansy and Daphne on your way there. The five of you made your way to the Slytherin table to see Crabbe and Goyle already tucking in. 
“Why am I not surprised that you two gluttons are the first on the table?” Blaise asked, throwing his school bag down and taking a seat. 
The rest of your group sat down as well, the elves had made different variations of chicken wraps for lunch today. You picked up a grilled chicken wrap and began eating it, famished after your hour of revision during your free period. You had just finished the first one when Draco said your name.
“You’ve got sauce on your mouth, darling”
You stuck your tongue out trying to lick it off but you kept missing. 
“Hold still a sec” Draco instructed. He used his thumb to wipe the spot of sauce from your mouth, licking it off his thumb once he was done. 
“Ah my saviour!” you fake swooned. 
He laughed and continued to eat his lunch. You wolfed another half of a wrap before feeling full. 
“Are we still revising for charms after dinner?” Daphne asked, looking up from her homework. 
“I’m on it, but the boys have quidditch practise until 7, so they’ll have to join in later” You replied, snapping the lid of your lip balm back on
“Actually, practice is cancelled, so Blaise and I’ll be there” Draco added, downing the rest of his pumpkin juice.
“Y/N, you alright?” 
Your head whipped around to see Neville Longbottom standing behind you.
“Are you lo-” Draco began to sneer
You pinched the outside of his thigh making him grit his teeth instead of finishing his sentence. “Neville, hi”
“I just wanted to return your charms notes, they were dead useful, thanks,” He said with a light blush, holding your pile of notes out.
“Oh, thank you. I’m so glad you found them helpful” You took the notes from him with a smile. 
“Have a nice rest of the afternoon,”
“You too Neville,”
He returned to his friends and your friends turned onto you.
“Why are you so nice to him?” Blaise demanded.
“Oh merlin, when are you guys going to get over this rivalry, he needed help, so I helped him.”
“He’s also Longbottom”
You rolled your eyes. “Anyways, does anyone want to let me copy the last two questions for the dada homework?”
Daphne slid her roll of parchment over to you and you quickly scribbled the answers. Just as you had screwed on the cap for your ink lid, the bell for your next lesson rang. Nowadays your lessons were less structured, it was two months before exam season which meant the teachers pushed to revise topics rather than introducing new ones. Some teachers preferred to let you get on in groups doing your own thing, others had a strict revision lesson planned. But one thing was for certain exams had definitely taken over your life.
After your charms revision session with your friends, you and Draco found yourselves walking up to the astronomy tower. The sun was beginning to set as you nestled yourself into his lap.
“Don’t you think it’s mad that in a couple of years we won’t be able to do this anymore?” You asked, tightening his arms around you.
“We can watch the sunset from anywhere love”
“Ha ha you know what I mean idiot”
“I’m ready to leave this place”
“Sorry Mr ‘I should have been in Durmstrang’”
“I should have, my father agreed more with their curriculum”
“Maybe cause his old death eater buddy was running it”
“He’s your father's old death eater buddy too”
“My father never thought about sending me to Durmstrang”
“That’s because it’s a boys-only school, love”
“I don’t like you”
“That’s because you love me,”
“Speaking of love, do you remember the first moment you realised you loved me?”
He paused “As a matter of fact I do”
“Do tell, Mr Malfoy”
“We were at that party at the Parkinson’s in our 3rd year. You had a silver dress on. Your mum forced you into these heels and you hated them. You wobbled over to me and clung to my arm the whole night. But as soon as we were shooed away from the adults, you took them off and practically shoved them into my hands and started walking around barefoot. Pansy’s grandmother came out of the parlour and saw you without your shoes on and went berserk, she called you a disgrace, all our mothers came out to see what was going on and I’m pretty sure your mum looked like she was going to kill you”
“I remember that! Then I transfigured her ostrich feather boa into a snake around her neck!”
“She nearly pissed her pants” He laughed, causing you to smile.
“So is that your favourite memory of us?”
“No, my favourite memory takes place in our 4th year at the Yule ball. I didn’t want to dance in front of all those idiots but you pulled me up there anyway. But as soon as you held my hand it was like they all disappeared and it was just me and you. I spun you out and when you spun back into my arms, I dipped you and you looked so beautiful. But that is fighting for the top spot from the time you sucked me off in the restricted section, and the time you floo’ed into my room last summer at 2 am and I absolutely ruined you”
“Okay okay I get the picture your favourite memories are when we have sex”
“Not all of them, just some, what’s yours?”
“5th year, Christmas break, your parents’ Christmas party, you hid my promise ring inside my dessert” you held your hand up letting your ring sparkle in the candlelight, it was simple, a small princess cut emerald on a gold band, but it was oh so precious “You kept staring at me and I was so confused, I wasn’t even looking at what I was eating until you jerked my hand back and told me to look in the spoon and there it was. You cleaned it off and slid it on my finger right in front of everyone. Or maybe it was the time you made me sit on your face when we snuck into a room at the leaky cauldron”
Draco laughed and lifted your hand up and played with the ring. “After we finish Hogwarts, I’m gonna replace this ring with a diamond one”
“You are?” 
“Why do you sound so surprised, I told you already I was going to change your last name to mine, even your parents know”
“I know but I didn’t know you wanted to do this so early"
“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”
“You are so whipped”
Draco shoved you off him playfully.
“But it’s okay because I’m equally as whipped” you replied sitting back in his lap.
“You’d better be, otherwise I’d-”
“You’d what? Tell your father?”
“Right, that’s it” His fingers found your sides as he began tickling you. By the time he felt as though he tortured you enough, you were both breathless. 
“I love you," He said, smoothing your shirt down.
“I love you more”
“Who’s up here?” Filch’s voice grumbled. 
You and Draco grinned at each other as you quickly threw your robes on and lifted the hoods, running straight past Filch and into the Slytherin common room. 
You had now learnt what Draco’s favourite memory of you was. All that was left was actually getting around to paint it. If you weren’t in a lesson, you were revising, usually most of the time with Draco. Even on weekends, you found yourself in in the library completing practise exam papers and testing yourself on flashcards. And any time you weren’t working, you and Draco used as an opportunity to spend time with one another without being bogged down with work. You’d already decided that the room of requirement would be the perfect place to start painting, but the issue was figuring out how you’d be able to sneak there and back without arousing suspicion. 
After much deliberation, you decided that your best option for sneaking out was on Tuesday and Wednesday nights. Every Tuesday after dinner, Draco and Blaise would go out to the quidditch pitch to blow off some steam, by the time he had finished and showered, you were almost always already in bed. On Wednesday, you decided you’d tell Draco a little white lie and say that Flitwick had asked you to tutor a struggling 5th year in Charms, it would give you a few hours to yourself to get ahead with painting. 
The upcoming Tuesday your plan was in action, you made Daphne swear she wouldn’t tell Draco where you were and you made your way to the room of requirement. It was honestly a Godsend. You stepped into a room full of different sized canvasses, there were tubes of oil paint and palettes of watercolours and squeezy bottles of acrylic. A table was full of paintbrushes of different sizes and shapes and there were an easel and chair right in the middle of the room. 
You picked out a large rectangular canvas and placed it landscape on the easel and got to sketching the outline of your painting. If all went to plan, it would be a loop of Draco’s favourite memory of the two of you at the ball, if it didn’t well, then it would be a still image and if everything went south, you’d have to somehow find a way to get some lingerie to distract him from your lack of presents. 
Painting the canvas was going to be the hard part, sketching the outline, however, was proving to be a huge nightmare already, you had drawn and redrawn Draco’s face about a hundred times, not being able to get it exactly right. You were about to kick a hole in your canvas when a small a5 picture caught your eye, stuck under the foot of the easel. You picked it up to see a photograph of the exact moment you were trying to recreate. This was why you loved this room, taking a deep breath, you redrew Draco’s face finally getting it as you liked it. By the time you had finished the full outline, it was almost two am, you knew you were going to struggle to wake up in the morning, but that was something for future you to deal with, present you had to find a way to sneak out of the room and back to your dormitory without detection. 
In order to make as little noise as possible, you took your shoes off and ran across the castle in just your socks, you were only a few steps away from the entrance to the common room before Mrs Norris came around the corner. She meowed loudly as you whisper-shouted the password, the corridor revealing itself. You ran down it and straight up the stairs into your dormitory. You tried to get into bed as quietly as possible before falling asleep. 
In hindsight, staying up sketching until 2 am was a horrible idea. It was only 1 in the afternoon and you were struggling to stay awake. 
“I don’t get why you don’t just pay someone to paint it for you,” Daphne asked, scrunching a piece of paper into a ball and throwing it in the bin beside you.
“Because then there's no sentimental value behind it” You replied, massaging your temples.
“What time did you fall asleep anyway?”
“By the time I drowned out Pansy’s snoring it was 3, I was just lucky I had a free period first so I ended up getting an hours extra sleep”
“Merlin, remind me to never fall in love”
You laughed before rubbing your eyes and returning to your work. 
It took you four weeks of staying up till 2 am to finish Draco’s painting. You had spent hours mixing the right shades of paint, at one point you ended up getting rid of the paint on the whole canvas and starting again but exactly three weeks before Draco’s birthday, you had mastered the spell to make your painted figures move and your masterpiece was complete. Your only worry was that Narcissa Malfoy would hate it and would stop her son from hanging it in his bedroom. 
In order to get the huge canvas from the room of requirement back to your dormitory, you had to ask Neville to ask Harry if you could borrow his invisibility cloak. If Draco had found out that you got Harry’s help you were 90% sure he’d be the one kicking a hole in your canvas. For now, the canvas was safely tucked under your bed. 
The next morning, you stuffed Harry’s cloak in your bag and made your way down to meet him. You had agreed the previous evening that you’d meet outside Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom before breakfast to make the exchange. As planned, he was stood with Neville right outside the entrance to the toilet. You pulled the cloak out and handed it back to Harry. 
“Thank you, I know you and Draco don’t like each other, but it means a lot that you'd go out on a limb to help me.”
“While I question your choice in men, Y/L/N, you’ve helped Neville out on more than one occasion and any friend of Neville’s is a friend of mine.”
You smiled at Harry, “I’m gonna head to breakfast before Draco gets suspicious, see you boys, later”
They waved goodbye as you made your way back to breakfast, stopping in the normal girl's toilet to sort your shirt out which you found you were wearing inside out. Your group of friends were already sat down eating, all but Draco.
“Where is he?” You asked.
“Couple third years said they had to tell him something in private, oh wait, speak of the devil” 
You turned and he did not look happy. His jaw was clenched and he was walking oddly fast, he came to you and gripped you firmly by the arm. “Can I speak to you, outside, Y/N”
You looked at him confused but followed him out. As soon as you were out of earshot from the hall he turned around to face you, he looked pissed, he kept walking forward until you were pinned between him and the wall. 
“You want to tell me why some friends in 3rd year saw you giving Potter his invisibility cloak back?”
“What?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, darling, we both know you’re not. ‘it looked like she was holding something but there wasn't anything in her hand’. Why did you have his cloak”
“I was planning on recreating that memory of yours in the restricted section for your birthday, I asked Neville if I could borrow Harry’s cloak to get us there and back but then I remembered you wouldn’t have come if we were using his cloak so I gave it back” You lied smoothly 
He swallowed and nodded, not moving back. You pushed him off and scoffed. 
“Is this what you’re doing now? Sending third years to follow me?”
“You of all people should know I have eyes and ears everywhere.”
“Those eyes and ears shouldn't be snooping on your girlfriend”
“They wouldn’t have to if you weren’t lying to me about where you were for the past month.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Helping a 5th year with Charms as per the request of Flitwick? Well not according to the professor himself”
“Dra-”
He laughed, “Can’t even cover up your lies properly. Why don't I give you a few hours to come up with a cover story, I can’t bear the sight of you right now” Draco turned and walked away, ignoring you as you called out for him. 
He acted as though you didn’t exist for all of your lessons, he didn't sit next to you, he didn't speak to you, he barely looked at you. You chose to have dinner alone in your room that night. It had occurred to you during your second period that Draco thought you were cheating on him with Harry. It made sense, you were sneaking around and you were seen giving Harry’s cloak back as if to say that you two had been meeting up in secret under it. But it also made absolutely no sense either, you and Draco had been together since the beginning of your 3rd year. Your father was a death eater for Pete’s sake, it didn’t take a genius to realise you’d be disowned if you brought home Harry fucking Potter. 
You were partway through your transfiguration homework when Daphne came bounding up into the dormitory.
“Right, what is going on with you and Draco?” She asked, throwing her bag on the floor and collapsing on her bed.
“Nothing,” You lied.
“See that is absolute bullshit because he has been a moody prick all day and you skipped dinner, so come out with it, spill”
You sighed and explained everything. 
“Why don’t you just tell him the truth then?”
“Because if I do, it’ll ruin the surprise”
“And if you don’t it’ll end your relationship, my mother is over the moon at the fact that I’ll be a bridesmaid at a Malfoy wedding, you don’t want to crush her dreams do you?”
“You’re right, do you know where he is?”
“He went straight into his dormitory”
You nodded and made your way there. He was joined by his friends.
“Rest of you out, thanks,” You said, walking in and standing in the middle of the room. 
Blaise looked at Draco and he nodded, prompting him, Theodore and Goyle to leave. He refused to look at you. You took a seat at the end of his bed and began to explain.
“I’m well aware you think I’m cheating on you with Potter, but that’s really the complete opposite of what’s happening. The truth is, for the past few weeks, I’ve been arranging your birthday present. I finished it last night and I asked for Harry’s cloak so I could bring it back to my dormitory without revealing the surprise. That’s where I’ve been sneaking off to. Not to go snog Potter under his invisibility cloak”
“Oh”
“Bet you feel really fucking stupid now don’t you,” You scoffed
“I’m sorry, darling,”
“Do you not think? Could you imagine my parents’ reaction if I brought home Potter? They’d disown me faster than you came the first time we-”
He grabbed you into a hug before you could finish your sentence.
“I am truly sorry, princess, for jumping to conclusions and for ruining my surprise.”
“Well, you haven’t totally ruined it, you don’t know what it is yet.”
“Can we come back in yet, I need to get out of this fucking uniform” Theodore shouted from the bottom of the stairs.
Draco shouted back a yeah and his friends returned. 
“See you two’ve kissed and made up, about time too, Draco’s a right git when he's moody”
Draco threw a pair of balled-up socks at Blaise’s head before you got up off the bed.
“I’ll meet you in the common room once I’ve finished my homework,” You told him before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He mumbled an okay before kissing you once more and you were on your way. 
The next morning, at breakfast, you noticed your father’s owl descend onto the table in front of you. You took the letter expecting him to fly off and return home but he waited expectantly, clearly, he was told to wait until you replied. He hopped up onto your arms as you took him to the owlery to recuperate while you read your letter and replied. 
Y/N, 
You’re hopefully aware that it is Draco’s birthday in a few weeks, I hope that you have got him an adequate gift. You know how important your 17th birthday is and as I remember, Draco spoilt you with 17 gifts. Since you are a young lady, you're not expected to gift him anything as lavish as some of the presents he gave you, but tradition dictates that you should get him something worthy of a pureblood wizard, in particular jewels. Please reply as soon as possible, only so I know that you won’t embarrass your father and I (and in the case you do, I can send you an alternative). Your brothers and your father send their regards. We miss you. 
Mother
You rolled your eyes at her need for keeping up appearances and quickly scribbled her back a reply. You wished you were at home to see her reaction to you gifting him a painting you painted yourself. Once your father’s owl had filled himself up with water and owl feed, you attached the letter to him and sent him on his way. 
Later in the evening, your mother’s owl pecked at you through the library window. You went out into the corridor and took a letter and a box off of her. Once you had freed her of her cargo, she hooted and flew off. You opened the second letter and read.
Sweetheart, I know that you are an accomplished young artist, but a painting will simply not do, especially for his 17th birthday. However, since I am your mother and I know you best, I had a feeling I would need to help you in this department. I took the liberty of going into Bourgin and Burke’s on the weekend and purchased a rare black diamond ring for Draco on your behalf. I think he will like it and I think you will too. I hope you are studying well for your exams, 
Mother
You tried to rip open the wrapping on the box but it wouldn't move. The fold at the bottom lifted itself up a bit and ran across your finger, giving you a papercut. A thin line of blood collected on its edge and the wrapping dissolved leaving you with a red ring box, she was always partial to a bit of blood magic. You lifted the lid to see a thick silver band, it looked like it was either white gold or platinum, your mother thought sterling silver was too cheap, the oval cut diamond set atop a larger oval of platinum. It wasn't too plain but it also wasn’t overly gaudy, just as Draco liked it. You returned to the library with your second gift, making a note to hide it under your bed with your painting.
The next few weeks went past in a blur of mock exams and constant revision. Your first exam wasn’t until the 10th of June, giving you plenty of time to celebrate Draco’s birthday properly. The night before his birthday, half of Slytherin house was gathered in the common room waiting for it to hit midnight. You asked the elves to bake a cake for him and smuggled it with some snacks to have a small party with your friends. 
At 11.59 you pulled a tie out from behind you and held it up.
“Gonna let me tie you up huh?” Draco asked with a smirk. 
“Nice try, Malfoy, but this is for you” You replied getting up and tying it around his eyes. 
“What are you doing, Y/L/N?” 
You pointed your wand at the wall causing birthday banners and streamers to hang. Blaise brought the cake in from the 1st year dormitory. The large grandfather clock donged deeply as it hit midnight, you pulled his blindfold down as the whole common room burst into a rendition of happy birthday. He laughed and put his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. Nott finished the song on a horrible high note as Draco blew his candles out. 
“Make a wish, Draco” Pansy shouted. 
“I don’t need to, I've got everything I could wish for right next to me.”
You smiled up at him and gave him a kiss before addressing the crowd. “Eat my friends,” You felt like Dumbledore as plates of food dotted themselves around the common room. The attention moved from Draco to the food as everyone got up and attacked. 
“Happy birthday, my love,” You said wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Thank you, princess, I wasn’t expecting this at all.”
“Only the best for my boyfriend”
You spent the next few hours playing truth or dare with your housemates, it was cut short when Snape barged into the common room, the decorations were ripped off the wall and the music from the radio stopped. 
“I am going to give you until the count of 10 to return to your dormitory, anyone I still see standing here will be spending every weekend for the rest of the year cleaning with filch”
He began to count down from 10 as everyone scrambled to run into their dorms and get into bed. 
You were so excited to surprise Draco with his presents that you skipped breakfast, instructing Daphne to tell him to meet you in the astronomy tower. You decided you were going to decorate your spot a little bit, you set up a soft blanket and some cupcakes and hung up the leftover banners and streamers from your midnight party in the common room. You had his gifts wrapped up with ribbon and some bows just to be extra, they sat in the centre of your blanket, the canvas taking up a large chunk of it. You had realised Draco would probably struggle to take the canvas back home, but that would be a problem he would have to deal with later.
 “Y/N?” His voice called out from the bottom of the stairs. 
“Up here, love” You replied, your head popping up over the bannister. 
He broke into a smile when he saw you and rushed up the stairs taking them two at a time. You sat on the edge of the blanket and waited for him.
“Happy 17th birthday, Draco” You exclaimed as he reached the top. 
His smile got even wider as he pulled you up and into a tight hug. 
“I am so in love with you, do you know that?” he mumbled into your neck.
“I hope you feel the same after you see your presents,”
“Darling, you know you didn’t have to get me anything, you’re the best gift I could have ever received”
“I didn’t have to but I wanted to, here look” 
His eyes fell onto the two wrapped gifts, he sat himself down and opened the top present. 
“How did you get your hands on this?” he pulled the ring out and examined it closely.
“RIght so backstory to this, my mum didn’t believe that my original present was traditional enough to be a ‘wizard’s 17th birthday present’ so she went out to Bourgin and Burke and got this, but I wouldn’t have given it to you had I thought you wouldn't like it, so think of this as a gift from your in-laws.”
“My father’ll be jealous, he's been wanting a black diamond in his collection for ages now” He put the ring back in the box and was about to shut it.
“Wait, let me put it on. you put my ring on, so I’ll put yours on, practise for the big day”
He smiled at you as you sat down next to him and pulled the ring back out of the box. He held his left hand out for you and you slid the ring onto his ring finger.  
“You know after this, they tend to kiss” He grinned. 
“Oh yes, of course, if we’re going to practise we should be thorough” You pulled his head down and his lips met yours for a passionate kiss. 
He pulled back after a few moments with a grin. 
“We should keep practising, just to be on the safe side”
“Enough flirting, Malfoy you have another gift to open”
He turned and picked up the canvas in his hands.
“Is this the one you were sneaking away for?”
You nodded and he began to tear off the wrapping. He got up and placed it against the wall and stood there looking at it, silently. He was silent for a while as he watched the loop of Draco spinning you out and then dipping you on your return with a kiss. Although he hadn't said anything, you got the feeling that he didn't particularly like this gift. He was probably thinking of a way to let you down easily.
“Do you not like it?” You asked quietly.
“What? No!” he turned around with a genuine smile. “I love it, darling, it's perfect. Honestly, it's beautiful.”
You physically relaxed and went to stand next to him. “You said you didn’t like the painting in your room above the fire so I thought I’d give you something to change it with, I’m just not sure if your mother would like it, since its not one of those classical masterpieces.”
“I don’t care what my mother thinks, as soon as I get home, I’m hanging this right up on my wall. I just never knew you could paint like this”
“My mum made me start painting when I was three, I stopped lessons as soon as I started Hogwarts but I kept it up on the side as a hobby and, well, I thought I’d immortalise your favourite memory of us.”
“You never cease to amaze me” He turned and pulled you into him “Thank you,”
“Don’t be silly it’s your birthday, stupid”
“Not just for this, for everything. For putting up with everything, the jealousy, the anger, the-”
“Hey, I’m not putting up with anything, I love you, Draco, all of you”
“Merlin, I can’t wait to marry you” His lips crashed into yours for a frenzied kiss, overwhelmed with emotion. “This is by far the best birthday I’ve ever had, nothing will be able to top this”
And he wasn’t lying. Whenever he was asked, by his kids, his grandkids even his great-grandkids, what his favourite birthday celebration was, his response was always the same, his 17th birthday.
234 notes · View notes
aleksadnezz · 3 years
Text
Sweet Night 5
Jae x Reader
“I’m sorry.” I said while still damping the tissue on his wet hoodie.
“It’s okay. What were you saying again?” He took the tissue from me and he do it on his own.
“Oh I was just gonna ask if you are?” I raised my lanyard to show the keychain to him. His small eyes widen when he saw it.
“How did you now?” He asked. So it’s true??? OMG!!!! My lips formed a big smile. I can’t believe, I’m going to tell it to Ara she would be excited.
“I saw your stuff animals’ collection.” I said cheerfully and pointed his shelves.
He looked at It and returned his eyes on me. He still looked confused so I tried to explain what I mean.
“I actually have a friend, she gave me this and she told me it’s a merch from a kpop group, you have the same so I assumed that you are..” He looked at me waiting me to continue speaking. I can clearly see the nervousness from his eyes. He might think that I’ll tell to other people what I know.
“You are a fan too.”
“Please don’t tell it to other people-“
We spoke at the same time but I heard what he said. He softly laughed and scratched the back of his nape.
“Yeah.. that’s right.. I’m a fan too.” He shyly said.
“Don’t worry I won’t say it.” I said, now I’m hesitating if I’m gonna share this to Ara. I bet she would be happy if I told her that I have a fanboy friend. It’s still weird for me to have a neighbor that is my friend too because I’m not that friendly. What in a bigbang theory is this, except that we’re both introverts and he don’t have a Sheldon.
“Uh have you seen or heard anything about that group?” He suddenly asked. I shook my head.
“Nah. I only know that they’re one of the kpop groups.” I said. I heard him laughed so I looked at him. “Why?”did I said something wrong?
“Nothing. I think they’re more of a kband than a kpop but that’s okay.” He explained. I know nothing about any of that but I like bands for sure I would like them. I almost forgot about the group that Ara said to me earlier, I’ll try to listen to them maybe I would like them too, the thing is I forgot their group name, I’ll just ask Jae if he knows it.
“By the way you know a kpop group that has kids in their name?”
“Stray Kids?”
“Yeah! that’s right, Stray Kids.”
“You like them?”
“Not really I’ll just start listening to them actually.” He nodded. “My friend will bring me to their concert so..”
“Really? That’s awesome.”
“You can come too. I will tell to my friend.” I suggest. Since he’s a fan too might as well invite him to their concert. “Have you attended a concert before? Because I haven’t” I laughed.
“Yeah I’ve been into some concerts, I perform there.” He said the last words under his breath so I didn’t hear it clearly.
“Ha?” I asked but he only shook his head and smiled at me.
“I’ll try to join you with your friend in the concert.”
“Cool!! I’d let you know..” I said. I wonder if he has other socials, but I still don’t know how his name spelled so it’s hard to find him. “Anyway, I think my job here is done so I’m now gonna head out. I have to feed the cat.”
We walked over his opened door. Before I turn and bid him goodbye he spoke.
“How’s Minnie by the way. I haven’t seen her.” He said. Of course you haven’t, you didn’t leave your room for a week.
“She eats a lot and whines a lot. So if you heard her in the middle of the night please don’t knock on my door.” He let out a smiley laugh where I can see his pearly white teeth and the disappearance of his eyes.
“It’s a cute cat. I won’t get mad.” He assures.
“I’ll keep that in my mind.” I raised my finger and pointed my head. I glance at his stretched lips, and that smile. what? I didn’t say that.
Today is Friday and I got off from work extra early. When this happens usually Ara and I would go to mall to window shop or I just accompany her but today she told me that she has something to go to. Also, I didn’t tell Ara about Jae yet, maybe soon if he agrees to come with us to the concert.
I went straight home after my shift so I can go to market. Minnie is running out of cat food supply and I’m running out of food too. I also want to have a chill night where I’d lay on my bed while I watch sum movies. I quickly changed my polo into a shirt and sweats. I wore the glasses that I only wear when I use my computer or phone. I went in front of my mirror to check myself. I stared at my reflection for a long time trying to examine what seems weird. Was it my face? I don’t have dirt on my face and I don’t look tired either. It’s the clothes. I look like Jae. Sweats and glasses, I look comfy as heck.
I don’t want to spend time just to change so I’ll just ignore that I accidentally dressed up as my neighbor, as if that I would bump into him today, I barely see that guy. I carry my tote bag with my phone and wallet in it, and I wore my slides. I left my apartment and locked it.
“You’re going out too?”
I jolted when I heard a voice. Speaking of my neighbor, in fact I don’t even have to turn around just to know who it is. Still, I turned around to face him.
“Yeah, just grocery and you?” Thank g he’s wearing a black hoodie while mine’s gray.
“I need to pick up something.” He said while he’s locking his door.
“Where do you grocery shop?” He asked. I waited him so we can walk together.
“Emart.”
“My way is also there; do you want a ride? I already booked a grab.” He showed me his phone with the said grab. I mean free ride? Of course I do.
“Sure.” The lift opens so we enter. From 15 floor going to ground floor is a long ride so I made myself busy by observing every single thing that I see here inside the lift. When we entered there are already sum people inside, 2 guys and a couple who can’t keep their hands off each other. Not that I’m judging them, but from what I can see, what they’re doing considered PDA already. Hugging, laughing and teasing like there’s no tomorrow.
I don’t know if those guys are annoyed too and just trying to ignore them or maybe it’s just only me. I glanced to Jae to see what he’s doing, looks like he’s not bothered at all. His left hand slipped inside the pocket of his pants; other hand is on his phone.
Another person entered the lift. I moved backwards so she can have space. The couple moves backwards too so they’re now standing beside me, I can even feel her bag nudging my arm but I tried to ignore it. Within a hot minute her arm hit my side causing me to bumped Jae. I looked at the couple as calm as I can possibly can.
“I’m sorry miss.” “sorry miss.” They both said in union.
“It’s okay.” I said calmy and showed my nicest smile. I want my afternoon to be chill and stress free plus I may see them again I want to protect my pure reputation as a good neighbor. Suddenly I felt a hand on my elbow that slowly pulled me closer to him. I felt an electric shock that send shivers all over my body. I stood frozen next to him because of how close we are. I can even smell his perfume, it’s like a mixture of fresh fruity and baby powder. I wonder where he bought it.
He let go of my arm when we reached the ground floor. We walked towards the entrance of the building but I stayed walking behind him. He looked back at me and stopped walking so I can catch up with him. When we got out the building, we can see that there’s a car already waiting. Jae made me get on first and I thought that he would sit beside the driver but he sat next to me.
It’s rush hour already and we we’re caught by traffic. I stared outside the car window like I always do when I commute. There’s time where I’m channeling my main character vibes when I look outside the window. None of us is taking and the sound from the cardio radio playing sum R&B soul songs was the only noise. Jae was busy scrolling through his phone, though I don’t want to bother him but I feel like I should speak.
“So where are you heading to?” I blurted out. I tried not to look at him directly so I stared at the driver’s seat.
“Somewhere near the TBD Company”
“Isn’t that where most celebrity’s hangout or sumthin?” I’ve never been into that area and I know that, that place is one of the richest districts.
“Well not all because I go there all the time.” He said before he turned off his phone and looked at me.
“Have you ever bumped to a celebrity?” I asked. For sure he had at least once, especially when he said that he have been there a lot.
“Just some of them. I’ve always seen Mark Tuan in a coffee shop that I go to, you know him?” Is he kidding? I think he’s the only famous person that I could remember that Ara ever told me. She showed me a video clip of him dancing and I think I forgot to breathe for a sec, plus he got the cutest smile. I must admit that prolly have a thing for people’s smile.
“You mean the very good-looking guy?” I said in awe and he laughed at my reaction. Well, I only said what know is true.
“Yeah, that very good-looking guy.” He said casually as if that he knows him but he’s still laughing. Wait if he seen some celeb then he might have seen his Kpop Idols.
“How about your favorite Kband? Day6?” I’m honestly just guessing, but I believe most of the company’s are located there so assume that they work there. Instead of answering me he let out a fake cough.
I immediately understood what he’s trying to say so I leaned to him and whispered. “Okay I won’t mention in public that you’re a Kpop fan.”I assure him. I find it funny that he’s getting conscious and shy about other people knowing that he’s a fanboy.
“No actually.. yeah alright, I’ll just take that.” Yeah, whatever Jae. I looked outside and saw that we’re almost near the market, I turned to Jae and poked him.
“You can drop me off here.” He nodded.
“Mr. can you pull over to the next street.” Jae said.
“Thank you for the ride Jae.”
“No worries, what time you will be done?”
“I don’t know I may take a while.” I may take a while since I don’t have a grocery list so I’ll prolly have to go to every aisle to remember all the stuff that I needed, a life hack that I learned when I started living on my own.
The driver pulled the car off the road. I turned to Jae before I opened the door.
“Thank you again.” I said and he smiled. I opened the door and got off the car. I waited for them to leave before I enter the market.
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sunaswife · 4 years
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A Suna Rintarou series
Summary: Suna was the best boyfriend you could ask for, after fighting with your inner demons that screamed you were ugly, worthless, and annoying. You finally decided to go the next step with your boyfriend, only to find out it was all a game.
A/N: PART 17 AND FULL OF SMUT 😌🥵
Warnings: underaged drinking, smut, guys talking badly about women, heartbreak, messed up shit that you shouldn’t do and a bit of fluff if you squint
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Disc nine-slide one: Suna Rintarou 🖤
“You look so pretty underneath me, princess.” Suna said lowly as you gripped your white bedsheets. You bit your lip in anticipation as you waited for your boyfriend to stuff you with his cock. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He said a little louder and lifted your chin with his free hand so you can look into his eyes. They were a shade darker and you could see the lust and desire in his eyes. “R-rin you already made me cum twice. If you keep at it I-I’ll be too tired to have your d-dick in me.”
He sucked in a breath at your dirty words. It was taking everything in him to not shove his cock into your virgin cunt and use you like his own fleshlight. He can already hear your moans. “I’m prepping you. I need you nice and wet. I don’t want you to feel any pain. Only pleasure.” He said and you nodded slowly. His thumb swirled on your clit and you whimpered. “Please Rin, I’m ready. I know I’m ready. Please let me just feel your cock already.” You pleaded and he let out a deep groan.
“For someone who’s never done this before you sure are everyone’s dream girl. Small, innocent, submissive, and a little bratty.” He smirked and your cheeks tinted. “Do you want me to take off my pants or—“ “Let me do it...please.” You asked with your big glossy eyes.
Who was he to say no to you?
He removed himself from over your body and you quickly sat up. Your necklace was shining in the moonlight. Only a few hours ago he gave it to you after the twins left. It had the English letter R for his first name and he helped you put it on. He noticed the small shiver you let out when his fingers grazed over your collarbones and neck. The look in your eyes said you were horny and with a little bit of a push, you told him you were ready.
But sadly he didn’t have condoms. And you weren’t on birth control.
So he quickly threw on his jacket and scarf. He almost tripped putting on his shoes and he ran to the closest convenience store to purchase some condoms. The college girl working rolled her eyes at Suna’s panting form. His lungs were burning by how cold it was outside and all for a box of condoms. After he paid he didn’t even get his change and he ran back to your house as quick as his long legs could take him.
He quickly unlocked your door with your keys and he entered the warm home. He smiled slightly and fantasized about how in a few years time you both would have a home like this. With your own rugrats running around. Even though he can’t stand them, he’d ring up the twins and ask them to babysit so he can have some alone time with you. When he finished taking off his his shoes and other winter clothes he wore, he practically ran up the stairs and opened the door in your room to see you sitting in the middle of your bed in just your underwear and his Volleyball Jersey.
He quirked up an eyebrow. Since when did you take his jersey? But then he remembered that you came over the week prior and probably took it without him noticing since the team didn’t have any games lately due to the snowy weather. “I-I thought you might like it..” you said quietly as you fiddled with the hem of the shirt.
“I don’t like it.” He deadpanned and you looked away embarrassed.
“I love it.”
He breathed out and your ears barley caught it. When you turned to look up, the door was already slammed shut and his lips were on yours. He first asked for desert and ate you out and regretted not asking you to allow him to do this a while back.
You tasted so sweet.
It was intoxicating.
You tugged his hair and subconsciously pushed his face even closer to your sex as you came. He could still hear the continued prayer of his name dripping off your tongue. He then hovered over you and began kissing your lips once more. He wanted you to taste yourself on his tongue. His sinful words made your thighs clench together but he sneaked his hand in between and began using his fingers to prep you for his dick.
And now here you were, being such a good girl for him. Making you cum twice was worth it because you finally had a taste of this world and the way you acted after, so desperate and touch starved made his dick even harder. You began unbuckling his belt and the buttons of his jeans and he quickly kicked them off his legs.
He heard you gulp as your gaze focused on the large bulge behind his boxers. Your legs clenched together again and he couldn’t stop his stupid smirk. “What? Is my princess so mesmerized by my dick she forgot it’s hers?” He asked and you looked up at him once more.
“Mine? As in...I can do whatever I want, right?” You asked and he gave you the nod of consent. Your slightly shakey hands touched his abs with a small amount of pressure to push his back down against the bed and they lowered to the waistband of his boxers. Without wasting any time you pulled them down and you gasped at the sight of your boyfriends cock.
“How the fuck is that going to fit in me?” You asked and he chuckled. “That’s why I prepped you baby.” He said softly and grabbed your hand. You let him guide you to his hard on that pressed against his stomach and you couldn’t believe this is what you made Rin feel. He sighed and you saw him close his eyes when your hands gripped his cock as you moved your hand up and down. Your thumb grazed over his pink slit on the tip and he hissed. His eyes didn’t open as he was enjoying this hand job. You carefully moved back a bit and bent down to the eye level of his shaft.
You wanted to repay him for how he made you feel earlier so you kitten licked his tip and he gasped and immediately gripped your hair. “Princess..are you seriously going to give me a blowjob? The hand job is enough.” He said and looked down. You did look hot with your ass in the air, his fingers tangled in your locks with your glossy eyes looking up. Instead of answering, you gave him a small smirk and opened your mouth to take him all in while maintaining eye contact and he wanted to cum then and there.
“Fuck—princess. You’re gonna be the death of me.” He said and you giggled on his dick, sending vibrations. You obviously weren’t perfect since it was your first time and he used his hand to guide you up and down and your ears perked up when he came closer and closer to his high. He let out a loud groan as he came in your mouth. You cleaned him good so he wouldn’t dirty his Jersey with warm cum.
“You’re such a good girl. You know that right?” He said as his chest heaved up and down. “Only for you.” You smiled sweetly and kissed the side of his jaw, your lips moved to his neck and you felt him harden again in your hand when you gave him a love bite. “Can you go inside me already? I think I waited long enough. I’m dripping everywhere.” You said in his ear and before you knew it, you were pinned down. His fingers laced with yours as he slowly entered his dick into your dripping cunt.
“Princess, you’re so tight.” He sighed and looked up to see you in tears. “Baby whats the matter?” He said worried and he stopped “D-don’t stop. I’m just really excited and nervous so I’m crying. Keep going, please.” You begged and he nodded and continued the slow torture. You lifted your legs and you wrapped them around Rin’s lower waist and you used your feet to pull Rin closer. You thought he was already all the way in because of how full you felt but you didn’t and you practically shoved him inside your virgin hole and there was a sting of when he ripped your hymen.
You both gasped as you held on to his biceps and he gripped the sheets beneath you. He was finally all the way in. He asked if you were alright and you nodded and quietly asked for him to start moving. He gave you a soft kiss over your tear and he rolled his hips slowly so you could get a feel.
Your sounds of tiny gasps, moans and squeaks encouraged him to quicken his pace. You were a moaning mess below him and he was in awe. His Jersey was long gone as well as the shirt he was wearing. The golden R rested between your beautiful breasts and he was on cloud 9. How can someone look so innocent yet so dirty at the same time? His head lowered and he whispered praises in your ear of how well you were taking him and how proud he was if you. He kept repeating how beautiful you looked. He kissed the side of your neck and licked your collarbone. His teeth bit the chain and he lightly tugged causing you to open your eyes to meet his predatory gaze.
“Fuck princess you’re so fucking gorgeous.” He whispered as he drank up your messy appearance. He felt himself get close so his thumb immediately went to your clit. Your voiced raised a good two octaves as you repeated his name over and over. You were being too loud to his liking so he removed his thumb and you pouted and gave him a glare. He stopped moving and pulled out. He snorted at your face. “Don’t look at me like that, pet. Just give me a sec.” He said and you almost choked.
Pet?!
He gave you another sexy smirk and moved your left leg over his shoulder. Your pussy clenched over nothing and he was so amused. His tip played with your entrance and before you could whine he pushed all the way in again causing him to literally take your breath away.
He saw the way your mouth opened and nothing came out.
He found your g spot.
He continued to reach that spot over and over again causing your legs to shake and without any warning you clenched around his length and you both simultaneously came at the same time.
You held on to his back, you definitely left scratch marks and bruises on his biceps. You both took a moment to catch your breaths and after a good two minutes he slowly pulled away and immediately fell beside you. He rested his head on your bare chest since it was second nature and you both pillow talked and he asked how your first experience felt. You answered honestly about how much you loved it and not long after you both fell asleep.
Leaving the unopened box of condoms forgotten under your bed.
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Previously
Up next
Masterlist
A/N: First time ever doing smut so if it’s shit don’t @ me like that one bitch lol
A/N pt. 2 I posted a teaser/spoiler of the sequel here in case you wanna see it 👉🏽 🖤
these are some questions I answered regarding it. It’s a lot of information regarding Y/N during and after the timeskip and it’ll make more sense when I finally release the sequel 👉🏽🤍
🏷: @therealwalmartjesus @differentballooncollection @aaesuki @atsunflower @dope-squish @prettysetterboiss @june-phantom @tomo-uwu @austriasmariazelle @xrnia @katsulia @aprettyfruit @shut-your-eyes-kiss-me-goodbye @tvbiio @sun-daddy-yoriichi @kamenoyaki @ppangiiroo @loeyprivvv @kmskj92 @lovinnoya @tris-does-stuff @mokkeguts @sunaluvr6969 @bara-rose-would @sempiternal-amour @volleybloop @leykyuu @bokutoichigo @stfucanunot @tpwkatsumu @ohshirabu @shoutosimp @mqrinqcele @bokutosdivineass @anngelllla @toworuu @hidden-otaku-stuff @seijohiselite @caxsthetic @aquariarose @hhwanggu @bakuhoetoedoroki
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yslkook · 3 years
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#do you have the bandwidth (7)
#corporate masterlist summary: the closer it gets to the new year, the more memorable moments you have. word count: 6.1k warnings: cursing, alcohol, discussion of mental health a/n: ENJOYYYY and thank you to @taestybae​ <333
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After you had texted Jungkook after the holiday party, it seemed like neither of you went longer than a few days without texting each other. Most of it was for work related reasons- but Jungkook was aching to talk to you about anything outside of work.
And at work, his head spins when you spend a few extra minutes at his cubicle as you’re passing by-
“Your boss would be ashamed at the state of your desk plant,”
“We don’t all have a green thumb, okay-”
“You don’t need a green thumb to take care of a succulent, Jungkook! Look at it! She just needs a friend.”
“You be her friend then.”
“We are friends,” You murmur with a blinding smile, “Aren’t we?”
“Y-yeah,” Jungkook swallows nervously.
And then you had asked him if he wanted to have lunch with you and Seokjin, a request that had made his head spin. Do you even know what you’re doing to him?
From the oblivious smile on your face, he thinks not.
But it’s so easy to insert himself into conversation with you. You always look to him, to make sure if he has something to say, that he says it. You do that with everyone, really. Whether it’s at work or not-
“Hey, I made a lot of samgyeopsal last night,” You say, opening your container once you’re seated at the table, “Figured you’d want some?”
Jungkook looks at you and then the container a few times. His stomach rumbles and his heart flips, a betrayal of his own body. 
You’re already placing some in his plate without asking, along with some rice. It’s all so very domestic, despite the fact that you’re both in the middle of the office cafeteria.
“Jin likes samgyeopsal, too,” You muse, “Especially the way Grandma makes it. Grandma cooks so much better than me. She says Appa used to cook better than me, too.”
You laugh and Jungkook is stunned. He doesn’t think you’ve ever opened up about home to him before. 
“What else do you like cooking?” 
Your eyes light up as you rattle off different things you’re trying. You tell him you want to become better at baking-
“I’m a ready and willing test subject, here at your service.”
“Oh, really?” You snort, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jungkook eats his food in awe, his eyes wide and sparkling and lips tinted with sauce. It surprises you, how eager you are for his reaction. He moans in satisfaction, even closing his eyes as he chews.
Your face heats up. The noise that comes out of his mouth should most definitely be inappropriate for the general public of the office cafeteria.
“So much better than anything I could offer you,” Jungkook groans.
“I’m sure I’ll think of something, Jungkook.”
And while the end of the year means that things are starting to wind down with the holidays approaching- everyone is out of the office from Christmas Eve until the day after New Years- you still meet with your submissions team once before bowing out for the holiday.
It feels oddly nostalgic, as if you’re saying goodbye to friends rather than colleagues-
“Any plans, Sana?” Namjoon asks at the end of the meeting. All of your laptops are down, having finished your work about twenty minutes ago. 
This was the best part. Finishing the work early so that you could catch up with each other. Ever since Tokyo, you’ve felt the bonds between the four of you strengthen into something more than just workplace associates.
“Going to my grandparents’ with my dad,” Sana replies, leaning back in her chair, “You?”
“Visiting the family. I’ll be here for new years though,” Namjoon muses and turns to you.
“Oh, yeah. Me too,” You nod and Jungkook nods in agreement.
“Nobody’s traveling this year?” Namjoon asks, “We’re all wasting our youth. But our families are gettin’ older, huh?”
Namjoon is nothing if not tactful. 
“Maybe next year,” Jungkook jokes, eyes crinkling.
You groan and smack your palm to your forehead, “It’s too early for ‘next year’ jokes, Jungkook. Reign it in.”
“No such thing as too early,” Jungkook protests.
“You’re the type to come in the first day back and tell everyone that you haven’t seen them since last year,” You tease, and Jungkook lets out a surprised laugh.
“So what if I am? It’s a timeless joke!”
“Oh, is it?”
Namjoon rolls his eyes as you both playfully bicker. “Before we leave, since this is our last meeting for this project… Thank you for all of your hard work in the last few months. You’ve all really stepped up, and I’m proud to lead a team as strategic, smart, and flexible as this one.”
“Watch out, Namjoon, you’ll put a tear in my eye,” You interrupt with a grin. He shoots you an impressed glare and you shut your mouth.
“As you know, Tokyo will be here in February. And I expect nothing but the best from us. But until then… Enjoy the holiday, and be safe and well. And spend time with your loved ones.”
Jungkook catches the soft look in your eyes. You bite your bottom lip nervously, feeling like you have to say something. At least to Namjoon.
So you muster every ounce of bravery in you and open your mouth. “Thanks, Namjoon. For… everything.”
Well, nobody said you were a poet.
And sometimes you might text him after work, too. Sometimes you send pictures of your dinner and dessert to him. And he, without fail, compliments every single one of them with an array of emojis. 
Jungkook sometimes can’t believe it. He finds himself asking Taehyung if he’s dreaming- that you’re really texting him. Taehyung rolls his eyes and smacks the back of his head.
Sometimes when you try new wines with Grandma, you tell him about it. You send him snapchat videos once in a while, after a few glasses of wine detailing your assessment of the wine-
Hey. It’s me. Today, I tried this five year old pinot noir. Don’t even like pinot noir like that. Don’t you think all wines taste the same? Except pinot noir. Pinot noir tastes like the devil’s lettuce.
When you send him snapchat videos, his heart seizes in his chest at the flash of your name on his screen. The camera will be facing you, voice slurring and a little high pitched. In one of them, he thinks you’re in your bed, under the covers half asleep. 
And when he sends you little videos back, he stammers in nervousness. In fact, he drops his phone more than once while recording himself doing his skincare routine to send to you.
The fact that you willingly send him these silly snapchat videos of your sleepy voice, sends a flutter of butterflies through his belly.
Jungkook starts going to bed with a goodnight text from you more often than not.
You surprise him again, on a random Thursday night, asking him what he’s doing. It’s the Thursday before Christmas.
Normally, Seokjin is your go-to to text when you can’t sleep at night. But you find yourself curiously hovering over Jungkook’s text message thread more often than not these days.
Jungkook is playing video games and the moment he sees your name flash across his screen, he gets distracted. A chorus of protests echoes in his ears when he suddenly pauses to check his phone. It’s close to 1 AM, and he wonders what you’re doing awake.
you : hi you: what are you up to you: i cant sleep lol jungkook: is this a booty call? You: lmaoo shut up. if this was a booty call u would know jungkook: what’s a dude to think
Jungkook blames his next text on the fact that it’s after hours, also known as vulnerable hours.
jungkook: when a pretty girl texts u at 1 AM what am i meant to think you: idk, go ask whoever else is texting u at 1 AM 
Of course, you don’t take the bait. Who does he think he is?
you: i was just thinking about u
He pretends like his hands don’t shake as he types his response to you. It appears that he’s feeling brave tonight.
jungkook: want to facetime? 
His heart races in anticipation when he sees three dots on his screen. They go away in a flash and before disappointment settles in, you’re FaceTiming him.
Jungkook nearly fumbles his phone in his hand before he answers. 
“H-hi,” He mumbles in greeting, a tired smile gracing his features.
You cannot believe that you’re FaceTiming Jungkook. You don’t remember FaceTiming anyone who wasn’t Jin. You wonder if he can feel your nerves through the screen.
“Hi,” You say with a wave, “What are you wearing?” 
You wink at him, eyes dark, before bursting into laughter.
“I thought this wasn’t a booty call,” Jungkook deadpans. As if his cheeks aren’t pink from your words.
“‘S not,” You promise with a laugh,  “Were you sleeping?”
“Nah, I was playing video games with-”
“Oh! I’m sorry, I just barged in on your plans with your friends,” You say apologetically, chewing on your bottom lip, “I didn’t even ask if you were free-”
“Relax, I’m the one who asked if you wanted to FaceTime, remember?” Jungkook says soothingly, and you instantly feel your heart calming from the sincerity in his voice.
“Yeah. ‘Cause you thought this was a booty call,” You grin and Jungkook giggles.
What a sweet sound.
“I’m going to get into bed,” Jungkook murmurs, “Gimme a sec.”
He leaves his phone slanted on his chair, giving you a view of him walking away from you to refill his water bottle from the fridge. You can’t help but stare- even though his clothes are quite baggy, you can make out the outline of his ass through his sweatpants. 
He does have a nice peach. You’ve always thought so. You could probably bounce a quarter off of his ass. Not that you ever would.
“I feel like I’m in your pocket,” You say once Jungkook picks his phone up and heads to his bedroom. He makes sure the lights are off before heading in and closing the door and puts his headphones in his ears.
“You can be my pocket pal,” Jungkook says, getting comfortable in bed.
“How flattering.”
You’re cuddled under your covers on your side, the light from your nightstand illuminating your face. Jungkook sees dark circles lining your undereyes, and a tint of nervousness in your gaze.
You look cozy and cuddly, a little contemplative, and he wonders what’s on your mind. 
“Hey,” You say, voice turning a little serious, “Thank you. For… For answering my text. And for being my friend, in general.”
Your face is heating up, vulnerability pooling in your eyes. You want to look away- maintaining eye contact even through the camera feels like too much. But you’re working on it. You’re working on being more vulnerable to those around you. 
You want to let him in. It hurts how much you want to let him in.
“O-oh. You don’t… You don’t have to thank me for being your friend,” Jungkook stammers. How must you feel about yourself if you feel the need to thank him for just being a friend to you? “Are you...okay?”
Your eyes widen and you play with the hem of your shirt to distract yourself for a second. “Yeah-”
“You don’t have to pretend with me,” Jungkook says softly. 
You pause for a second, heart pounding in your ears. The only person you’ve ever talked to this about is Jin. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you spilled your thoughts to Jungkook.
You’ve never been the best with words. 
“Um,” You say in a tight voice, “I just… I had a really hard day today at therapy. So I can’t sleep.”
Jungkook catches the hesitation in your tone. He’s not the best at comforting people, he thinks. But he’ll try, for you. For you, he’ll try anything.
“Are some days easier than others?” Jungkook asks, trying to probe what you’re comfortable with sharing and what you’re not.
“Yeah. I’ve had worse days, but this has been a tougher day than usual…”
“What do you usually do? On tough days?”
“Mostly just sleep. And then wake up feeling worse,” You laugh dryly.
“Maybe journaling would help. It’s a good way to get rid of the buzzing in your head,” Jungkook suggests and your eyes light up.
“Really? I’ve been thinking about it but I never know where to start,” You reply, “Do you journal?”
“Yeah, sometimes,” Jungkook nods, “You just write...Whatever comes to mind. Get it off your chest. You can make your journals pretty too, if you want.”
“I’ll look into it,” You muse, “Thanks, JK.”
Jungkook’s eyes turn into crescents as he gives you a blinding smile. “Talking to friends helps, too. Even if you don’t want to share everything. Just talking helps.”
Your smile begins to fall and Jungkook quickly tries to backtrack but you beat him to it. “I don’t… have many friends, Jungkook,” You say softly, “As you may have gathered by now. I don’t think I have much to offer.”
Another dry laugh. It breaks his heart a little. What do you think of yourself? Do you recognize when the room lights up when you enter it, when people laugh at your jokes, when people praise you? 
“You have me,” Jungkook says instantly, “You have me, you have Jin. I’m always here if you want an ear.”
“Even at 1 AM, when you’re playing video games with your friends and I’m the dumb bitch who interrupts-”
“Stop that,” Jungkook says firmly, “Yes, even at 1 AM. Especially at 1 AM.”
He reminds you of Jin, when he tells you to stop with the immediate self-deprecation. It makes you smile fondly.
“JK,” You say slowly, “I’m… here for you, too. If you ever need an ear.”
He throws you another blinding smile. It’s no surprise that your dreams that night are filled with that soft bunny smile.
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As Seokjin claims, the best way to get to know someone is over food. Not that he’s wrong- but it’s the first time you’re meeting Yuna and you’re incredibly nervous.
You feel like you’re going on a first date. This unfamiliar first date feeling keeps creeping back more and more lately. How bothersome.
Grandma even asks you why you’re so jumpy-
“You finally going on a date?”
“No! I’m meeting Jin’s new girlfriend. Her name is Yuna,” You roll your eyes.
She gasps, “It’s about time someone snatched that boy up, if you wouldn’t.”
You arrive about ten minutes early to brunch, tapping your foot against the floor restlessly as you scroll through your phone. You wait at the table for them to arrive-
Jin nearly screeches your name from across the restaurant. A pretty woman, Yuna you presume, only laughs at his antics. She loops an arm around his upper arm easily. Despite many of the restaurant patrons glaring at them for causing a scene, Jin pays it no mind.
“Hi,” You breathe and Jin pulls you to him for a tight hug. He holds you in his arms, peering at you as if you’re transparent. “You gonna let me say hi to Yuna, or are you gonna keep staring?” You ask dryly.
Jin gasps, clearly affronted, “I haven’t seen you in days! Excuse me, for missing my best friend.”
“You’re excused,” You grin, but squeeze his arm in appreciation.
Yuna waves at you from next to Jin, rolling her eyes at him. “If he ever lets go of you, maybe I can finally say hello…”
“I knew this was a bad idea. Bringing you both together,” Jin grumbles.
“Hey, you made your bed. Now lay in it,” Yuna says, rubbing his cheek fondly.
To your surprise, Yuna doesn’t pull you for a hug immediately. Instead, she shakes your hand. It might seem awkward to anyone else, but you appreciate it. You appreciate not being hugged by someone you had just met. Jin probably told her that you don’t like impromptu hugs.
You’ve been on edge all morning. But it starts to fade away, slowly. When you sit down next to Yuna and across from Jin. Jin doesn’t mind that you both are engrossed in conversation without him- in fact, he encourages it. He only watches with adoring eyes, drinking his coffee.
“How did you and Jin meet,” You ask curiously, “He gave me the big picture, but lemme hear the details!”
“Seokjin! You never told your best friend how we met?” Yuna gasps, hand against her chest dramatically, “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.”
“What! I did,” Jin pouts, glaring at her playfully.
“Oh, did you? Actually, I would be more offended if I was your best friend and didn’t know all of the details,” Yuna complains.
“Oh, I like her,” You grin, pointing to Yuna, “Bottom line, it’s Jin’s fault. So tell me then-”
“Well,” Yuna says, turning back to you, “As funny as it is, I met him at a coffee shop…”
And she tells you about how Jin started frequenting the same coffee shop for weeks in hopes that he’d catch a glimpse of her after the first time. Your heart aches only a little over the fact that you had no idea. It’s okay though- it’s not about you. She tells you that he had somehow figured out her coffee order and was waiting with her order when he asked for her number.
Yuna whispers that she was a sucker for him right off the bat, and you both share a laugh over that. Even though it’s only been a few weeks, a little over a month, you can see how much she likes him. And how much he likes her.
She also looks at you in the same way Jin does sometimes- like she can see right through you with knowing, curious eyes.
It doesn’t unnerve you as much as you thought it would.
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You’re on a mission, with two bags of fried chicken in the passenger seat of your car. Today, you’re planning on paying a visit to Jimin and Hoseok in their dance studio. They’ve been here for years, and you haven’t seen them. Not even once.
First date jitters settle in your belly again. You’re only making good on your promise to them in Tokyo- that you wouldn’t be so much of a stranger again.
Fried chicken and bubble tea would be the way back into their hearts. Hopefully.
With a deep breath, you park your car into the lot, away from the rest of the cars. And you take your time pulling the food and trays of bubble tea out of your passenger seat before arriving at the front door of the studio. One of the students who is about to leave sees you struggling at the door, and lets you in without a second thought. 
“Thank you,” You murmur and he nods at you before exiting the building.
You spot Jimin with his back turned away from you, talking to Hoseok. It must be something important, from how serious the expression on Hoseok’s face is. But Hoseok pulls away from Jimin when he sees you in the mirror that lines the wall.
He looks surprised, but gives you a bright smile. 
“Uh,” You say, with a weak smile, “Hi. I brought food.”
“Is that fried chicken?” Jimin says, peeking at the bags. You nod and Jimin smiles, taking the bags from you and setting them on the floor.
“And you got our favorite bubble tea flavors,” Hoseok says in approval. You help him set the food and teas in front of you and stretch your legs.
“You should’ve texted! We could’ve gone to dinner or something,” Jimin says, plating the fried chicken for everyone.
“Ah, I wanted to…” You trail off, “Wanted to see the studio. And surprise you both. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” Hoseok murmurs, scratching his chin. His eyes are warm and sunny, just as you remembered all those years ago. It’s interesting, how it’s been so many years since you’ve held a conversation with either of them. And yet, it feels like no time has passed at all. 
You suppose that’s what adulthood is. And maybe you missed some of it while you were in your very own black hole.
“Tell me,” You demand softly, “Tell me everything. And where is Yoongi? Jin mentioned he has a recording studio?”
So they do- they tell you everything, from how they got the seed money for the school, how they train backup dancers and main dancers, and have just expanded their team so that they can train younger kids, too. 
“Took a while to get here,” Hoseok shrugs, “But we’re here.”
“Yeah. We are,” You say wistfully, “I’m happy for you guys. I remember...how this was your dream. In school. So… I’m happy to see it come true.”
“Ah, don’t go getting all sappy on us now,” Jimin teases and you roll your eyes.
“Hey, finish your bubble tea. Let’s dance it out,” Hoseok says. Your lips part in surprise, about to protest. But they’re both persuasive and you’re not immune to their charms.
So you dance with them, the music bouncing off of the walls, the mirrors and reverberating in your blood and making your heart pound. You dance with them, you laugh, and you even cry a little.
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Nerves seize you as you walk towards the karaoke bar from your Uber with Jin and Yuna. You had driven to Jin’s apartment and left your car there, to Uber (and pregame) with them. He refused to let you take an Uber by yourself all the way from home into the city. It’s been years and you’ve given up fighting him on it.
Yuna has an arm slinked around your shoulders as she leads you inside, seemingly sensing your nerves.
So many people, mostly faces you don’t recognize are at the karaoke bar. Yuna pulls you away, to introduce you to her girlfriends.
Yuri, Sooyoung, Seohyun. They talk to you as if you’ve been a part of their circle since the beginning. It makes you yearn for it- for girl friendship.
Yuri suggests a round of drinks and shots for everyone, and you go with her to the bar to get the bartender’s attention.
You catch Jungkook’s eye and you tell Yuri you’ll meet her at the bar.
“Hi, Jungkook,” You breathe, a little nervously. You smile brightly at him, opening your arms for a hug without a second thought. He also looks delicious, a fact that you had been all too aware of. He’s wearing a baggy white shirt and a bomber jacket, paired with tight, black jeans and combat boots. Two silver hoops sit pretty in each ear, and a metallic feather dangles from his right ear. He has his hair pinned back, exposing part of his undercut to you on his left side. On his right side, his hair falls over his eyes in an effortless waterfall.
You want to push his hair back. You resist the urge and clasp your clutch tightly.
He smells spicy and warm. Like always. You could drown in his arms, you think. You don’t want to let go of him, you quite enjoy the feel of his strong arms easily wrapped around you.
But he lets you go and you let him go.
“Hi,” He says, his eyes crinkling, “How’s it goin’?”
“Good,” You murmur, “You sober?”
“Nah, had a few drinks with Tae at home,” Jungkook says, pointing to Taehyung. Who’s currently chatting Yuri up at the bar.
“He’s trouble,” You laugh lightly.
“You don’t have to tell me twice. I live with the guy.”
Jungkook had seen you walk in with Seokjin and Yuna earlier. You were deep in conversation with Yuna, throwing your head back in laughter. He’s glad- he’s glad that you’re finding friends outside of Jin. He knows it’s hard for you to open up. But he’s proud of you for trying.
He knows this because you’ve told him. Late at night, via text. During vulnerable hours, as he’s dubbed them. He’s flattered that you feel comfortable enough to share such things with him. He’s only known you again for a few months, but the way you had been in the beginning is a stark contrast from how you are now.
You’d been mean in the beginning, a little rough around the edges. But now, you’re a little softer. He likes you like this. Jungkook doesn’t like when you’re deliberately mean. 
Even if you haven’t truly apologized for how you’d treated him in the beginning, he thinks it's mostly forgivable.
You look so pretty- is the first thought that runs through his head. As it generally always is. You’re wearing a black velvet off the shoulder top that proudly shows your tattoos off on display and a thin gold necklace at the base of your throat. A watch sits pretty on your wrist, your pants are tight around your thighs...
He could stare at you for hours. Jungkook loves the way your face relaxes when you laugh, loudly and genuinely.
Jungkook’s throat goes dry, the same way it did at the holiday party. He can’t keep his eyes off of you- your bare shoulders, the dip of your chest, the swell of your ass… 
If he doesn’t watch himself, he might have to rub one out in one of the dirty bathroom stalls. And this time, he probably won’t be so lucky to be alone in the bathroom the way he was at the party.
He just can’t believe how pretty you are, and how he gets to see you like this as often as he does.
Taehyung snaps his fingers in front of Jungkook, waving his hand in front of his face. “Hellooooo,” Taehyung says, “Anyone home?”
“Shut up,” Jungkook grins, shoving his hand to the side.
“The hell are you staring at?” Taehyung mutters, following Jungkook’s line of sight and sees you, “Oh. No wonder. Your girl’s here.”
“She’s not my girl,” Jungkook protests.
“Yeah, don’t I know it,” Taehyung scoffs, “You gonna make a move? Or should I?”
Jungkook rolls his eyes, shoving Taehyung’s shoulder. Seokjin approaches both of them, throwing an arm around them and Jungkook forces his eyes away from you. Jungkook smells alcohol on Jin’s breath- he’s screeching about how he wants them to meet Yuna-
“Jin, she’s right there,” Jungkook says with wide eyes, “You can just-”
Over the last few months, being under Namjoon and Seokjin’s tutelage feels like he’s gained two older brothers. While Jungkook was initially wary about developing such close relationships with colleagues, let alone superiors, the pull of friendship was too tight for him to really resist.
Jin smacks Jungkook’s shoulder roughly, “You think I don’t know that! That my girlfriend is right there! She’s with your girl-”
Jin’s smile twists into a smirk and Jungkook’s jaw drops. 
“Close your mouth, Kook. Lookin’ like a damn fish outta water,” Jin says smugly, “I know everything. Don’t you forget it, kid.”
Jungkook just pouts at him, “I’m not a kid.”
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“You kissin’ anyone at midnight?” Taehyung asks smoothly, with his legs spread and his arm over the back of the seat to face you.
You scoff, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He’s easy and fun to talk to. You don’t notice Jungkook’s smile dissolving into a pout.
Taehyung looks at Jungkook knowingly, with a smirk and innocent, dark eyes. Dangerous. “Wanna be my midnight kiss?”
He’s bold. You don’t think you’ve ever met someone as bold as Taehyung. But you understand why him and Jungkook click.
“You fuckin’ wish, Taehyung,” You swat his shoulder playfully, taking a long sip of your drink.
Jungkook crosses his arms across his chest petulantly. Taehyung knows about his not so secret crush on you. He’s doing this to annoy him, but also to tell him to get a move on with you.
But he likes slow, and he wants slow with you. If you’d ever give it to him. 
“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Taehyung says loudly, looking over your head to Jungkook subtly.
“Oh, I can definitely blame you for trying,” You roll your eyes, “C’mon. Let me get us some drinks-”
“I don’t-”
“I know you don’t like alcohol. I saw they have this fancy peach and mango drink, thought you’d like it,” You shrug and Taehyung’s face splits into a broad smile. 
“How thoughtful of you,” Taehyung beams, ruffling your hair fondly, “C’mon, Jungkook. Our girl is buying.”
You and Jungkook both roll your eyes this time, and you let your gaze land on him. “Your friend is a nuisance,” You mumble to Jungkook loudly, grinning when Taehyung pouts at you.
“Hey! I can hear you!”
“Good, that was the point.”
You were happy to be in settings like this without needing Seokjin to be a buffer for you. You think it’s progress- you can’t remember a single moment in the last five years that you didn’t need your best friend by your side to get you through events like this.
And now, you’re alone with Taehyung and Jungkook. All on your own. You think he might be proud of you. You think Appa might be proud of you, too.
“What can I get you, JK?” You ask, leaning close to him at the bar to hear what he says. 
“Soju,” He says instantly, his breath close to your ear. A shiver trails up your spine at his low voice.
“Me too,” You murmur, “We’re the only ones with any taste in this entire establishment.”
His eyes crinkle when he laughs. You love the sound. Neither of you realize that Taehyung has long disappeared. 
You lean against the bar, pushing most of your weight onto your elbows as you both wait for your drinks. Jungkook is so close to you that you can feel the warmth radiating through his white shirt and his leather jacket. You had already teased him for his white shirt before-
“You must have a lot of faith in yourself and in our friends if you think that white shirt will stay white all night.”
“I’ve got my good luck charm with me,” Jungkook winks at you.
Who does he think he is? You know he’s not talking about a physical charm, from the way he’s looking at you with stars in his eyes.
“Any resolutions this year, JK?” You prompt him, wringing your hands together.
“Nah, not really,” Jungkook shrugs, “Maybe just go see my parents and my brother more often. I wanna get back into photography, too.”
“Photography,” You hum, “That’s so very you.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah,” You nod with a small smile, “You seem like… You know how to capture a moment, even if it’s something mundane. You could make anything special, Jungkook.”
Jungkook’s cheeks flush at your soft praise. He wants to make you feel special. “T-Thanks,” He mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck shyly, “Do you have any resolutions for the new year?”
“I don’t know,” You shrug, “I think this year… I want to let myself be happier. Not much of a resolution but…” You trail off, suddenly alarmed.
“Sorry,” You mumble, “Didn’t mean to kill the mood.”
“What?” Jungkook says with wide eyes, “You didn’t. Trust me.
“And for what it’s worth… You deserve to be happy. H-happy looks good on you.”
A pet name almost slips out of his lips. Almost. The beaming, bashful smile you give him makes his heart race and his insides warm. 
“Is that the only thing that looks good on me?” You bat your lashes at him, lips formed into a pretty pout and Jungkook feels his knees weakening. He swallows nervously. Do you even know what you do to him?
Before he can muster a stuttering reply, the bartender appears with your bottles of soju. You turn a little too quickly on your heel, your heel slipping out from under you.
Of course you’re going to trip and bust your ass in front of everyone. And most importantly, in front of Jungkook. You squeeze your eyes for the inevitable thump of your ass hitting the wet floor, but it never comes.
Instead, you feel a warm, strong arm wrapped tightly around your waist. You feel your back against a solid chest. Your throat instantly goes dry and you force yourself to turn in his arms to look at him.
“You’re clumsy,” Jungkook says quietly, only for your ears. His eyes are teasing, his voice low from the rumble in his chest.
“N-no,” This time you’re the one who’s flustered, “Floor’s wet…”
Neither of you move away from each other. Your hand is still tight around his bicep, his hand firm against your waist. How is it that he always makes you feel like you’re the only girl in the world?
He could kiss you. You could kiss him. He could kiss you. You could kiss him. 
Instead, you stay in his arms for a little longer. Both of you sipping on your soju and sharing sweet smiles and starry eyes.
At least until Seokjin whisks you away, yelling at you for not even having one drink with him yet.
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There are about thirty seconds left until the New Year. You can’t help it- you want to see Jungkook. He makes your heart flutter and pound at the same time- with his smile that you like to pretend burns a little brighter when it’s directed at you.
You find him, towards the back of the bar. He’s in conversation with Taehyung and Jimin but when Taehyung notices you noticing Jungkook, he grins to himself. And leaves the conversation, dragging Jimin with him.
You don’t notice that. You only see Jungkook.
The confusion in Jungkook’s doe eyes is cute, but it washes away when he sees you. His heart picks up again, throat going dry.
The countdown has begun already. Fifteen seconds left.
“Jungkook,” You say a little breathlessly. Jungkook can see the slick of tipsiness in your eyes when you flick your gaze from his lips to his eyes. You lean into him, chest to chest. Your voice catches in your throat when you realize your proximity.
You can see the mole beneath his pouty lower lip. Neither of you moves.
“Yeah?” He murmurs.
You could kiss him. He could kiss you. You could kiss him. He could kiss you. 
Five!
“I just-”
Four!
“I’m happy you’re in my life again-”
Three!
Jungkook says your name. “Me too. Really happy-”
Two!
His eyes are wide, unsure but sparkling. Adoring, even. And he’s looking at you like that.
One!
A chorus of cheers erupt behind you and you muster all of your courage. To press your lips against his cheek gently. Jungkook’s heart stutters, singing at the lingering touch of your lips against his skin. It’s not much, but it’s enough for his cheeks to turn pink and for yours to heat up.
It’s just you and him in this crowded, noisy bar. Everything else fades away when you stand with him.
A soft gasp leaves his lips, blowing on your face. He gives you a bashful smile, and you’re surprised at your own actions.
Your name sounds so good on his tongue. Like honey.
“Happy new year,” Jungkook says softly. He dares to press his forehead to yours and you exhale shakily at the action. You feel warm all over, as if bubbly champagne has been poured into your veins. You feel his hand at your waist.
“Happy new year, JK,” You say easily with a disarming grin. 
Jungkook wants to kiss you, kiss the gloss right off of your pretty lips. But not yet, not here. Not when he hasn’t taken you on a date, when he hasn’t even held your hand yet.
Not yet. Not here.
The way he looks at you, as if you’ve somehow captured stardust in your smile, it excites you and scares you at the same time. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you this intensely, as if they can see right through you.
It sets your nerves on fire. You sway on the spot, leaning into the warmth of his forehead on yours.
“Happy new year,” Jungkook says again, dimples on display. He wonders if you can feel the tremble of his hand against your waist. Or if you can feel the way his heart is about to explode out of his chest.
You think you could spend hours glancing into his deep, sparkling eyes. A flash of his cold eyes from months ago intrudes your memories, but it’s gone as soon as it comes. 
His brown eyes are so warm and toasty- ringing in the new year with his soft gaze on you like this feels right.
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tags: @koo-zy​
100 notes · View notes
thiswasinevitableid · 3 years
Note
for the meet ugly prompts, 38 indruck nsfw ;)
Here you go!
38: I overhear you ordering your coffee in a coffee shop and I’m trying to place your voice when I realize that you’re the phone sex operator I’ve been calling on and off for the last few months but the realization startles me so much that I accidentally spill my drink on you and you’re pissed
Indrid thought he was having a normal day. He’s treating himself to a post work iced vanilla mocha, then he’ll go home, watch T.V and draw, maybe jerk off, then go to bed and get up in time for his eight a.m appointment tomorrow.
He’s messing around on his phone when the person placing their order catches his ear. There’s something in the drawl, polite and friendly, that feels weirdly familiar. It’s not a regular at the shop, and a glance at the mans face offers no useful information; he’s a complete stranger.
The barista asks something about the second drink, and the man replies, “as sweet as can be, please.”
“Ahnngod, please, please, please say I can cum?” Indrid’s been edging himself with the fleshlight so long his wrist is sore.
“Hmmm” the voice on the phone takes his sweet time answering, “dunno, not sure I punished you enough for teasin me in the bar.”
Indrid whimpers, hoping the neighbors can’t hear (even if he’d like them too, they haven’t consented to it).
This is how his calls to the 1-800-Hot-Guys line have gone ever since his first time. He asks for “Ryan,” gets a sweet, southern greeting before the other man asks what he’s in the mood for tonight. See, Indrid’s only recently begun exploring his interest in men, and is discovering that a better sense of his sexuality makes it much easier to get in touch with his other desires. Like being fucked in a bathroom stall where lots of people can hear what’s happening to him.
Ryan always takes the ideas generated by Indrid’s desire-addled brain and runs with them. Tonight, virginal Indrid Cold went to a leather bar and found a bear waiting for him (he suspects Ryan might be one in the real world, because when Indrid first revealed that preference his moans sounded a touch more genuine). The bear made him blow him in front of everyone to make sure he was worth taking home, then told him not to cum until he was done fucking him.
“Please?”
A chuckle, “Okay darlin, you can cum.”
Indrid’s certain he hurts Ryan's ear with the noise he makes as he spurts into the toy, but all the other man says is , “Good boy.”
After a moment, he adds, “aw fuck, meant to bring some spankin or somethin into the scene because I know you like it.”
“That’s, that’s quite alright. I’m not sure you could ever disappoint me.”
“Thanks, sugar.”
Indrid whines, hoping it sounds horny and not like the noise a man who’s just realized he’ll be sleeping alone makes.
“You like when I call you that? Because it’s true; you’re as sweet as can be”
As he’s been having its slow-motion realization, Indrid’s body has been going on autopilot, picking up his cup when the young woman behind the counter calls his name. Which means that--when Indrid startles at his revelation-- the cup is in perfect position to send its contents flying straight onto the man who caused it.
“AHfuck, jesus man be careful!”
“I, I’m so sorry, here, let me-” he slips in the puddle of coffee and hits the floor, kicking the other man in the shin on his way down.
“Owfuck, fuck, okay, don’t fuckin try to help again.” The man snaps.
“Nono, right, I’m sorry, goodbye” he scrambles up, sticky with shame and vanilla syrup, and hurries out of the shop.
--------------------------
Duck keeps an eye on his burner phone while playing Plants vs Bom-Boms on his real one. It’s shaping up to be another night with only two calls.
He took up the phone sex thing during the last government shutdown; the park had to furlough them, and he needed money. The extra cash was nice enough that he kept at it even after work started back up. He isn’t the most in-demand operator; he can’t lie, laughs a little too easily, so lots of callers don’t come to him a second time.
One of the few who does is Indrid. He’s Duck’s favorite because their fantasies align well enough that he actually jerks off while on the phone with him. But the guy hasn’t called in two weeks; this is a bummer, in part, because Duck came up with a scenario involving a pool table and a biker gang he thinks Indrid would really be into.
More than that, he’s worried about him.
He worries about him so much that even a half a day later he’s wondering if he should figure out how to have someone check on him. The coffee shop is conducive to thinking. Right up until the dipshit who spilled coffee on him a few weeks back plops down in the seat across from him.
“You here to ruin another shirt?”
The man, all silver hair and angular features, shakes his head, “Nono, I, I really am very sorry about that. I came to offer to buy you another.”
Duck points at his cup.
“Some other time?”
“You come here often?’
“Since I moved to the city, yes. I was out in the suburbs up until a few months ago.”
“Fine. Next time we see each other, you owe me a drink.”
He nods, nearly sliding his red glasses off his nose in his eagerness. Then he taps on the table, “There’s, ah, something else you should know. We already know each other. In a way.”
Duck frowns; he’s never seen this guy before, he’d remember his face.
“We talk on the phone. Often.”
Oh fuck.
“My name is, ah, it’s, it’s Indrid.”
“Jesus, glad you’re ok--hold the fuck on. How the fuck do you know who I am?”
“I recognized your voice the last time we were both here. I, I wanted to get to know you more but I felt it was only right to do so if you knew I knew who you were so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable, but you clearly are, I’m so sorry” he stands up, banging his knee in the process, “I promise I won’t call any more, I didn’t mean to be creepy, I’m sorry, goodbye.”
He’s out the door in a flash of long limbs before Duck has a chance to respond.
Duck sighs, downs the rest of his coffee, and decides not to dwell on the fact he’s going to miss Indrid’s calls.
--------------------------------------------------
Indrid’s excited. He really is.
It’s just that the sex club is even more overstimulating than he anticipated.
It was alright at first; when he replied that yes, this was his first time, the guy working the counter ushered him over to a set of blue velvet seats and told him to wait. Soon, Indrid and ten others were being given a rundown of the rules, risks, and etiquette of the space, their understanding of which they signed in a neatly typed contract.
Then they turned them loose into three stories of sexual exploration and Indrid froze, totally unable to process it all. Lucky for him Lucy, there with her girlfriend Willow, helped him navigate the edge of the first floor until they came to one of the “chill out” rooms; rooms for people for whom the club was as much a place to chat with friends as it was a place to get spanked or suspended. They even have juice.
After three separate people check to be sure he’s alright, he asks the trio on a nearby couch where he should go to if he’s interested in bondage and impact play. They all agree the second floor is his best bet, and that there’s a shibari demonstration starting soon.
To reach the demo room, Indrid passes though a portion of the space that reminds him of a hotel. The nice dominatrix explained the rules for their use as: doors and windows closed, leave us alone. Curtains open but door shut? You’re free to watch, but don’t come in. And if the door is open, you’re welcome to join whatever is happening. He pauses at some open windows, but nothing really catches his attention.
The demo room is already packed, so he stays at the back. A perk of being tall is he can see the couple on the little platform easily without blocking anyone else’s view. The dom is explaining why she chose the rope she did and what ties she’s going to show everyone. Indrid listens, but his eyes wander in hopes of finding someone checking him out.
Someone is. But Indrid isn’t sure it’s a good thing.
Duck stands a few bodies to his left, looking him up and down with a slight smile. Well, at least that means he doesn’t think he’s stalking him or something.
The other man meets his eyes, tips his head towards the nearby green room and raises an eyebrow. Indrid nods, picks his way through the crowd to find Duck has beaten him there.
“Y’know, if you’d told me you were into this scene, I coulda worked with that.” He polishes off his water and tosses the cup in the trash.
“I...this is my first time. Is, ah, is it yours?”
“Nah. Came some when I was younger, decided to come out tonight because I was bored and itchin’ to get someone cute in my lap.” The casual way he says it is a hundred times hotter than the practice voice he used on the phone.
“Ah. In, ah, in that case, would you mind if I asked you a question?”
“Shoot.” Duck leans against the wall, grinning.
“Am I dressed alright for this?” He gestures to his pink and yellow tank top and black jeans.
He watches Duck catch his laugh before it starts, which he appreciates.
“You’re dressed just fine, Indrid. I mean, just look at me.”
“I am” Indrid is having such a difficult time tearing his eyes from the way Duck’s white t-shirt fits his chest or how the bluejeans show off his ass. Duck catches him mid-ogle, which is all it takes to drop his gaze to the floor.
“C’mon, sit down with me a sec.” Duck settles on a grey couch, leaving Indrid space to join him, “feel like you and I got off on the wrong foot. You know I ain’t angry with you for tellin me you were a customer, right?”
Indrid shakes his head but sits down all the same.
“Indrid, you startled the hell outta me when you admitted that. For a second, I was sure you were gonna try to get somethin outta me by threatenin to tell my boss at my regular job. But then it was so fuckin clear all you were tryin to do was be straight with me and try to be polite about the drink thing, I wasn’t mad at all. You just up and bolted before I could say as much.”
“Ah. Yes. I, ah, I can be a bit of a walking disaster so I try to get out of situations before I make them even worse.”
Duck touches his hand, “I get bein’ spooked. Happens to everyone. But, uh, guess what I’m also gettin at is, uh, if you wanna actually get to know each other, I ain’t gonna complain.”
“I’d like that.”
“Okay” Duck scoots closer, “let’s start easy; what do you do when you ain’t callin me?”
Indrid tells him about the tattoo shop, which leads to them comparing ink, which in turn leads to Duck getting on a ten minute digression about native plants. They’re debating the best Cramps album (Duck votes for “Date With Elvis,” Indrid for “Off the Bone”) when they decide to stretch their legs, Duck holding Indrid’s hand as he weaves them through rooms and clumps of people.
They end up doing laps of the second floor, people watching, during which Duck nudges Indrid playfully, “Knew you were kiddin me with the never been fucked stuff.”
“Ah, well…”
“Holy fuck, you’ve never had sex and you picked here as the place to try? You got guts, sugar.”
Indrid blushes, “Well, yes and no. I’ve never had sex with another guy, but I feel confident in what kinds of things I want to try. You helped a lot with that; you made me feel safe enough to express and explore my more intense desires.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“I came here out of curiosity, and because I thought my chances were good of finding someone who shared my interests without running the gamut of dating.”
“So all that stuff about bein watched, bein roughed up and used, you, uh, you really like it?”
“Indeed. Do you like it too? I, ah, I assume you pretend to like everything when you work on a sex line.”
“You’re supposed to yeah. But I’ll let you in on a little secret” Duck leans close, whispers in his ear, “I never was much good at pretendin.”
“Oh. Oh my.” He leans against Duck, excitement making his legs unreliable.
“You want me to show you just how much I like it?”
“Please.”
Duck kisses his cheek, “Missed hearin you beg, sugar. C’mon.” He pulls Indrid two doors down to a room dedicated to impact play. People are sprawled and tied to crosses, benches, chairs, all of which look exciting. Duck doesn’t stop to consider them, doesn’t even hesitate on their trip. He stops at a table, one bolted to the floor, and digs through a nearby basket.
“Here it is” he pulls out a red blanket, holds it out for Indrid to test the texture.
“It’s lovely.”
“Good” Duck spreads it on the table, “you’ll be comfier this way. How naked do you wanna be?”
“Is just my underwear alright?”
Duck points to the completely nude person being spanked on his right and the fully clothed one being hit with a crop to his left.
“I meant with you.”
Duck sets his hands on Indrid’s hips, “as long as I get to see this cute ass in the air for me, I’ll be just fine.”
Indrid quickly strips to his boxer briefs, opts to leave them on for now. Duck licks his lips, pats the table. Indrid bends over it, feet planted on the floor.
“Gonna use just my hand tonight. Easier for me to feel how hard I’m hittin, and I wanna be able to grope you while I turn your ass red.”
He moans, tenses as Duck rubs soothing circles on his ass. The first few slaps are mild, Duck checking on him after each one. Then one comes, hard and sharp, and he gasps, hips momentarily twitching away from Duck.
“Still good?”
“So very good, more, pleaseAHgod” He clings to the far end of the table as Duck brings ten slaps down on each side before giving him a rest.
“Let’s see...how many times would you say you called me?”
“At, at least fifteen.”
“Fifteen times two, add a few extra for ghostin me…” Duck pets his lower back, “You’re gonna get forty on each side as punishment for not lettin me see you cum all those times you called. Think you can handle that?”
Indrid nods.
“Count.”
“AHone, two, th-three, Aaaah,god, fourfive…”
Indrid loses himself somewhere around “ten” on the second side; all his focus is on being good, on counting out each strike, on taking whatever Duck wants to give him. His heartbeat is loud in his ears and his skin stings from ass to thigh. Dimly, he hears spectators complimenting Duck on having such a well-trained sub.
“He is, ain’t he?” Duck lands the final blow with a grunt, keeps his hand there and squeezes. Indrid whimpers, the pain going straight to his already aching dick. Duck shifts his stance, still mercilessly groping the bruise but pressing his fly against the cleft of Indrid’s ass, making it abundantly clear Indrid isn’t alone in his arousal, “he fuckin knows who he belongs too.”
Indrid moans, tears pricking his eyes; Duck is wonderful, Duck is handsome, Duck is perfect, and Duck is claiming him instead of someone twice as attractive or experienced.
“I know, sugar, you like it when people see how good you are for me.” Duck crouches down, petting Indrid’s hair as he studies his face, “you wanna regroup and finish this at home? Or do you need me now?”
“Now?” Indrid raises his head hopefully. His voice is odd in his throat, vulnerable but not afraid in the slightest. Duck nods, helps him up, thanks the person who offers to clean-up the station since Indrid, “looks like he’ll hit the ground if you let go” and grabs Indrid’s clothes.
“No point in putting these back on. Not with what I’m gonna do to you.”
They find an unoccupied, cleaned room, Indrid flopping on the bed as Duck closes the door.
“You wanna prep yourself or do you want me to?”
“I, I can do it. And could we, ah, leave the curtains closed for this bit?”
“Course.” Duck draws the red fabric tight as Indrid fishes complimentary condoms and lube from the bowl on the table. He’s so wound up he starts with two, the stretch uncomfortable for a few instants before he gets himself to relax.
“You look so fuckin good doin that.” Duck is undressing, only taking his eyes off Indrid when his belt buckle resists him.
“I’ve had a lot of practice fingering myself while listening to you. I, I’d picture whatever person you told me to but I, none of it compares to you.”
Duck blushes as he pulls his pants off.
“I mean it. You, you’re so handsome I” he tenses, pushing the third finger in and fucking himself fast, “I can’t believe it. I,I want to be so good for you, Duck, please,” he’s babbling, decides to quit while he’s ahead, “is three enough?”
“You tell me.” Duck gestures to his dick with a flourish; it’s average length, he thinks, but combined with the dark hair on Duck’s belly and the strong curve of his thighs, it is the most glorious dick in all of creation.
“Yes, yesyes, please come over here now oh, wait, the curtains please?”
Duck whisks them open on his way to the bed, settles with his back against the wall before rolling the condom on with ease. He points to his lap, “You wanna face me?”
“Yes. I...I like the idea of people watching but I don’t think I can handle seeing their scrutiny just yet.” He straddles Duck, let’s the shorter grope his sore ass before guiding it down.
“You sure you wanna do this now?” Duck murmurs into his chest, “you don’t owe me your first time with a fella.”
Indrid kisses his forehead and sinks down in reply.
‘Fuck!” Duck grips his hips, laughs, “that’s a hell of an answer, sugar.”
“Nngh” Indrid’s whole brain goes offline at the feeling of Duck inside him.
“Dick drunk already?” Duck teases.
“YesAHGOD, god, ohmygoodness.” He clings to Duck’s shoulders as the other man fucks up into him with abandon.
“That’s just fine, ‘Drid. Got enough brains for the two of us; all you gotta do is be my cute, fucked-out toy.”
“Nffph” Indrid hides his face in Duck’s neck. His legs and ass, still sore from earlier, are reluctant to obey his mind, so all he can do is let Duck bounce him on his cock or hold him down on it to thrust up in short, demanding jerks of his body.
“We got an audience.”
Indrid tries to moan. It comes out a whimper.
“You want me to tell you what they’re doin?”
“Mmhhmm”
“Two of ‘em are makin out with one eye on you. The other three…” he nibbles Indrid’s ear, “they’re jerkin off to us. Don’t blame ‘em, you look so fuckin good on my dick they all wish they were me.”
“Duck” his cock keeps rubbing on Duck’s belly, threatening to spill before he’s ready.
“One of ‘em asks how you feel on my dick. You want me to tell him?”
“Please.”
“Fuckin’ great!” Duck yells, “it’s his first time and he’s” Duck grunts, bucks his hips, “so fuckin tight but takes it like a fucking champ. Gettin in this ass is a fuckin privilege.”
Indrid smiles into his skin at the pride in Duck’s voice and the responding whoops from outside.
“Fuck” Duck kisses his cheek, “fuck, shoulda grabbed a cock ring, I’m gonna cum way too fuckin fast.”
“Me, me too.”
“Just like a fuckin virgin.” Duck quickens their pace.
“I’m not a--Aaaahn” the noise cuts off as he cums between them, cock pulsing onto Duck’s skin.
“Fuck, fuck that’s hot, fuck, c’mon sugar, lemme cum, lemme cum right in this fuckin perfect assfuck, fuck, ‘Drid.” He holds Indrid down, groaning as he pumps his hips. Then he tips them forward, crashing their mouths together and pressing Indrid into the bed.
When they surface for air, the spectators are gone. Duck pulls out, cleans them both up as Indrid tries to remember how words work.
“So good.” Is what comes out.
“Glad you think so.” Duck gathers him into a hug, “you want me to do all the aftercare here?”
Indrid blinks, “what’s the other option?”
“We could, uh, go back to my place?”
“That...I’d like that. Wait.” Indrid cocks his head, “do you...would it really be okay if I stayed the night?”
“Yep. Kinda hopin you’d stay over plenty in the future.”
“You want to date me?’
“Damn right” Duck kisses him, “besides you, still owe me a drink.”
Indrid kisses back, grinning, “So I do.”
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thr-333 · 4 years
Text
Mismatch- Part 13
Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020
The twins find out!
First< Previous > Next
------
Ladybug lands on the building across from the city hall, where Marion had asked to meet up after patrol. She stretches out, enjoying the exercise after being cooped up in the hospital keeping Marion company. She looks over the city, with clear skies that Gotham simply didn't have. Then again she didn't mind so much Gotham has is own style that didn't want or need to change. Chat Noir lands in front of her a minute later, Dupain bakery box in hand.
“I don’t know how other people deal with homesickness,” Chat Noir drops down opening the box.
“Don’t let Kaalki know you're using her miraculous to eat cookies,” Ladybug sits next to him, legs dangling over the edge.
“Don’t be ridiculous, I also use them cause I look great in glasses,” Marion poses despite not wearing them as Chat Noir.
“Sure you do,” She turns back, looking over the city hall, “Thats why your most popular identity wears a mask,”
“Well all my identities- hey!” Ladybug snorts, not needing to look to know Chat Noir was pouting, “You’re just saying that cause your jealous how loveable and popular I am, especially Chat Noir,”
Yeah right. There was a little girl walking on the street below them right now wearing a Ladybug dress MDC had designed. She internally scolds herself for smiling.
“It’s not about popularity, we must take our jobs seriously to protect pari-”
“Do you dare me to steal the Mayor’s sash?” Chat Noir interrupts her speech, talking through a mouthful of cookies.
Ladybug releases a long suffered sigh.
“Yeah, I do,” She takes a cookie from the box.
“Good because I already did it,” She looks over, Chat Noir grinning ear to ear holding the Mayor’s sash, “Let's watch,”
He points towards a window where they have a clear view of the Mayor’s office. He was looking in the mirror and had only just realised it was missing. When Marion stole it she didn’t care to find out. He starts rooting around his office pulling out the contents of draws and cupboards haphazardly. Chat Noir laughs when he starts checking under furniture.
“So how are your ribs feeling,” She asks, noticing he wasn’t cringing at the movement.
“Purrfect,” He purrs, playing with the sash he was now wearing.
“I walked right into that one,” She doesn't tell him off, taking the last cookie instead,
“Yes you did,” Chat Nori reaches for another cookie.
Frowning at her Ladybug sticks out her tongue. Disgusting, covered with mushed up chocolate chips. Chat Noir blanches and turns away.
“Look he left to get help,” Chat Noir grins, both looking towards the window, “Just a sec,”
Chat Noir jumps over to the large window they've been watching through. Slipping inside he places it on top of the desk covered in wayward papers. Ladybug smiles, feeling her yo-yo buzz. They had synced their hero phones up to their normal ones long ago. She had just received a text from Aunt Selina that they were on their way with lawyers. Chat Noir jumps back to her side, grinning as the door opens. Officer Roger steps through instantly spotting the sash on the desk. Marinette can practically feel the officers disbelief as the Mayor tries to explain.
“Aunt Selina texted, we got to go,” Marinette tells him as Chat Noir starts cackling.
“Just a sec,” Chat Noir snaps a picture with his Baton, “Purrfect,”
“Two in a row? Really?” She raises her eyebrow, as he takes out the horse miraculous.
“If it ain’t broke,” Marion shrugs, slipping the glasses over his mask.
“It’s broke, it’s really, really broke,”
Marion only grins transforming and opening a portal back to Gotham.
“Why do I need to be here?” Jason asks, leaning against the wall next to Marion.
“Because the press have several pictures of you driving them away without helmets,” Bruce scowls, standing by the lawyer's seat next to Marion's bed.
“I haven't crashed my bike yet, so what's the issue?” Jason shrugs, grin on his face revealing he knew the exact issue. Marion couldn't help but mirror it.
“You’ve crashed it many times,” Bruce corrects, scowl deepening.
“What! Are you ok?!” Marion snaps towards Jason, scanning him for injury.
“Yeah I’m fine,” There's an amused curl to Jason's lips, “What about you?”
“Oh I’m fine, I heal pretty quickly,” Marion doesn't lean back on bed, forgetting he was meant to be injured.
“You realise your ribs are broken right?” Jason smirks down at him.
“I’ve had worse,” Marion smirks right back, meeting his challenge.
“What! When!” Oh right, their Aunt is here, sitting at the foot of the bed.
“Happens all the time in Paris,” Marion hopes he can pass it off, and avoid the wrath of his sister next to him, “The cure usually heals us pretty quick,”
“The cure?” Bruce prompts, frown lines deepening.
“Yeah Ladybugs cure, she beats the Akuma then releases a whole bunch of Ladybugs like whoosh, that come and fix everything,” From Marinette's face he can tell that he sounded crazy, and she knew what he was talking about.
“... where to start?” Jason looks confused down at him, Marion tries to avoid the same looks from everyone.
“Ladybug? Akuma?” Bruce apparently does know where to start.
“Auntie, don’t you remember last time you were in Paris?” Marinette steps in to save him, “We came home early because school was canceled because of an Akuma attack,”
“I thought you were just skipping!” She exclaims, both shocked and defensive.
“And you didn’t send us back?” Marion cracks a smile.
“Did you really think we’d skip?” Marinette frowns.
“Wouldn’t blame you for it,” Aunt Selina shrugs, Marinette looks like she's about to start a one sided argument. Marion was not about to back her up.
“Who’s Ladybug?” Bruce cuts in, whether he knew of the brewing argument or not is up for debate.
“Hero of Paris?” Marinette meets Marion's glance.
“Paris has no heroes,” Bruce says, with far too much confidence for someone completely wrong.
“Well you might want to let her and Chat Noir know that,” Marion smirks, he'd make sure to deliver the message.
“Not to mention the rest of the Guardians,” Marinette adds, perhaps a little more concerned they didn't know than he was.
“There's more than one?” Jason speaks up, Marion can’t help but feel he and Bruce are having their own secret conversation through glaring.
“Of course, Paris is attacked by super villains every other day,” Marion answers flippantly, doing nothing to dissolve the tension.
“Ok, no, I’ve been to Paris plenty and it’s never been attacked,” Their Aunt says, time for them to hold their own secret conversation.
“Um…” She was definitely privy to one attack, not that people in her position usually remember what happens, “Guess you must of just missed it,”
Smooth he can practically hear Marinette scoff. A silence traps them, likely shorter than it feels.
“Moving on,” The Lawyer, who had introduced herself as Emma, frees them,“I highly recommend there be a press statement released immediately,”
“That isn’t going to stop anyone,” Marion frowns, first hand experience teaching him well.
“No, but we can start pursuing legal action,” Emma agrees, bringing documents out of her briefcase.
“Several news sources can be sued for slander and endangerment,” She hands Marinette the documents, Marion resting his chin on her shoulder to see, “They also played a part in informing villains of your whereabouts, allowing the attack and making you vulnerable to another, I’m not saying this to scare you-”
“It’s fine, we know,” Marinette gives a friendly smile, “Please be honest, it’s more efficient to just be blunt,”
“Right... so several official news sources should be taken to court,” Emma takes on a more professional air, “There are many independent sources that can receive lawsuits, however the most prudent one would be those confirming your presence at the aquarium,”
“I don’t really think we need to go after regular people,” Marion looks over the file that includes pictures of the group he had scared off at the aquarium before the attack.
“It’s your choice, but I strongly encourage you to think over at least sending them charges,” Emma urges, Bruce nodding along, “If nothing else than to discourage others from doing the same,”
“Give us some time to think it over, please,” Marinette sifts through the documents, organising them, “We’re fine with any press release that we can look over first,”
“Very well,” Emma meets Marinette's smile, “Mr Wayne if I can discuss the press release with you?”
He nods, he and Jason leave the room with Emma. Leaving the twins with their Aunt.
“When did you become so cool?” She grins, moving up the bed.
“I’ve always been the coolest twin,” Marinette shrugs, Marion rolling his eyes.
“Nope I distinctly remember you running into the same pole three times in six minutes,” His smirk meets Marinette glare.
“How did you manage that?” Aunt Selina asks, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“Clumsiness has always been a special talent of mine,” Marinette puts the papers down, not quite pulling off the overconfident air he carries, being a little too close to honesty.
“Sure has,” Marion sits back, pulling up his legs for their Aunt to move closer.
“So what do you think we should do?” Marinette questions, when she's seated just across from them.
“...I think it’s complicated,” Aunt Selina hesitates, looking towards the door, “More complicated than they realise,”
“What's wrong?” Marion follows her gaze, another hesitation thats so unlike her, “... Aunt Selina?”
“I’m not your Aunt,” They both go stiff, waiting for more in the silence that follows her not meeting their eyes.
Right now Marinette’s head is probably buzzing with ideas and theories on what that means.
Marion’s mind remains blank, waiting for an answer that she seems to be battling with.
“............ I’m your Mother,”
“Excuse me, what?” Marion’s voice is just as blank, words refusing to process.
“And Bruce is your Father,” She adds, jumpstarting them out of their shell shocked state.
“What!” They both shout, turning towards each other.
“Look, I was young when I had you, I didn’t know what to do,” Selina runs a hand through her hair, still not meeting their gazes as they snaps back towards her, “I knew I wasn’t good enough to raise you, and Bruce wasn’t exactly in the best place back then, at least not enough to raise a child, so I didn’t tell him,”
That is… that is information.
“But, there was Tom and Sabine who wanted kids so bad, I knew they would be amazing parents,” Well yes, “So I gave you up,”
Now Marion's thoughts were a storm. Whipping around his head too fast to get a hold of and actually understand.
“I’m not saying this to pressure you into anything,” Selina follows after a long silence,  “You don’t have to tell anyone, and if you like I can walk out of this room and we can never speak of this again, everything can go back to normal,”
“... do you think we can have a moment?” Marinette sounds just as blank as he had.
“Of course,” That slight fake smile clearly trying to hide the hurt allows Marion to grasp hold of one thought.
“Hey… no matter what we still love you,” The smile turns to a genuine one, Marinette agreeing.
She doesn't reply, leaving the room, door closing with a soft click.
“.... Oh my god,” Marion whispers, staring at the door.
“Oh my god,” Marinette says, Kwamis coming out of hiding, concerned looks going unnoticed.
“Oh my god!” Marion shouts, reality hitting all at once.
“OH MY GOD!” Marinette can surely be heard from outside.
“She’s our Mother!?” Marion turns to Marinette for confirmation.
“HOW is this possible!” So that's a yes.
“Why didn’t anyone tell us!” Marion feels himself getting hysterical.
“Hold on, let's think this through calmly and rationally,” Marinette takes a deep breath, hand on his shoulder.
“Screw that!” Marion pushes her hand off, standing “After something like this we’re allowed to freak out!”
“This is so weird!” Marinette groans, sliding back in bed.
“I know!” Marion starts to pace, latching onto random thoughts and memories, “And everything makes so much sense!”
“How did we not see this?!” Marinette asks the ceiling.
“It’s alright, it probably just never occurred to you to even think about it,” Tikki tries to placate.
“Did you know Tikki?!” Marinette asks, Kwami of creation.
“No I certainly didn’t,” She shakes her head, Marion turning to Plagg.
“I did think she’d make a good Black Cat,” Plagg shrugs, a little too casual compared to Marions current state, “Didn’t think it was because of this,”
“Not to worry, if you were to have any true lineage it is a privilege to be descended from a family such as the Waynes,” Kaalki declares, Marion taking a moment to dissect the sentence.
“Oh my- Bruce Wayne really is our Father!” Marion slams his hands down on the bed railing.
“Keep your voice down!” Marinette hisses, sitting up.
“That’s not important!” Marion throws his hand up, gesturing wildly to the general area, “We really are the Wayne twins!”
“The tabloids actually got it right,” Marinette muses softly, leaning back.
“That never happens!” Marion agrees, having spent plenty of time laughing at bad tabloids about themselves, “How could complete strangers be able to tell when we couldn’t!?”
“Now, now, it was a lucky guess, you had no reason to think it was true,” Tikki tries to bring order to the chaos.
“Other than the fact we’ve known her our whole lives and easily could have seen how similar she is to us,” Marinette mumbles out.
“And she’s really bad at pretending us calling her Aunt doesn't bother her,” It wasn’t until now he actually knew why.
“So I guess the first question is how do we feel about this?” Marinette tries to follow her Kwami’s lead.
“Too big a question,” Marion groans, flopping down onto the bed.
“What should we do?” Marinette asks, he turns his head to fix her with a glare.
“Way too big a question,” Marion feels Plagg curl up against his side, Kaalki also sitting near.
“What will this change?”
“Tikki! Take over!” Marion yells into the covers.
“I think you should start at the beginning,” Tikki says calmly, “How do you feel about being given up,”
“I don’t know,” Marion groans into the covers, another coming from Marinette.
“Angry, sad, betrayed?” Tikki prompts, making Marion frown.
“Not really, it’s kind of hard to,” He answers, turning away from the sheets, “It’s not like she just up and abandon us,”
“And we don’t know the full story,” Marinette adds, Kwami resting in her hands.
“Then maybe you can ask her,” Tikki suggests with a smile. “How do you feel about Bruce-”
“Nope, still processing, not touching that with a ten foot pole,” Marion refuses, causing the Kwami to giggle.
“Ok whatever you're comfortable with,” She smiles, giggles dying down.
“Tikki you have to realise I am so far outside of my comfort zone right now, that sitting in the middle of Hawk Moth's lair surrounded by every Akuma we’ve ever fought sounds more comfortable,” The sad thing is, he isn’t even exaggerating.
“Kid you do have an out,” Plagg flies into this field of vision, “You can ignore it and go back to normal, or confront it and see what happens, which do you want,”
Marion frowns, not at Plagg he’s right, for once. Neither of them speak. Every time Marion tries to think of the future, memories pull him back. Until one catches his attention. It was something he thought of often, usually when trying to avoid getting Akumatized, but sometimes just to smile. However, now it has a new meaning, he isn’t sure if it ruins the memory or improves it.
“... Hey, Nette, do you remember what happened when we found out we were adopted?” Marion breaks the silence, turning to the smartest person he knows, and that includes the person who created an AI at fourteen.
“We asked who our real Maman was?” Marinette watches as he sits up.
“Aun-she sat us down and told us off,” Marion scoots up the bed to sit next her, “Said that even if we didn’t have the same blood as Maman, no one in the world was closer to our Mother than her,”
“.... She always looks so in pain when we call her Aunt,” Marinette leans her head against his shoulder.
“.... I don’t want to ignore this,” Marion decides, enough time passing for them to relax against each other.
“... Neither,” Marinette eventually agrees.
“So what now?” Marion asks aloud, “We just change everything ?”
“I guess so,”
They share a soft smile, wouldn’t be the first time.
------------
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@technicallyburninggarden @fusser90  @misslenamooney
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